Wednesday, January 31, 2024

WEP check-in and Stroke

 (WEP LOGO HERE)


I had a stroke in January. I'm typing with just my left hand on my phone. My right hand, the "write" hand, isn't fully recovered yet. So I am half-assing this. 


My meds got all mucked up. They gave me a nearly toxic dose of asprin. I had a respiratory attack while in the hospital. I am a damn mess.


My husband is still recovering from his toes amputation. He isn't allowed to return to work yet. The shoe people, only game in town, called with the cost of the shoes he's supposed to get.

πŸ˜…πŸ˜…πŸ€£πŸ€£πŸ€£πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜…πŸ˜…πŸ˜…

Omg. Prada? Louis Vuitton? 

And that price is after insurance. 

I don't know where they think someone would get that kind of money while out of work. 


I had to hang up on the girl. Because I didn't know what she wanted me to say. "Can I sell you a kidney?' Seriously, I did not know what to say to the girl. My husband would have never called in the first place if they mentioned the cost would be astronomical. 

For shoes he can't even wear to work.

Because they want him to wear steeltips. πŸ™„ 

To protect toes he no longer has.

And the docs say he will lose his legs if he does that, because his toeless scars will open and get infected.


So... yeah. 

And then there's the paperwork from his job.

"Due by Feb 2 or you're kicked out." 

What is due? 

"Go to the site."

There is no information on the site.


*SCREAMS*

THIS IS WHY I HAD A STROKE. I'm not kidding. Unum and FMLASOURCE sites wanting shit, threatening me, but can't say clearly WHAT they want or from which doctors. The hospital sent them records multiple times. They don't believe my husband had surgery on more than one date. Well, he did. Sorry?? I'm not a surgeon. What do you people want???


I just... 

This is my world right now. 168/102 BP 

No clue why my blood pressure is high... 😡‍πŸ’«πŸ˜‘


I'm tired.

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Interview with ... the Final WEP Flash Fiction

https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/2023/11/wep-december-challenge-over-to-you.html
WEP DEC 2023


Interview with the πŸ§›‍♂️


Jamie Dorner



The stench of bleach and ointment hits me first. Blinds blot out the light of the northwest facing room with flowers wilting on the windowsill. A steady beep comes from one of the many machines connected to the man. His fingers curl, beckoning me near. I hit record on my phone as I set it in the holder, placing it on the table as I sit. 

He watches me as I get settled. "I never found jeans to be comfortable. Any metal zipper, those jagged teeth, over my sensitive organ feels unnatural," he says with a wheezing cough. 

I motion to his body. "Cotton hospital gowns worn by hundreds of others suit you better?"

"Sassing me is not in your interest. These coverings help the caretakers. Another cruelty of my existence is no longer being permitted to select my own clothes." 

I nod. "You're the longest living patient in this hospice facility. Possibly the longest under this type of care in the country or world. I'm still researching. Does that sound right?"

"Records I'm sure to break. You want the story of my life?"

"The medical journal I write and podcast for is interested in you, yes. I also have a story going about a transplant patient. First one ever to get— "

An alarm sounds as his machine flatlines. In a blink, the machine goes silent. "There. So much better with these infernal gizmos shut off. Shall we begin?"

"How did you do that?" I ask as a nurse runs in. 

He hands her a paper. "Signed and notarized. Off with you."

I'm dumbstruck. "What just happened?"

"A bit of business. A signed DNR allows me freedom from the machines."

"But you'll die!" Possibly before my interview is done. I can't stream this if he dies.

"That truly would be something to behold. Imagine if you caught the first death of a vampire on your recording device."

I glance at my phone to verify it is recording. "Vampire?"

"Indeed."

"Literally?" I ask. 

"I would very much enjoy telling you my whole story."

"Are you planning to drink my blood? To kill me? To turn me?" 

He points to an empty IV blood bag. "I've already fed. Killing you would only complicate my situation. As for turning you, well, I haven't done that sort of thing in ages."

I take a deep breath. "There's a window in the room. Does that worry you? Or my crucifix necklace?"

