A day to day in my life. Come on in and sit a spell.
Welcome to my blog! I am in the process of what I like to call "Re-inventing Myself," so theres no telling where this might go.
Hopefully I will give my readers some insight to what makes Word Warrior different (I keep telling everyone that we prefer to be called "different" or "special" - not "weird")
So come on in, poke around a bit. There's all kind of stuff inside, from true ghost stories full-blown miracles, and everything in between!
| As a Pharmacy cashier, I interact with people of all ages. I have seen teenagers talk to their parents with disrespect, children have screaming meltdowns when they don't get their way. These behaviors, while not acceptable, are pretty much the norm for those age groups...in other words, I am not shocked. But there is a new age group that have begun to act out in public - the elderly.
In recent years at my job, I have witnessed behavior in customers between the ages of sixty to eighty that is quite shocking to me.
I had an elderly lady enter the checkout line at the exact same time as a forty-ish man. She yelled at the guy "You just get out of this line right now! Go! Get to the back of the line!"
Now when this lady got to my register, she started telling me, "I wasn't mean to that man, was I? He's my friend. (It was obvious that the bewildered guy had never met her) I would never be mean to anyone."
I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Um, yes you were very rude."
With a look of utter shock, the lady says, "No honey, I'm not that kind of person, you know that."
So I said, "Ma'am, you asked my opinion, and from what I saw and heard, you were rude. That's all I have to say on the subject."
Acting quite ashamed of herself, as she should have been, she mumbled more denials of being rude, as she gathered her purchase, which was a bottle of dish detergent - not medicine.
I apologized to the man when he got to the register. Ironically, HE showed nothing but respect for HER. He told me it was okay, and that he was about to tell her to go ahead of him when she started yelling.
One day, working as a cashier at the front of the store, an elderly white man dropped a dollar as he was putting his money in his wallet. Standing with his mother nearby, a little African-American boy ran to pick it up for him.
The old man stepped on the dollar just as the little boy went to grab it.
"BOY! Don't you DARE touch that!" He yelled at the little one.
The child, head down and looking ashamed, went back to his mother, hiding his face in her skirt. I wanted to cry.
Numerous times I have elderly people walk right up to the register, and when I ask if they have a question, they tell me no, they are picking up medicine. When I tell them that they have to get in line, instead of apologizing that they didn't see the line, they become belligerent.
Just yesterday, as I was finishing up with a customer, an elderly lady came around the corner and stepped up as the other person walked away. She plopped 2 packages of disposable underwear onto the counter. She is a regular, and carries herself with an air of self-importance.
Pointing to the lady waiting patiently in line, I said, "Ma'am, this lady was already in line."
The elder woman turned and looked at her, turned back to me, and pushed the packages toward me.
"I'm going to take this lady first, because it's only fair, so I'll need you to step aside, please."
So the elder lady moved exactly two steps over. As I began to tell the other lady about a medicine that was out of stock, I realized that the older woman was staring straight at me, taking in every word. I stopped abruptly.
"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to step back to the line. I can't allow you to listen to her private information."
The elderly woman looked at me and scoffed, "Private information. Oooh, excuuuuse me!"
Shocked and annoyed by her childish behavior, I said, "Yes ma'am, that's correct. You wouldn't like it if someone was listening to yours."
That knocked the smirk right off her face, with my co-workers quietly cheering me on, unbeknownst to me at the time.
WHY do I have to chasten and chide elderly people? IF I thought they were truly in the beginning stages of dementia or Alzheimer's, I could understand. But that is not the case (there ARE some, and I recognize the symptoms, and I am very patient with them). This behavior is blatantly rude. If they acted confused or apologetic it would be different, but instead, they act ENTITLED!
There is an elderly woman, Virginia, who works in our Pharmacy. She is hateful to us and the customers, very short and cold on the phone, and has caused some customers to take their business elsewhere. One lady cried when I asked her to go to Drop-off. "Please don't make me go down there with that mean woman!" Of course reporting this to my manager did nothing.
One of our Pharmacists, Diane, told me the other day, "Virginia has gotten to the age where she has earned the right to be mean."
WHAT?!? Let me get this straight - when you reach a certain age, others should just recognize the fact that you shouldn't be expected to be polite or civil or humane anymore? What, just pat her hand and say, "Bless your heart!"
