What I SHOULD Have Said

Published on October 15, 2012 by hearingelmo7 Comments

I’m not really a history buff like some of my siblings, but I do like to watch the occasional autobiographical movie or read books on real people. I have, however, always been an Abraham Lincoln fan. I’m so excited about the new movie coming out and hope it does not disappoint. (Lincoln – the trailer). Needless to say, I’m also a big fan of President Lincoln’s quotations. Many of them I have memorized from my childhood and throughout my life.

In preparing for this post, a quote of President Lincoln’s came to mind: “I will prepare and some day my chance will come.”

I’m a big fan of using hindsight to our advantage. One of my favorite training exercises at Fidos For Freedom, Inc., is role playing… actually putting ourselves in scenarios where we face incredulous, doubtful strangers, belligerent business owners, or even just curious but nosy bystanders. These exercises have allowed me to practice what I need to say – not IF – but WHEN I need to have the words to explain my need for Chloe. I know I may need to defend my right to mitigate my disability with an assistance dog.

Experience Can Be a Harsh Teacher

Did you ever have something happen that was totally unfair? Feelings of righteous indignation and self-preservation well up and literally choke the words right out of you? I’m one of those poor folks who rarely says what I should have said at exactly the right moment. Instead, my feelings are hurt; or, I’m madder than a wet hen. Not… that I’ve ever seen a wet hen despite my childhood experiences of owning and caring for chickens, but I digress..

Ever replay a hurtful or confrontational conversation over and Over and OVER again in your head… thinking about what you SHOULD have said? Well I take Abraham Lincoln’s advice to heart. “I will prepare and some day my chance will come.” Now I’m the first to admit that one can perseverate on a past hurt and be much worse off than if you just let it go. I’m a planner though (at times to a fault).

If my feelings are just hurt and it is someone I don’t know well, I just let it go (though I may replay the entire horrible episode to my patient husband). If it is someone I have a relationship with, I may decide to let them know that I didn’t like how the conversation went and came away hurt and would like to discuss it some more. However, most of the things that hurt my feelings or ruffle my – erm – feathers, are comments from total strangers or mere acquaintances.

How many of you have heard these comments? :

But you don’t LOOK sick.

You were just fine yesterday. What’s wrong today?

You are feeling poorly AGAIN?

Are you ever well?

You seemed to hear me fine the other day on the phone.

Don’t you get tired of being so lethargic?

I think you are just low-energy.

You are such a drama queen!

Are you sure it isn’t all in your head?

I love my dog too, but I don’t self-diagnose a disability just so I can be with them all day.

Maybe you should see a counselor…

I knew you the first 20 years of your life. There was nothing wrong with you then!

Is this all for attention?

Don’t you worry how your family will feel having to pick up the slack?

People with invisible disabilities, illness or chronic conditions often LOOK just fine. Being late-deafened, I speak with little or any “deaf accent” or enunciation issues. With a cochlear implant and hearing aid (a bi-modal, hearing again peep with BLING), I often hear voices well unless there is a lot of background noise. If it is a sunny day, I not only may have very little “wobble” in my step, I may actually be able to move fast. So to look at me – well, I look fine! But on rainy days or in environments with tons of LOUD surround sound, vertigo can hit me like a freight train and cause me to walk as if I’m intoxicated. I usually clam up because if I speak I may vomit. (I’m serious…)

I have friends here in Maryland, and cyber friends I have come to know across the nation – many of whom are fellow bloggers. They have fibromyalgia and/or chronic fatigue syndrome. Some have assistance dogs, some do not. Some have been diagnosed with Lymes disease. Have you ever thought about how difficult it must be to have a chronic pain condition? And oh my goodness… talk about your invisible conditions! If you don’t know the person well enough to see the pain-filled eyes or pinched expression, you would never know that every step is excruciating – that even their clothing rubbing against their skin actually hurts.

Prepare – it Empowers

Those of you who live a life described above or know someone who does, my advice is to prepare. Use hindsight to your advantage. Think about an encounter that really hurt you – or made you squawk. Chances are, you will hear it again. (I know – GROAN – right?) Plan and prepare, even practice what you will say in the future should that same thing happen again. This can actually empower you to face that “next time” with a little more certainty and courage.

But Be Careful…

I do have some warnings, however. Even good things can become bad things.

1. Don’t be consumed by the preparation.

If all you think about is being prepared for a calm but meaningful/careful reprimand, you may unleash it with venom or saccharin sweetness. Your intent becomes a premeditated choice to wound. You end up saying the wrong thing or say it unkindly and in an offensive, war-like manner.

It could also become a set-up or scenario of revenge. Trust me. You do NOT want to live that way. (Tried it – not a winner any way you look at it).

Use your time wisely in reflection and preparation, but then let it go. If you are thinking about it constantly it should “wave the red flags” for you that it has become an obsession instead of a tool to develop positive responses.

2. Don’t look for what is not there.

After wobbling into the edge of the stove and spilling my coffee, I heard my husband sigh beside me. I turned (aimed) and yelled, “What? You think I like spilling everything I carry? You think I enjoy getting burned? Do you think I…”

He cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my arm. “Denise. I sighed because someone ate all my Lucky Charms.”

OH.

If you are reading this and KNOW someone who has an invisible condition, may I give you some advice? I know it must be frustrating to not ever really understand HOW to help or WHEN to help. But the best thing you can do? Listen and believe.

Denise Portis

Note to Self: :-)

Published on September 3, 2012September 3, 2012 by hearingelmo5 Comments

Sometimes I have to actually remind myself to smile. Don’t get me wrong! I have plenty to smile about! I have healthy kids who just happen to be great human beings. I’m married to the love of my life (26 years!). In spite of hearing loss and Meniere’s disease I have what I feel like is a good “game plan”. I have coping skills that work – most of the time. But you know something? I still forget to smile.

Why I Forget…

1. I get too busy

I stay busy to give myself a sense of purpose. A bored Denise, one with too much time on my hands, is a depressed Denise. It’s not that I don’t take the necessary time to decompress, meditate, and think deeply. I do! But there is a “fine line” between taking time to do these things and having too much time to do these things.

Staying busy helps me to feel purposeful and even necessary. I hope to one day get to the point where I can be less busy and still feel purposeful. But heck… even my favorite scripture verses and quotes are ones about being productive and busy! However, I can get SO busy, I forget to actually enjoy the things I am doing. I forget to smile. Happiness is often a CHOICE, but if I get too busy I may forget to make that choice.

