Tuesday Tumbling Term ~ Brain Fart

If you read yesterday's mailbox, you've guessed the theme of the week and today's words...brain farts.

I couldn't find a definition in my usual source   www.dictionary.com but didn't let that stop me. I went to ...www.Wikionary.com for the definition.

brain fart (plural brain farts)
 1.  (idiomatic, informal) A lapse in the thought process; an inability to think or remember something clearly.
   2.  (idiomatic, informal) Something ill-considered and said or done impulsively

Yes, that pretty well sums it up. So what does this mean to the indie author? Well, I'll tell you...

You can't afford them!

Or at least not many of them. As an indie author you have to have all your ducks in a row.You set a plan in motion planning it step by step. The writing, the voice, the editing, the formatting, the cover, the fonts used, the advertising, and the word count. This is your creation totally.

Sure you can outsource a lot of this labor for a cost, but the ultimate decision is yours. As much as I like to travel outside the box, there are some things that just are. While being traditionally published takes a lot of the heat in some of these areas away, going indie is an all or nothing proposition.

When you allow your brain to wander in too many directions at one time, you will have more and more brain fart moments. Sure you can make changes on a moments notice, but should you? This is where the voice of reason comes in.

To prevent brain farts...

• write a good story
• choose the voice that will entice the reader. How many milk-toast characters do you read?
• edit it well even if it takes months or years to do so
• choose a cover which says something to the audience you are trying to reach
• choose a font which is standard. Yes, you might like a certain font when writing, but can the reader read it?
• formatting is different for each site you want to upload to...learn them
• follow other authors' examples but don't be afraid to put your own personal twist on things
• Set your sight on one goal at a time and make them achievable
• write it down. Don't depend on your memory

 So what are your techniques for battling brain farts?
Keep writing and loving the Lord.

Monday Mailbox ~ Brain Farts

After weeks in a slump, humor saves me once again with this pared down email. A humorous look at a fact of life. It's time to answer your questions?

You say it so often in real life and here... what is a brain fart? AJ

My reply...
AJ,
I can't remember when I first heard the term, it must have been brought home by one of my children. If all else fails - blame the kids. It certainly was not used among my circle of friend until I started using it constantly. It falls in line with CRAFT (can't remember a freaking thing). It when during a conversation or action when you mind goes blank and you can't remember stuff. For example, you walk into a room and forget why you went in there.

CRAFT is usually age specific. A condition that hits elderly folks like me. But brain farts can occur at any age. It can occur at any time or place. It often occurs without warning... just like regular passage of bodily gas. It can be silent and deadly too! Unlike blowing off steam to vent anger that is done with forethought. It just happens.

Do you admit your brain farts? Or do you hold true to the adage- Thou who smelt it must have dealt it?

Keep writing and loving the Lord.

Sunday Stroke Survival ~ The Pity Pot

Yep, I've been really hopping up and down on the pity pot for the past month with all that has been happening at home and abroad, and it's okay. I allow myself the time so long as it doesn't consume my life totally. Although I have to admit I've got an angry, red ring on my derriere from my long stint on it this time. I said all of these statements on the balloons over and over again over the past month.

Quite a few months ago, I told myself I wouldn't get on it again, but I was only fooling myself. Hey, I'm honest. I usually limit my time on the pot to fifteen minutes but this time I couldn't. Somethings are beyond my control. I have to go with it and ride the wave until it's over. Accepting things I can not change, but this is a hard lesson to learn. I'm fast approaching, the 25th, the one year anniversary of my stroke. What a year it's been too. There was no cop out of "look how far you've come" that would console me.

The truth is while I have achieved great progress, this is not where I wanted to be by now in my recovery. I'm terrified that this is all the recovery I can achieve and will be like this FOREVER. I'm afraid of failure. The stakes are too high for me that this may be my life forever more. There I said it.

 I expected more out of myself. Remember I'm the over-everything. I do not settle unless forced to and let me tell you, that's always a fight to the death. Recently, I've been reading anniversary blogs of other long term stroke survivors- five, ten, fifteen or twenty years post stroke. It truly boggles my mind. The courage it takes to be a survivor not just a year but YEARS! To not lose hope along the way and not give up.

Many of the words to the left have been used by others to describe me. Yes, they are all true to the persona I show to the outside world. Many have written me about being an inspiration or being a hero in their eyes.

 I'm not any of those things. Okay maybe, a fighter, outspoken, and intelligent, but the rest is conjecture. I fight to recover daily because there is a possibility. I've seen glimpses of what life can be, wouldn't you do the same? I don't want to admit that this is all there is. Given fifteen years there might be an inkling of acceptance. I'm stubborn.

I speak out because it's not in my nature to keep quiet anymore, even when it is in my best interests to do so. Would it be better to stuff my feelings and not give them a voice? I did that for a lot of years and it made me feel worse not better. It explodes in other ways such as drugs and alcohol...been there- done that- and don't want to go there again!

