Posted in activism, anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, faith, friends, grief, history, individuality, LGBTQIA Pride, life, Personal, politics, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

3/18/18: #crowdfunding and #walkup vs #walkout (this could get ugly)

(The featured image will make sense when you read further down)


I’m going to write a bunch of posts, at least a few a day, with #crowdfunding at the top and prominent, so I can get a smidge more attention.

As it stands, I owe somewhere between $1000 and $1200 (that changes due to late fees and such, so I know it’s somewhere in that range… last I checked) and #AUCTION is April 12th. For screencaps of recent messages from them, scroll all the way down to the end of this post.

On to the other topic of this post: Walk Up versus Walk Out. I’ve seen some reasonably well-meaning people on my friends list encourage Walk Up. I’m more on the side of Walk Out. For those who haven’t been paying attention here’s the breakdown of what they both mean:

Walk Out: School kids and teens getting up at a set time and walking out of classes in protest of a severe lack of gun control in this country (and yes, gun control means control of who owns/buys them and what they should have to do before getting their hands on firearms. But this isn’t the debate at hand, pay attention). This is a mostly silent protest. Much like with Kaepernick and others silently protesting the treatment of POC by police and the government in general (systemic racism at its ugliest. No, it was not about the flag, never was). This protest is about showing peaceful resistance to the powers that be that this shit ain’t cool and they need to step up and fix the problems or step down and let someone who can and will make a difference take that office.

Walk Up: Well meaning to some degree. This is about the more popular or vocal kids approaching and even trying to befriend the loners who may be potential shooters. It’s about “walking up” to them and engaging them. I get it, I do. But I’ll state my reasons for it being flawed in a moment.

As you may be able to tell (granted, I already alluded to this above), I’m all for Walk Out. I’m a pacifist (with ptsd… yeah, that’s fun… NOT!!!). I believe in standing up for what we believe in. To make a stand for change when the establishment isn’t listening to the people. Those of my generation (X, if you were wondering) have stood by far too long. We’ve let the establishment walk all over us and those around us. But we have been afraid to engage and lead. We didn’t really have things like school shootings when I was that age. One of the worst things that happened was a custody battle gone wrong between two parents and the father killed his two children, one who was a classmate, and then himself so that his wife couldn’t get custody. Three lives snuffed out because of jealousy and selfishness. But it wasn’t on campus.

We lived in a bubble. Yeah, we still had loners *raises hand* and the popular kids. But we didn’t have the carnage and anger that we’ve seen the last several years. In 20 years, since Columbine, we’ve seen far too many shootings (add some stabbings in there, but those end up with less deaths) in schools and places of business.

I wholeheartedly support Walk Out. And some of the teens from Parkland are stepping up and making sure their voices are not silenced. Making sure change WILL happen, come hell or high water.

So, now I’m gonna play a little Devil’s Advocate.

I kinda wish more fellow students had Walked Up to me and others back in high school. I felt invisible and unknown. I didn’t want to BE part of the popular crowd. I liked just being ME, but I wanted them to see me. To say hello in the halls. They didn’t have to befriend me or anything, but just an occasional hello or “hey, Amanda” would have gone a long way. Especially those who were also in my church high school group.

The difference between that and Walk Up is that the campaign for Walk Up is going about it for ALL THE WRONG REASONS!! It should never be about “well, if you don’t befriend them, they may shoot up the place.” That’s all about fear. It should never been about fear. It should be about community, not fear.

If this action is based upon a fear that the loner kid may be the next shooter, then the action comes from fake concern, not honesty. And please, no platitudes. Just saying hello.

One caveat: If the loner kid creeps you out and you get a really bad vibe… yeah, maybe not the best idea to Walk Up. But there are loner kids out there just like I was who just don’t do well bursting into the crowd and making friends that easily. Trust me, at school dances, if I could have melted INTO the walls, I would have. I was a geek of all trades… still am.

