Living in one room as a single person is all that I require.
I am tired of condominium living with all of the rules, assessments, boards that never let the residents win, and oh those neighbors, the bad ones we get stuck with.
Yes, I have a choice to have my own home out on a farm but I am a city girl; besides I am not brave enough to live by myself out in the woods. No, not for scardy-cat me. I like urban city living.
So, here I am.
In a room
in a small residential hotel
and I love it....
All it is is a bedroom and bath. It is a large room with windows all around facing the street and a corner desk with a draw circling round the windows..
Hear this! It is a smoke free building, such a brilliant rarity. It is an elevator building for all of its 7 floors. There is maid service once a week, costs extra $15.00 plus tax. There is a 15in. flat screen TV which I can turn in either direction instead of my big heavy cumbersome TV.
In the lobby is a concierge to help on any of my needs, and while I do not frequent the food, a small SUBWAY has opened in the building and they do have great soup and pizza.
It has a lovely front porch with tables furnished from Subway and all of this is ONE HALF BLOCK FROM THE BEACH; close enough to come back to my room to go to the bathroom.
There is a drawback because there is no kitchen. Just a little refrigerator, so it would be hard to live here permanently , but for now I buy food, fruits, vegetables in package.I use plastic utensils, one plate, one take out cup for hot tea, one take out container for iced tea. And oh yes, no laundry cause I rinse my things out every night. The cost? No more than what my condo costs to live and nobody here to tell me what I can and can not do.
It is quiet, simple and I feel free. I adore my room. Come visit!
Carol Sue Gershman
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Left sided sisters
My daughter had taken a fall cross country sking on March 20th. Nothing broken but lots of pain on her left shoulder. She sought a therapist and now a osteopath as it needs much attention.
On April 6th I fell down shattering my left elbow and needing an operation. My story lies below in another blog.
On April 21 my daughter in law did a flip over the handles of her bike and sprained her wrist.
Funny? not funny? kind of strange don't you think?
Should we bond closer to one another, are we deeper sisters than we think?
Carol Sue Gershman
On April 6th I fell down shattering my left elbow and needing an operation. My story lies below in another blog.
On April 21 my daughter in law did a flip over the handles of her bike and sprained her wrist.
Funny? not funny? kind of strange don't you think?
Should we bond closer to one another, are we deeper sisters than we think?
Carol Sue Gershman
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Broken elbow and homeless
Oh what an adventure I have just been through.
I rented my apartment for one year putting everything into storage. That Monday I was packing the last of my things, one pile of suitcases would stay in my car for my trip north (after I returned in a month from S. F.) the other pile of cases going to S. F. I took in a breath and lay down to rest on a mattress on the floor that I had kept behind for my last two nights in the apartment. I was about to meet the the girls for mah jongg; yup I play. I was proud of my accomplishment of getting away for a year and now only two days away from my departure.
AND THEN I STOOD UP. From out of no where my heels went straight out in front of me; I had poured some Clorox on the floor and had forgotten to wipe it up. I went crashing backwards, screaming, as my back and elbow hit the floor; Oh yes, the hardest, brightest white epoxy floor that one could ever imagine especially designed by me for me. I lay for a time trying to come to myself, and realized I could get up which is always a good sign.
In pain I drove to the emergency ward and 6 hours later was diagnosed with a broken elbow and sent to an orthopedic surgeon. The next day, one day to go now till vacating day, I ran for a referral; you know those HMO'S, and when I saw the Dr. after a 2 hour wait, he said, "bad, bad, you need a specialist who does elbows, I do not touch a break like yours." I looked around his waiting room and could not believe my eyes, people were coming in on stretchers, on walkers, on crutches with broken up and down bodies; was my astonishing black and blue elbow actually worse than those injured souls? I would be homeless within 24 hours; what was I going to do? All bets were off for me to go to S.F. And then I realized it might be less overwhelming for me to actually go to Ca., after all I was guaranteed a bed with my son and family!
I decided to go." I am going," I said. I would blow off the elbow specialist, my second referral. Oddly enough I was not in much pain. I lay down on the floor mattress to sleep, ready to leave in the A. M. and waited for the alarm to go off. I was startled out of my sleep at 5:00 A.M. "What am I crazy, how can I go, how can I endure such a flight with two changes no less? So at 5:15 A. M. I cancelled the flight and shuttle service, and at 9:00 A. M. I was ready to vacate my apartment.