2. I’m hanging out with negative people

Sometimes it cannot be helped. You may work with negative people. Geesh. You may LIVE with negative people. It takes a special kind of person for that not to rub off on you eventually. Ever walk into a room extremely content and happy with life and run into a sour puss? Negative vibes may just ooze out of their pores. And darn, but if they didn’t set their sights on you and pin you down to complain. I’ve left the company of folks feeling shell-shocked. It can be hard to be with these people, yet I also believe that I need to take opportunities to minister to them if I can. It may be just listening. It may be that I can let them know I’ll pray for them. Yet, I certainly do not seek these people out to deliberately spend time with them.

Back when letters were still written (instead of email or FaceBook messages), I remember cringing when I would get a letter from a “certain someone”. Their news was never good news. Talk about a wet blanket. It was hard to plow through all the negative lines penned by this very sad person, but I also felt compassion for them as I knew it had to be a hard way to live.

The thing about negativity though is that it is very contagious. It matters not if you’ve recently been vaccinated. Few of us have the antibodies to fight off this contagious infection if we have to be with folks like this. I really do try to limit what time I spend with people like this. It can be hard if you must see them often though. I have a friend who is married to a negative soul. She loves him. But with premeditation, she must find time away from him during the week to spend time with people who are not like he is. He has become “less” negative through the years, but I doubt he’ll ever change completely. To combat being drug down into the same pity parties, she has to find people to insulate her to negative thinking. It works for her.

Why It Can be Hard to Smile, but Necessary

One of my good friends has fibromyalgia. Frankly, it is really difficult for her to smile on days her body is in a full “fibro flare”. She does some things to help during these times as she doesn’t want to go throughout the day ROARING at everyone. She loves eating a Wendy’s Frosty and she only has one when she is having a bad pain day. She has “feel good” music that she listens to in the car if she has to go out. She has a stack of favorite books that she only reads when she has to curl up into a ball of pain and “deal with it”. She has cats and claims they are therapeutic. She has a short list of people she will call when she is sobbing and needs a smile. She has a plan. She knows how important it is to smile through the pain (her words, not mine).

Earlier I said that happiness is a choice. This is actually the title of one of my favorite books by Minirth & Meier. Joy is different than happiness. I believe that joy is a heart emotion. We can be sad at the graveside of a loved one, with tears raining down our faces, yet feel joy. Joy for the life they lived and memories you have with them. A person can have joy and have just lost their job, their boyfriend, or their goldfish. But happiness? Happiness is a choice. Sometimes we have to choose to be happy EVEN WHEN IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE.

This doesn’t mean it is fake. A deliberate choice to smile and be happy is simply a proactive way to entice our thinker to change our feeler. It’s not magic. It’s not a secret formula. Nope! I am not saying that we should never belly-ache, cry, scream, or throw things. (Well, perhaps the last we can let go of forever, hmmm?)

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.
Abraham Lincoln
16th president of US (1809 – 1865)

I don’t know your story. I do not walk in your shoes. I do know that my own shoes are not always comfortable. They can leave blisters. We can get in a habit of thinking negatively and in frowning. I know I have done this myself. I may have to leave myself notes or messages to “smile more”.

I don’t always do this perfectly. Sometimes invisible illness and disability wipe out my happiness savings account. At various times, I have had to seek counseling to really get back on track. Perhaps I’ve let myself go to long without smiling? There’s no shame in having to receive help in remembering HOW and WHY to smile.

Smiling may be like the Red Cross to a person in need. Smiling may make someone’s day. Someone may be having a bigger poopy day than you are. Even my dogs respond to a smile with a tail wag. Frankly? I like to see other folk’s tails wag. Smiling sends a message – a positive one. Maybe I’ve taken too many classes on Cognitive Psychology, but I truly believe how we think can change how we feel. So I believe we have to really work on thinking positively. I try to make my face match my self talk. Smile, Denise… smile! Make it a habit and you may eventually feel the corners of your heart tug up in an answering grin as well.

I’ll leave you with an oldie – but one I think says a great deal about why we should smile. You may even need to make a note to “self”.

Denise Portis

They May Not Get It

Published on August 27, 2012August 27, 2012 by hearingelmo7 Comments

(Hey… I’m not an artist! But have you ever felt this way?)

One of the questions I am asked the most by folks who contact Hearing Elmo, is “Why doesn’t my family accept and understand who I am NOW?”

Before I even begin writing, let me express my hope that many of you will respond and share as I am very aware I do not have all the answers.

Why It Hurts

1. It hurts because the transition from “normal” to where you are was painful.

The school of hard knocks is – well – hard. Acquired disabilities and invisible/chronic illness are not easy to get use to when they first change a person. The journey from diagnosis to acceptance is a hard one. It hopefully has made us “better” and not “bitter”. I can attest to feeling stronger, more confident, and much more in tune with who I really am post-disability. Some of us have progressive symptoms and illnesses. We may adjust, only to have to do so again in a year or so. This too can grow us. But honey? It isn’t easy.

However, BECAUSE it was hard, it is hurtful when folks who knew us WHEN (back before our diagnosis), don’t accept or try to understand who we are NOW. We are still the same people. Our personalities have not changed. Our strengths and weaknesses are all still present – although you may have developed some new strengths because of your life path. So it is difficult when family members may sometimes be the hardest to teach how to talk to us now that we have a hearing loss. Or perhaps you are frustrated because a family reunion at a theme park is not ideal for you because you cannot ride any of the rides. Maybe you are utilizing a wheelchair, walker, or cane. A picnic and hike may not be a good way for you and your siblings to catch up – even if it has been a year since you’ve seen each other.

It’s not like we want recognition for the pain we’ve experienced. We aren’t looking for a medal. However, seeing any eye rolls or hearing frustrated sighs serve only to remind us our family

STILL

DOESN’T

GET

IT.

2. You expect your family members to care enough to accept you.

It’s not wedding vows. “In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer…” But we have a reasonable expectation that our family members are going to love us and be there for us regardless. It doesn’t matter if we acquire a disability. We are still the same person. If Lymes disease has you aching and feverish a week out of every month, we expect compassion, not disdain. If CFS or MS has you weary, tired, and feeling as energetic as a centenarian, you expect understanding and maybe an offer to run an errand for you. If your eyesight is worsening due to various illness or disorders, you never expect frustrated outbursts when you explain you don’t have a ride to go to your nephew’s graduation.