In my senior year, I went on a ski trip the weekend before Spirit Week. My mother had this notion that I’d outgrown my allergy to down feathers (nope) and sent me off with a down ski jacket, down sleeping bag, and down pillow.


I was sick most of Spirit Week. On top of that, that trip was where I slipped on the ice and messed up my back. I was 17. I had costumes planned for all the theme days of Spirit Week. I would have NAILED any contests.

But I was sick.

I was finally well enough on Spirit Day, Friday. A half-day, mind you. I went to Econ and ended up sitting next to one of the cheerleaders. Don’t ask me which one. I don’t remember. She turned around and saw me. Mind you, I was still sniffling and I was in pain from the fall a week before.

“Amanda, where have you been?”

“Huh? Oh, home sick.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. We were really looking forward to your costumes for Spirit Week.”

My visible response wasn’t much, but in my mind, I was freaking out. One of the popular kids knew who I was? Knew my name? Noticed I had been out all week??????? OMG!

It was surreal for me. After all those years walking around campus and knowing people’s shoes better than their faces, at least one of the popular kids knew who I was.

It didn’t change a lot for me, but I did start feeling a bit more confident. I looked at faces.

A lot more shit happened the rest of that school year, but I still made it through. Now, I was never the kid who would have picked up a weapon. I hated myself more than I hated my classmates. I had shitty self-esteem and self-worth. I was more prone to suicidal ideation. But, as you can tell, I’m still here.

If Walking Up to someone is out of genuine friendliness and not based on fear, do it. You may just make that loner’s day. But trust your gut. If they seem a bit off… maybe not.

Walking Out. Do it! And then follow through afterward with letters and phone calls to Congress Critters (hey, it’s gender neutral, shush!). Take action with words. Trust me… words are so much more powerful in the long run. Maybe I’ll talk about that in another post.


Posted in activism, animal advocacy, animal welfare, anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, community, crowdfunding, dogs, emergency, friends, health, life, medical, PTSD, storage, urgent

3/10/18: Cats and their Foibles

(In time, this post may be turned into a page with additional info for things like spay-neuter resources. I’ll make it more info-based and not as much anecdotal)


I swear I don’t really mean to, but whenever someone is having gastro or skin issues with their kitty, I step in with advice. I’m not a vet or tech or anything, just an experienced cat person who had one cat with UTI’s (Jack), one with a wheat allergy (JoJo), and my current Monster Floof has a sensitive stomach and skin. I’ve tried the super-top-of-the-line food and down to some of the “nicer” Purina foods and Whole Foods store brand kibble which is grain free… and a whole bunch in between.

What many humans don’t realize is that cats can be allergic to a LOT of things.
  • Chicken
  • fish
  • wheat
  • wool
  • fleas
  • chemical house cleaning supplies* (these can be toxic and lethal to kitties, so if you mop, go back over the floor with a damp towel with JUST water and that can pick up the chemicals… or find options that are safe)
  • Pollen, grass, plants, mold, mildew, and other organic substances*
  • Perfumes and colognes*
  • Prescription drugs*
  • Some cat litters (if said feline is allergic to wheat, do NOT use Swheat Scoop! I almost made that mistake… once.)

If their food is too rich, they can hurl that shit up so fast you wonder if they broke any gut-to-floor speed records.

When I’ve explained to people that I’m homeless with a cat and don’t get much income, if they’re local, they automatically bring up The Pongo Fund. As much as I love what they do (donate to them…. they’re freaking awesome), the food they give out is extremely high end stuff like Canidae kibble. It’s WAY too rich for Portia’s sensitive stomach. I used it for three weeks a few years back. One day I came home to small piles of partially digested food ALL. OVER. THE. CARPET.

