Imagine Being Invisible

Imagine what it would be like to be invisible. You would sit quietly, or not so quietly, and people would walk by not acknowledging your presence. And then what about when you spoke to them. Obviously, they would hear you, but they would ignore you...and pretend that they hadn't heard you.

This is what life is like for most of our homeless population on the streets of Los Angeles. Our monthly outreach to the Skid Row area of L.A., with our group, In His Shoes, has shed a different perspective for me on the population on the streets. With the economic downturn, there are more and more people on the street. Not just men, but women...families. I often think that we are all just a paycheck away from the street if it weren't for our support systems, be they family, friends, church.

Not all who are living on the street are "crazy", "mental patients", or "social deviants." I have met many types. For the four years that we have been doing our monthly outreach in Los Angeles, I have met the "regulars" as well as those who are in transition. From what I see, there are 4 different types on the street.

1. There are those that live there and LIKE living there. They are usually men in their 30's and 40's who thrive on the environment, seeing their friends on a day-to-day basis. They may be living in Single Room Occupancy apartments with very low rent, but hardly have enough for food.
2. The mentally challenged. There are those that have mental issues, or that have drug-related problems and they cannot function in a "normal" society
3. The newly homeless. This includes those that have newly lost everything, their jobs and homes. They are the ones that are trying hard to get off the streets, trying to make the best of the programs that are out there. But the programs are so impacted that they may or may not get the help that they need.
4. Those that are living in the shelters but don't have the ability to provide for themselves and therefore end up begging for food and clothing on the street.

I suppose what sparked this writing is a conversation that I had recently with Bob, one of my homeless friends. I see Bob on a daily basis as I walk to my car on Figueroa. Bob is disabled, in a wheelchair with one leg only. He is the kindest, gentlest and most positive soul. As passersby walk to their destinations, Bob sits there, her cup for donations on the sidewalk. He does not beg, but the cup is there. Instead he greets people, compliments them on their clothing, discusses the sporting events that happened, yet as I approach I notice that there are not many that even make eye contact with Bob. And I started wondering what that would feel like, to be a "non-person." I imagine it would disheartening, if not incredibly lonely.
A couple months ago, I noticed that Bob was wearing glasses. I asked him about it. "A couple months ago, some people took me to Costco to get my eyes checked. They ordered glasses for me, but I wasn't able to go there to pick them up." They picked them up for me and now I can see. I asked him, 'So now that you can see all of us, tell me, are we as beautiful and handsome as you always tell us we are? I mean, now that you can see." He laughed and said, "Everyone is beautiful. I love Los Angeles. I'm blesed to be here."
A couple months ago, I overheard Bob tell someone that his birthday was coming up. When I asked him, he told me his birthday was on December 7 - Pearl Harbor Day. He was going to be 53. As the weeks went by, Bob referenced his upcoming birthday a few times to me. I told him that I had the date in mind - December 7. Bob's birthday was two days ago. As I wished him happy birthday on my way to the car, and handed him a bad with his birthday gift (a pack of underwear that he had asked for), he said something to me that I will not forget. I wanted to share it with you.
After thanking me for the gift, he said, "You always remember my name. And I appreciate that, ma'am. You know who I am." I can't forget this. Our homeless brothers and sisters are people, just like you and I. They are the children of fathers and mothers. They are the brothers and sisters of families. Those families may or may not know where they are, or care about them. But this doesn't discount the fact that they are human beings with needs, fears, hopes and dreams like all of us. They just lack the support systems that we so readily enjoy. They have names and birthdays.

Happy Birthday to Bob. May your life be filled with the beauty and goodness that you so readily see in all of us.

Here's what you can donate to the homeless in your community

It's often difficult to know what to give to the homeless. I hear people tell me they don't want to give money because they fear the person will use it for alcohol or drugs. That may or may not be the case, however, if you would prefer to give items to the homeless in your community, here are some suggestions that I find are asked for on a regular basis on our homeless outreach.