Well, I for one will just keep reminding them that although I respect them as a person, being rude or disrespectful to others because of their age will NOT be tolerated at MY register! Respect for your elders is one thing, but pacifying self-centered people of any age is not acceptable to me. Hey, I can take their rudeness to me - I get paid for it! Others shouldn't have to.
End of rant. Thank you.
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|I am SO happy to be done with this cloud looming over my head. This surgery has been a thorn in my side (figuratively) for two months now.
The not knowing how long I would be out of work was the worst part. Not that I mind the time off - its just that I love making my own money - not borrowing it from someone else.
Now that I have all this time on my hands, I plan on getting a lot done here. I just completed a Review Request, so I feel good about that. It was the kickoff to my busy next two weeks.
Thankfully, WDC is my favorite place to be. And once I set up a secondary account for Destiny, I'll have both my "happy places" all in one!
|Destiny stayed the weekend, so she and I decided to get out and do something today, since the sky was overcast, and it wasn't as hot.
As we buckled up, both of us donning our sunglasses (our ritual), and turning up the 80s/90s radio station, Destiny said, "We're goin on a road trip!"
I laughed, considering we were going to the library, the frozen yogurt shop, the movie rental store, and to BK to pick up our supper.
"Road trip it is!" I said with a grin.
Shes just so darn intelligent to be five. When we got to the froyo shop, I commented that I wondered if the library had fleas (no idea why they would), because while we were there my ankles and one hand began itching like mad.
Destiny looks at me with a very wise expression on her face and says, "I think it was a fly. There was one flying around in there."
Right then I could see the Doctor in her that she says she will be and that I know she can be.
While in the movie store, she was trying to show me a kids movie, of which she had already chosen two.
Reading the cover of another movie, I told her that we probably had enough for one night, to which she replied, "Oh, thats right, you don't like good movies." I laughed uproariously and asked why she thought that. She said, "Well, you told me one time that you didn't."
Never a dull moment with my little ballerina. She is my extremely bright, beautiful and very funny favorite girl in the whole world, and I thank God for her every day!
|Working in a pharmacy, I see so many people who are desperate for pain medication. Oxys, Norco, Roxys, these are the drugs of choice. I had often wondered how on earth something like that could get someone high. I soon found out that its not the high, but the desperate need for these pills that keep people coming to us month after month, begging for early refills, and being told no.
My friend Alicia lives in Seattle. We had been friends for fourteen years, although online only, when I suddenly stopped hearing from her. I called and left messages, text, and tried to catch up with her on Facebook, all to no avail.
One day I saw her teenage son online and asked him where his mom had disappeared to. Never in a million years would I have imagined his reply.
"She's in prison, Auntie April." he said.
I'd "known" this boy since he was five, so I knew he wouldn't joke about something like that. I was floored. What he said next sounded insane.
"She took a gun into a pharmacy and tried to rob them. She was after pain pills."
Oh. My. God. This just couldn't be happening. I knew she was on meds for her throat, which they had thought was cancer. It turned out it wasn't, but apparently the damage was done. I got the address and her prison ID number from him, and sat down to write to her.
Every single time I tried, I would ball up the paper and throw it away. What do I say? How do you start a conversation like that?
This went on for five years. Me trying to write to her, only to fill a waste basket.
Finally, I made up my mind to just do it. I told her how sorry I was for not writing sooner, and how heartbroken I was about what she was going through. I told her that I would never, ever judge her. Her reply broke my heart:
Sis, I would never be angry at you for not writing. I was so afraid that you hated me for what I had done. So many times I tried to write to you, but the words would never come. I am SO ashamed. What was I doing, what was I THINKING?? I just don't know what to say. When I am released we will talk and I will try to explain. I love you, Sis. - Alicia Jenae.
I wrote her back, telling her that I would stand by her no matter what. Thats what true friends do. It was not her who did this; it was the pills. I would never ask her to talk about it. If she felt the need to, that was fine, but in my heart and mind, it was over and done.
All this made me look at those people who come in for their pills differently. You start out taking these meds, but sometimes they take you.
|As I was leaving work for lunch today, one of my Pharmacists, Diane, asked me where I was eating.
I told her the steak house just down the street, to which she replied, "Oh good. Lots of veggie choices!"
I laughed and said, "Probably not, unless you count corn and mashed potatoes."
Knowing I'm a diabetic, she told me those vegetables are full of starch; not good.
I smiled and said, "Well, at least my chicken fried steak is protein!"
Diane just sighed and said, "Oh April," shaking her head.