I thought at first it was JoJo and her notorious hairballs. I sat down at my desk and then heard the *hork*hork*hork*blargh* in the living room. It was Portia. She wasn’t well, so I called the vet and brought her in. With her sensitivities, very rich foods weren’t good for her, nor are cheap foods. No “grocery store food.” She mats and throws it up. Her only kibble is Natural Balance’s L.I.D. (Limited Ingredient Diet, basically grain free) Duck and Green Pea. They did some sub-q fluids and I got her normal food. This was also around the time I learned that using squash and chicken stage 1 or 2 baby food is great for re-hydrating kitties. The squash helps with digestion and *ahem* “moving things along. Just check the ingredients. It should be nothing but the main item (squash, chicken, turkey, etc) and water. That’s it.


Believe it or not, cats can get stressed out just like us humans. So can dogs. This can manifest in many ways in cats. Litterbox ‘ettiquette’ (peeing/pooping just outside the box, or elsewhere. This can also be a sign of UTI’s or other health issues). Jack (RB, 2002-2010) had UTI’s a lot (Urinary Tract Infections, humans can also get them) and ultimately hid one from me that was so bad, he went into Acute Renal Failure and I could no longer help him. He was ready to go, but it hurt to do it. He was too damn young. I still miss that goofball.

It can manifest in overgrooming and other areas. JoJo became a bully when she was stressed. She also overgroomed and my apartment was Hairball City when she was stressed.

So, I can -and likely will- expand on these subjects as well as go into other cat and dog subjects once I start making this a static page on here. Animal welfare is a big deal for me. I do not condone the big national AR groups as they don’t do as much for the critters they say they’re helping. That’s a huge pet peeve of mine. The one that starts with a P is the worst. But I want good information to get into the hands of those who need it.

More to come!


(Yes, still desperately need help to save my storage and everything in it. Anything you can do would be awesome.)


Posted in activism, anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, community, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, feminism, friends, homeless, life, poverty line, PTSD, storage, urgent

2/27/18: #Nightmares, #Crowdfunding and #Hair

Crowdfunding: So, I’m still very short on funds and if not paid up by 6pm on the 28th (yes, tomorrow), then add another $305 and late fees from hell onto the total, which is around 700 right now (Also is scheduled for auction). Whatever can be thrown my way is greatly appreciated. I just haven’t had a good couple of months of tasks. Now, this *could* change soon as the partnership with IKEA and Taskrabbit is ramping up in the way of the Taskrabbit kiosk (or whatever it is) in the local IKEA store so people can hire someone like me directly while still at the store. I know TR is VERY excited about this new offering (it’s a separate task from general Furniture Assembly). Let’s hope their excitement translates to more jobs for me.

PTSD Nightmares: Two nights with valium. First night was spotty sleep thanks to noise and a certain feline being a brat by jumping up on me. Second night was decent. I think I actually slept a fair chunk of the night. Not all of it, but I think I was out by 2am and slept until about 6:30.

Hair: So, I decided to do a nearly clean slate (but also in a show of crazy solidarity with Emma Gonzales and the kids in Florida) and got my hair shaved down to a 1 on the clippers. It feels SOOOO weird, and holy FUCK it’s even colder now, but I’ll get used to it. Also, it’s only hair. This is, in a way, also a show of independence. My hair does not define WHO I am. I define it. I choose to wear it however I want, not however society tells me I should.

My hair wasn’t all that long to begin with. Despite that, this is a HUGE difference. I think we, in this society, put too much emphasis on beauty in women. Looks are deemed important. I’ve never really been big on that. I rarely wear makeup, I don’t sunbathe, etc… my appearance isn’t for others. It’s practical. It’s for ME. If I know I’m going to be getting dirty, like on a task, I wear casual clothes I don’t mind getting dirty or ripped. I have nice clothes, but rarely wear them. Only when I feel like it for ME.

I think that’s all for now…


Posted in activism, anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, disability, emergency, health, homeless, life, PTSD, society, storage, urgent

2/9/18: Positive Adventures (and #crowdfunding)

(#crowdfunding plea further down)

Yesterday, I headed downtown to run some errands. Due to my disabilities and cane, I tend to sit in the Preferred Seating areas of the MAX trains. I have enough stairs at the house, I can’t deal with too many while out. And those seats are easier as they aren’t so high that my sciatic nerve gets pressure (it’s complicated. It’s also the reason I couldn’t use the stool at my last retail job). I was in one of the newer train cars with only two seats in the main P.S. areas, so I sat down. The older gentleman next to me seemed pretty nice* and so we struck up a conversation.

