Skip to main content

Happy Birthday

Looks like I made it! Another year older and I don't think I've EVER been more grateful or relished the simple act of breathing more. I ate Thai food, dark chocolate mousse, and a killer good Birthday cake! I overdosed on Iliza Schlesinger stand-up. Check her on Netflix! War Paint, Freezing Hot, Confirmed Kills.

Did you know that PINtrest is porn for white women?!  Me neither.How about when you applied to become a girl, and they asked what your favorite season is. "Fall. Motha-fuckah!!" She retorts. Because we love #Pumpkin everything! And we lose our shit when the leaves turn.  Babe, babe, babe, babe, babe, babe, babe, babe: Is it cold outside?

I got serenaded at midnight, so sweetly. All day I had Birthday wishes, on Facebook and in person. Lynn sang and played harp for me and my family. I got serenaded a second time by dayshift. And Jordan, my sweet Jordan, who comes to crochet bedside for me, showed up to facilitate birthday shenanigans. She's awesome! She made me a handcrafted card, so beautiful.

Chef Daniel made me a delicious, surprise, mousse. I'm a sucker for Chocolate and he knows it. My mom brought me a white cake, with raspberry filling and Chocolate fudge icing. What a day!!

And if that wasn't enough, the Seattle Seahawks whomped the San Francisco 49ers 37-18! It was a righteous game, the offense finally matched the defense. The only downside was that Russell Wilson took a hit to the knee. Jimmy Graham came alive! Doug Baldwin was amazing. What a team! We're gonna go all the way!
Labels:
Location: 2720 E Madison St, Seattle, WA 98112, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my...
3 comments
Read more

Lashing Out

Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry."  Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?
Post a Comment
Read more

Managed

Managed care, do not get me started. It is the bane of my existence and my savior. If quadriplegia has curtailed my activities, and it has, then being in a home has curtailed even more. I've had to dumb it down and set my standards low. Gone, are the halcyon days of getting in my wheelchair to go for a stroll or sit in the sun, or even sit in the sun room. Neither the nurses, nor patient care technicians, know how to put me in my wheelchair. Seriously. My chair has head controls and it is a bafflement. Most caregivers don't even realize I have head controls. First, they hit the left head pad when they lift the armrest which turns the chair on. Next, they sling me over and place me in the chair. The problem? My head, naturally, rests on the headrest, which accelerates and drives the chair and is beyond my control. Running over a caregiver or running myself into an obstruction are very real consequences of their ignorance. What could be worse? The caregivers remain clueless abo...
Post a Comment
Read more