I'll admit, I was a little resentful. Why does everyone worry about what I eat? Its none of their concern!
When I got to the restaurant and I began looking at the menu, I decided to change my usual meal today, just for kicks.
When the waitress brought my unsweetened ice tea, I said, "I'll have the chicken tips with grilled onions and peppers, pinto beans, turnip greens - oh, and a slice of your sugar-free banana cream pie."
She laughed when I took pictures of the meal with my phone. "My co-workers will never believe this!"
I sent the photo to Diane, who replied "I see GREEN!!"
My "usual" was chicken fried steak and white gravy, mashed potatoes with more gravy, pintos, Hawaiian delight and regular Coke - with lots of refills. Not good for anyone, especially a diabetic.
Well, the new meal was delicious, what little I got to try by the time I was served. I asked for a to-go box and tea (I finished it for supper, and it was so good). Then I headed back to work.
When I got back to work and showed Diane, she was grinning from ear to ear. She told me she was so proud of me...and you know what? So am I!
I can do this. I can make better choices, both in the grocery store and eating out. I will say it cost about five dollars more for this meal than my usual, but when you figure up the value, todays meal will save me so much more - my life. ~April
| There are few things that infuriate me than child abuse and elderly abuse. Well this morning, in a way, I witnessed both.
I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for the sonagram that will reveal the large cyst I have on my ovary. I sat in a little side waiting area, joining a young lady and two elderly women. It was apparent from hearing the women speak that they were mentally challenged.
One lady, her name was Lily, was talking to herself pretty much non-stop, saying things like, "I love Jesus. Jesus loves me," and so forth. The young woman, obviously their caregiver, said to Lily, "Stop talking. I told you to stop it. Shut up now."
I was upset, but pleased that Lily kept talking. She turned to me and introduced herself and asked my name. I smiled at her and said, "My name is April."
Then the other woman (I didn't catch her name) was called back, and the young woman stood up and told Lily to come on. As she stood to go, Lily turned to me and said, "Bye, April. I love you."
With tears in my eyes, I said, "Bye Lily. I love you, too. God bless you, honey."
It was all I could do not to break down and cry, but moments later they were back. The young woman had Lily by the arm, and Lily was saying, "You're hurting me, you're hurting me."
I wanted to say something to the girl so badly, but did not want to cause a scene and upset Lily further. I secretly smiled as Lily sat glaring at the girl,saying, "I'll beat your butt. You hurt me again and I'll beat your butt." Of course the offensive girl told Lily that she would not speak to her that way, so I'm sure trouble was in store later.
What I did do was pray for those two sweet gentle women. As I knew He would, God sent me an answer.
Later that evening, lo and behold, the lady who did my registration for my procedure walked up to my counter. I told her what I had heard, and she said she didn't hear the girl, but that she was going to file complaint to the home in which Lily and her friend stay. She told me they have had to do this concerning other caregivers from different facilities.
I told her that I would call her soon and see if she was allowed to tell me the name of the home, because I would love to visit Miss Lily. If not, thats okay, God sent me the answer to my prayer. I am not the least surprised - He always does.
|So today was my EGD, or esophagus stretching...or so we thought.
My sister and I get there, I fill out a bunch of paperwork (I realized that I now have at least one medical history checked under each category, ugh!), and we waited. And waited.
Finally, they take me back, put me under, and literally within 15 to 20 minutes, I'm done. Thankfully it didn't take but a few minutes for me to be fully awake, so when the doctor comes in, I'm ready.
He says, "We didn't need to stretch your esophagus. No ulcers, no tumors. Everything looks great." Then he gave me a script for Protonix and sent me home.
Now wait a minute - he was the one who believed without a doubt that it needed to be done, he and my family doctor. Not once did he say anything about a chance it may be just acid reflux.
No, I don't believe I was scammed, because I know I could barely swallow. Nope, it was God. It was the power of prayer!
I had the same thing happen with a heart catherization. Hooked to EKG all night; Cardiologist said he saw a blockage in my main artery. Rushed me by ambulance to bigger hospital with cath lab; nothing is there. Not only is nothing there, but one of the docs told me my heart was as good as the day I was born!
God is so good to me...all the time, God is good.
|Last Friday I went to an appointment to have my esophagus evaluated. I've been having trouble swallowing for some time now, and its come to the point when I drink liquids to wash food down, it gushes back up again.