(* As an Empath with PTSD, I’m hypervigilant but I can also read people like it’s nothing. There was something about him that said he was safe.)

His name is Barry. I’d guess his age to be in his 70’s or so. I could be wildly off, but this was my take. And my parents were older, in their 80’s when they both passed, so I’m used to older folks.

During our conversation, things like being homeless, medical struggles, and work/passions came up. He’s an architect. But technology left him in the dust, despite attempts at learning AutoCAD early on, and he lost his business and his condo some years back. I related to this because my dad was a Civil Engineer and taught himself AutoCAD and basic computer programming. Barry struggled with it. Dad did as well, but he fought to keep up and was still getting work until a couple of years before he died.

Barry loves his work. But between technology and a stroke knocking him down, he had to walk away and focus on his health. He was homeless for two years, at one point getting kicked out of a housing place because he was falsely accused of doing drugs. He was one of the few there who wasn’t an addict. (I have another friend going through a similar thing in a mens’ transitional housing center. Everyone else is an addict or alcoholic and he doesn’t do either, but the resident manager rides his ass for stupid shit.)

Barry and I kept talking about life and work stuff. He’s had a string of roommates, many female (totally strictly roomies), his wife passed on a number of years ago, and he just works at making it through his life now… one day at a time. His outlook, despite everything, is positive.

Because of my PTSD and its origin, I’m hesitant about talking to men on the MAX and elsewhere. Barry was different. I hope I see him more often. He teased me when I said I hadn’t been out in a week and a half because I had no reason to be. He said, “Of course you had a reason. ME!”

He is taking up an offer from another local who happens to be an AutoCAD instructor and is willing to go to Barry’s place and teach him the latest in the software and get him up to speed. For free. He’s been in and out of the hospital since then, so he hasn’t called the guy, but will soon.

He made me laugh. I even got a smile or two from him. So often, I end up sitting next to ex-cons or drunks or some other type. This morning, I sat next to a dude who literally JUST got out of jail (guessing either drunk tank or something… he didn’t get his old clothes back and was in light grey sweatpants and sweatshirt).

But sometimes I get someone like Barry. Someone who, even if they don’t realize it, helps remind me that I can make it through my current situation. He also is a shining example of the kind of homeless people that most people don’t think of…

Whenever I see someone bitching about homeless people, I see the stereotypes cast about. Drunks, addicts, hookers, mentally ill not on their meds, runaways, etc… but there are many, MANY veterans out on the streets. And maybe some of them are also alcoholics, etc, but drinking tends to be a coping mechanism for many out on the streets.

But there is a category of homeless people don’t think of. People like me and Barry. Shit happens and shatters their world. Getting laid off from a decent job, divorce, domestic abuse w/o a solid support network… you get the idea. For Barry, his health and technology wiped away the life he had. For me, the job market and my PTSD (untreated except for antidepressants… but soon. I may have a new therapist for it) contributed heavily. I tried to keep it together, but my luck ran out.

We are an ever-growing sector of the homeless population. We aren’t drunks or addicts. Some have children, some don’t. We may have pets or animals in our lives that help us through shit. Portia is my ESA (Emotional Support Animal) and I want to get a Service Dog to help me function better outside my private space (which is currently a room in the basement of my friends’ house). If it weren’t for Portia, I’d likely have killed myself long ago. But I have this fluffy bitey-scratchy ball of muscle and fur who sits on my chest and purrs. She keeps me going.