• Socks
• Blankets/Sleeping Bags
• Toiletries (the little bottles from hotels are a great size for the homeless)
• Towels
• Sweatshirts, Sweatpants or Jeans
• Shoes

Conversations about Underwear on Figueroa

About a month or so ago, I was heading toward my car on Figueroa after finishing up at work.  As usual, Bob was in his spot, sitting in his wheelchair, he greeted the passers-by with "Your hair looks nice," "What a game last night, huh?", and "I like your earrings."  I would say about 50% don't even make eye contact.  That's pretty good considering most homeless people on the street.  Bob is different.  He's likeable.  Very even tempered, and very complimentary.  That's his schtick.  That's Bob.  On that day, he was asking someone if they had seen Puss n' Boots.  He said that he thought it was a funny film and recommended that this man take his son to see the film.  "My son is 18.  He's not going to sit through Puss n' Boots."  To which Bob replied, "Well, I'm going to be 53, and I sat through it...and really liked it!"  At that time, I was approaching, and he starting asking me if I had seen the movie.  I told him I hadn't, but asked him when his upcoming birthday was having overheard his conversation.

"December 7!  I was born on Pearl Harbor Day,1958."  So I remembered.  For the past 6 weeks or so, every once in a while Bob would mention that he had an upcoming birthday, to which I'd say, "I know. Pearl Harbor Day, 1958."  Everytime I say this, Bob says, "Aw, ma'am...you remembered my birthday."  I've told Bob my name, but he calls me "ma'am" which I would hate from anyone else, but from Bob, it's okay. 

So yesterday as I passed Bob, I asked him what he needed for his birthday.  "Aw, ma'am, you remembered!...Well, I could use some pants, but I know a couple people that said they would get me some."  I asked about food thinking I could get him a gift card to Corner Bakery (I know he likes their chili).    But he said, "no, I have enough food...I get so much from people going by that sometimes I have to give it away."  So that was out.  Then he said, "Ma'am?  I could actually use some underwear though."  I said okay, happy to have a definite gift idea.  And then there I was.  On Figueroa, discussing underwear with Bob.  What kind?  Boxers?  Tighty whiteys?  What size?  And it struck me as funny as I was walking away because I was having this conversation about something somewhat intimate with Bob who is just really an acquaintance...but an acquaintance in need of underwear.  That evening, in Costco, I told my husband that I was picking up underwear for Bob.  "Who's Bob?" he asked.  "Bob, my friend in the wheelchair."  "Oh, okay."  Neddy know I have a soft spot for the homeless.    

Bob is 53 today.  It's Pearl Harbor day.  He has a long gray beard, long gray hair tied back in a pony tail.  He has one leg and sits in a wheelchair with all his belongings tied to it.   He has soft green eyes, and would actually be a handsome man if he wasn't so unkempt.  He's about the most positive man I've met.  Despite the adversity, he sits there every day as the world walks by, talking to whomever will carry a conversation with him.  When I ask, "How are you today, Bob."  He says, "Keepin' positive!  God is good."  He has every  reason to think the opposite.  Just last week when it got to be so chilly, I asked him where he goes at night.  He said that last night he spent the night on the floor of his friend's bathroom, and in his positive way said, "but it was indoors and out of the cold!"  That's how Bob is.  Always positive.

As I approached him today, he was talking to another homeless man who was standing close by.    I watched as Bob counted out money from his cup and gave it to the man.   The man looked at me and said, "I'm hungry and just need some money for food...for a burrito."  Bob was sharing his money with him, and I gave him the rest.  I've seen this many times before on our homeless outreach.  The sense of community and belonging of the homeless toward one another.  After the man had left, I handed Bob the bag with his gift.  I had wrapped his underwear six-pack in colorful paper and added a card.  Bob looked inside the bag.  "Aw ma'am, you remembered my birthday...and you even wrapped my present...and there's a card too?  And you always remember my name.  I appreciate that, ma'am, that you know my name." 

Makes you think, doesn't it?    The little things are what matter.  To someone who is "invisible" to the general populace, having someone know/remember your name is a big deal.  Having someone even acknowledge your presence is special.  And I suppose having them remember your birthday is just icing on the cake! 

Happy Birthday Bob.  May your life be filled with the beauty that you so easily see in all of us!

Epiphany at Thanksgiving

Epiphany - noun - a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely or commonplace occurrence or experience. 

You know the final scene of Dickens' Christmas Carol, where Ebeneezer Scrooge, enlightened by the meaning of Christmas, opens his window on the village below and wishes passersby a Merry Christmas?  Well, that's how it is for me this year with Thanksgiving.  Upon leaving work yesterday, I was wishing everyone (and I mean everyone!) a happy Thanksgiving.  I even hugged building security on my way out.