I did a once mop over with my good hand, the valet packed my mustang with just enough room for me to sit. There I went, driving my self to the specialist assuming he would admit me pronto and I at least would beat the game and not be homeless. The hospital would take good care of me. I figured it out perfectly!
The specialist agreed that an operation was the only way to go; but not just yet. It would take at least 5 days over Easter and Passover weekend to get it together and with that he said, ' There is s no harm in you going to S. F. and having it done there.' OMG, should I really re-book? My son agreed," come on out; I don't know why you cancelled in the first place." With my car packed, I drove back to my building where I would leave my car, stopped at Walgreen's to fill a prescription to avoid blood clotting on the flight and called the shuttle service to pick me up to board my new re-booked flight in the A. M.
I took the suitcases for S. F. leaving the rest in the car as planned, and boarded the shuttle service having made a reservation to sleep at an air port hotel. I would fly out early the next morning.
The shuttle took me to the wrong hotel. After arguing with the receptionist that I had a reservation, I realized it was true; I had mixed up the hotel name, so back in the van with all of the cases, my head spinning, and finally arriving at a lovely place with two of the most delicious beds I ever saw and collapsed into one of them for the night.
I had made the right decision; I would endure the plane ride but then it would all be smooth sailing with lots of attention from my family.
Until I opened up my e-mail and found a message from my son. "Mom, how bout going to Lake Tahoe for the weekend?" I could not believe what I had just read. That did it. I was shattered, homeless, broken, in pain, needing an operation, exhausted, but that statement pushed me to where Thelma and Louise went.
What was wrong with him; how could I come off of a seven hour flight and drive four hours the next day to Tahoe in a van with the kids? OMG. In his defense, he figured, nothing will happen till next week, so why waste a perfectly good ski weekend? Exactly, except that I needed tender loving care and was willing to travel 3000 miles to get it! it was not about you dear son. My blood soared, my sister called her nephew while I freaked out knowing I would now cancel my second flight. I would stay in Miami and would give the TLC to my self. I had now spent $300.00 in re-booking fees within 24 hours.
I fell into a deep sleep. I called the surgeon the next morning and said," I am your patient; please operate." He said, you need to get to the hospital today for pre op or I can not operate for a whole week. I was devastated; there was no way logistically that I could get back to the hospital and what about all of my luggage; how could I move into the hospital with all of my things and I would need a room to come back to. It was Passover, nothing mattered; I had an English muffin.
The hotel was quite nice, I rested and decided that it was not life threatening so would let the week go by and stay put; not so bad, as long as I was comfortable. The Dr. called back the next day, reconsidering," get to the hospital tomorrow and I will do the surgery on Monday."
It was a date, but wait, I had to find a place to stay post op. Remember I was homeless.
Craig's list brought up two possible apartments; I made arrangements to take a look at them both on the way to surgery
My little brother Mark was born to save me that Saturday morning. He picked me up, in his 27 year old Cadillac; he had a brand new sports car, but since I had so much luggage it would never fit. The only problem was that every time we stopped, we prayed it would start. We made it to South Beach to apartment one, and I would have taken anything that was half way decent but not that disaster, better to live with a broken elbow sleeping on the beach. The bed was in the kitchen and when I picked up the window shade it was hiding a parking garage. But yes, the ad was true, it was on the beach. P. S. for $1200.00 a month.
We got back in 27 year old and stopped at hotels along the way just in case apartment two did not work out. But either the receptionist was off duty or the sign to the office was pointed in the wrong direction, there was literally no one to talk to and I was exhausted from running around South Beach and had to get to the hospital immediately. We continued on to apartment two, and yes, it was great. Just a hotel room with big windows, light bright and ready. I booked it for my return.
But what to do with the luggage? I did not want to rent the room 5 days early just for luggage storage, so we brought it all back to my car and packed it up again with the N. Y. luggage. Mark and I stopped for a Starbucks and proceeded to the emergency ward. I hugged him and thanked him goodbye.
