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Monthly Archives: March 2018

Haunted House

8:23 ante meridiem.

Like mental clock work.

Eyes open.

Thunder collapsing all around me like I was in a white squall.

I couldn’t breathe, heart rate in Tachycardia.

Someone call for help.

I re-organize my sight. My mind is racing.

I look

I’m alone.

Tears flood the aging bed.

Drowning in stillness.

My Cat, gone

Forever.

Why?

Why is this darkness, cloud following me, hurting me, ripping my life apart?

He was only 4.5 years old.

I only spent 7.5 Months with him before I became Disabled.

This August, would have been 4 years together.

My Shadow, My Soul, My Little Boy.

Remember, *I Had To Do This Eight Months Ago With My Dog. Let Him Go After 9 Years.
Yes, He’s Alive, But I Haven’t Received:
1. Photographs
2. Updates

Now, my Cat passes away?

Well, in 5 Days, it’s three years.

Three year Anniversary of being Disabled.

And now, I have to Teach outside my house since I have no steady income, so I should be dead soon.

Maybe he knew.

All the terrible things, crumbling around us and me back in December making my way to stand on the Railroad Tracks.

Now.

Well, I have a week to wait

Wait for the Necropsy Results.

I have to call Cremation tomorrow.

My baby is sitting in a Veterinary Morgue, and I don’t know why.

When I was holding his body at the Emergency Clinic, He felt alive.

I kept whispering, Buddy, please

Please come back.

Please Buddy.

I wanted his spirit to know I was there, begging for him to come back.

He had a tear in one of his eyes.

I wiped it away and closed it.

Now, everymorning I wake up, the first thing I see is his body.

That’s where I found him.

Now, this room, this house will never be the same.

Rainbow Bridge

March 23, 2018.

My Furson Leonardo Foltok Passed Away Suddenly.

I Woke To My Other Cat (Jackson) Pouncing On Him.
I Was Half Asleep, Just Thought They Were Fighting.
Then (Jackson) Wouldn’t Stop.
I Rolled Over, And Leonardo Was Lying On The Floor Next To The Bed.
I Picked Him Up.
He Was Warm, But, Not Moving.
I Rushed Him To The Only Emergency Animal Clinic, And They Told Me, He Must Have Just Passed. *(I was woken up at 5:30a.m).

He Was Only 4.5 Years Old.
So, They Called It An Acute Death.
But, They Don’t Know Why He Died, So I Sent Him To U of I For A Necropsy.
*(It’s the only location that does it within the area).
It Will Take A Week For Results.
I Have To Know Why He Passed Away.

*The Second Clinic I Took Him To *(where he will be picked up)
Did A Paw Print And A Little Kitty Glass Vile Of His Fur.
Free Of Charge.
*I got to hold him in the towel they had at the Emergency Clinic For Almost 35 Minutes.

I Don’t Know How I Will Be Without Him. I feel more alone than ever.
He Was My Shadow, My Soul.
The Only Pet To Chose Me.
He Was Literally With Me 24/7 Since We Moved Here.

Leonardo, Why Did You Leave?
I Love You Forever.
R.I.P
My Little Boy.

The Pedagogue Melancholy Effect

After This Late Afternoon, I Know Where I Stand At The Company I’ve Dedicated Myself For 22 Months/7 Days A Week.

My COO made sure I don’t matter even in how passionate I am about Education and how devote I am even in Disability.

He made sure that I felt as if everyting I ever accomplished in the 22 Months is short of nothing and that everyone is struggling too even though he is a Millionaire (as well at the entire Student Body and Upper Management).

Thank You for trying to make me feel worthless when my life is crumbling, ripping at the seams, but you would never understand.

1. You’ve never been an Educator.

2. You’re extremely wealthy.

3. You’re not Disabled.

Remember that as you look at your soul.

Original Post:

February 10, 2018.

Good evening, after a very difficult time of life, I decided not to take my Medication that induces sleep and releases me from my Disability (partial to some at it’s finest release).