I have always loved Thanksgiving and the concept behind it.  A day to give thanks to God for all our blessings.  A day to enjoy the family.  But this year is different.  It's more than a "concept" and so much more than a day.  In reflection of all that has happened, healthwise, this year - recovery from gallbladder surgery, colon cancer, breast cancer round two/mastectomy surgery, my brother's colon cancer - it's actually been a very BLESSED year and I am so much richer, more blessed, and in a better place for it.  My heart is filled with joy, thankfulness, love, and compassion because of the experiences of this year.

Yes, we went through some tough times....BUT, today, on November 24, I am alive and well.  Not only that, but I am thriving.  This year, I saw my daughter graduate nursing school and move on to be a successful pediatric nurse.  I have seen my son thrive in his job as a project manager.  I have witnessed the love shared between my future son-in-law and my daughter and the respect and caring they have toward one another.  I have known true love from my husband who has been there for me every step of this journey...and who worries about me.  : ) 

I am blessed with a close family...that love and care for me.  That are there for me.  That support me, pray for me, cooked for me when I came home from the hospital.  I am thankful for a mom that came over to take care of me, even when she wasn't feeling well herself....who loves to spend time with me, watch dr. phil, judge judy and oprah with me....and give me advice on what vitamins to take and what books to read.  I am blessed with a closeness between my brothers and sister who send me sound clips of TV shows of the past - no brag, just fact - who text me to see how my doctor's appointments went, who buy me a bag of 36 popsicles when I just mentioned that "a" popsicle sounds good, and who share with me the stories of my nephews and nieces to put into perpective the beauty and preciousness of life.

I am blessed with a handful of true friends who are there for me through thick and thin.  Who email me throughout my day, one or two sentences, to commiserate about how we wish were were home now, or to share our days - happy or nerve-wracking --, or send me funny photos at just the right time.  : )   Who share crochet patterns with me, and laugh with me.  Who reach out to the homeless with me and who work toward making the world a better place.  Who rent a van and drive all the way out to Carpinteria, potluck in tow, to cheer my daughter and I cross the finish line after walking 39 miles for breast cancer.  AND THEN...who sign up to walk those 39 miles with me next year!  You have made my life better - every one of you. 

I have another family - a church family - that I am grateful for.  These are family members some of whose last names I don't even know. But it's not important.  We're all part of a larger family.  These are people that come up to me on Sundays, embrace me and ask how I'm feeling.  And tell me that they have been praying for me.  I know.  I can feel it.   I am humbled by them.

I am in tune as well to the blessings of my body and how it is working, despite it's problems.  The coordination it is taking for my brain to put the thought into motion, typing it on my screen right now, seeing the words pop up, hearing the clicking of the keys while being able to hear Segovia play Mendelssohn's String quartet No. 1 in E flat major.  Miraculous.  Smelling and tasting the coffee.  Feeling the warmth of my robe, enjoying the light in my dining room, and the love of my kitties that are "kuskurduvel"ing on against my legs. 

I am thankful for all my medical providers, whose hands - guided by God - helped me be here today.  My surgeons who removed cancer, re-routed me, created new parts for me -- I am truly grateful.  And for the nurses who took care of me around the clock ....and even the workers that cooked the meals in the hospital, and those who came and cleaned my room.  I appreciate them all so much more now.

I think I could go on and on...all day.   The Epiphany of Thanksgiving...on this very special Thanksgiving, is that everyday is a day of thanks.  The miracle of life is a blessing.  Our hearts beating, day in and day out since the day we were born; the wonder of our bodies working on their own...breathing without our conscious effort.  And the realization that we are not alone here...we all are part of one another.  We belong to one another. 

Life is precious and I am so blessed to live the life I do.  A full life.  A life filled with love and fullness because of so many who grace it. 

It has been an amazing year!  A Blessed Year!  Happy Thanksgiving!

Team In Her Shoes - Walking Glendale

It was a beautiful fall morning.  The air was chilly and crisp, there were clouds teasing us of a chance of rain, but seven of us on Team In Her Shoes met at the Von's market in Glendale at the 134 to train.  It was our very first training walk.  We met between 7:00 a.m. and 7:15 a.m.

We are Team In Her Shoes.  We're the sister organization of In His Shoes a group that rallies support for those who are suffering in the world.  This year, we decided to sign up to participate in next year's Avon Walk for Breast Cancer Santa Barbara because we are putting ourselves in the shoes of those who are fighting the battle with cancers of all types, but namely, breast cancer.

