Dr. Phil

Did any of you watch the Dr. Phil show today? It was sad and I got angry at seeing some smiles and laughter in the audience. Scammers on the elderly; this was the topic. I always say if the scammers and cheaters of our world would spend half the time thinking about work as much as they ponder on scamming, we would see many a genius walking around.

I felt bad for the lady. She claimed she loved her husband who had died earlier; but she had not been in love with him. She is 71 years old and before she dies, she wants to be in love.

One of those scammers from another part of the world has got a strong hold on her. Now I should say here that this has not been proven by the show as of yet. There is a part 2 tomorrow afternoon; but even the previews seem to lean on it being a scam, so I don’t want to say scammer for sure. Maybe I should say, possible scam alert!

So this woman who desperately wanted to fall in love finds the perfect man online. Dark  hair, beautiful eyes, so polite. They never meet but through love-talk emails, texts, and phone calls, he somehow manages to get $218,000 from her.

It is so bad, that she even lost her home because she was giving this guy so much money each month she couldn’t keep up her house payments. Her step-daughter was on the show and the dagger words that flew back and forth just about killed me.

It was very hard to decide whether the two ladies were fighting because mom lost all her money, or the daughter had so many items purchased by mom, such as a new updated kitchen, that she was mad because mom had no more money. Like I said, it was hard for me to tell.

The whole thing is sad. To want something so bad, you will give up all you have for someone who may or not exist. Is this what people are thinking when they see no other way out but suicide?

I will watch tomorrow to see if my hunch is right, a scammer on the take. I sure hope this mom and step-daughter can find their way back to each other. If you have an elderly family member or an older neighbor you are friends with, and if they have access to a computer, please, please teach them about the scammers, especially the ones who like to clean house of the elderly.

Al’s Birthday and My Moving

I have been so busy lately, I  have fallen away from blogging. It is always on my mind, but when I write; I don’t need a hundred things rolling around in my head. I am taking the time to let you know that I will be moving this coming Saturday back to Indiana.

If you have moved, then you know what a chore it can be. Add some gait problems and tremors on top, and it takes even longer. I am  about 85% done packing. It is amazing how pictures no longer hanging on the walls makes a house seem so empty. I say a word, and I can almost hear my own echos.

I think that it will be good for me to be moving Saturday. It will keep my mind distracted because Sunday is Alvin’s birthday. I know if I was sitting at home, I would be sad and in tears. He definitely will follow me in my heart back home and I will not forget his birthday, no way.

I will be back next week some time. The other part of packing I don’t like? Unpacking, I don’t even look forward to it.

Well, going to get off of here and go back to loading more boxes. Talk real soon. Hugs.

The cover photo on this page is a girl with a teddy bear representing a symbol of a security blanket. (Photo prompt by Marcella Leff, administrator)

You may write a poem in any style or form ONLY on a security blanket. Post the poem only. Explanation about your poem is permissible. No other photos. Poems with photos will be deleted. You may post as many poems as you want but comments are counted per poem only.

Winner will be judged by the most original comments. One person can make many comments but only counts as one comment for winning at the end of the time limit. Your own comments do not count because you cannot judge your own poem.

Contest will be from April 28 until May 5, 9:30 pm. All members are invited to enter this contest. You can add your friends to join. Challenge them.

Administrators may post examples of poems but are not eligible to win. Administrators can like your poems but their comments do not count.

A new prompt will be posted every week.

Poetry in My Mind Group

 

Security

Security blanket reminds

Me of babies so sweet

Sucking their thumbs

Carrying blankets ore feet.

 

Babies toss them aside

As they grow and mature

But are they secure

I’m not really quite sure.

 

I notice that teens

And some adults too

Don’t carry a blanket

They use different tools.

 

Some are cutters

Others sell themselves out

Some use those drugs

That we’ve all learned about.

 

With even the best

Parenting that we know how to do

There are those who didn’t hear it

And don’t think they’re cool.

 

None of us are perfect

We all have a place

Where we don’t feel we fit in

This big human race.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

4-29-2015

 

 

 

 

Multiple System Atrophy

MULTIPLE SYSTEM ATROPHY

It scares you, I know

These feelings that you feel

A churning inside

The turning of a wheel.

 

You were always so good

Treated others so kind

So why does this happen

The key that unwinds.

 

I swear I know not the answer

I pray for a cure

I pull in support

Just like a flashy fishing lure.

 

I ask everyone to help

I speak of this every day

I will spread news everywhere

This terrible disease MSA.

 

I know how you are feeling

You feel so all alone

My brother found those days

When the clouds were all that shone.

 

You are not alone I swear

You are not all by yourself

I am with you heart and spirit

Praying for your health.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

4/25/2015

 

snopes.com: Facebook Appeal for Baby Born with Heart Outside Body

snopes.com: Facebook Appeal for Baby Born with Heart Outside Body.

Lemon Crumb Cake – Shugary Sweets

Lemon Crumb Cake – Shugary Sweets.

Copyright

After spending too long and almost giving myself a headache, can someone tell me where I go to change my copyright date?

Thanks,

Terry

Holding Hands

I was just discussing with an MSA( Multiple System Atrophy) patient about communication. When we think of that word, we  think of various things. A handshake, a kiss on the nose, the look of the eyes, the smell of a beautiful scent.

What happens when there is an illness that prevents communication? That is what MSA does. Al, my brother died a year ago from this terrible disease. I worked my ass off thinking of new ways to communicate with him as the illness took over his body.

Flash cards, blinking of eyes, a squeeze of a finger. It finally got to the place that all the communication I had experience with, had failed.