While at the Gastro doctor's office that day, he had me lie down, and he mashed on my stomach and sides.
As he helps me sit up, he casually says, "So, you have an enlarged liver."
I'm completely caught off guard, and ask him to explain. All I heard was, "Blah blah, could be an infection...blah blah blah, maybe hepatitus; Cirrosis..."
Then he goes back to talking about my esophagus.
Long story short, 5:30 Monday morning, pain sent me to the ER. Got a CT scan that showed "fatty liver." Sent me home with pain meds.
The Gastro doc called me at work on Tuesday, confirming the fatty liver, then asking, "So did they tell you about your ovary?" They did not. Turns out the cyst that I had years ago, which I was told would be fine and never mentioned again was now causing concern with Gastro doc.
Had an appointment with my family dr on Wednesday. He looked at records from ER on Monday. He says, "Hmmm, I've never seen the word 'severe' associated with fatty liver before." Then, using his hands as an example, told me the cyst is the size of an orange.
Today (Thursday) is my day off, and I got the call about my hepatitus and cancer bloodwork - both normal, thank God! Now I have to wait til the 27th to have a sonogram to learn more about my liver and cyst.
Tomorrow (Friday) morning is my esophagus stretching procedure.
So I guess you could say I've had a busy week...how was yours??
|48 HOUR MEDIA CHALLENGE got me to thinking about the challenges faced by our young people today. Not only are they surrounded with peers who pressure them to do all sorts of drugs, but they are bullied in every way imaginable: face to face, cyber-bullied on social media, and nearly every tween to teen has their own cell phone with a video camera - a camera used to video fighting, public humiliation and any number of demeaning situations, posting them to Youtube for all to see. Sadly, its enough to push some kids to end their lives. And don't even get me started on child predators. What a nightmare young ones have to live through - a literal obstacle course of fear, shame and degradation.
These are an unbelieveably different set of problems than what we had to face growing up. The worst we worried about was the one local bully, and making sure we were home before the streetlights came on.
Children don't just need to be raised, they need to be raised up. Tell them how amazing they are, how they were born to be somebody special, and most importantly, that they can do anything that they set their mind to. If we as parents and grandparents don't tell them how awesome they are, they certainly aren't going to hear it elsewhere.
I think back and wonder if I praised my sons enough when they were young. I feel that I did okay, but it makes me sad to think that maybe I didn't remind them of their true potential enough. So I never miss an opportunity to tell my granddaughter that she is so amazing. How smart she is, and beautiful outside, but more importantly, inside. I make a huge deal out of every small idea, achievement, discovery and milestone she has. My sister says I'm gonna make her conceited. I tell her thats not true - I'm making her self-confident.
She tells me she wants to be a princess/ballerina when she grows up; I tell her she can absolutely be just that. Astronaut? Positively! She and all other children have the power to do whatever they believe in. They can rule the world ~ they just need to know that they can!
|Two weeks ago was my granddaughter, Destiny's, first ballet recital. She was incredible, and I was brought to tears of pride at her being only four years old and learning so much in her first year.
It seems that Destiny has a bit of a problem following instructions in pre-school, so the self discipline she learns in ballet will hopefully help out a lot with this issue.
Afterward, she and mommy were met at the backstage exit by her daddy and I, each waiting with bouquets for our beautiful ballerina.
|My granddaughter and I went out to dinner and shopping today with my niece and great-niece. We decided to go to Greensboro, the next city over from where I was born and raised in Eden, N.C.
If you've ever watched My Big Fat Fabulous Life on TLC, or even seen the commercials, then you know who Whitney Thore is. I know, I know, there are a lot of different opinions about her show - many, not very nice, but I think shes amazing!
She is a role model for so many people, not to mention an awesome dancer. I SO want to attend some of her classes, but her studio is an hour's drive, round trip, so not that convienient at the moment.
But what I love about her show is that it is hilarious! Her, her mom and dad, they just crack me up. They are just so REAL, and so unapologetically Southern, its adorable. When Whitney said "Forget peanut butter & banana. This is the south, & we eat banana & mayonaise sandwiches!"
Thats definitely a North Carolina thing, yummm yum!
Anyway, we were driving down the street in Greensboro, when I spotted the dance studio. I literally shrieked, "Its the...Whitney!!" while smacking on the window, lol. Passersby must have thought me a lunatic. I begged my niece to turn around and go back so I could snap a photo. She did, shaking her head, as I, sounding like a little child, repeated "I love Whitney. I just love Whitney. Shes my best friend in my head!"