No sooner did he leave that I realized I had gone to the wrong emergency ward. The nurse said, "don't worry, it is just across the street;" I believed her. In the Miami heat with my hospital bag on wheels I walked 10 blocks to the right emergency ward, and 10 hours later after all of the pre op tests I was admitted to a private room with the second best bed I ever did see. The 10 hours in the emergency ward showed me life on the inside, the terrible traumas people go through and now I was one of them, flattened down to a pulp, helpless, homeless and broken. I always thought I was younger and stronger than all of the poor souls who had misfortunes. I was learning fast to be compassionate and human.
Hospitals don't care; there is no time zone, what is wrong with being awakened at 4:00 A. M for a X ray ? Does it matter? If one thinks they are going to a hospital for rest, forget it. I then got the surprise of my life, my son Eric from Vt. came to visit. True he had a business appointment the next day, but decided to come one day early to see me. It was great, he listened to my nonsense and pain. I told him that I had cancelled all of my book talks in S. F., I cancelled my yoga retreat and all else. Roger, my Lake Tahoe son called several times and sent a beautiful bouquet (yes, on his way to Tahoe.) Norman my ex husband sent a room full of roses, Leslie called each day from Switzerland.
Passover and Easter passed and that Monday I was wheeled in. Eric came back to visit me in the trauma ward before they put me under. The operation was a success, I came out of it, but with increased pain. I had a private room, my Internet worked and so did my cell and I was a happy Hospital patient.
I was re-leased 2 days later, learning to shower, learning to take care of my self; I lucked out with my HMO, a great Dr. the best hospital and even pick up and delivery service from and to my new room.
So here I am in my new room, a whole week has already passed, a true sabbatical to heal and mend. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, just heal. No more broken elbow, no more homeless. It is a simple hotel room with a little refrigerator, a comfortable bed, wi fi, cell and a bath. There is staff and guest to talk to, visitors come and go.
I did fall, I did get up from the fall, and I did survive and I did it all by myself; except for brother Mark.
Carol Sue Gershman
I rented my apartment for one year putting everything into storage. That Monday I was packing the last of my things, one pile of suitcases would stay in my car for my trip north (after I returned in a month from S. F.) the other pile of cases going to S. F. I took in a breath and lay down to rest on a mattress on the floor that I had kept behind for my last two nights in the apartment. I was about to meet the the girls for mah jongg; yup I play. I was proud of my accomplishment of getting away for a year and now only two days away from my departure.
AND THEN I STOOD UP. From out of no where my heels went straight out in front of me; I had poured some Clorox on the floor and had forgotten to wipe it up. I went crashing backwards, screaming, as my back and elbow hit the floor; Oh yes, the hardest, brightest white epoxy floor that one could ever imagine especially designed by me for me. I lay for a time trying to come to myself, and realized I could get up which is always a good sign.
In pain I drove to the emergency ward and 6 hours later was diagnosed with a broken elbow and sent to an orthopedic surgeon. The next day, one day to go now till vacating day, I ran for a referral; you know those HMO'S, and when I saw the Dr. after a 2 hour wait, he said, "bad, bad, you need a specialist who does elbows, I do not touch a break like yours." I looked around his waiting room and could not believe my eyes, people were coming in on stretchers, on walkers, on crutches with broken up and down bodies; was my astonishing black and blue elbow actually worse than those injured souls? I would be homeless within 24 hours; what was I going to do? All bets were off for me to go to S.F. And then I realized it might be less overwhelming for me to actually go to Ca., after all I was guaranteed a bed with my son and family!
I decided to go." I am going," I said. I would blow off the elbow specialist, my second referral. Oddly enough I was not in much pain. I lay down on the floor mattress to sleep, ready to leave in the A. M. and waited for the alarm to go off. I was startled out of my sleep at 5:00 A.M. "What am I crazy, how can I go, how can I endure such a flight with two changes no less? So at 5:15 A. M. I cancelled the flight and shuttle service, and at 9:00 A. M. I was ready to vacate my apartment.
I did a once mop over with my good hand, the valet packed my mustang with just enough room for me to sit. There I went, driving my self to the specialist assuming he would admit me pronto and I at least would beat the game and not be homeless. The hospital would take good care of me. I figured it out perfectly!
