Here’s my day so far: Wake up at 8:00 AM. Eat some breakfast — mostly blueberries and coffee. Take calcium supplements with Vitamin D. Use Flonase and Ventolin inhalers. Take two prednisone tablets (ugh). Catch up on world news (ugh), US politics (double ugh), and the update on the coronavirus (ugh again).
For six out of the last ten weeks, I’ve been more or less out of commission with two different cold/cough viruses going around. This last week, I added a little drama to the mix. Took Naproxen for a headache and now have a rash (medication reaction) on most of my body. Went to the allergist yesterday and see the regular doc tomorrow.
So, why the heck am I boring you with all this?
Guilt. Probably guilt. Last Saturday, I missed my monthly visit with Travis Christian at Mule Creek State Prison. I’ve lapsed this week on my “Sooner Than Tomorrow” stories because I don’t feel up to the task of giving them the editorial attention they deserve. If I’m going to mess up a post, it better be mine and not someone else’s. So this week’s post is my post — for better or for worse.
You’d think I must get paid big time to produce this blog. I take it seriously. I’m conscientious about the production. I care about the readers. I put in lots of hours. All unpaid. All unpaid in dollars and cents that is. How to you quantify “payments” like these?
“ We love your blog postings and look forward to them.” (yesterday)
“Dede, thank you for everything that you’ve done and I completely share your feelings. I, myself, have stopped posting much since the end of my son’s trial and his going to prison. Whereas I used to worry about grades in school and would my son find the right partner and make a good life for himself, now I live thoughts like is my mentally ill son coping within the prison system? Is he being victimized as he is not a hardened criminal? Are his medications correct and is he being monitored properly? Or the thought of him not getting to see his baby brother grow. It’s all just too sad so I have stopped posting because I want to have hope and I want to be part of a solution. Reading your posts and knowing that I am not alone has given me hope. So thank you so much again, Dede.”
“The grief, second guessing and guilt, are all prices we pay for loving someone with the severe symptoms of a brain illness and struggling to cope with it's tragic consequences. Dede, one of the benefits of the work you do is that others don't feel so alone anymore in their torment. While this doesn't change their personal story, it does ease the isolation that can magnify what they're going through. You work brings these stories to the surface and the light for understanding. Understanding leads to compassion. Compassion leads to positive change. It's hard to see from where you stand. Maybe because you are so busy doing what you do. We can't always see where the ripples from our stones that are thrown in the water reach. Follow your heart. Healing takes time. Big Hugs and much love.”
With the exception of feedback like this, I pretty much write this blog on blind faith. Blind faith that things will get better. That they have to get better. That, by sharing our stories, we can actually make them get better. The blog mission is important to me.
So, while wallowing on the sofa with my runny nose, my cough, and my beautiful rash (if I weren’t the victim, this bodily process could be fascinating to watch), I come across this story. Nothing to do with mass murders, US politics, or the coronavirus. Nothing to do with mental illness. It was published in “The Dodo” on 2/21/2020 and written by Stephen Messenger. “Dog Strolls into Police Station to Report Himself Missing.”
Last week, in the wee hours of the morning, an unexpected visitor strolled through
the doors of the Odessa Police Department in Texas and hopped up onto the counter.
It was a friendly dog who seemed eager to let officers know of an incident in progress
— that a certain someone had gone missing from home. He, himself.
The author’s playfulness captivated me. But more, the photos of the dog (Chico) in all his doggifulness (is “doggifulness” a word? If not, it should be.) carried me out of myself, off my sickbed, and into the realm of storytelling at its best — for fun, for light-heartedness, for joy.
So, to those of you who tell me you read Sooner Than Tomorrow week after week, and indeed, count on it, please allow me this week’s “time out.” Please enjoy Chico and his adventures — even if you’re not a dog person. Please stay well, away from cold and cough and coronaviruses. Maybe, give yourself permission to take your own time out. We all need them and deserve them now and then. Hope you have a good week.
