and I hate cats. Hmm, does that mean that I hate my life? In a short answer, yes, a part of it.
Cats are said to have 9 lives. Humans aren’t usually that lucky, well, at least we don’t know for sure. I know, though, that I have been give more than enough reasons to wake up and turn my life around, but don’t. It is like I keep challenging my reality, saying that it ‘can’t be worse than this’. Oh, yes it can.
How many ‘lives’ have I been given as a ‘do over’?
Number 1: my mom said often of her ‘difficult delivery’ and the doctor’s work on me after it.
Number 2: after recently learning to crawl I was practicing the skill and found a fairly large screw on the floor which I ended up choking on. I was turning colors when they found me, turning me upside-down, beating on my back to dislodge it.
Number 3: for a while, my infant daughter, husband and I lived with his mom. My father-in-law had recently been released from prison. He and mom-in-law were not married anymore but he stopped by frequently, not in a good way. My husband was at work, he was a cook and worked late. My daughter and I were in bed, asleep. I woke up with a gun to my head and him saying that he would kill me if she didn’t have sex with him. I am assuming she did. I was petrified. My husband’s response? He was just trying to make a point.
Number 4: still in the mind boggling marriage. We were fighting literally days after our 2nd daughter was born. About what? Who knows. It could have been about the weather, food, the baby crying, his mom wanting us to do something for her–now, us needing to buy something, really, who know. I have no recollection of the fight, just the results which was him strangling me and me falling to the floor on top of the newborn. I forgot to say that I was holding her. He picked up our one year old and left, on his motorcycle, I have no idea how. A neighbor saw him and came in because they knew that I would not have allowed him to take her like that. They were able to revive me. No, I didn’t call the police. Don’t ask me why, the answer is confusing to anyone who has not experienced domestic violence.
Number 5: weird diagnosis of Pseudomyxoma Peritonea, appendix cancer. One in 2 million people, yay me. At that time, there were only 7 or 8 doctors in the country who were considered specialists, of course none locally. Many trips to Texas, MD Anderson and it appears all is fine. Well, except for the bankruptcy that resulted from twice a year appointments which were not covered by my insurance.
Number 6: kayaking with my son on a new river. We went around a bend, got caught in some aggressive Rapids and flipped. I got hung up in the roots of a tree in the water and couldn’t disengage. Eventually I was able to push myself down enough and got too the surface.
Number 7: There is no number 7, except figuratively. My life that I worked diligently to create has died with my increasing disability. No longer can I stand in front of audiences to speak. No longer can I carry things for a clever display. No longer can I work 10 hour days going from one thing to another. Hell, no longer can I drive.
So, this is my list of second chances. One would think that I recognize the gift that I have been given. But, I have not. This is the reason for the blog.
Yes, I hate cats. I don’t have to hate me. And, yes, I still have two more chances.
Can I learn how to perform with 3 strings?