I chose to watch a Film I watched, (in segments the last view) ‘Children of a Lesser God.’

I made the decision to watch this film (I own it on Amazon Prime/Roku) because I am struggling with the fact I have been an Educator for twelve years now (even Post-Disability) and my current Position is bleeding me dry. *Also, in reflection. When I was ten, I had a friend, Jennie. She was Deaf. She taught me a lot of ASL. People tormented her and I had already been tortured myself, so we had a secret bond.

I remember, August 1, 2016, we launched Version 2.0 of our Work and as the Educator, I was stoked. Not just how many hours I was teaching (Average 45-52 Hours a Week/7 Days A Week), but what we had to offer to our Students. Then to watch them evolve and become Graduates and continue on to the University of their Dreams was not just a part of my Career but was subconsciously healing me (My internal emotional pain from my Disability).

My hard work extended into 2017 (7 Days A Week) all the way to late November of 2017. Performing at the top level among my colleagues (Performance Reviews), I felt I would remain in this Position forever.

No.

It just stopped. As I have reiterated before, no reason, explanation, direction, just stopped.

Now, if one is unfamiliar with ‘Children of a Lesser God,’ (it was a Play first then adapted for the Screen by the Playwright, Mark Madoff.

James Leeds(William Hurt), The Speech Pathologist Teacher whose passion was to change how students were learning. He wanted his students to speak and have the chance to utilize both Speech and Sign Language as tools to communicate.

He was brilliant at it. He truly cared about his Profession as an Educator and his students lives.

I am the same.

I have given my life to my Career, and I am Disabled now, and I never stopped Teaching.

I can’t. *(Educators and Principals run in my Family/Maternal).

I can no longer teach in a physical Classroom, so my options are the 1% of the Academic Job Market.

I do not posses a PhD *(another dream of mine crushed), so I cannot Teach for major Universities Online.

But, I got lucky. I started with the Test Prep. world before I was Disabled, and that led me into a Full-Time Career again Online.

But, the way I have been treated these last three months, is burying me.

I wrote this a year ago:

“2/10/17.
Good Morning.
I’m Headed To My First Interview(45 Minutes) Since July 2016. It Saddens Me.
See You Soon Korea.

“I’m locked inside here
Want to stay
With people who aren’t here
All the way
The hurt doesn’t show
But, the pain still grows.
We were a Family.”

*There was an Incident at my Job (the only one I ever had) when I thought it was over by the way my COO and former Direct Boss spoke to me. **Within a Month, things normalized between myself and my former Direct Boss.

But, the second part of that Post is beyond painfully accurate today.

I know, no Job is guaranteed, but when One works as hard and is as dedicated as I am even with the lack of gratitude and now, financial crisis, it is pushing me into a position without future options.

I never left the Classroom. It left me.

Not my Students, but by people who have never been educators, guides and have never experienced the magnificence of changing someone’s life.

I still give my 100% everyday, but I’m losing the pedagogical race from the Capital war.

And it’s killing me.

Literally.

How will they remember me?

I hope they know

I gave a piece of my heart to every Class I’ve ever taught since 2006.

Even in Disability.

Teacher of a Lesser God.

The Friendship Book

Wednesdays.

A Noun but an Adverb that is attached/labeled to my Blog.

Middle of the Week, sometimes no where.

Sometimes, in pieces.

8:23 ante meridiem

I am so sick, I cannot find myself.

After 2.5 hours of routines and I Rescheduled my Follow-Up for tomorrow morning *(No way I could drive).

Clean up a disastrous kitchen, memory is returning.

Then as the moon aligns, I message a friend who has been a part of me for twenty-three years. *(Technically 24, but we were not friends yet).

Her and I have been trying to find time to catch-up via telephone. *(I haven’t seen her in the flesh since 2003).

Today, was the day.

We spoke for 1 Hour 5 Minutes Facebook Call Then 2 Hours 34 Minutes Mobile Talk.