"The sun is annoying because my eyesight is enhanced, so it's much brighter to me than you. That's why I requested a northwest facing room. Religious symbols don't bother me, which is more than I can say for much of humanity. And no, the garlic you ate with your lunch doesn't make a difference, if you were about to ask. Silver is just a metal, but mirrors from centuries ago were not as good. I'm not a bat and, most disappointing, I cannot fly. There was a time when I was the greatest jumper in the world, but my knees aren't what they once were."

"Your knees?" I cross my legs, feeling my own knees move in the process, something I normally don't notice. "But you're a vampire."

"Yes. I'm immortal. I don't die. Who started the rumor that not dying equates to healing? The parts may last longer but they still wear out. Shall we begin with my human life? It wasn't interesting. Or my vampire one? Or are you still only interested in my years in hospice after the doctors have given up, believing they can do nothing more?"

"So you will die?" I rub my head. I didn't expect this interview to go this way. 

"No. I'll leave here. Get a caretaker for my basic needs. And wait another decade or two for science to come up with something." 

"Are you lying? Did you shut off the machine so I wouldn't notice tiny fluctuations in your heartbeat?"

The question is barely asked before he has me against the wall, pinned by my neck with my feet dangling. I see darkness in his eyes as sharp fangs extend from his mouth. 

    
    
Word count = 685
Tagline= Interview With The Vampire πŸ§›‍♂️  opening scene with some twists
(Movie version. Though Anne Rice is listed as the main script writer.)

#WEPFF DECEMBER ’23 #OVER TO YOU



I'm very sad that this is the last flash fiction prompt from WEP. Since I joined my cousin in law in doing these, I've finally had something to blog which is comment worthy. Other than April A to Z and my political thoughts, I'm not sure this blog will see much of my time. I love that WEP gave me a reason to write a little every other month. I focus so much on others I forget to do what I love. Especially with the horrible NaNoWriMo controversy this year that resulted in a forum shutdown and many asking if they want to be affiliated.

I hope some of you will still drop by from time to time. And I really hope the book comes out!

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

The Phantom of the Opera #WEP #WEPFF Flash Fiction and life


https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/2023/10/wep-october-flashfiction-challenge.html


#WEP - October #FlashFiction Challenge - The Phantom of the Opera - Post October 18 - 20
"What did you find the most inspiring? Rich pickings here for interpretations - obsessive love, abduction, child abuse, period romance, horror, disfigurement and disability and their acceptance, body image and confidence, music and musical careers..."


Pic of John in hospital
This is what's going on in my life. My husband might have PHANTOM pains for his toes soon, because his right big toe got infected and they have cut off all the toes on his right foot (and one on the left). Diabetes is horrible. The surgeon says he'll be able to walk again, wear shoes, go back to work, etc. They say that, but they don't say when. They say he will need physical therapy, but they don't say for how long. No one mentions costs or what our insurance will cover. In fact, my husband has some kind of "hospital indemnity" (security or protection against a loss or other financial burden) that I'm trying to get activated because he pays for it every week... This is exhausting. The website is CRAP. I got 404 errors until it said to email someone. Seriously? They make getting help as difficult as humanly possible. Oh, and I thought they screwed up my husband's check this last week, shorting him by a HUGE amount. But no, it's that the first 8 hours he works (roughly) go to pay for insurance and benefits. πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡² Like the hospital indemnity one I can't get anyone to activate. 😑
benefits image

Unum site error


By the way, if you follow me on Instagram, I was hacked. I've tried to contact them every possible way, including πŸ“«✉πŸ“¬ sending an actual postal letter.
ACCOUNT HACKED! DO NOT USE!
Instagram icon
instagram.com/jamie.writer

ACCOUNT HACKED! DO NOT USE! Unfollow me! Ignore any messages. 
I am not "starting a clothing company" or any other scam the hacker says.


I'm going to try to squeeze NaNoWriMo in this year, but EVERYTHING depends on my husband's healing process. https://nanowrimo.org/participants/jamiewriter Open to Buddy requests.

Onto the story, which I wrote mostly on the Google Docs app on my phone because I've been away.