But friends? Family members can need educating. Advocacy may begin at home. We wish it wasn’t necessary, but it may be very necessary. My kids grew up with me at best, hard-of-hearing. My husband, however, knew me before hearing loss. So I have to be willing to tell (nicely) him what works and what doesn’t. Don’t be surprised if it takes numerous lessons. Some heads are thicker than others.

What to Do

Talk to them. I’d elaborate, but honestly? You need to talk to them. Explain how you feel. Be willing to be vulnerable. Start with phrases that explain specifics and not general accusations. Example:

“When you sigh as I wobble into a shelf at the store it really hurts my feelings. I can’t help it when my world ‘twirls’. It’s hard enough to face the stares and hear the whispered remarks from strangers. I expect better from you. I expect your support.”

They May Never Get it

We can choose our friends, but we don’t choose our family. Blood is blood and it simply cannot be changed. However, you do not have to put up with people who ridicule you or try to injure you with words. You do not have to deliberately spend time with people who only make you feel worse. Sometimes? Sometimes those toxic people are family members. I hate it for you. I hate it for me. But it can be the painful truth.

Sometimes those friends that we choose? They become family. Maybe not by blood. Perhaps not by legal adoption. But folks who encourage us, lift us up, make us better people, understand, lend compassion and energy? They can become like family members. My heart’s desire is that you will find some folks like this if you haven’t already.

I welcome your thoughts on this. Knowing family members may grieve the person they once knew, or have trouble adjusting to the fact you are “differently abled” is important. Be patient. But also put healthy boundaries in place to keep unhealthy people from de-railing your progress with your own adjustments.

Denise Portis

It’s Not Easy Being Green

Published on August 20, 2012 by hearingelmo5 Comments

I love Kermit. For the record, I loved Kermit before Miss Piggy loved Kermit. In the early 70’s, Kermit first poignantly croaked out that “it’s not easy being green”. Being green was something he could not help. It simply was.

This song has since been associated with people lamenting their own self-identity, yet coming to terms with “it being what it is”. By the end of the song, Kermit admits it’s OK to be green and that it is how he wants to be.

Am I OK Being This Way?

Something I have struggled with in acceptance of acquired disabilities is “the new me”. You see… I wasn’t born green. I can’t even say the transformation was similar to the beautiful miracle and mystery of a caterpillar changing into a butterfly.

And yet… it’s not like I asked to be late-deafened. It’s not like I asked to have a balance disorder like Meniere’s disease. But just like Kermit being green, it is what it is. There is no changing it.

So if this is me now, am I OK with it? Anyone with acquired disabilities ever struggle with that acquisition? If I asked for a show of hands, you’d first notice my own raised palm. I think you’d also notice a great number of hands. You aren’t alone.

Like many of you, I feel good about who I am much of the time. But I’d be lying if I said it’s always easy to be me. It’s not. So what to do?

Acceptance ≠ Resignation

I’ve never heard a person with acquired disability or chronic illness say, “This is easy”. It’s not. Yet do you know what I have discovered? I have this fuzzy, old memory of “life before disability” and IT STILL WASN’T EASY. My friends? Life is not easy. If you haven’t figured that out yet then you are still very young. Or, perhaps you are a frog.

I am discovering that acceptance of where I am (or even where I may end up), does not mean that I give up. Nor does it mean that I am resigned to an unhappy, unfulfilled life with no chance of ever giving back or having a purpose.

I get some “flack” with some of my readers about using the word “disability”. Rest assured, I welcome ALL opinions and discussion about the posts here at Hearing Elmo, as do the guest writers who participate. Some have suggested that using the term disability lowers one’s expectations and influences self-esteem. I understand the argument and point of view by those who believe this. I use the term because it is the terminology used by the ADA which ultimately protects my rights as a person with disability. It is about my freedom as a person who negotiates life a little differently. You may use disabled, differently-abled, special challenges, etc. In the end though it is green; though some may call it lime, olive, or chartreuse.

So today, August, 20, 2012, I am a person with disabilities. It’s not easy. But it isn’t impossible. Bottom line, because of who I am today, I compromise. I’m going to Hershey Park with a big group of couples from our church. I’m the self-designated pocket book holder. I won’t be riding any rides. I cannot. But I anticipate a day of fun and fellowship with other folks my age. I don’t choose not to go. For me, that would be giving up so it is not an option.

I don’t use the phone well, but I can use captioned phones, assistive technology, and my cochlear implant to make do. I use email a lot – and yes, FaceBook too. I walk like the world is in motion – especially on rainy days. Yes, yes, I know. The world IS in motion, but trust me! My earth’s rotation is faster than YOUR earth’s rotation. So I often walk with a cane. I have an assistance dog who counter-balances, and retrieves things I drop. I say, “Whoa!” a lot.

Don’t Pin a Super Hero Cape on Me!

Before you pin a super hero cape on me, please know that I don’t always have good days. I don’t always wake up and believe I can take on the world. I do not always look in the mirror and like what I see. There are times I worry about where I am in terms of what I can and cannot do. What is important, I believe, is what you do after having those very normal feelings. Worried? Totally normal. Depressed? This can be a very normal reaction. Pissed? Believe it not, being angry is a normal response to acquired disability. When you STAY worried, depressed, or pissed it becomes a problem. Don’t be afraid to talk to others. Perhaps you need to see a counselor. Maybe you need to do something just for YOU to work off some of that negative steam.

You will never hear me say it’s easy being green. It’s not. But acceptance of where we are allows us to then LIVE and even to give back – to be productive and have a life of purpose. Just like Kermit croaks, we may not be sparkly and flashy like others. Within each of us is the desire to discover and acknowledge that our being green – is OK. Perhaps even good.

I welcome your thoughts on this!

Denise Portis

It’s Not Easy Being Green lyrics

It’s not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer
being red or yellow or gold
or something much more colorful like that.

It’s not that easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things.
And people tend to pass you over
’cause you’re not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
or stars in the sky.

But green’s the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big
like an ocean
or important like a mountain
or tall like a tree.

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it’ll do fine
it’s beautiful!
And I think it’s what I want to be.

Unexpected Perk, or Bother?

Published on August 7, 2012September 20, 2012 by hearingelmo4 Comments

Several of the emails I receive through Hearing Elmo each week are questions about assistance dogs. This week is actually “Assistance Dog Awareness Week“, so I wanted to take a few minutes to talk about life with an Assistance Dog.