 
We have 19 team members signed up to walk.  And we have all committed to raising a minimum of $1800 for breast cancer.  Raising the money is not as hard as training.  The walk takes place over the course of 2 days, and we'll be walking 39 miles.  We started off today in Glendale with the goal of walking 3.2 miles. It was a fun walk.  We kept the pace and walked down and through the Americana and back up to the 134.

Along the way we stopped for photo ops at the new Armenian consulate building, and the Christmas tree at the Americana.  It was a fun morning and a great way to start off a productive day.

Would you like to donate to team In Her Shoes?  Please email me at anush@pomegranate-n-eye.com  I'll be setting up our team donation page.  Do you have a business that would like to sponsor our team?  Would you like us to walk in honor or memory of your friend or loved one?  We're here to do that.  We are putting ourselves In Her Shoes!

Like us on Facebook:  "Team In Her Shoes"
Find out more about In His Shoes outreach:  www.inhisshoes.org

PMPS? Or What?

You know the feeling of being bitten by an insect where you get that sting feeling followed by an itch?  And then you have that terrible need to scratch?  Now think of that same feeling, but imagine that your body was numb, so no matter how you scratch or try to remedy that the itch, it doesn't help, because the feeling is not caused by a bite on the surface of your skin, but by nerves that are damaged in your body.  This is what I've been experiencing for the past 3 days.   It's been rough.

Three days ago, I was woken up from my sleep by shooting nerve pains.  The pain started at my incision site below my underarm but deep inside.  It was so intense I didn't know what to do.  Rubbing the area was futile.  As hard as I rubbed, I still couldn't get relief since my incision areas and areas around them are numb.  That first night the itching/stabbing pain lasted about 15 minutes.  The next morning, it came back...on and off throughout the day for short bursts.  By the following evening, I was wincing in pain.  The attacks were lasting longer.  Unable to sleep, I tried an ice pack, then icy hot, then arnica gel.  Nothing worked.  Motrin.... 800 mgs.  No relief.  I got up and tried to research the net.  Googling "Terrible itching pain at incision site after mastectomy" I found a link describing my symptoms and a thread called PMPS or Post Mastectomy Pain Syndrome.  As much as I found relief in reading that others were having symptoms like mine, I am still concerned that this pain is going to be chronic.  What I read stated that there was no "cure" and people were living with the pain.  Up to 30% of post mastectomy women experience this, but the medical community often dismisses it because it's nothing that can be pinpointed, and there's no cure.  

The following day, exhausted, I had to go to work.  The pain was terrible, and throughout the day in my cubicle, I found myself applying pressure to my incision site....pushing, massaging, leaning forward in my chair.  Trying everything possible to get it to stop.  I called the doctor.  "My appointment is not til the 23rd.  But I'm having this terrible pain and I can't seem to get any relief.  I wanted to call and let you know.  The doctor had said that I did have some swelling at my last appointment and I still do.  Is there anything I can take for the pain?"  The receptionist told me she'd discuss it with the surgeon and get back to me.  Fine.  After an hour she called back.  Nothing can be done.  The doctor told me that as long as the breast was not red or hot to the touch, it was okay.  Otherwise, I would just need to let it get better on its own. "The nerves have been cut, and they're regenerating."    I mentioned what I had read about PMPS, but it was dismissed.  "What if I don't get better?"  "You will."  :::shrug:::

Last night I was exhausted from pain, and lack of sleep.  I tried the heating pad on the area.  During the day I had my Rx for Norco refilled.  And today I have been taking it around the clock.  It seems to have helped a bit though it leaves my  head wonky.  I've also limited my caffeine as I read that it over stimulates the nerves and makes you more susceptible to the pain.  The attacks are not as bad though they are still there.  I've also been trying to stretch my arm out during an attack.  In my thinking, I imagine that it's "stretching the nerves" that may be rebelling or pinched or unhappy.

I wanted to post this because this pain was completely unexpected...and not explained to me as a side effect of mastectomy.  You think when you're post op, and healing that you're out of the woods...and then BAM it hits you.  And from what I read, this can be experienced even a year or two (or more) after surgery.  I also wanted to put PMPS out there, in case others are having these feelings/pain.  There's not a lot of info out there, but we're not going crazy.  That feeling of being wrapped in barbed wire is not in your head.  It's in your nerve endings and very real. 

I hope and pray that this will get better and that I do not suffer from this syndrome, but that I'm just healing.  I'm still trying to figure it out.  For now, the pain seems managed, and I'm going to try to get some sleep while I can.  