Aeolian-Skinner pipe organ

Phantom of the Boarded-Up House

By Jamie Dorner of Uniquely Maladjusted but Fun


"We dare you to follow Phantom tonight." PollyAnne rubs her chin as her lips curl into a mischievous grin. She's so beautiful. 

"You need to take a video to prove you were in the lair." Lilah wiggles her fingers and makes a ghostly woo sound. She's the youngest teen volunteer here.

"In or out?" Clint extends his muscular hand. His frayed letterman jacket cuff has a lipstick stain. It might be Lilah's. PollyAnne doesn't wear lipstick. 

This is it. My one chance to be part of their group. A chance PollyAnne will see me, not look through or past me. I shake Clint's hand. "I'm definitely in."



Phantom leaves the nursing home at eight, the same time as our teen volunteer group. The hood of a cloak is affixed around a face mask. Who wears a cloak? There's a rumor that the mask covers horrible burns. I follow Phantom onto the public bus. 

Stop after stop, the city lights brighten as the night darkens. Leaves fall as the bus pulls near the curb. I get off a moment after Phantom. Why travel all this way? 

I try to seem casual, scrolling on my phone as I follow without wanting to look like I'm stalking. Autumn leaves crunch under our feet. Phantom turns to a rusted gate. A squeaky protest rings out, sending a shiver down my spine. I duck behind a minivan. Phantom pulls out a hammer, uses the clawed end to free some nails, then pulls a boarded-up door open. 

I snap a picture for Clint as Phantom pockets the nails and slips inside.

A reply text comes. "That's the outside of a boarded-up house. You could be anywhere in the old former-rich part of town. Not good enough." 

I look around. Houses three times the size of mine crumble and rot all around me. Sale signs with years of grime flap in the autumn breeze. A rat climbs out of a decayed jack-o-lantern. Waste of food.

"Get away from my house!" 

I jump back. An old man in the minivan waves a shotgun at my face.

"This is my spot. Get your own!"

I put up my hands as I step back, sprinting once I'm far enough away. I go around the corner, locating the back of Phantom's place. Creepy music comes from within. Is that a piano? No, it's deeper, darker, a sound I've never heard. The windows are all boarded up. A tree rests against the back of the house, as if too old and exhausted to stand on its own. There are no leaves left on the branches. I jump the rusty fence. A loose board on the second floor has light flickering behind it.

PollyAnne, this is for her, this is my chance. I take off my belt and use it to help me climb the tree. I wish I were more prepared. Tools, knowledge on breaking into a house, a better flashlight than my phone can offer, anything. It's a struggle, and I nearly fall twice. Finally, I'm inside.

Cobwebs linger among moldy boxes. A small, lit lamp with horse cutouts on the shade spins on a dirty nightstand. I sneak through a path on the worn-down rug. The music pauses.

"Careful of the broken stair if you're coming down. There's nothing worthwhile to steal anymore, and you're not gonna want my body." The music restarts.

That is the weirdest response to breaking and entering I can imagine. I make my way down the creaking stairs. A centipede crawls up my leg. Phantom isn't joking about the broken one. I nearly fall through a hole as I brush off the myriapod. At the bottom, I turn on my phone's video recorder.

Phantom sits at the most peculiar-looking piano I've ever seen. Far too many keys in a strange tiered-arrangement. The wall is covered in vertical brass pipes.

"People can hear this for quite a distance. It's why they say the place is haunted. Guess I'm the ghost. Are you here to kill me?"

"No," I answer with a shaking voice. "I'm, uhh, well, it's kind of an initiation." I stop the video and press send. 

Phantom lights several candles on one holder. I've never seen something like that. 

"People once paid to learn from me. And paid more to hear me perform. Those days are long gone." Phantom pulls a thick leather book from a shelf. It opens to pictures printed out on paper. "What are you being initiated into?"

"It's this group of friends. See, there's this girl— "

"Ahh!" Phantom cuts me off. "Yes, I know something about that." Pages flip in the photo book. "That was mine. Christine. We didn't end up together, though." 

"Oh?" I choke on dust as I step nearer, the floor creaking under me.