But we are treated the same. The pariahs of society because we aren’t in some nice home with a nice job. We need help from the state and federal government to get back on our feet. And thus we’re treated poorly. There isn’t enough to help. Local authorities would rather put up “spite spikes” and similar deterrents instead of reaching out to lift us out of this abyss we’re in. Make us “someone elses’ problem.” Many of us just want to get back on our feet and need a little help to do so. We don’t all have family to fall back on. I have friends, but most don’t have the space or ability to help.

But meeting Barry yesterday helped me a lot.

So, the crowdfunding plea. I got the notice today that if I’m not caught up by mid next month, the unit will be auctioned off in April. Looks like they’ve made some changes to how they handle the whole auction thing… But I really need to get it caught up ASAP. Adding March to it will send it over $1000.


So, there you have the full notice I received. My legal last name and my dad’s info (which was on there as backup but should be removed anyway) have been covered up. I need whatever help I can get.


Posted in activism, anxiety, C-PTSD, chronic pain, community, depression, disability, domestic abuse, gender, health, history, life, medical, PTSD, semicolon, sexual assault, society

1/20/18: March For Me

March for me.
I survived.
But still I live
In fear of

March for me.
I am disabled
And cannot walk far.

March for me.
I am anxious in crowds.
And my voice wavers.

March for me.
I have C-PTSD.
I cannot stand being
Touched by men.

March for me.
For walking is too much
For me to handle.

March for me.
For I cannot
For myself.


Posted in activism, anxiety, community, depression, faith, family, friends, grief, homeless, housing, life, poetry, society, urgent, writing

11/18: Feeling Broken

Something happened today.
Something that ripped me to pieces.
I want to believe there are humans
Who understand what being
Is like.
What being
Is like.
My day was okay.
Except one brief moment.
That formed a black cloud
Over my head.
My soul is soaked through.
My heart and mind
Need to be wrung out.
The cloud weighed me down.
I wonder now.
Who among us
Has compassion?
A safe place for a woman and her cat?
When the world buckles underneath you,
Who do you turn to when it makes you fall?
When the help you need the most is not the help family can give you?
Where do you go?
When you scream for help, but there is
None to be found.
November 2017

Posted in activism, bigotry, bugaboos, community, faith, homeless, life, society

11/7: Humans aren’t always Humane

Humans are strange critters. Granted, the homeless man probably shouldn’t have been begging ON the MAX, but nevertheless, he was. This woman across from me though… she had this air about her that screamed “I’m a churchgoing conservative” … I know the type all too well. He stopped and asked her. Her response?
“What are you asking ME for?”
Here’s what I take issue with: You can (and should) be polite to all people, no matter where they are in life. Many of us are one or two paychecks away from being where this man is… hell, where -I- am. Homeless. Not enough people realize this is very much their reality as well. We are all made of the same starstuff. Her response could have been much better. Even a simple, “Sorry, I don’t have any cash” is enough. I rarely have cash on me, and when I do, it’s usually for something specific. If I do have ‘spare’ cash, I will give it. Because I know what it feels like to ask for help.
I imagine that woman on the train today has never had to ask for help. I pity her more than the homeless man. If she is a churchgoing “Christian,” I don’t think Jesus would be too pleased with her behavior. His teachings were few, but enough to get the general idea.
Love, not hate. 
Not a difficult concept, really. But it doesn’t seem to get through to enough people. I’m not going to get all preachy or anything right now. I just wonder about people like that woman today. If she were in his shoes, even for a while, maybe… just maybe, she would come out the other end of that experience a better Christian. For those who consider themselves people of faith, especially Christians, how would your God react if they saw you treating someone this way?
Posted in activism, bugaboos, disability, faith, life, nanowrimo, Personal, society, writing

11/4: Writing and Respect

I hit 2500 words last night and then had another task today, which took up a chunk of my afternoon. So I’ll write this evening and then tomorrow.

On my way home on the bus, I noticed things. The more I’m on public transit, the more I see both good and bad behaviors. One dude wearing a camo jacket and had camo on his backpack (and a trucker hat… with a trucking company name on it) sat across from me and was entirely too guilty of “manspreading.” And I really wish he hadn’t. There was a hole in the crotch of his filthy jeans… not big enough to know what color his undies were, but noticeable. Which is bad enough.