The first thing I always tell people who have questions is that if you are not prepared for the fact that an assistance dog will draw attention to you, then PREPARE YOURSELF. More importantly? If you are not comfortable with the attention, then an assistance dog is not for you.

Because I have a hearing loss and because I don’t hear well in stores or crowded places, I am oblivious to all the comments my family members DO hear. “Look at the dog!” “Oh look, a working dog!” “Why is that dog in here?” “Mom, why does that lady have a dog in here and why is it wearing a saddle?”

Assistance dogs lend independence to those who chose to mitigate their disability or illness with these special canines. I never worry about missing a phone call. I can do laundry without assistance from a human family member. I no longer burn supper. I always know when someone is at the door. I can shop and go out in public and never worry about not being able to bend and pick something up – important as I constantly drop things.

Some things you may not know that are actually perks of having an assistance dog?

1. Pre-Chloe, a routine doctor’s visit would result in the 3rd degree about why I always have so many bruises. It can be tiresome to field questions about whether or not I’m in an abusive relationship, when I simply fall or run into things a great deal because of Meniere’s disease. Now, Chloe lends legitimacy to those bruises. She reminds doctors why I have bruises because folks don’t go to the doctor with a dog partner if they didn’t need the assistance.

2. I’m rarely bumped into or shoved out of the way now in public. When you don’t hear well in these venues, impatient shoppers who don’t give a “fig” about why you are standing looking at dancing electronic flowers in the garden department, assume I’m being stubborn about moving to let them by. Now they see Chloe and if she doesn’t notice them and cue me, they carefully maneuver around me.

3. I never receive comments like “It’s a little early to be drinking isn’t it?” or “You should be ashamed of yourself” when I’m seen weaving a bit on rainy weather days (comments that have really been made). In the past, if I slammed into an end cap in a store, those around me assumed I was high or drunk. Now people see Chloe and think OR SAY, “Gee, it’s great she has that dog to help her”.

4. I’ve grabbed onto a fellow client’s scooter before (sorry, John) when I almost fell down. He understood. However, when what you grab is a nearby shopping cart, others aren’t as understanding. I once had a grandmotherly person stick her finger in my face and sternly say, “Let… GO”. I mumbled an apology and went my way. Now that I have Chloe, the most anyone will say in a “near swoon” moment is “Are you OK?”

Assistance dogs help people with hearing loss, mobility issues, seizure alert, PTSD, diabetes/blood sugar alerts, vision loss, balance problems, fine motor skill difficulties, and much more. I hope the next time you see someone with an assistance dog in public that you maybe take a minute and tell them that you think their independence with their canine is a great testament to courageous people. Don’t pet the dog or distract it though (grin).

Denise Portis

Round and Round She Goes, Where She Stops…

Published on July 30, 2012September 20, 2012 by hearingelmo6 Comments

… is USUALLY on her nose.

If you live with invisible disabilities or chronic illness, have you ever stopped and tried to make sense of it all? More often should I choose to do this, I find it simply doesn’t make sense. What can be more difficult, however, is trying to help someone ELSE understand what it is like to be a little “different”.

The words disability is a like a nasty tasting curse word to many. Personally? I’m not afraid of the word because it does currently define my rights under the ADA – something I wish wasn’t necessary but is in order to make sure that those who navigate life differently have the same access and rights as everyone else. I’m not here to today to discuss the WORD, however. I am here to bellyache.

A friend of mine posted a link to a terrific article currently taking up space at Invisible Illness Awareness Week. It detailed why it is important to just LISTEN sometimes. You can access the article HERE.

I belong to a number of online support groups for people with Meniere’s disease. I’ve never met anyone with symptoms exactly like mine. As a matter of fact, Meniere’s disease often frustrates perplexed physicians who are trying to help treat the disease. However, because there is no cure, one can only learn to manage and treat the symptoms. What may help one person, does not help another at all.

My assistance dog, Chloe, from Fidos For Freedom Inc., is a big blessing. Originally trained to be a hearing dog, she still performs all her hearing alerts with finesse and enthusiasm. As a matter of fact, 7 AM came WAY to early yesterday morning when my alarm went off. I tried to tell her to go back to bed and stop kissing my hand, elbow, and right ear. My husband rolled over and said, “Hello? Your alarm is going off!” Oh.

But Chloe actually helps me with far more balance related tasks each day than she does hearing alerts. I tried to “track it” one day and she performed 17 hearing alerts (alarm, kitchen timer, automatic retrieve of items I’d dropped and hadn’t heard, door knock, and cell phone ringing) and over 40 “other” tasks. (I quit counting after 40). These usually consist of directed retrieves. I drop things. I drop things a lot. Picking them up myself takes time as a bend all the way to the floor often precedes a fall. To avoid that, I simply let her get them for me. She also acts as a steady brace when I stand, sit, or go up/down stairs. She also acts as a brace if I begin to weave in a large cavernous place. The picture I chose for this post reminds me how bad my visual field was on Saturday. I ran into the mall with my husband to pick up something at a favorite store. When sound echoes, I tilt. (Picture Denise, aka Leaning Tower of Portis). Chloe has a large handle on the top of her vest that works perfectly. On my lower left is a solid helper that keeps my world from being quite so off center. I’ve been in JCPenney before and let go of her handle to look at some clothing on a sales rack. I immediately felt “swishy” because of the tall ceilings and lights. I grabbed out to keep from falling and clutched the breast of a nearby mannequin. I don’t make these things up. Thank goodness she/it wasn’t real, right?

Yet there are things Chloe cannot help me with, too. Here are some things about Meniere’s disease that surprise some folks:

1. Scrolling words or moving backgrounds on PowerPoints make me sick.

Our church places the words to songs and notes for the message on the walls in the sanctuary. This is very helpful for anyone with hearing problems… or ADHD (smile). However, sometimes there are moving points of light or star bursts that move behind the words or notes. I’m fine as long as I’M SITTING.

2. I have to sit to brush my teeth.

Yeah. I know, I know! Strange! But there is something about moving a toothbrush around in my mouth while in a standing position. I have to sit, and there are days I actually have to close my eyes on top of that!

