Thoughts

Sunday, December 2009

I think it's the 15th; stayed up for husband's office Christmas Party. Missed a couple of people, and wanted to call them but just couldn't speak another word for the day.

Dysautonomia is exploding in awareness, and the secondary suicides are real. With a nudge from the Holy Spirit, I asked dysautonomia1 on YT, to work on that and now she is sending Congress the faces of dysautonomia. Huh. People that have to fight to get out of bed every day.

My right arm hurts, my eyes burn, I'm getting a little headache, and I need to drink more fluids. But at least I did not wake up parched with thirst this am. I have a little white puppy dancing on my computer, the snores of my husband, the kicks of our daughter as I try not to let anyone lay on the poor littlist puppy you ever saw. She is so adoreable; I hope she stays mellow and sleepy for at least a couple of days.

Wore a dark blue sparkle dress last night. It's a 'Stanford' dress collection of mine, because I wore it to the office Christmas Party at Stanford, when I was a Fellow in Critical Care. Those were such lovely, lovely days of...walking down the hallway and having so many smart people a around you...and you were one of them....and I wasn't made fun of for being smart; my knowledge was appreciated and valued.

I loved going to work every day, and I could not believe that I got paid to do this for a living.

My Dad said that to me once; that he really couldn't believe the job he had. Well, Dad, I had it and I thought of you alot. Thanks for visiting me and taking me to see Apollo 13, which I shall never forget.

Dad was a double major; Mathematics and Physics, and a minor in Military Science. When I was in pre-college algebra, he helped me through all my math until Calculus. But this man could still derive the quadratic equation by heart...and that's when I sat back in my little chair and said, "This is one of the smartest, most intelligent men in the world".

He wrote the programs that help bring the arm out to retrieve broken satelites, and was the Contract Manager for the entire Space Station's Power Supply. It is still circulating in space...the Space Station.

Children are so precious. They remember the littleist things you would never think are of so much importace.

Bye for now. This is much easier than writinglots of YT comments or letters, and I can say different things here, as if I am simply writing in a journal that I know will be found by someone, someday.

I offered someone a position in a yet-to exist nonprofit organization my husband wanted to start; it has been slow-moving but we need a worker-bee to take off with this idea.

Will let you know if position gets accepted or rejected.