I do hope to meet her someday. She seems so genuine and kind that I could meet her walking down the street and not feel nervous avout approaching her.
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|I just saw a commercial that I just knew had to be a parody, with guys singing the lyrics "Lookin for someone other than my wife." But no. This is no joke.
There is actually a site called Ashley Madison, and its a site for married people to cheat. What in the world?? As if there aren't enough cheaters out there as it is!
They call it "the facebook for cheaters." It brings a pang of sadness to my heart, to know that society has sunk so low. Cheaters gonna cheat, but the fact that some lowlife decided to make it seem like a cool new social project is disgusting. Just my opinion...
|After a burning migraine the day before, I couldn't let my Saturday with my granddaughter revolve around me griping about my headache, which was thankfully mild by then.
Upon a friend's suggestion, we went to a fund-raiser at a local camp for mentally handicapped children. After a couple of hotdogs, we wandered around looking at random animals in pastures - some of which came up to the fences and greeted us, much to Destiny's delight.
After being disappointed and apparently misinformed about horseback riding being canceled, we ran across the wranglers leading their charges to the stable to saddle up. This day just got a lot better!
Luckily the line wasn't very long yet, Destiny's turn came fairly quickly, and a thoroughly ecstatic four year old climbed into that saddle with not an ounce of fear.
She rode with sheer confidence and utter delight, as the wrangler led her, astride Cody, the beautiful white mare, around the indoor, hay-covered arena six times. Destiny would have ridden all day, given the chance.
All in all a perfect, fun-filled day, with both of us smiling all the way home - she, from her exhillerating new experience, and I, from being able to share it with her.
|As long as I can remember, I've been different. Now I'm sure everyone feels that way, but my family made sure I knew this. On more than one ocassion the question of whether or not I was adopted was brought up - in a joking manner, of course; but sometimes I wasn't so sure.
As I grew older, there were times when I felt a secret thrill at being strange. One of my favorite Jr High School memories was when I, straggling along behind the prissy 'prep' girls, suddenly heard screaming. I hurried to see what all of the commotion was about, only to find the prep girls cowering and shrieking in terror, and I laughed when I saw what the "big deal" was.
A baby green snake lay across the sidewalk that lead through a patch of woods to our athletic field.
"Awww!" I said, bending down and picking up the lime green reptile.
"You're scaring him! He's more afraid of you than you are of him.", I said with a grin, amid shrieks of 'Are you crazy?!' from the other girls.
The boys, now they were a totally different story.
"Look at her! She just snatched that snake up like it wasn't nothin'!", they were cheering.
Inside, I was doing my happy dance. And there, if only for a few minutes until I let the poor thing loose to go find his mother, I was the cool girl.
This, among other personality traits, had a hand in me being "one of the guys." I was the go-to girl when the guys had gross stories and corny jokes. While their cheerleader girlfriends rolled their eyes, I laughed and told corny jokes of my own.
I was the "chunky girl", so I was never quite good enough to be their girlfriend, (although I know that secretly a couple of them had crushes on me; something that they could never tell their friends, lest they made fun of them.
The funny thing was, their friends were also secretly flirting with me. *satisfied grin*), I was much happier being their "girl friend." This held much more credence, from what I could see. I got treated with WAY more respect.
Needless to say, the preppy girlfriends did not care for me, and that was okay. I have never quite cared for female friends compared to male ones, because we have not very much in common.
● If you want to go fishing, I'm your girl; shopping? Not so much (Michael who??).
Give me a good ol smelly pond over a shopping mall any day of the week!
● I prefer a good John Wayne western to a sappy chick flick any time (this excludes The Notebook and the Twlilght series - I mean, sometimes a girl just needs a good cry).
● Lets talk target-shooting: if I aim at it, I hit it. Case closed. Whether its tin cans lined up, or a bulleye tacked up on a tree, I'm pretty much a crack shot.
● Getting out into cemeteries, abandoned houses and other equally creepy places - at night. My very first investigation was of a reputedly haunted gravesite of a mass murderer (and his family that he murdered) was supposed to be over by dusk. We got lost, getting there way after dark; our only light source? Our video camera, in which the fully-charged battery promptly drained after starting the session.
So there you have it. These (among many other) things have brought very little doubt that I am not your average girl.
And I am so proud, I just cannot tell you!