Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Friday Feast

There is a website called "Friday Feast" which bloggers can go to and get 5 topics on which to write. I know that my writings about myself aren't as entertaining as when I write about the terrorists or places I've been, but let's face posts on this blog have become pretty scarce I decided to peruse what other bloggers are doing with the "Friday Feast". To say that I was disappointed with what I saw would be an understatement. The boneheads who officially participate can put their names on the "Friday Feast" website and it automatically crates a link to their page. Just about every blog I read had stupid one word or one line answers. What's the point? How do you get to know yourself or how does anyone get to know you if that is all the effort you are going to put in to writing about yourself?

So, with that as my preamble...let me post this warning...if you don't want to read about me, me and all pretty much me, then today and forever more please skip any posts labeled "Friday Feast". It won't hurt my feelings. Go read "Crazy Aunt Purl" instead.

And now we start on my inaugural "Friday Feast":

Where on your body do you have a scar, and what caused it?

Ok, when I read the answers that other people posted it made me laugh. Where on my body do I have a scar? The easier question would be to ask me where on my body do I not have a scar. I have approximately 11 scars to chose from so I will go with the highest one and the biggest one. The highest one is from getting hit on the top of my head with a camera when I was about 5 years old. I have a very clear memory of this incident except I can't remember if I was the monster or if the camera wielding neighbor, Beverly, was the monster. I just know that we were both growling at each other and we had our arms up over our heads. I saw the camera in her hand and I saw her raise it over her head. It was an old fashioned "brownie" camera. (For anyone younger than me who is reading this and thinks that I was hit with one of the teeny weenie pocket size camera's of today..think again. "Brownie" cameras were about the size of a milk carton. They were very large and very heavy.) As I saw the camera come down I thought for sure she was going to just psych me out and swing past my head. On the contrary. She hit me so hard that I saw stars. There was a lot of blood and at first I was more mad than I was injured. I couldn't believe she would actually hit me over the head. I can remember being afraid to show my injury to my mother because for some reason I thought I was going to get in trouble. It turned out that I didn't need stitches but for the last 41 years I have a spot where no hair will grow. I don't remember ever playing "monster" again.

Next I will talk about my biggest scar. Anyone who knows me knows that I've had a modified radical mastectomy. That resulted in 47 staples across my chest. For a couple of days after the surgery my incision area was numb and that was such a blessing. Once the numbness wore off it was like having a hot machete resting on my chest wall. Every time I had to get up or lay back down it. Was. Hell. I had one staple that I was convince had pierced my lung. It hurt bad enough that I took it out myself. At that point I didn't care of my rib or lung came poking out of the hole. The staple came right out and the pain went away.(Anyone out there who thinks I could remove staples from your incisions....sorry. Not gonna happen. You'd flinch and I'd scream. We'd both be bleeding. It wouldn't be pretty.) What started out looking like a Frankenstein scar has morphed in to an almost invisible stripe. For a while it had a blue tint to it but now the whole area is transparent white just like the rest of my skin. The surgery involved removing skin, muscle and fat so now I have skin stretched over my rib bones with nothing in between for padding. Those of you who are lucky enough to still have your fat and muscles guarding your rib bones had better thank your lucky stars. Something as simple as my cat stepping on my rib is enough to make me shriek. It's a real party when a baby kicks me there or I roll over and wind up sleeping on a pajama button.

What is something that has happened to you that you would consider a miracle?

Again, which incident to choose? I could go with the obvious and say that it was a miracle that having cancer twice and going through chemo and radiation didn't kill me. But there was some sort of control in that situation so I can't really chalk it up to miracle status.

It is also somewhat of a miracle that I didn't kill my 2nd husband after he did everything in his power to totally ruin my reputation with everyone I've ever known. But there was control in that situation, too. Killing him would have resulted in me being put in jail and nothing having to do with him is important enough to do jail time.

So..I think the miracle that I'm going to discuss is: many years ago I was driving down a very busy 4 lane highway and my mind was a million miles away. I was totally driving on auto-pilot. Without even realizing it was happening I ran a red light. I had a car zoom in front of me and another one zoom behind me, both going opposite directions. Why neither of them hit me I'll never know, but if either one of them had connected I would certainly not be alive to tell the tale. THAT was a miracle.

Name a television personality who really gets on your nerves

You have to live in the greater southern California area to understand this one. There is a newscaster who's name is Sayeda Pagon...the way she pronounces her name makes me want to put my foot through the television.

Main Course
What was a funny word you said as a child (such as "pasketti" for "spaghetti")?

I have had perfect diction since I learned how to talk. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. (Mother, if you have a story to the contrary please let me know...)



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