Then two examples of people wanting to get on the bus not waiting for people to get off the bus. The first time was when I arrived at my destination and these two kids just got on and even after I said ‘Excuse me,” loud enough, still stood there like they had zero clue. It wasn’t until the adult in the group (mom or aunt, I presume) who was still outside on the sidewalk spoke up and told them to get off the bus and let me get off. Because of being disabled and having my wheeled crate with me, the front door is best.

Then, on the way home, two ‘kids’ in their early 20’s or so didn’t bother waiting for an elderly woman to get off the bus. The only difference was that no one, not even the driver, told them to wait. Most drivers will hold up their hand and tell boarding riders to wait because someone was exiting. This driver was younger and female and had a new setup with a plexi-glass barrier up (that can unlatch and swing open for her to get up) for her protection. Maybe she’s fairly new, or she is concerned about getting any riders upset, but she said nothing. These two just pushed past the older woman.

This brings me to a bugaboo I have: lack of respect. I’ve seen, and dealt with a lot more of this on public transit recently. I use a cane and I still am expected to ask for a seat in the priority seating area for elderly and disabled riders. None of us should have to ask. The signs are actually pretty damn obvious. A couple days ago, a fellow disabled rider had to tell a woman who purposely turned away to ignore that someone else with a cane (me) needed the seat she was in. The older woman said I needed the seat. She reluctantly moved. We chatted and she said she recently watched as someone requested that an able-bodied person move so the disabled person could sit in the area designated for us, and the guy sitting there refused to move. Another guy, who was disabled, told the reluctant guy that he was required to move for people like us. He still refused. I can’t remember what she said ultimately happened, but man…

We. Should. NOT. Have. To. Ask.

It’s called respect. Try it sometime.

Sadly, I’ve seen a decline in it in recent months, even in the last few years. I do my best to respect others. But it’s a two-way street, ladies and gents and everyone else. If you want my respect, you gotta earn it. You are NOT entitled to it. Shit, you aren’t entitled to anything other than being able to breathe… and equal rights. I don’t give a shit who you are, where you’re from, what you do for a living, etc. If you treat others like shit, expect that in return. You are owed nothing. Want respect? Be worthy of respect.

I believe that every person who makes it to adulthood has earned a basic amount of respect… say 5 points. You can lose some of those points by being an absolute asshole to people… or you do massively evil things. But I believe we all start adulthood with those 5 points. You want more? Earn them. Do good deeds, be kind to those who maybe aren’t as lucky as you are. Respect those around you, even simply by being polite and kind to them. Let them off the damn bus before you board. It isn’t difficult to do. It just takes a few extra seconds and a little patience.

Practice kindness and respect. You’ll earn them tenfold in return.


Posted in activism, bigotry, community, family, history, life, politics, society

9/25: Silence

This part of Simon & Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence struck me as powerful at this point in time. While many younger people may know Disturbed’s version better (which is the one I’m listening to on repeat on iTunes), I know both, hence referring to as S&G’s song.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

You may already be onto what I’m referring to.

The NFL and others in silent protest.

It started with Kaep a year ago. I’m a die-hard Niner’s Girl, but I’m still pissed off at the owner for releasing one damn good player because of some controversy. Controversy over Kaep doing something GOOD. (He needs his damn job back.)

Here’s the thing that I know a bunch of (fellow white) people aren’t grasping about the whole protest: It isn’t about the flag or the anthem. It isn’t insulting to servicemen and women. They fought for our right to protest.

So, what was Kaep protesting? And what many others in the NFL and other sports are now doing?

The extreme violence and senseless deaths of PoC, namely black men and children.. sometimes women. And all, or nearly all, by police officers. You know, the people who swear to -serve and protect the community- … and yet they kill PoC. What far too many of them are using as their defense is that they feared for their lives or they thought the 8 year old had a real gun. Or any other number of really lame excuses.