The specialist agreed that an operation was the only way to go; but not just yet. It would take at least 5 days over Easter and Passover weekend to get it together and with that he said, ' There is s no harm in you going to S. F. and having it done there.' OMG, should I really re-book? My son agreed," come on out; I don't know why you cancelled in the first place." With my car packed, I drove back to my building where I would leave my car, stopped at Walgreen's to fill a prescription to avoid blood clotting on the flight and called the shuttle service to pick me up to board my new re-booked flight in the A. M.
I took the suitcases for S. F. leaving the rest in the car as planned, and boarded the shuttle service having made a reservation to sleep at an air port hotel. I would fly out early the next morning.
The shuttle took me to the wrong hotel. After arguing with the receptionist that I had a reservation, I realized it was true; I had mixed up the hotel name, so back in the van with all of the cases, my head spinning, and finally arriving at a lovely place with two of the most delicious beds I ever saw and collapsed into one of them for the night.
I had made the right decision; I would endure the plane ride but then it would all be smooth sailing with lots of attention from my family.
Until I opened up my e-mail and found a message from my son. "Mom, how bout going to Lake Tahoe for the weekend?" I could not believe what I had just read. That did it. I was shattered, homeless, broken, in pain, needing an operation, exhausted, but that statement pushed me to where Thelma and Louise went.
What was wrong with him; how could I come off of a seven hour flight and drive four hours the next day to Tahoe in a van with the kids? OMG. In his defense, he figured, nothing will happen till next week, so why waste a perfectly good ski weekend? Exactly, except that I needed tender loving care and was willing to travel 3000 miles to get it! it was not about you dear son. My blood soared, my sister called her nephew while I freaked out knowing I would now cancel my second flight. I would stay in Miami and would give the TLC to my self. I had now spent $300.00 in re-booking fees within 24 hours.
I fell into a deep sleep. I called the surgeon the next morning and said," I am your patient; please operate." He said, you need to get to the hospital today for pre op or I can not operate for a whole week. I was devastated; there was no way logistically that I could get back to the hospital and what about all of my luggage; how could I move into the hospital with all of my things and I would need a room to come back to. It was Passover, nothing mattered; I had an English muffin.
The hotel was quite nice, I rested and decided that it was not life threatening so would let the week go by and stay put; not so bad, as long as I was comfortable. The Dr. called back the next day, reconsidering," get to the hospital tomorrow and I will do the surgery on Monday."
It was a date, but wait, I had to find a place to stay post op. Remember I was homeless.
Craig's list brought up two possible apartments; I made arrangements to take a look at them both on the way to surgery
My little brother Mark was born to save me that Saturday morning. He picked me up, in his 27 year old Cadillac; he had a brand new sports car, but since I had so much luggage it would never fit. The only problem was that every time we stopped, we prayed it would start. We made it to South Beach to apartment one, and I would have taken anything that was half way decent but not that disaster, better to live with a broken elbow sleeping on the beach. The bed was in the kitchen and when I picked up the window shade it was hiding a parking garage. But yes, the ad was true, it was on the beach. P. S. for $1200.00 a month.
We got back in 27 year old and stopped at hotels along the way just in case apartment two did not work out. But either the receptionist was off duty or the sign to the office was pointed in the wrong direction, there was literally no one to talk to and I was exhausted from running around South Beach and had to get to the hospital immediately. We continued on to apartment two, and yes, it was great. Just a hotel room with big windows, light bright and ready. I booked it for my return.
But what to do with the luggage? I did not want to rent the room 5 days early just for luggage storage, so we brought it all back to my car and packed it up again with the N. Y. luggage. Mark and I stopped for a Starbucks and proceeded to the emergency ward. I hugged him and thanked him goodbye.
No sooner did he leave that I realized I had gone to the wrong emergency ward. The nurse said, "don't worry, it is just across the street;" I believed her. In the Miami heat with my hospital bag on wheels I walked 10 blocks to the right emergency ward, and 10 hours later after all of the pre op tests I was admitted to a private room with the second best bed I ever did see. The 10 hours in the emergency ward showed me life on the inside, the terrible traumas people go through and now I was one of them, flattened down to a pulp, helpless, homeless and broken. I always thought I was younger and stronger than all of the poor souls who had misfortunes. I was learning fast to be compassionate and human.