3. Stepping down can be problematic.

This one really bugs me. On sunny days (weather is a trigger for me), I love to hike and climb around. I love rocks. Big rocks. I love heights (believe it or not). However, stepping down more than 6 inches is enough change in my altitude that I black out. It may only be for a few seconds, but if both feet are not on the ground, I’ll be picking blades of grass out of my nose hair. Chloe has learned that a “Whoa!” from me means

Move.

NOW.

4. Must… AVOID… looking… at ROTATING things (gasp)

Ceiling fans are not my friend. Neither are signs hung from ceilings when the air conditioner vents blow on them to make them twirl. For me this means heave, deep breath, heave again. I’m serious. 🙂

5. I shower while looking at my feet.

I didn’t realize how difficult it can be to get clean when you can’t look up at the shower head. Raise your eyes to reach up for shampoo or your razor? Honey? Do you want to get up close and personal to the DRAIN? Heaven help the family member who moves my shampoo or washrag from their designated place. I count on where they are so that I can shower safely… while looking at my chipped toenail polish.

6. Watching the effect of the wind can topple me too!

We’ve had some terrific storms lately. Since it has brought much needed rain, I’ve been loathe to complain. I love standing on the deck and watching the wind blowing the towering pines behind our home. Clarification: I like hanging on to the rail of our deck and watching the wind blow the towering pine trees behind our home.

7. Gingery’s Baby Pegasus can be mesmerizing to my detriment.

My daughter’s 12 pound hairless Chinese Crested likes to spin. For fun. Imagine that. It is quite captivating, but it only means CAPSIZING for me. “Look away, Denise, Look AWAY!”

8. I fuss at my son’s stomach.

My son… you know the one who was 7 weeks premature? He is 6 foot 3 inches tall. He’s a terrific kid. However, even at 21-years-old, he still needs the occasional “mama sermon”. I dare not look up, Up, UP into his eyes. One isn’t able to reiterate needed reminders when flat on the floor. Instead I point my finger and give his belly and chest “what for”. The kid laughs at me. LAUGHS. (sigh)

9. Glass elevators have speckled carpet.

I know this because I only see the carpet in glass elevators. Why not solids? Stripes? Only speckles. This confuses me.

10. I remind my doctor that I will NOT hold my breath while he’s listening to my ticker.

Because… well otherwise I’m waking up with nurses, hound dog, and doctor crowded around. (Why crowd someone who has swooned? Can I just ask that?)

Like many people who get up every morning and “manage” their symptoms, I hope perhaps I’ve helped you understand balance disorders a little better. Feel free to share your own “management techniques”.

Denise Portis

Another Look at Isolation

Published on July 23, 2012 by hearingelmo12 Comments

Hearing Elmo welcomes Melissa Sisco, from Alabama to our list of talented writers who have learned to “write from the heart”. Melissa is the mother of two young daughters. She was first diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease in 2007, and also has asthma/allergies, a heart condition, weak bones, endometriosis, and diabetes Type II. Melissa admitted that “Meniere’s Disease has been the single most challenging medical diagnosis I have experienced in my 32 years”.

I’m not really sure why I’m attempting to do this. I’m not much of a writer; at least I haven’t been for a very long time. But writing is one thing that, luckily, I can still do. I really connected to the last piece that Denise wrote because I am right there, right now. Alone and isolated. I don’t go out much at all, especially by myself.

In brief summary, my name is Melissa, I am a late-deafened adult, 32 year old female, married for 9 years (to an amazingly understanding husband), mother of 2 beautiful girls, ages 3 and 5. I was first diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease in my left ear when my oldest was 4 months old. I woke up one morning and could not hear anything out of my left ear and I was so dizzy I couldn’t even sit up straight in bed. About two years ago I joined the ranks of the Bilateral, but am lucky to only have moderate hearing loss in my right ear. I wear an obscenely expensive digital hearing aid in my left ear (sometimes) and I need one in my right ear, but just can’t afford it right now. I am not Deaf enough to qualify to be a member of the Deaf community where I live, and I am apparently “wrong” for choosing a hearing aid. But I can’t hear enough to qualify for the Hearing World anymore either. I feel lost in limbo. I simply belong nowhere.

Why It Can be Difficult

I used to enjoy simple things like shopping, (especially shoe shopping) but now I avoid shopping trips as they make me nervous and, frankly the last time I did go out, (to my favorite shoe store) I literally knocked over a little old lady who was standing directly behind me. I didn’t know she was there, couldn’t hear her or sense her at all. I backed up from a store display to get a better view and plowed that precious little woman straight into a mannequin. I was so embarrassed, I apologized profusely as other patrons helped her up and glared at me like I was the devil incarnate. I left the store and haven’t gone back since.

At work I hide in my cubby hole of an office (it’s actually the records closet and my office). Once upon a time, I was a 911 dispatcher, and I was really good at it. I did that for nearly 8 years, before my hearing loss reached the point where I can no longer do that job safely. I was lucky to not have been let go, and I am now relegated to some sort of mish/mash office manager and dispatch supervisor. I know I am unbelievably blessed just to have a job, but I avoid even my coworkers now because most of the time I have no idea what they are saying, so I just nod my head and try to wear my neutral “yes I understand” expression, which is a big fat lie. I have a strong aversion to my work desk phone. It’s set as loudly as possible, yet I still have to ask people to repeat. (My employer is working on getting me a CapTel phone, but our system is slow as molasses). Sometimes, when I see a number from someone I know I have a particularly hard time understanding (ahem –soft spoken females like me), I just let it ring to voicemail. I have found I also do this at home, and on my cell phone. Although to be fair, half the time I really can’t hear them ring, or –at home anyway- I hear it but can’t find where the “ring” is coming from. (Usually I’m hoping it’s a real sound and not just a figment of my broken cochlear nerve as I frantically search room to room looking for my telltale “flashing strobe light” phone.)

Recently a group of female friends (ok coworkers and coworker’s wives – I don’t really have a lot of friends anymore) went out to dinner and a movie and actually invited me to go along. I really wanted to go, I wanted to be with other people and I really wanted to see that movie! But I remembered that previously, I had a difficult time asking for, receiving, and setting up the captioning device at that particular theater and I’m not going to pay $15.00 to see a movie I can’t “hear/read.” Keep in mind if you are new to the whole captioning thing, you can ask for it, but that doesn’t mean the minimum wage paid teenage employee has any idea what you’re talking about. I dreaded the embarrassment of going through the captioning device thing again, especially in front of others. Also the chosen restaurant was a loud, noisy Mexican joint with great food and a fun ambience, but a terrible place for even the highest quality hearing aid to make a difference. So I lied and said I had no one to watch my kids. Can you say Avoidance?