My opinion of officers being afraid -so afraid that they shoot a child who clearly has a toy, or an adult PoC running away from them- that they shoot to kill, not maim is that if they’re so damn afraid of getting hurt by a child with a toy gun or someone running from them, then they do NOT belong on any police force.

I want to look at the training practices between US police departments and other countries. This will take some time. But I have a distinct feeling I already know the answer: police in the US do not get enough well-rounded training.

So, back to Kaep and all the other players who took a knee this past weekend. While there have been a few here and there, it wasn’t until 45 (and if you don’t know who 45 is, get out from under your rock) publicly insulted Kaep, his mother, and every person who has supported Kaep’s mission. Don’t you dare insult these men. Men and women vastly better than you (45) fought and some even died for the rights stated in the Constitution. And men much better than you (45 again) are taking a knee in silent protest against the senseless and needless deaths of PoC in this country at the hands of police.

There are some who are angry at Kaep and the others for their silent protests. But these are the same people who get pissed off when protesters stand in the streets… when they hold legal, permitted rallies and hold signs… You want them to not be so loud, but when they do a silent protest, you still get angry. Why?

Could it be that you are racist and refuse to admit it? Quite likely. You want them to not speak up at all. To be subservient and quiet and do as they’re told… right? Admit it.

I know people like you. I was raised by a person like you. I chose to do the opposite. I chose to fight for equality. For true civil rights for everyone. No special treatment, just equal treatment.

If their protests make you uncomfortable, then they’re making their point. And your uncomfortability over being stuck in traffic, or watching football players kneel instead of stand for the anthem, is a tiny price to pay compared to the blood of black children and adults being spilled in the streets for nothing more than racist fear. If you are uncomfortable with these protests, then you need to check yourself in the mirror. A racist will be looking back at you in your reflection.

My father served this country. His brothers, his father and uncles as well. My mother’s brothers-in-law served as well. I have cousins and friends who have served. If my dad were alive today, I think he would be proud of Kaep.

All voices need to be heard. Even the silent ones.

People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

Kaep and others are talking… will you listen?


Posted in activism, anxiety, bugaboos, chronic pain, crowdfunding, emergency, family, health, homeless, life, medical, Personal, politics, storage, urgent

9/20: Round 3: #Healthcare, ##GrahamCassidy & #crowdfunding Life

Yes, still on the non-violent warpath to get storage covered before auction. As of this post, I have $609 and need to hit a total of 1025 (plus yet another damn lock, which is $15 or so) before Noon Thursday the 21st…. tomorrow. Preferably today before 6pm Pacific (3.5 hours) so I can sleep easier. So a little over $400 needed. Small donations, large donations… I’m not gonna be picky. I don’t expect any one person to cover the rest… but any little bit helps.

While I am merely crowdfunding to keep my belongings safe from auction while I’m homeless, others out there have to do the same for things like medical and vet bills. Vet bills, I can understand as pet insurance isn’t a huge thing still… and past a certain age of the pet, you can’t get it (at least what I looked at years ago). It isn’t required and it is somewhat affordable. Human healthcare, however, is not affordable. And now, here in the U.S., it is a requirement.

Only now, for the umpteenth time in less than 12 months, the GOP is trying to yank our coverage out from under our collective feet. They’re like the little kid who refuses to listen to “mom” and not put their toys in the microwave and setting it for 10 minutes.

Fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on YOU. 

Why? Why do they do this? Because they can and because it was “that black dude” us Liberals voted into office for two terms who got the ACA passed. Is the ACA perfect? No. Was Obama perfect? No. But when it came to a number of things, he still did a lot better than the GOP is now. The latest bill to repeal the ACA and kill off American Citizens access to coverage for millions of people. GOP Cruelty at it’s finest ugliest.

If we had the money, I say we form our own superpac or similar and lobby the ever-loving shit out of them, luring them away from Big Pharma (who does some good, but not as much as they’d like us to think), billionaires, and the like. I get it, they want to keep their money. But they’re risking the lives of those who do pay their taxes.