Hospitals don't care; there is no time zone, what is wrong with being awakened at 4:00 A. M for a X ray ? Does it matter? If one thinks they are going to a hospital for rest, forget it. I then got the surprise of my life, my son Eric from Vt. came to visit. True he had a business appointment the next day, but decided to come one day early to see me. It was great, he listened to my nonsense and pain. I told him that I had cancelled all of my book talks in S. F., I cancelled my yoga retreat and all else. Roger, my Lake Tahoe son called several times and sent a beautiful bouquet (yes, on his way to Tahoe.) Norman my ex husband sent a room full of roses, Leslie called each day from Switzerland.
Passover and Easter passed and that Monday I was wheeled in. Eric came back to visit me in the trauma ward before they put me under. The operation was a success, I came out of it, but with increased pain. I had a private room, my Internet worked and so did my cell and I was a happy Hospital patient.
I was re-leased 2 days later, learning to shower, learning to take care of my self; I lucked out with my HMO, a great Dr. the best hospital and even pick up and delivery service from and to my new room.
So here I am in my new room, a whole week has already passed, a true sabbatical to heal and mend. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, just heal. No more broken elbow, no more homeless. It is a simple hotel room with a little refrigerator, a comfortable bed, wi fi, cell and a bath. There is staff and guest to talk to, visitors come and go.
I did fall, I did get up from the fall, and I did survive and I did it all by myself; except for brother Mark.
Carol Sue Gershman
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Clutz or Putz?
We do have accidents even though supposedly there are none; but I think most of us who break bones fall into 2 categories. Either we are a KLUTZ or a PUTZ!
Now take me who shattered my elbow by falling backwards on the floor. I had put Clorox on the floor to clean a spot and forgot to wipe it up. So was I a KLUTZ to slip and fall or was I a PUTZ not to have wiped it up? See what I mean?
Now take a friend trying out for the big triathlon. She was going at it so hard that she finally flipped over her bicycle handle bars and landed on her head and bruised her body spraining her wrist. So was she driving her bicycle like a KLUTZ or was she simply a PUTZ by driving her self so hard that she landed in a ditch?
My daughter went cross country skiing. She had been to an acupuncturist who had told her she was tired and run down a bit and to take it easy on her ski vacation. So instead of skiing she thought cross country would be easier on her; except she fell down and hurt her shoulder. So was she a KLUTZ or a PUTZ not to hear the signals given to her.
Someone else I know was gardening and fell down. He saw a bruise and put on a band aid on it and forgot about it. About a week later he began to feel feverish and this was right before his big 70 birthday. He went straight to the Dr. who immediately admitted him for a staff infection and there he was unable to meet his guests. Was he A KLUTZ to fall or a PUTZ not to have checked what was going on under his band aid?
Well you got the picture. If you have been a KLUTZ or a PUTZ or both, send me your story. Maybe it will become a book.
Carol Sue Gershman
Now take me who shattered my elbow by falling backwards on the floor. I had put Clorox on the floor to clean a spot and forgot to wipe it up. So was I a KLUTZ to slip and fall or was I a PUTZ not to have wiped it up? See what I mean?
Now take a friend trying out for the big triathlon. She was going at it so hard that she finally flipped over her bicycle handle bars and landed on her head and bruised her body spraining her wrist. So was she driving her bicycle like a KLUTZ or was she simply a PUTZ by driving her self so hard that she landed in a ditch?
My daughter went cross country skiing. She had been to an acupuncturist who had told her she was tired and run down a bit and to take it easy on her ski vacation. So instead of skiing she thought cross country would be easier on her; except she fell down and hurt her shoulder. So was she a KLUTZ or a PUTZ not to hear the signals given to her.
Someone else I know was gardening and fell down. He saw a bruise and put on a band aid on it and forgot about it. About a week later he began to feel feverish and this was right before his big 70 birthday. He went straight to the Dr. who immediately admitted him for a staff infection and there he was unable to meet his guests. Was he A KLUTZ to fall or a PUTZ not to have checked what was going on under his band aid?
Well you got the picture. If you have been a KLUTZ or a PUTZ or both, send me your story. Maybe it will become a book.
Carol Sue Gershman
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Stranger things have happened?