Phantom taps the face mask. "When it's not true love, many obstacles can be too much for someone to overcome. She denied it with her dying breath. Still, I'm sure it wouldn't have worked out. I could never give her children. She should have become a mother. Terrible how it ended." 

I want to ask how she died. But what if the reason Phantom hides here is because there's an open murder investigation?

"Wow. Well, I'm gonna go." I cough as I get a whiff of a rotting stench. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for a concert? I'm not tired yet." 

"No, no, I should go check on the initiation. See about the girl. You know?" A chill goes through me. The candle flames flicker and puff out. 

"Oh, I do know. I'm just not sure I want break-ins to become a regular habit. You leaving so easily might be a problem." Phantom pounds on the keys, filling the cold air with eerie music. 


963 words FCA
Tagline: Teen initiation includes B&E to Phantom's ghostly concert.

Friday, September 29, 2023

Friday, September 1, 2023

Pink Ribbon

 Out of respect for her, I won't mention who I left this comment for originally. 

But I am sharing it here because there are too many people (women, men, people) who get breast cancer. 

My friend was lucky that she happened on a mammogram appointment while getting other tests. Lucky because they think they may have caught it early enough to possibly do something. But the plan for that something is not yet in place. 🀞

I wanted to reply with hope and support, but also to make her smile. She has a great smile and made me laugh so many times at work. 

My comment:

Big huge hugs. I hope they are able to help you and take care of your mental and emotional needs while dealing with the cancer. I know they said not to google info, but what about looking for a support group? To have other people who have gone through this and are best equipped to help you deal? 

I'm sorry, but I don't believe anyone who (was a/ identified as a) teenage boy is capable of fully grasping what growing boobs was like, and therefore cannot fully understand what surgery on them means mentally and emotionally for most people who have boobs they like. That's just my opinion. The first time you were grateful for them. The first time you hated them and wished they go away. The first time some strange old sales lady felt you up at the store so you could get a bra. The many times after that some sales lady felt you up in a store while saying you probably don't know your own bra size.  Trying on bras and questioning what drunk crackhead designed this and how he (definitely he) got the designs messengered from his mom's basement to a fashion place where they made it. Like, you go through a lot. And I just don't think a "mister doctor" can really understand that. Sympathetic? Sure. But I've never seen a sales dude at a sports store whip out the tape measure and grab another guy's junk, "You're probably wearing the wrong size cup, most men don't correctly measure their balls before shopping. Lift your leg, dear, let me get in there." 


(Dude, if I didn't at least make you crack a tiny smile picturing sports dudes measuring balls in a store, seriously... come on... )

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Holes

 There's this hole inside of me. Pain, grief, loss, darkness, ending. 

I don't remember the last time my mom and I hung out for fun. There are years where we hung out all the time. There are shows we watched together while sharing dinner many nights of the week. There were trips together, just us. We were best friends. We kept secrets for each other. We were sisters. We were so close.

But I got sick. I got chronically ill. I had problems beyond help. And it was too much. She had health problems too. Obviously. People don't just have heart attacks out of nowhere usually. 

But when was the last time we hung out, just the two of us? 

I don't know. But I feel like it was years. 

When my leg was all messed up, she took my husband to the store. For weeks. He knows the last time they hung out. 

I know we went to Shady Maple the Valentine's before she died. That's months before. Feb to Sept. That's months apart.

I know she took me to the hospital in May the year before that. That's not fun. That's not hanging out. 

The "new" 4 episodes of Gilmore Girls sat unwatched in my Netflix for a long time. I was waiting to watch it with her. We never did. She might have seen it on hers eventually. I don't know. She was busy.


So busy.


No one from her work came to her funeral. Once they had that tablet back, they never checked in again. 

She was strong for everyone. She did everything for everyone. She was the shoulder, the punching bag, the sounding board, the one who covered, the one who fixed. Sometimes the one who broke, and caught hell for it. The family keystone can't break, can't have a flaw. She inherited that role from my grandmother. I believe my grandmother got it when my great grandfather died, a few weeks before I was born. 


My dad almost died when my mom was pregnant with me. Fell asleep driving. How hard must that have been for her? 

I don't know if it ever got easier. 