I have a say in this. While my senators are working to fight the GOP insanity, there are too many who don’t listen to their citizens.

One of my many health issues right now is cluster(fuck) headaches. Not much can be done for them and even narcotic pain meds weren’t very effective at even knocking the pain down more than a notch or two on the pain scale. So I was frustrated. It renders me unable to do much of anything. Doctor on Monday suggested oxygen therapy. I had no clue if it would work. At that moment, the pain was lower, so I didn’t bother. But it returned with a vengeance shortly after and I went back yesterday to try it.

It fucking helped. The pain went from a 9 down to a 3 and then I was able to take Aleve (I have prescription strength at 500mgs) and knock it down completely. I still have a few twinges of pain here and there. Now comes the hard part: Getting my insurance (OHP+/Medicaid) to cover a tank for home therapy. The doctor/clinic will be going to bat for me and hopefully get it covered. I had wondered why I never heard of this option before. I thought that maybe it was a new thing. But then I looked it up. Nope. They’ve known about this since the 1930’s. Holy shit.

A friend of mine from the UK said it’s used over there and is one of the first things tried. That’s when it hit me: Big Pharma. Like I said above, they do a lot of good. I’m pro-vaccine, etc… just got my flu shot even… but this is my theory about why this therapy isn’t offered. Pharmaceutical companies would rather you be pumped full of their drugs first. Oxygen therapy isn’t lucrative, after all.

So, back to crowdfunding and the financial burden of human healthcare…

I had sub-sub-sub-par health insurance back in 2008 when I landed in the hospital with Cellulitis. After it was all said and done, and after my bone-break a year later (patella… that was fun to explain to the doctors), I was over $60K in debt. JUST medical debt. I had about $5K in consumer debt… I ended up filing for bankruptcy in 2013. I had to. There were no other options.

When the only options if your uninsured or underinsured are bankruptcy or crowdfunding, the immediate future looks dreary. There’s no way I could have crowdfunded 60K. Not a chance in Hell. Changing my name and moving to Ecuador sounded really good there for a while. But I stayed.

I have a friend who live in an assisted/independent care facility. Her fiance moved in and then was diagnosed with a form of dementia. They moved into an Assisted unit, but his dementia is already beyond what they can do. They were not going to get married because it affected certain financial and medical insurance arrangements, but now that he’s in a different facility, they will be. There are a vast number of reasons why, but I won’t go into them here. The reason I do mention their story is that for two people in need of a senior facility, being legally married should never have a negative impact on their Medicare or Disability.

I’ve seen rallying cries of “Medicare for ALL!” recently. Here’s my take and then I’ll go on my merry way. I watched from a distance as my father struggled with caring for my mother in her last weeks. Hospice had been set up, but they struggled to find a bed for her. After weeks of home care and searching, a bed was finally procured in a facility where they lived (and where I grew up). She was admitted on a Sunday or Monday. On Wednesday, my dad was informed that, DESPITE BEING AT END OF LIFE, she would be discharged Saturday because MEDICARE only covered 6-7 days. My dad, the doctor, and a few others scrambled to get my mother on Medicaid (Medical, technically, as they were in CA) in time. They got it Friday. She passed away a few days later.

I don’t agree with “Medicare for All” mostly for that issue. I say expand MedicAID, include some of the good parts of Medicare, and make it one giant Single-Payer service. Cut the insurance companies out, except for possibly dental and other secondary services (vision, for example).

This is one of my longest posts yet. I don’t normally go over 1000 words on here. But medical care is a big issue with me. And the GOP want to take mine away. The very coverage that handles my dental, my physical therapy (when needed), women’s services, medications that I couldn’t otherwise afford but help me function, and the list goes on.

Call your senators, especially if they’re GOP. Help them understand who is really getting hurt with this mess. Let them know that their constituents refuse to be silenced.