Yesterday when I was showering, suddenly there came a drilling noise; I peaked out of the shower curtain wondering what was going on in my apartment but the sound remained within the shower area. I realized the sound was coming from my neighbors pipes above me. I figured sure, just one more thing; my luck, now his water pipes. In this building in order to report noise or such to the management, the doorman has to come and take a listen. It has to be proven that it is not all in my head. So After I dried off, and with the sound continuing, I called the front desk. Wonderful Steve came running up, and luckily the noise persisted so Steve could hear what I heard. Yes, I had a case for the management. "Sounds weird; can't imagine" he said. By now the chief engineer of the building arrived at work and Steven sent him straight up to me. He too heard it wondering if the new set of pipes the neighbor installed could be it! And then he saw it. He saw with his own eyes the disturbing noise... Yup. I had forgotten to shut off my new battery operated tooth brush....
And here is a funnier one. Several years ago in another apartment I heard music. Well it was the same song playing over and over again.
So I called the management and we decided it had to be coming from the upstairs apartment. Probably they left the music on and had left home. So the management entered with a pass key, but there was dead silence in the upstairs apartment. The management went downstairs knocking on doors asking, could the repetitious music be coming from their apartment. No, no , no as the music played on.
We were baffled, and then oh then, we realized that I had set something off. In a box in my apt. was a greeting card that played music and somehow I had put something on top of the box which set it off.
So look at me blaming the world!
Carol Sue Gershman
And here is a funnier one. Several years ago in another apartment I heard music. Well it was the same song playing over and over again.
So I called the management and we decided it had to be coming from the upstairs apartment. Probably they left the music on and had left home. So the management entered with a pass key, but there was dead silence in the upstairs apartment. The management went downstairs knocking on doors asking, could the repetitious music be coming from their apartment. No, no , no as the music played on.
We were baffled, and then oh then, we realized that I had set something off. In a box in my apt. was a greeting card that played music and somehow I had put something on top of the box which set it off.
So look at me blaming the world!
Carol Sue Gershman
Friday, April 3, 2009
Interesting film named "Medicine for Meloncoly"
We have a little cinematic here in South Beach and tonight an independent film maker named Barry Jenkins introduced his film to the Miami audience.
He made the film for $4000 and it has been shown at all film festivals around the world. The story is about a BLACK couple who meet by chance and decide to spend the day together. She has a WHITE boyfriend who is out of town, and while she is reluctant to cheat on him, the male character draws her in and she surrenders, but only for the day.
What I found interesting about the film is that it took place in San Francisco and I happen to be headed that way next week. It was a great travelogue about the city and I will be sure to go to their many museums and will take my granddaughter with me.
The film brought out the question, why is a BLACK person drawn to a WHITE person for a mate? Is it to become part of the WHITE world?
So why are WHITE people drawn to BLACK people for a mate? I do not think it is to become part of the BLACK world. I can only speak for myself. I found the inter-race exciting. I thought the contrast of color was beautiful especially if both people are beautiful to begin with.But in essence I wish there was not any difference; I wish we did not see color; yet we do no matter how hard we try and so does the other race.
But here is another question; does a BLACK person or a WHITE person have to be beautiful, exciting, charming to draw in the other race? Is it just for a special few who are lucky enough to cross over, spread their horizons and become more worldly? In years to come, maybe it will all be behind us broadening the circle of life forever.
Carol Sue Gershman
He made the film for $4000 and it has been shown at all film festivals around the world. The story is about a BLACK couple who meet by chance and decide to spend the day together. She has a WHITE boyfriend who is out of town, and while she is reluctant to cheat on him, the male character draws her in and she surrenders, but only for the day.
What I found interesting about the film is that it took place in San Francisco and I happen to be headed that way next week. It was a great travelogue about the city and I will be sure to go to their many museums and will take my granddaughter with me.
The film brought out the question, why is a BLACK person drawn to a WHITE person for a mate? Is it to become part of the WHITE world?
So why are WHITE people drawn to BLACK people for a mate? I do not think it is to become part of the BLACK world. I can only speak for myself. I found the inter-race exciting. I thought the contrast of color was beautiful especially if both people are beautiful to begin with.But in essence I wish there was not any difference; I wish we did not see color; yet we do no matter how hard we try and so does the other race.