I rarely get invited anywhere nowadays and subsequently lost a number of “friendships” because of having to cancel last minute because of my lovely vertigo spells. Apparently, “Sorry I’m too busy hanging on to the floor for dear life and vomiting to go out tonight,” has a limit on the number of times it can be used as a forgivable excuse.

Trying to Find the Positive

There are good things about losing your hearing, really there are. If it’s really noisy and I’m trying to sleep (like my neighbor and his oh so noisy garage band at 10 pm, or the neighborhood dogs howling for no reason at all) I can sleep on my good ear so I can’t hear anything. If I have a migraine the hearing loss is actually a relief. I can sometimes pretend I didn’t hear something if it’s something I don’t want to talk about. (I think my husband has figured that last one out, drat.) When my daughter(s) start whining/throwing tantrums I can literally turn my deaf ear to it. Although they have also figured that out too. I really try to appreciate the few sounds I can still hear, now more than ever. I try to imprint these sounds upon my memory so that I never forget – the giggling laughter of my little girls, my husband whispering “I love you” in my good ear, the melody of morning songbirds, and the relaxing sound of ocean waves.

I can actually swim in real life, (well I could swim once anyway), but as for living the new life of a Deaf/ Hard of Hearing person I am barely hanging on to my flotation device. Denise always manages to end her musings on a positive note, so I will try my best.

I hate feeling sorry for myself. I hate being depressed. I hate hating everything. I can’t stand people who constantly whine and throw pity parties for themselves. I certainly don’t want to BE one of them. I’ve always been of the mindset that if you fall, you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and keep going.

I know that I am lucky not to be dying from some terminal disease, I am just going deaf and I’m dizzy most of the time. I know, rationally, that I just have to learn to adjust to my “new” normal. I just don’t happen to be particularly impressed with what my new normal is, or what it may be in the future. So I’m angry sometimes. Well, really more like awfully T’d off. And I am actually annoying myself with the unnecessary amount of negative energy that I am producing.

I try to remember that the good Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle. But God apparently thinks I have the strength of Hercules or something, but I disagree. Grrrr. I get so mad at myself, at what is happening to me, and I’m mad at being mad. I don’t like mad people!

I suddenly have a great amount of sympathy for that poor dog that continues to chase his own tail in circles.

I might be barely hanging on, and I can’t hear the people who may be shouting at me –trying to help me, but I’m not giving up either. I’m pretty good at the doggie paddle, so I will keep on paddling, I just don’t really know where I will end up. I try to keep a sense of humor about all this when I can, although, sometimes others (fully hearing or truly Deaf) kind of miss the point.

I truly believe that where there is humor there is laughter and laughter spreads joy. And one can still laugh even if you can’t hear yourself do so.

One of my favorite quotes is by Gustave Flaubert –

– “One can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.”

At this point in my journey, I know my future is up to me and my actions will determine what is next, but I just feel lost at sea- drifting somewhere, and I don’t even have any oars, or a decent GPS system to help me navigate.

Salud and good luck on wherever you are on your personal journey.

Melissa

How Important is it to Prepare?

Published on July 10, 2012July 10, 2012 by hearingelmoLeave a comment

With family in Colorado dealing with the fires, and our own area’s recent experience with widespread power outages after a “land hurricane”, disaster preparedness has been on my mind lately.

Isn’t it crazy that we don’t think to plan for something until it actually happens? Then we get some things together for the next time, only for a decade to go by before it repeats itself. By that time batteries are dead, water is stale and evaporated, and extra dog food has turned to powder.

Preparing can be expensive too; something most of us have difficulty budgeting for should a disaster occur. Yet, little by little we CAN get together some essentials. Purchased over time, these items may be less of a punch to our weekly budget for food and other essentials. If you dislike gathering things together for a price, disaster preparedness kits can be purchased at stores or online.

What to Put in a “Kit”

You can find numerous resources online with information about what to put in a disaster preparedness kit. You may have to prepare with numerous people in mind, or even numerous pets. According to the experts it is best to have a kit on hand that can be picked up and taken with you in the event of an emergency – fire, hurricane, or flooding… things that can be predicted to some degree as the result of early warning systems in the area.

With power outages, however, you may need a bigger “kit” for numerous days. Power outages can be planned as the result of city construction or tree removal. Most of the time though? Power outages are an unpleasant surprise. Causes can range from results of mother nature at work, or a hubby at work with a shovel and a poor attention span.

72Hours.org has some terrific ideas in what to put in a disaster kit. You can access the site HERE. FEMA and Ready.Gov has some additional plans and ideas at their site. These include how to let friends and loved ones know where you are and how you are doing. You can access these plans HERE. The ASPCA has some wonderful ideas and plans for those of us who may have service animals and other family pets. You can access that information HERE. The Red Cross has some additional ideas for pet owners HERE.

The key is to BE PREPARED. When my family and I experienced 36 hours of no power in 95 degree heat, it isn’t something we decided to do for FUN. It was an unexpected and unpleasant surprise. We had plenty of water and gas in our cars, but could not even leave the house at night in sweltering heat because of numerous pets that needed attention, supervision, and assurance. We holed up in the basement and did our best to keep everyone calm and as cool as possible. Because I shop at Costco, when I buy batteries, I buy A LOT. But I wasn’t keeping close tabs on what sizes we had, and our flashlights and lanterns were scattered all over the place. (The power outage began late at night after the sun had gone down). I discovered after doing a little investigating after the power returned, that generators are expensive. They can also be dangerous to operate if you do not know what you are doing. Yet after our experience, I started a “generator piggy bank”. It may take us YEARS to have enough to actually buy one, but imagine being able to run some fans and keep the refrigerator running during a long-term power outage?

I welcome additional ideas our websites that may help folks prepare.

Disabilities or Health Issues?

As a person with disabilities I was prepared BY ACCIDENT. I purchase cochlear implant batteries in bulk once or twice a year. Thankfully, my cochlear implant is NOT the type that uses rechargeable batteries or I may have been deaf as well as sweaty! I noticed that because of the excessive heat, my balance was worse than usual. I was unprepared for a SUNNY day to be staggering around as if it were a rainy, overcast day. My husband who only has one kidney, was especially fatigued and weak because of the heat. I had friends that were unable to power their scooters that they use for mobility purposes, but their manual wheelchairs were in storage! These kinds of things can make a difficult situation much worse.