The hole is so big. It's impossible to fill. It will never go away. It's never going to be okay. 

Just like the hole for my daughter.

Just sit here and watch as everyone dies. And eventually I'll be gone too. 

Who will take care of my husband? Who will be there for him when he says he doesn't need anyone? He's so good at pushing people away. I'm scared he won't let anyone help him, even if they try to help him for me, in my memory, to allow my soul to rest. But I'm also terrified that he'll go first. I don't want to be without him. I know I could, but I do not want to exist without him. There would be no point. 


The hole is very dark. And there is more than one hole. How many holes until there's nothing else? One minute it's lace, then threads, then nothing. 


Just words. I'm okay. 

Or as okay as I can be and there's really nothing to be done. 

The reason I know I'm okay? Because I can look at the pills controlling my menstrual cycle and know that the big emotions are out of balance because of where I am in my cycle. So I know all this will calm down. Without scientific evidence, I would NOT know I'll be okay. And then I would not be.  The darkness would win if I didn't have concrete evidence for my logical side to assure me that this is chemical and everything will be more manageable in a few days. I'm dependent on that evidence.

Monday, August 28, 2023

Bout of Books 38 Recap and Winning News

Bout of Books 38- August 2023 

boutofbooks.blogspot.com


https://twitter.com/PenMinion/status/1690055986310979594 My sign-up.
https://uniquelymaladjustedbutfun.blogspot.com/2023/08/bout-of-books-birthday.html Also on my blog.
As you can see, I'm doing this with a friend.

If you follow my blog, you also know my Instagram was hijacked during BoutOfBooks. Because I needed to take time from reading to deal with a hacker? 😑

A GOOD THING HAPPENED:



Chocolate and Death #WEPFF Flash Fiction won an award. Highly controversial flash fiction.


Back to my readathon wrap up with reviews:



This first book was J's pick.


Shattered: A Story of Betrayal and Courage by C. Lee McKenzie  ⭐⭐⭐


On the TV show Grey's Anatomy Season 9 Episode 13, there's a patient with a double hip replacement, a 13-year-old gymnast named Simmi Johnson. She does not want to do her physical therapy rehabilitation. Her dark negativity brings several of the doctors down. She was an Olympic hopeful and now she can barely walk. That patient from that episode reminded me of Libby in this book. Actually, the multitude of episodes where Arizona is obsessed with her left leg also reminded me of Libby. Except those were accidents, not sabotage. 

(I'm also reminded of the first Friday the 13th film. Even though this book isn't horror, there is a common bond.) 

There are things in the book that I do not understand. Overall, Libby seems to be very privileged. The family can afford a personal in-home therapist for rehab, a new car with handicapped driving controls, at least a three-bedroom house, a greenhouse, a remodeled handicapped-accessible bathroom, Olympic-level ski equipment and training, and regular trips to the lake. But Libby mentions how she once had to save money on haircuts? I don't understand that, especially considering the mom seems like a diva with serious beauty upkeep. 