But here is another question; does a BLACK person or a WHITE person have to be beautiful, exciting, charming to draw in the other race? Is it just for a special few who are lucky enough to cross over, spread their horizons and become more worldly? In years to come, maybe it will all be behind us broadening the circle of life forever.
Carol Sue Gershman
When was the last time you moved?
What is it about us people? Why do we have so many possessions? Do you know how many boxes I sent to storage today? 42 and it is only me and from a one bedroom apartment.
I did down size and I am not a collector except for: books, photos, dishes, silverware, linens, appliances, clothes, drug items and brick bra ck. I guess you can call me C Bay..(c for Carol)
And this time I have to pay for it. Those storage units are not cheap and what a business they have going on. I looked into one of them to see what other people were accumulating; what a bunch of junk and what a mess I did see.
Yet, that is who we are, what we have spent money on, what we own and think we need.
Truly one person does NEED a bed, a pair of sheets, a cover, one TV, normal size, two place settings, a can opener, 2 pots, OK. clothes and a tooth brush. That is it. Oh no, not my computer, I ain't given that up. You know that thing we all had to learn a few years ago that I wanted to throw out of the window from frustration?
Well you get the picture and oh the poor moving men, they work so hard dragging every one's stuff around the universe. Truly I had them sweating and begging for water. I even gave one of the movers a glass of ice water to take with him.
Oh well, you get the picture!
Carol Sue Gershman
I did down size and I am not a collector except for: books, photos, dishes, silverware, linens, appliances, clothes, drug items and brick bra ck. I guess you can call me C Bay..(c for Carol)
And this time I have to pay for it. Those storage units are not cheap and what a business they have going on. I looked into one of them to see what other people were accumulating; what a bunch of junk and what a mess I did see.
Yet, that is who we are, what we have spent money on, what we own and think we need.
Truly one person does NEED a bed, a pair of sheets, a cover, one TV, normal size, two place settings, a can opener, 2 pots, OK. clothes and a tooth brush. That is it. Oh no, not my computer, I ain't given that up. You know that thing we all had to learn a few years ago that I wanted to throw out of the window from frustration?
Well you get the picture and oh the poor moving men, they work so hard dragging every one's stuff around the universe. Truly I had them sweating and begging for water. I even gave one of the movers a glass of ice water to take with him.
Oh well, you get the picture!
Carol Sue Gershman
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
It must be cancer
What fears we have about cancer.
You see the last few weeks I was not feeling like me. My stomach was gnawing and my back hurt too. What a combination. ut oh..better go on line and check this one out; too early to bother the Doctor. So there I was, ulcers? kidney? stress? hemorrhage? No none of those. It had to be cancer, but oh my God cancer of the stomach, it could not be worse. Still too early to bother the Doctor. I will just pay attention to my stomach and back and clock the symptoms and suffer within.
Had I done everything I wanted to do in my life? Were my affairs in order? Did I say I love you? I quickly changed my diet; only comfort foods, lots of water to flush it all down, lots of rest and vitamins. Stay away from Advil or other pain stoppers, that could really make my stomach hurt.
O. K. I better go to the Dr.on an emergency visit as a real appointment would be too far in advance. So there I sat yesterday waiting in the office hoping to be pushed in between the legitimate appointments and finally, there he was; my Doctor. "What is wrong he asked?" I told him all of the symptoms and told him the really bad news. I was leaving town next week on an extended trip and my insurance only worked here. He not being an alarmist said, o.k. better get a cat scan; you have to make sure you are o.k.to travel.
So I got the referral and ran up the steps to the lab and made an appointment for the next day. I was handed some gooky looking syrup to take and no food what so ever 4 hours before the scan, meaning my morning tea would have to wait. Horrors!
I went to sleep and guess what? I WOKE UP FEELING FINE. How could this be? I am supposed to be sick. Maybe I will postpone the appointment for the next day to see how it plays out.
Well, the next day I was fine too. You see this is the moral.
I was queasy and my back did hurt but that did not mean I had CANCER. We, I, are so filled with fear of the dreaded that our imagination runs wild when anything slightly out of the norm happens to us.
I do thank god that I am fine but it amazes me how my mind actually works.....
And yours?