What do you do when you get to that point? There is technology out there that with digital ability will enable someone to still use a form of communicating. The issue with this is cost.

For Al and me, we learned over the 7 years of this illness, that the disease in itself is costly. We weren’t in a place that there were thousands of dollars laying in a bank so that we could use this new gadget. I wish there had been.

I did what I knew best, which was use a free form of communicating. When Al could no longer blink an eye, turn his eyes, lift a finger, move any body part, we used the strongest and best device we had left to us, our hands.

You see, even though Al and many others who suffer from this type of disease are frozen in spot, the memory and mind are still in great working order. Can you imagine how frustrating it would be to want to say something but can’t? What if his nose itched? How would  I know?

The last two months of Al’s life, he lay motionless. I cried inside. Once in a while I cried in front of Al, because I am weak. I am a Taurus and maybe it is true what the books say about us. We wear our feelings on our sleeves.

Al would stare straight ahead, but I would see an ever so slight movement from him when I cried. I knew it hurt him to see me hurt; so I tried to keep my bright, smiling face on when I was with him.  I know it is going off track here, but I will never forget  how Al and I had our disagreements. We yelled sometimes, he walked off on me a few times, but when someone is so sick as Al got with MSA, you just let all that slide off of you. Suddenly, you don’t remember any of the bad crap, all you see is pure love.

Well, back to the story I was trying to make a point with. For me, I held Al’s hand. I held it a lot. I was able to tell him I loved him. I could let him know I would not leave him alone. I could let him know I would do anything for him possible.

Our hearts spoke, our souls remained bonded. Al understood everything in that one free communication; holding hands.

Photo taken my me.

 

I hate this disease. If you or anyone you know  has MSA, please never hesitate to look me up. I am here to lean on, cry on, scream at, or just listen. You can also visit me at my Facebook page for MSA. There you will find other patients to become friends with. There are beautiful flowers, uplifting quotes, some funny animals to make you smile, and of course, me. I am there to listen while you talk.

 

https://www.facebook.com/MSAfeelingstressed

 

HEAVEN

The cover photo on this page is one afterlife representation of two female spirits supposedly going to heaven* ( See below). (Photo prompt by Marcella Leff, administrator)

You may write a poem in any style or form ONLY on the afterlife. Post the poem only. Explanation about your poem is permissible. No other photos. Poems with photos will be deleted. You may post as many poems as you want but comments are counted per poem only. Since this is the last in the series, try to write an epitaph, example is shown in the posting.

Winner will be judged by the most original comments. One person can make many comments but only counts as one comment for winning at the end of the time limit. Your own comments do not count because you cannot judge your own poem.

Contest will be from April 21 until April 28, 9:30 pm. All members are invited to enter this contest. You can add your friends to join. Challenge them.

Administrators may post examples of poems but are not eligible to win. Administrators can like your poems but their comments do not count.

A new prompt will be posted every week. This is the fifth and last segment in the death and dying series for National Poetry Month for April.

*In philosophy, religion, mythology, and fiction, the afterlife is the concept where an individual’s identity or consciousness continues to exist after the death of the body. And for some individuals who do not hold these beliefs, it can be vampires or just nothing.

HEAVEN

My eyes could not adjust

Light stronger than any lust

Beaming through and all around me

I had passed by the golden key

No words can ever be told

Of the beauty standing oh so bold

The veil over my sight has gone

Clear as bells such lovely songs

Dancing notes upon the clouds

Trumpets in background blaring loud

All my work to do good will

Carried me yonder and over the hill

I stand before Jesus and kneel to my knees

I weep with joy as he welcomes me.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

4/22/2015

The Drug of Choice

I was told this is a true story. I can’t say it is or it isn’t, since I don’t know the girl. What I do know is; young people and old should read this. It is an important message written by the young girl herself.

“I AM METH”
This was written by a young girl who was in jail for drug charges, and was addicted to meth. She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but, true to her story, the drug owned her. They found her dead not long after, with the needle still in her arm….

Please understand, this thing is worse than any of us realize…

My Name Is “Meth”
I destroy homes, I tear families apart, take your children, and that’s just the start.
I’m more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold,
The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
If you need me, remember I’m easily found,
I live all around you – in schools and in town.
I live with the rich; I live with the poor,
I live down the street, and maybe next door.
I’m made in a lab, but not like you think,
I can be made under the kitchen sink.
In your child’s closet, and even in the woods,
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there’s one you know best,
I’m sure you’ve heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you’ll see,
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go,
But try me twice, and I’ll own your soul.
When I possess you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie,
You do what you have to — just to get high.
The crimes you’ll commit for my narcotic charms
Will be worth the pleasure you’ll feel in your arms,
your lungs your nose.
You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal from your dad,
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you’ll forget your morals and how you were raised,
I’ll be your conscience, I’ll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids,
I turn people from God, and separate friends.
I’ll take everything from you, your looks and your pride,
I’ll be with you always — right by your side.
You’ll give up everything – your family, your home,
Your friends, your money, then you’ll be alone.
I’ll take and take, till you have nothing more to give,
When I’m finished with you, you’ll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned – this is no game,
If given the chance, I’ll drive you insane.
I’ll ravish your body, I’ll control your mind,
I’ll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I’ll give you while lying in bed,
The voices you’ll hear, from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you’ll see,
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it’s too late, and you’ll know in your heart,
That you are mine, and we shall not part.
You’ll regret that you tried me, they always do,
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen, many times you were told,
But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away,
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I’ll be your master, you will be my slave,
I’ll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It’s all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.
If you care enough, please forward this profound poem and share the deadly outcome of this drug that is killing our young kids young and old…
please look at my picture what it did to me!!!