I also could not work out the time toward the end of the book. Chapter 23 says there will be a race on Saturday and Sunday. No practice Friday before the race. Chapter 24, Libby goes to bed on Thursday night. She calls Harley in the morning, and they make plans for that day (Friday), leaving at 9am. They go to the village. Meet Dirk. Chapter 25, they go see Etta. Then they decide to stay in the area for the night at Parker's. They spend Chapter 26 going to sleep. Libby tells her dad they're staying another day. That's where I got confused because there's supposed to be a race on Saturday, so is she ditching her team? But hang on. Chapter 27, they wake up before dawn. It is, therefore, Saturday. At 4am, they get to their destination. Chapter 28, they go see Peter. Then Grady's Cafe. The sun is now topping the mountain. They drive for three hours. Shelby has ten others in line ahead of them. Libby and Harley have been awake for seven hours (so it's 11am?) They keep falling asleep. And then they get the Friday introductory rate, after a conversation verifying that it is Friday not Saturday. Except it has to be Saturday? Because they left Friday at 9am on this quest, went to sleep, and started again the next morning which has to be Saturday. Right? In the late afternoon of this magical day (Friurday), they stop for food and coffee. Then they are stuck because two smart girls did a dumb. Chapter 29, the sun dips low. There's a conversation with an elderly woman. The moon is out. It's now "nine." The race is at "six." By Chapter 30, it's after seven. They have to stop for vitals, then it's seven-thirty. Now Libby has to be there by "ten" instead of by "six." This is justified because she's missing warm-ups. At nine-thirty, they're forty-five minutes away. She's late but somehow makes it anyway. Then after the race (which is allegedly on Saturday), she makes plans with Ash for "tomorrow night at six." Chapter 32, she's getting ready to go see Ash. Okay, so the plan was for "tomorrow." The tomorrow that normally follows Saturday is called Sunday. But the tomorrow that follows "Friurday" is Saturday, apparently. I am so freaking confused! Libby tells her mom she's rowing the next day. Then there's a voicemail and Libby realizes something about the race taking place tomorrow. Meaning it's Saturday again, or Friurday. She goes to dinner at Ash's. He toasts to the win "yesterday." Meaning it's definitely Sunday. What happened to the race that was supposed to take place on Sunday? "It was such a close one today." Oh, so maybe that race took place? Okay. "Are you up for tomorrow's big race?" WHAT? So is there a third race on Monday that was never mentioned before? Friurday might be Friursunday. The chapter ends with him mentioning getting sleep before the next race. Chapter 33, she gets up and goes to the race. No other race is mentioned for the next day. So, logically, it was Sunday. But the dinner with Ash was Saturday, even though the plan was for the next night. As I said, it made no sense to me. I could not work out the timeline.


Marcus is seventeen when we first meet him. In Chapter 42, we learn that Marcus will be an adult "in a couple of years." What age is adulthood there? 


"The only way to dispel doubts is to investigate." I really loved it when Harely said that. 


I thought the character development was good. Libby definitely changes and evolves through the book, and the reader certainly gets to see it. Some of the other characters also improve. The mystery villain who orchestrated the accident made sense to me. Other than the inconsistencies in days and finances, I thought the book was okay. It was different from the usual books I enjoy. 


This is my honest review of a book I borrowed from a family member. 

Shattered Excerpt



This next book was my pick.


Books by Dori Aleman-Medina

Christian Garcia Is Fu*king Obsessed (21 Boys Later Book 2) by Dori Aleman-Medina  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This book was so fun to read. It was a birthday gift sent to me by the author whom I've known online since MySpace, thanks to our shared love of books, games, and scrapbooking. This is my honest review. These characters are absolutely amazing and so very well developed. They have all kinds of problems and struggles to deal with, which keeps the plot moving quickly along. There were some really fun throwbacks to the first book. The heat is dialed up to eleven, making it romance nudging on the side of erotica. The setting came alive. There's a school for special needs children that sounds so well-funded and devoted to really helping children excel. I couldn't help but wonder how much a detective and a cake bakery owner earn a year because they seem to be doing really well. 

There are trigger warnings because things do get dark. Language, s3x, violence, adult subject matter, teens having consensual s3x in complicated relationships, and mental health issues all come up. I'd like to warn you about tacos. Because, listen, there's a gathering at the house, and there are tacos. "Leftover tacos," which I've never heard of leftover ones... but the point is that you might want to stock up on some tacos beforehand. And probably milkshakes as well. I could also mention chocolate cake, but if you've read the first book, you already know what that means. 

If you're looking for a steamy hot romance book with lots of drama and suspense, this is the book I'd recommend to you.



This final book was our quick pick.


Binti by Nnedi Okorafor   ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Phenomenal science fiction. I learned about real-world places and cultures while flying through space and discovering alien species that are dealing with problems that are very much like ones here on Earth. There's an episode of The West Wing (Season 2, Episode 10, NoΓ«l) that reminds me of the conflict because of what C.J. discovers about a woman in a tour group in that show. I enjoyed the resolution offered in the book. It ends with the main character evolving physically, mentally, and emotionally after having faced and succeeded against many serious challenges. There is a scene of violence in this book that may trigger some readers. This is my honest review.




What have you read and reviewed lately?