Sundrip Journals
I started working on an abstract sunflower when she was born. I went with it. It was more fun than the free flow of thought I intended to release.
I’ll work on this piece for a bit, which is on canvas, and maybe a small abstract still. We’ll see. I’m happy I didn’t give up!
Live Free. Create Well.
Faith MMagdalene
Lord, iI’m having hot flashes again, several an hour. And I’m itching. And I’m even more fatigued. I sure hope I don’t go back to anger overdrive because I stopped using Delta 8. I won’t be medicated nice anymore.
I was at a restaurant the other day and a woman said she was tired and asked if she could sit on my lap. I told her the chair is one of necessity not of convenience. She apologized then went on. I was highly irritated!! Perhaps more than I should have been. Even now it still sends me! I guess I’m just over here chillin’ sitting down resting.
Hopefully during this particular hormonal shift of hot flashes I’ll get to bypass the worst of my attitude and just stick to the physical thrashing of Menopause!
People do not get to put down life changes just because of medical difficulties.
I think I understand something about my wheelchair. I’m proud to use my manual wheelchair because I SURVIVED to use it. So in my head it’s a symbol of strength, not weakness. But to most of the world I’m just handicapped.
Maybe I’m just a girl in a wheelchair at a Vietnamese restaurant whose lap you can sit on if you’re tired?
I wish that hadn’t hurt so bad. There’s a lot of prayer to be done. I have to let this go.
Faith Magdalene
If I don’t drink all 64 oz of water a day as the doctor requested I feel my left kidney protest. It hurts.
After months of abstinence, I had a cheeseburger. I went to McDonald’s of all places. I can feel my left kidney protest. Holding my side, what was I thinking?
In general I qfeel physically weak, puny, chilled and tired.
Since I slipped a bit this week, I’d like to remind myself it’s only Monday. Keep at it. Don’t give up even for a minute.
I know I don’t feel well but I won’t stay down. I intend to do everything the doctor asks me to do as well as possible. I have a winning spirit. I intend to win this battle, too. My left kidney is currently unhealthy. It hurts. It slows me down even more and makes moving that much harder.
The quality of my blood is poor, too. I’ll know my numbers Wednesday. That’s when I go to Hematology / Oncology for my tests for other things. It’ll be interesting to see what my numbers are. By interesting I mean scary. They can’t be good.
Faith Magdalene
I clearly remember the first and last brush strokes of the painting, More Than A Clown.. They were equally moving.
By the time I got the features together I remember the feeling this project was huge, different, emotionally powerful.
I was going to to have to tell a story in color, on her face. A story of someone not taken seriously, not listened to , unseen by people who refused to see. I was going to paint it all; including the parts where they laughed thinking they’d won.
The last expression would be through her hair. Red, blue and purple flames licked the sky all around. The flames licked but did not scorch in the garden where she stood. The name of the garden is Hope. As it is said, “You only start a garden if you hope to see it grow.”
The young woman knows she holds hope in her hands…. and sunflower seeds. I knew I’d have to paint all my that. And I I did. I know it’s a deep piece but ha! it’s her truth and mine.
Live Free. Create Well.
Faith Magdalene’s Sundrip
Somehow, at age 54 I’ve picked up a new nickname, Ladybug.
Two of my caregivers who don’t know one another call me Ladybug.
It’s the strangest thing.
My younger parts like it.
We don’t draw or paint them. This is one of the first we’ve done. It makes me want to go read about them.
I like bugs quite a bit.
Faith Magdalene
Today Sunshine Sam had a prolapsed anus which is when part of the anus slips out of its little designated spot. You can see the pink like bubble on Sam’s butt. It’s very painful.
The best thing to do in this instance is to not panic. He’s going to be OK. A nice warm bath with a little honey in it for 15 minutes sent his little part back where it’s supposed to be. The interesting part is, I got the reverse of the prolapsed anus on film.
In the below one minute excerpt you’ll see Sam’s facial expressions change, his back clinch, his eyes blink, and expressions of this manner.
I’m not a film producer; just a girl with a frog. Sorry for the huge video. However, the moment was too cool to keep to myself.
Sunshine Sam is part of a family of three Australian Green Tree Frogs. He and his siblings are eight years old.
Be safe. Be Authentic.
Faith Magdalene
I have something to tell you about my dog Van Gogh. I sent him back bc of his behavior. It’s been bad since we moved here. He’s been fighting with ALL the dogs here, and winning, but still starting fights.