It has been about 4 years since we talked that long voice to voice.

I was stoked to hear her.

First, her accent heavier then when she lived in Chicago, but an accent I’m familiar with.

But, it was her.

The same girl I saw in 1994 wearing a blue dress with a flower print and white dress flats *(I knew by her attire, she was not from Chicago).

She had long beautiful brown hair and big brown eyes with this contagious smile *(that her daughter now has).

I was sitting kitty corner at another lunch table, and I heard her spoke.

I thought My God, she sounds like my Father.

Sure enough, that accent I would come to know is the same accent my Father (still) has.

I will never forget the first day I saw her.

Sophomore year began, and we became friends. School Mates.

But, by Junior Year, she was my Best Friend. *(More to that chapter, but that’s between us).

She moved away after we Graduated from High School.

I was sad. Sad in many forms. I knew she was moving back to her home-state, but I was hoping for more time.

More time to discuss actions, situations that occurred in High School, to be together at our usual spots *(She had this great classic Red Bronco), more parties, alone, just us two talking.

We did have a final get-together before she left.

It was four of us at a Campground.

I want to say it’s Blackwell, but for some reason I thought it was Blackburn.

It was an infamous place to hang out in the 1990’s.

So, the four of us (Her, myself, a guy from HS she was seeing, and another a year ahead of us. Kind of like a “Double Date.”

We had fun.

But, inside, my spirit wanted the present to remain, her not to go.

After she left, we became

Pen Pals. *(Pre-Internet Days).

I though it was a fantastic idea.

I loved writing her letters, sending pictures, receiving the same. Sometimes Mix C.D.s or drawings.

Her envelopes were this magnificent fuchsia, so I always knew when distant moments with her had arrived *(I still have every single letter she has ever written me. Going back to Junior Year of High School).

I was always eager to see what was inside, where she was at in life.

We kept corresponding through letters for over a year.

Then, I moved away (again), then as my future had begun I was off to University (again).

We always managed to maintain our Friendship no matter the dislocate of lives being lived or becoming adults and ever changing circumstances.

Today, was an example of how two people can continue a Friendship *(without physically seeing eachother in almost fifteen years), but are able to find the space that we shared and catch-up with.

I don’t miss many people in my life.

But, she is one of them.

And I hold on to that, and know no matter how sick I become or where her journey takes her, that Friendship is permanent.

The Zealous Effect

Tuesday Blues.

2018 Equinox.

Almost Twilight.

What A Day…

Meetings, Educating, Fighting These Infections (Sinus and Ear Infection…Not Winning This One).

Tired.

So, I could say

Strike 4.

Once again, disappointment, deception, crossing the line occurred, but I’ll leave it closed.

I’m exhausted from it all.

The only man worth caring about is Dead, so let’s leave it at that.

My New Book arrived today

the five people you meet in heaven by Mitch Albom.

I’m almost finished with tuesdays with Morrie, so I’m looking forward to this read. *I have a few more books in my Purchase Line:

1. Starfish

2. Educated

And a few others (all Non-fiction as I write/have small Published and will largely Publish soon).

Today, I started my Process of Certification in the State of Michigan.

I just feel, this is where I’m supposed to be.

Detroit.

I start the process with:

Michigan Online Educator Certification System.

If everything plays on track, I can complete and receive paperwork in two months.

Time.

Something I need.

I’m enthusiastic, overwhelmed, but passionate.

It’s who I am.

And I know Change in many forms will occur with this shift, Chapter in my life.

I just need to focus, fit all of the pieces together, become awakened from the darkness that I’ve been carrying since 03302015 and September 9, 2016.

Detachment.

What’s most important is yes, my Disability, but I need to leave

For good.

And the future is conscious, calling to me.

Being in a commitment is still apart of me that would be kind, fitting.

But, I have met too many cruel souls the last few months and I do not need comfort in knowing that’s what I deserve.

Aging Antidote

Doxycycline.