Carol Sue Gershman
You see the last few weeks I was not feeling like me. My stomach was gnawing and my back hurt too. What a combination. ut oh..better go on line and check this one out; too early to bother the Doctor. So there I was, ulcers? kidney? stress? hemorrhage? No none of those. It had to be cancer, but oh my God cancer of the stomach, it could not be worse. Still too early to bother the Doctor. I will just pay attention to my stomach and back and clock the symptoms and suffer within.
Had I done everything I wanted to do in my life? Were my affairs in order? Did I say I love you? I quickly changed my diet; only comfort foods, lots of water to flush it all down, lots of rest and vitamins. Stay away from Advil or other pain stoppers, that could really make my stomach hurt.
O. K. I better go to the Dr.on an emergency visit as a real appointment would be too far in advance. So there I sat yesterday waiting in the office hoping to be pushed in between the legitimate appointments and finally, there he was; my Doctor. "What is wrong he asked?" I told him all of the symptoms and told him the really bad news. I was leaving town next week on an extended trip and my insurance only worked here. He not being an alarmist said, o.k. better get a cat scan; you have to make sure you are o.k.to travel.
So I got the referral and ran up the steps to the lab and made an appointment for the next day. I was handed some gooky looking syrup to take and no food what so ever 4 hours before the scan, meaning my morning tea would have to wait. Horrors!
I went to sleep and guess what? I WOKE UP FEELING FINE. How could this be? I am supposed to be sick. Maybe I will postpone the appointment for the next day to see how it plays out.
Well, the next day I was fine too. You see this is the moral.
I was queasy and my back did hurt but that did not mean I had CANCER. We, I, are so filled with fear of the dreaded that our imagination runs wild when anything slightly out of the norm happens to us.
I do thank god that I am fine but it amazes me how my mind actually works.....
And yours?
Carol Sue Gershman
Hilarious/ lotto ticket
Oh sure, we all want to win the lottery; some more than others of course. Even those with money want more. Why not?
Now take this Swiss guy Henry living in Switzerland. He really wanted to win.. His gut told him, play, play, play; THIS IS THE ONE. It was a huge payout, so much so that the player had to fill out proper forms just to enter. The timing had to be accurate. Henry followed all of the rules without any problem because he knew; he knew without a doubt in no time he would be RICH..No more work, he and his beautiful wife would travel, buy homes and lead the good life. Oh yes, no doubt about this one, it belonged to him.
But Henry made one mistake. He booked a trip away from home the very night of the drawing. He forgot one rule. He had to be home to answer the phone in order to collect his prize.
His wife would not hear of cancelling the trip they had planned, as she was not quite as vulnerable as Henry. What to do? Only one thing; call mommy and daddy and ask for help. So there came his elderly mom and dad who had to drive 50 miles on snow bound Alp roads to get to Henry's apartment in time to answer the phone. They made it. There they sat, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.... and waiting...
Henry bought a dream; who knows in the end it could have been more of a thrill to dream than to actually win. You know what they say, money does not buy happiness. And Henry and his wife are truly happy and as you can see were fortunate enough to already be on a trip; they already had won lifes lottery.
Carol Sue Gershman
Now take this Swiss guy Henry living in Switzerland. He really wanted to win.. His gut told him, play, play, play; THIS IS THE ONE. It was a huge payout, so much so that the player had to fill out proper forms just to enter. The timing had to be accurate. Henry followed all of the rules without any problem because he knew; he knew without a doubt in no time he would be RICH..No more work, he and his beautiful wife would travel, buy homes and lead the good life. Oh yes, no doubt about this one, it belonged to him.
But Henry made one mistake. He booked a trip away from home the very night of the drawing. He forgot one rule. He had to be home to answer the phone in order to collect his prize.
His wife would not hear of cancelling the trip they had planned, as she was not quite as vulnerable as Henry. What to do? Only one thing; call mommy and daddy and ask for help. So there came his elderly mom and dad who had to drive 50 miles on snow bound Alp roads to get to Henry's apartment in time to answer the phone. They made it. There they sat, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.... and waiting...
Henry bought a dream; who knows in the end it could have been more of a thrill to dream than to actually win. You know what they say, money does not buy happiness. And Henry and his wife are truly happy and as you can see were fortunate enough to already be on a trip; they already had won lifes lottery.
Carol Sue Gershman
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