If you have special needs of ANY kind, be sure to take these into consideration when you do your planning. Because we are all aware of how important that planning is, right? (GRIN)

Denise Portis

It is Easier to Act Your Way into Feeling…

Published on May 8, 2012 by hearingelmo4 Comments

Our pastor at Weem’s Creek has been going through the story of Elijah. Interesting guy, this old testament prophet, Elijah. Through him, God shut off the rain for a long period of time. He put the false prophets of Baal to shame by having his own sacrifice (soaked in water) eaten up by fire called down from Heaven. But… Elijah could be a whiner.

Not only could the man whine, but he could exaggerate as well. After a particularly spectacular display of God’s might – working through Elijah – he claimed to be all alone and the last of his kind (a prophet). Neither were true. Elijah became depressed. God decided to force him into action, and it eventually changed his outlook.

Pastor Orr used a quote, “It is easier to act your way into a feeling, than to feel your way into an action”. I looked all over the Internet for who actually said that. Although I found plenty of examples of people USING the quote, I was unable to actually find who said it “first”.

This quote really hit home for me. I was contacted this last week by a man who follows my blog. I asked his permission to share part of that email.

“I can know that I need to change my attitude about my disability, but knowing and doing are two different things. How do you get to where you know your life is not over after acquiring a disability when you are stuck on thinking your life is over?”

I’ve been very open about my own struggles with depression. Would I have struggled with depression had I not begun to lose my hearing at the age of 25-years-old? Very possibly. But I do know know that there is a correlation between depression and disability. Research has shown that the degree of depression in people with disabilities is directly connected to their own personal acceptance of their disability (Townend, Tinson, Kwan, Sharpe, 2010). You need to accept your “new normal”. I DO realize it is easy to say, but there really IS life after disability.

I realize we all struggle with different things. Some chronic illnesses and disabilities impact important life functions such as mobility, independence, and quality of life. Being late-deafened is minor to having Meniere’s disease in my own life. As a matter of fact, my husband noted recently that Chloe does just as many balance-related tasks as she does hearing alerts (if not more) – and she is a certified hearing assistance dog. When we have a major weather system stall out over the top of us (my main vertigo trigger) I can really struggle to even get up the nerve to leave the bed in the morning. And let me tell you… it can require nerves. A recent fall left me black and blue from shoulder to hip, with an anxious husband trying to decide whether or not to call 9-1-1 as I kept losing consciousness. (Life with Denise can be exciting – grin). However, when the sun shines, my balance related symptoms are minor. I’m very aware there are courageous (and inspiring) people who do not get “sunny days”. They do not have a break in the degree of disability that directly influences the quality of their lives. Acceptance for them is different and I acknowledge may be more difficult. Regardless, one does have to accept where they are in terms of a “new normal”.

Did you know that acceptance of your “new normal” can not only influence depression, but being depressed can actually worsen your disability? I have personal experience with worsening hearing, balance and vertigo when I happen to also be in a downward spiral in depression. Karp, Skidmore, Lotz, Lenze, Dew, and Reynolds (2009), found that symptoms of specific disabilities actually worsen when the individual is also depressed, stressing that depression needs to be taken seriously and treated. I have a number of red flags that I have set up to determine if I am becoming depressed. I know and have experienced the dangers of depression. Having a “blue” day or two is different than depression. Having lived with it, I know what it “looks” like and stay on the look out for specific clues that tell me I need to seek help.

Living with “It”

One really CAN live within a “new normal”. This may mean a acceptance of a change in your health. Perhaps you are single when you thought it would be “til death do us part”. Death may have indeed parted you from someone you counted on emotionally and physically. So how do you accept where you ARE, and move on to living a victorious life? I truly believe we have to simply take action. Our “feelers” cannot really be trusted. Don’t get me wrong. I believe compassion, mercy, and love are important. But our hearts – our “feeler” – cannot provide a new, healthier way of acceptance.

What kind of actions can we take? Many of us become involved in organizations that provide support for a specific disability we may have. Within these types of organizations, there are numerous ways to get involved. The Internet makes this connection simple. There are a number of community service projects that can use the help of volunteers. Even small communities have opportunities for service. Some people with disabilities prefer to be involved in areas of service that are not directly related to their disability. If you want to take action and get involved in helping others – LOOK. The opportunities are there. Giving back to others is a primary way in which people feel valued and useful. Getting active in giving back to our communities may actually change the way you FEEL about your own disability. We need a purpose.

“I think the purpose of life is to be useful, to be responsible, to be honorable, to be compassionate. It is, after all, to matter: to count, to stand for something, to have made some difference that you lived at all.” —Leo C. Rosten

Denise Portis

Karp, J., Skidmore, E., Lotz, M., Lenze, E., Dew, M., & Reynolds, C. (2009). Use of the Late-Life Function and Disability Instrument to assess disability in major depression. Journal Of The American Geriatrics Society, 57(9), 1612-1619. doi:10.1111/j.1532-5415.2009.02398.x

Townend, E., Tinson, D., Kwan, J., & Sharpe, M. (2010). ‘Feeling sad and useless’: an investigation into personal acceptance of disability and its association with depression following stroke. Clinical Rehabilitation, 24(6), 555-564.

It Ain’t All Good

Published on April 17, 2012May 9, 2012 by hearingelmo2 Comments

George Dawson, “People forget that a picture ain’t made from just one color. Life ain’t all good or all bad. It’s full of everything.”

I didn’t write last Monday. I almost let yesterday (Monday) go without writing as well. My reasoning was “why write when I feel so awful”? Sometimes I feel like I owe my readers and peers the truth… but only if it is pleasant and encouraging. When things are not going so good? Well… I’m less certain about how healthy it is for ME to write about it, and risk losing YOU as “compatriots in the ranks”. Right now, “life ain’t all good”. But because it is also “not all bad” I decided to write anyway.

Some things are changing for me. Not good changes. There are things going on that involve other people, so I cannot discuss it. But there are things going on with “just me” that I DO have the liberty to discuss. So I will. If you tuned in to get a dose of the warm fuzzies – this isn’t the post you want to read.