100MG Every 12 Hours.

This is the Antibiotic I’m currently in as well when I was battling my Staphylococcus Infection for 5 Months.*(One, of the three causes of my Disability, Dysautonomia).

The Antibiotic is used to Treat the Following:

  • Lyme Disease (Common)
  • Cholera (Extremely Rare)
  • Bubonic Plague (Extremely Rare)
  • Staph Infection (Very Common)
  • Anthrax (Extremely Rare)
  • And Suggested For Malaria Patients With A Combination Of A Drug, Quinine. (Common)

I took Doxycycline in February 2015.

Cured my Staphylococcus Infection. (30 Days).

*But, my Staph Infection was so severe and left untreated, I am forever prone.

Now, so return to this ruthless Drug with its extreme side-effects.

I’ve taken 2 Doses today, and I feel like Death.

Over a 24 Hour Course, I’ve taken my Disability Medication, Death Antibiotics, And Almost 6 MG Of My Other Medication.

The Last 4.5 MG was taken over 3 hours ago, and nothing.

Not even a whisper of sedation/relaxation, slumber.

When is it enough?

When do I get a break from being medically tortured?

No, this is not pity, this is my 37 year old body that has 15 (physical)Chronic Health Problems.

Gone through 24 Surgeries, Including a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy at the age of 23.

Chemotherapy from the age of 25-26 for Stage II Sarcoidosis.

Twenty years (age of 14-35) of GCF-S Injections *(That I am no longer provided since 2015, so my SCN is disintegrating.

And the Counltess drugs I have tried for my Disability, reoccurring Sinus Infections.

Then Disability.

I’m all tapped out.

And if it isn’t enough, where’s my Career/Income?

“The most poetic thing in the world is not being sick.” G.K. Chesterton

Marriage Defunct

Saturday.

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Shona!

My Favorite Western Holiday, And I’m Stuck In Bed With An:

1. Acute Sinus Infection

2. Ear Infection

3. Chills/Fatigue

*(Ontop of my other Health Issues and Disability).

I started the rigorous course of intense Antibiotics today *(I could only afford the Oral. I need the EarDrops, but it is $66.00 WITH Insurance**(That I haven’t been able to afford).

But, this morning wasn’t about botched plans last night *(I was supposed to go on a Date with someone I have been talking to for about 2 weeks. It would have been our first date. He got mad. Whatever it was, it’s over).

Or the fact I am so sick, have to Teach, and miss another Holiday

But, the fact I am angry about something I came across last night.

My Ex-Husband.

His Girlfriend posted something public about her children and someone made a comment referring to my Ex-Husband.

It brought back all of the pain, anger, hurt on how he treated me and how it ended.

I’m currently finishing tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom.

A Book I purchased years ago, started it years ago, and it got lost within other books, work, then Disability.

The part of the book that is really reaching to me pulling me inside is how “Morrie” describes “Detachment.”

The concept of the philosophy of being Detached is apart of my own Religion (Buddhist), but I have never been great and the art of detachment [in a healthy formula].

So, when I was finishing my first set of my morning routine (in such sickness) I thought about the Book and Detachment.

What my Ex-Husband did to me and how he treated me, the memories are forever there, but how do I detach from it now *(i.e seeing the Post and becoming angry and letting it infiltrate my current being.

I typed him a Letter a few months back. But, never sent it. It was more therapeutic at the time when I chose my words.

But, now, I want to re-enter the Letter and send it.

Detaching myself, permantley in writing my emotions and my soul.

He deserves to know what he did was awful and how he was as a Husband.

It reminds me of a title of a Pink Floyd album “A Momentary Lapse of Reason.” (1987).

Is that what the Letter represents or will become?

I can type a 1,000 pages and all he has to do is discard them in the trash.

*(My plan was/is to mail the Letter).

In addition, I have not received any photos of our Dog in over seven months. *(Just the single photo of when he my Ex-Husband picked him up).

How do I detach from that?