He jumped the mailman unprovoked one time.
Scared a little girl
He growled at my caregiver twice, snapped at her and seriously tried to bite her, all in the same day.
Tuesday he ferociously barked at a dog he previously whipped. The owner quickly moved away but that wasn’t good enough for Van Gogh. He began to wrestle hard with me to break free out of his harness. Then a cat popped out of the bushes to run away from the barking and commotion. Once Van Gogh saw the cat he struggled more and was free.
Van Gogh was angry and out of my control. I didn’t know him any more. I haven’t known him for a week. He’s not acting like the dog I adopted. The honeymoon was over!
The behaviors, specifically the aggression is frightening. When he jumped at the mailman there was zero warning at all, none! He looked at him, growled and jumped. Had he not been on a leash the mailman would have been bitten.
When Van Gogh ran away I immediately called the rescue center I got him from and told them to come get him. I knew he was coming back home because early on when we first moved here I began to teach him how to get home by smell, just in case we ever got separated.
After he fought me I put on lavender perfume and went downstairs. There he was! Wild eyed. Not sure if he wanted back on the leash, but he came anyway.
In the past week he’s peed on me, my wheelchairs, the bed. I just can’t do it anymore! He hasn’t been the same since I move here.
Before this happened I stayed in prayer for a week trying to figure out what to do about him. Then Tuesday he went and fought me to get out of and out of his harness! That was the last straw. So, Van Gogh is gone as of Wednesday morning.
The bruises he left on my leg and chest are quite large and deep! It’s ugly what happened.
I am relieved. I am saddened that it didn’t work out but I’m relieved that it’s over.
Faith Magdalene
Evevn though I’m not over here actively dying of kidney disease I’m kinda flipping out about it. With Lupus the most precious organs you have are the kidneys, lungs and heart. Lupus is going to attack them!
The only thing wrong with my heart is the right branch bundle block and the left bundle block. No artery disease. No failure.
I have three times tested for difficulties with my liver which means I’ll soon see the specialist.
Things are yucky right now. Day after day of yuck. Lupus rolls through damaging whatever is in its path.
Thursday is the move! The place I’m moving to has an entire care system. They have :
There’s a transition program in between Assisted Living and Nursing Home but I don’t remember what it is.
I llike the idea of being set up with a very nice health system on the side of town where a big part of my support system lives.
I hope things go well here. I’m looking forward to a new home.
Faith Magdalene
My kidneys are weak but not dead. That’s great news. I’m drinking 64oz of water a day, doctor’s orders. As long as I add a bit of fruit to the water I really don’t mind at all.
I’m in a decent amount of pain because of the inflammation and the rash associated with kidney disease. Who knew the skin could be affected so negatively when the kidneys go down hilll? My back has a nice rash and my legs get so dry that I flake like Tony the Tiger. It’s not great!
There’s been zero art. I look forward to painting in the new place. The new place will also bring two new caregivers because the one I liked so much wasn’t able to continue. In the new place I’ll have a female in the morning and a male aide in the evening. After him I’ll have a person for five hours until midnight. I have overnight care. They’ll lock the door and return in 9 hours.
All that so I can live independently. I appreciate it.
Now for tea.
I was able to get the new apartment but I no longer believe this is going to stop because I move. It’ll just be on a different playing field.
My new home will bring better neighbors than the horrific individuals I live by right now. It has a more home like feel to the building instead of here which looks like an institution with long, horrible hallways that get worse with each step. It’s truly Stephen King.
At the new place I’ll have to work on the legal aspect of things. I’ll start a new page of my life, where he’ll mess around and find out.
I have every intention of living quietly. I pray for peace. I pray for wisdom and the right words at the right time. I pray for prayer. Yes, that I remember to keep praying because it is my lifeline, my hope.
The scenery will change, and I need that. The neighbors will change, and I need that. But there’s nothing that says this guy is going to let me go this easily, just move out. He thinks he owns me. He harasses me daily. He has harmed me daily is all I can say. This man is either going to harass me there or I’ll never live in that apartment at all due to violence on my person before I get there.
I’ve asked for police help and got hung up on. #RafaelSanchez is someone here in the city I tried to contact, with no success. But that’s all here not at the new place. It WILL be different there. It’s not hopeless. The move is a positive step towards figuring out what on earth is going on with this person who has been openly stalking me for a year now.