Tell Tale Signs

I have an incredibly bad habit of ignoring the obvious. Perhaps it is a defense mechanism or a form of denial. When something is scary or unpleasant I will push it down and pretend “it” doesn’t exist. I tell myself what my mother always tells me, “Don’t make a mountain out of a mole hill”. Problem is… sometimes it IS a mountain and not a mole hill.

Life can be hard. I have friends who have lost loved ones recently. I have friends who have been diagnosed with scary-sounding diagnosis, some having a good prognosis and some a dire one. I have friends who have close family members battling major health problems. I have friends who are having financial crisis that will change the course of their life and the life of their families. I have friends with children in trouble. I have friends who have been told to plan their funeral. I have friends who have been betrayed and used.

Makes it sound like I have a lot of friends, doesn’t it? (GRIN) One tremendous PLUS of my now, 9-year-old blog, is that I have met a great number of people “virtually”, and literally as a result of my going public with what it is like to live with hearing loss, invisible disabilities, and an incredible canine partner. I have been blessed with guest writers and friendships that have developed as a result of “Hearing Elmo”. You, the reader, have been a source of encouragement to me, a source of advice, and even a source of constructive criticism when I desperately needed it. I am thankful for the sense of “community” the Internet and blogs have given those with disability and invisible illnesses.

Sometimes I ignore tell tale signs in order to “deal with it”. Yes, I know that isn’t healthy but I’m just tellin’ it like it is. Folks who do not have disabilities still live in a body that ages, changes, and may face both minor and catastrophic health problems. However, people with disabilities, those who have learned to be “differently abled”, also sometimes face these same health problems. I’ve often wondered that if certain disabilities make one more prone to health related problems. For example, if you have arthritis, fibromyalgia, or chronic fatigue syndrome, perhaps you’ve put on some weight because you cannot easily exercise or lack the strength and energy to do so. As a result, diabetes or heart disease are now knocking at your door. If you have paralysis or problems with mobility, perhaps you have also developed circulatory problems. I am late-deafened and have Meniere’s disease. I actually hear voices really well in “prime” listening environments, and even do fairly well in really noisy environments with poor acoustics. I fall a lot though. When I do, I normally hit my head. Usually it is just an “ouch” moment where I rub the sore spot and go on about my business.

However, in the last year I have woken up a couple of times now – sprawled out in a heap with my dogs curled up asleep next to me. One time, a matter of hours had to have passed because it was much darker outside by the time I came to. I discuss these things with my husband and um – sort of with my doctor. I have a feeling that I’ve bumped my noggin’ often enough in my adult life, that there may be consequences to that. Thankfully, I’ve learned what a lot of my triggers are and can identify 95% of the time when I need to sit down,

NOW

no matter where I’m at

or who may be watching

or what I may be sitting in.

My eye prescription has changed 3 times in the last 11 months. Most mornings I wake up and my extremities are numb. On really bad days, I still cannot hardly feel my fingers well enough to type by my afternoon classes. I’m having all kinds of “female issues”. My balance is worse than it ever has been. Much worse. I have tried to tell myself that I am stumbling more because I’m older. I turn 46-years-old this month. I’m very good at justifying things! Don’t we tend to do that when something is “off”? My doctor is working with me. When classes are over in May I will be busy getting a lot of tests. Fun, fun (rolls eyes).

But Gee… It’s Not Fair

I don’t care who you are. The old adage, “when it rains, it pours” is only positive to a farmer. No one likes change. Nobody likes problems. No one embraces tragedy. We may have a “Bad News Not Welcome” here sign on our house door. Heck… it may be tattooed on your forearm. That doesn’t mean that bad things are not going to happen.

Life is just not fair, is it? I mean… we don’t get what we deserve when we’ve done something right. And dang, if we don’t get what we deserve when we do something WRONG.

Oscar Wilde: “Life is never fair, and perhaps it is a good thing for most of us that it is not.”

Bill Gates: “Life is not fair. Get use to it”.

(Unknown): “Expecting the world to be fair to you because you are a good person is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.”

Matthew 5:45b: “For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”

Most of you have already learned that life isn’t fair. We deal with it. We have to do so. There are no real alternatives.

We adjust.

We learn.

We fight.

We will lose and we will win. Regardless we DO deal with it. That can mean we do so successfully and with pizzazz. It may mean we do so poorly and like a drowning victim, struggle and pull others down with us. We always have choices. Maybe not about what we get to handle, but HOW we will handle it.

Recently while shopping at the mall with my husband, he said, “Do you realize that in 2007 you trained for a hearing dog because you needed one. Now Chloe performs more balance-related tasks for you than she does hearing alerts. What does that mean?”

Well it means that I’m changing. Thankfully, dogs are smart and so are the trainers at Fidos For Freedom. You really can teach an old dog “new tricks” – or skilled tasks.

More Than You Can Handle

Don’t you hate it when you are going through something hard and someone tells you, “God won’t give you more than you can handle”? Seriously? I mean… for most of us determination, will-power, and a fighting attitude gets us through. For those like myself who consider themselves a person of faith, we rest in the knowledge that He’s got this… and He’s with us. That doesn’t mean He’s gonna bail us out and smooth the way.

My cousin, a breast cancer survivor, blogs a great deal. I always look forward to reading her posts when “Google Reader” lets me know something new has been uploaded. Recently, she wrote “A Hard Place”. She quoted from a book called, “Kisses From Katie” by Katie Davis. I wanted to share that excerpt with you:

“Remember, God will never give you more than you can handle.” People repeat this frequently; I heard it when I was growing up and I hear it now. It is meant to be a source of encouragement, and it would be if I believed it were true. But I don’t. I believe that God totally, absolutely, intentionally gives us more than we can handle. Because this is when we surrender to Him and He takes over, proving Himself by doing the impossible in our lives. I have learned to accept it, even ask for it, this “more than I can handle.” Because in these times, God shows Himself victorious. He reminds me that all of this life requires more of Him and less of me. God does give us more than we can handle. Not maliciously, but intentionally, in love, that His glory may be displayed, that we may have no doubt of who is in control, that people may see His grace and faithfulness shining through our lives. And as I surrender these situations to Him, watch Him take over and do the impossible, I am filled with joy and peace–so much more than I can handle.”

I’m not a brave person. I’m not going to ask God to give me more than I can handle.

I’m a chicken.

a wuss.

a weakling.

You don’t have to ask God for ANYTHING though, and you still are going to get a dose of LIFE. And so I’m back around where I started. Life ain’t all good.

But it is not all bad.

And so we carry on…

Denise Portis