Fall Seven Times -- (One Week Post Op)

I went back to work this week -- Wait!  It was only yesterday.  Geez...okay, so you can tell how exhausting it's been....felt like Thursday.  Thankfully, I don't have a physically demanding job -- I work at a computer all day -- but still, sitting in one place and dealing with work demands has been draining.


The drain site is still sore even though the drain is out.  It's going to take time to heal.  I am still heavily bandaged...and I always forget to allow extra time to my morning/evening routine.  Changing dressings takes me an extra 10 minutes.  I was told that there can be absolutely NO PRESSURE applied to the wound site, so I have layer upon layer of gauze stacked up to help me achieve this.  
Tomorrow is my post op appointment with the surgeon.  I'm curious if he'll remove the stitches.  The Steri-Strips are still in place (they haven't fallen off yet like they said they would).  We'll see.


Another big change has been that Ani has started working the night shift at Children's Hospital.  This is going to be a "regular" thing for the next year.  I'm so used to having her around.  And now, when she's working, I don't get to see her but for an hour, when I come home and she's getting ready to leave.  We are getting creative in our texting.  I've been staying up late working on jewelry, and we'll send a text here and there at odd hours just to "check in".  But the house is quiet now, and it's a big change for me.  That, coupled with the darkness after the time change, and it's a bit gloomy.  : (


That being said though, all in all, I am feeling optimistic.  I have been thinking a lot about this past year now that we're just a couple months from the end of it.  It's been a tough ride, and 
I'm ready for the New Year to start.  But I am also grateful.  Yes, it's been a tough year...but I am alive!  I made it through, and I'm still fighting!  : )  

"Fall 7 times - stand up 8." Japanese Proverb That's it right there.  Just keep on standing up!  Keep fighting for what you believe in.  Life is precious!

Rain, Drain and BlogWorld Again!

It's November 4, just 3 days after surgery.  Today was the BlogWorld Expo at the L.A. Convention Center, and DV, Suzie and I had planned on going prior to my surgery.  It rained today and my brother didn't want me driving so soon after surgery, so he decided to come pick me up at the house and we'd go together.  I'm doing well...for being only three days post op, there's been very little drainage and after a call to the surgeon's office it was decided that I could have my drain taken out today.  This is a wonderful thing.  The drain leaves my body right under my right arm pit....with tubing that continues to a Jackson Pratt drain that hangs from a clip attached to my waistband.  Not only is it ugly, but it's very painful.  So the idea that I can have this removed today is wonderful.

So first things first, the three of us checked in at the BlogWorld Expo.  It's so much fun.  We went around to all the booths learning about blogging, marketing, monetizing, promoting, and picking up great swag from tshirts, and back scratchers, to insulated cups...you name it.  Belesh!  "The Next Step with Fr. Vazken" Podcast was nominated for a People's Choice award for best religious podcast.  As Suzie is the producer of the show and DV is the host, we were anxious to find out if they had won, but found out that the winners will be announced tomorrow (not today).  Here they are relaxing at the SouthWest Airlines both at the convention center:

Blogger also had a cool photo booth where we took our individual photos.  Here's mine:



After several hours of the show though,  I have to admit that I was exhausted.  My arms and shoulders were aching, and I was just pooped.  We decided to drive out to Encino, closer to my surgeon's office and find a place to have lunch rather than staying around L.A. and risking the traffic.  It was raining, and things were getting messy.

We had lunch together and then made it to the doctor on time.   After a definite okay from the nurse, they removed my drain!  I also have permission to shower now, rather than taking a sponge bath.  More great news.  

Hand bruised from three tries to get the
IV line started

Forearm is bruised as well....
another two tries there.  Imagine, he wanted
to then try my neck!

I am still bandaged but healing okay.  I'm still pretty bruised up from the whole IV line fiasco.  I'm posting a couple pics so you get the idea.  So I went to the doctor today, and the nurse removed my drain!  Afterward, the doctor checked in on me.  I showed him my bruised hands and arm and thanked him for not letting the anesthesiologist tap into my neck vein.  He said, "Well, at least you have a sense of humor about it...I just didn't see why we couldn't use your bad arm for the couple hours we'd be in surgery."  Okay by me!

I have a follow up appointment on November 9 -- next Wednesday, when hopefully, I'll get my stitches removed.  Til then, just taking it a day at a time.