I shouldn't be a role model or hero to anyone. Everyone has it in them to do the same thing. It is their choice not to. Any excuse in a storm, right? And boy, are most people full of excuses. I taught myself and my children to take ownership of their faults and try not to repeat them. It's left some of their bosses with that opening and closing mouth like a fish in the fish bowl look when they take ownership of their mistakes because they are so used to hearing excuses. I don't make excuses I just tell it like it is in my perception.

I choose to live my life as an open book. Well, maybe not totally open, but as open as can be. Because self preservation beats out total honesty every time. In this age of identity theft, I'd be a fool to divulge everything on the net. But still if asked a question, I'll answer to the best of my hair-brained ability from my point of view.

So if I don't keep to my regularly scheduled blog time table, you know why. Real life is just getting in the way. But I'll get there.

Nothing is impossible with determination

Friday Fun ~ Downtime Again

Downtime again for me this week while I do without my AFO until Monday. My husband had another four nerves in his neck burned and I'm exhausted, but his pain level is finally down to a 6 out of 10 instead of 11 out of 10 even with the morphine.

For Mother's Day, I let everyone wait hand and foot on me for a change. I am still exhausted from my body trying to do against the spasticity even with the sleep I got Wednesday. The kids ran all my errands and took care of the hubby for me. The grandkids did yard work and gardening for me. I still haven't figured out how to use hedge clippers with one hand. It was a nice day off supervising them all. My private little army of drones. I was Queen Bee and not the biotch kind either.

To top it all off, I've developed a pinched nerve in my neck from having to turn my whole body to look left for cars when driving. Add a fibromyalgia spike into the mix, and that pretty much describes my week. Pain, on fire burning sensations from my neck to down both arms, high muscle tone and cramping,constant nagging headache, and every little thing touching my skin hurts. It has not been a good week. Will the 23rd every get here? That's when I see my neurologist again and get my Botox.

Still reading Letters to Zerky. Maybe by next Friday I'll post the review for this book. Still 100 pages to go and I hate to put it down to do other things.

If all else fails, I've now got 50 unread books on my Kindle and hard drive.
Y'all and have a good weekend.

Thursday Turmoil ~ Sleep- the Double Edged Sword

Yep, it's late for me posting that because I was asleep at my usual time. Yes you heard me...I was asleep. I'm writing this on the fly because I'm late so forgive any grammar or spelling errors. I did try to catch the misspellings.

At 8:00 last night I took my after supper meds. It was one of those days where everything was behind schedule with one of my husband's late doctor appointments. You know the type when you have an appointment but because of this or that you are left sitting for two or three hours or more? Yep that's the one I'm talking about. Meds were late, dinner was late, and I had over extended my energy allotment for the day.

After the dinner dishes were done, I sat up on the bed trying and get enough energy to do the rest of the night's routine. I fell asleep watching some movie with the opening credits rolling. Upright in the bed with a pillow against the headboard.

My husband, God love him, came into, drew up his morphine, injected himself in the thigh, and went back to surfing the web until 1:30. Proof to me that the anguish of the past two months of nerve ablation procedures was worth it. It has been nine months of me drawing up and injecting him. I woke with a start when he came to bed. His first words were, "Is there anything I can get for you?"

He went to the office and got my bedtime meds which I was supposed to take at 10:00 and a bottle of water. He was in caregiver mode. I'm still half asleep. When I reached for my AFO he looked at me with concern. "Is there anything else I can do for you? I was kinda hoping you'd go back to sleep. You haven't gotten much lately."

"Not without a catheter and bag," I answered. All the movement had triggered my, 'Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now' reflex. Then it hit me about his 10:00 morphine injection. When I asked him about it he assured me he'd taken care of it. When I got back from the bathroom I asked him if he needed another shot, and he said no. So I climbed back in the bed. I was asleep before he was.




I awoke again to sunlight streaming in through our bedroom window. The curtains fluttering in the breeze coming through the window and the sound of him rustling around preparing his coffee. I jumped out of bed. Well not exactly. I had to put on my shorts, my compression hoses (more on this later), my AFO and shoes first, but in a hurried fashion. Glancing at the clock, it was 8:00!

After I stood up, that's when my body told me I'd slept too
long without moving. My back muscles screamed at me. I started making those old lady sounds. You know the ones I mean. The grumbles and groans most often heard by sweet, little, old ladies make upon moving. My neck and legs made the Rice Krispies sound of snap, crackle and pop. Yep, my body is getting older. The muscles around arthritic joints and bionic ones are telling the tale of abuse over decades.

Actually I feel wonderful after getting 11 hours of sleep if it wasn't for the downside.  Although my body is still telling the tale even after being awake for two hours, it's nothing a hot shower and muscle relaxers won't fix. Now my guilt about my husband having to being his own caregiver and me too. Well that's another story. I figure I'm due a break after ten years of caregiving with only a month and a half total time in ten years on duty. But I'm only kidding myself.  I do feel guilty. I'll just keep reminding myself not to make a habit of it.

My med schedule is terribly skewed for today. Oh well, life is full of adjustments. Isn't that what makes it interesting?