Thursday, June 27, 2013

Monday, June 24, 2013

MissNikkiAnn's Live Spreecast - Contagious: Paula Deen

Contagious People

Zimmerman "Coon Killer" Hero

Quotable: Author Denene Millner on Paula "Mad Butter" Deen


New York Times bestselling author Denene Millner, creator of the MyBrownbaby.com parenting website, wrote on cocoafab.com that she wasn’t surprised by Deen’s revelations.
“This is a 66-year-old woman from the South, born close enough to segregation to see the whites of Jim Crow’s eyes,” Millner wrote. “I’ll bet she knows how rank he smells—that rancid, putrid bouquet that escapes when the word “nigger” curls off the tongue. I’m betting, too, that she knows how scary he looks on a dark country road on a hot Southern summer’s night. Or in an equally hot kitchen where Negroes toil.”

“I’m not saying this is the way of every 66-year-old white woman from the South,” Millner concluded. “But I’ve been living in the South for almost a decade, and I’ve got enough honest, good white friends down here who’ve told me in confidence that their grandfathers and daddies and uncles still have white sheets hanging in their closets—not the kind for beds, but the ones rocked with pride in front of burning crosses. Racist behavior lingers—dances all up and through the DNA.”

Sunday, June 23, 2013

MissNikkiAnn's Spreecast: My Body Wins

A Confession

I still have no clue who Justin Bieber is or how he gained his fame.  So as a woman who was born in the 70s and grew-up during the 80s pop culture scene of BET and MTV, I am (at this moment) trying to invest FIVE MINUTES into researching this guy.  My main goal is to listen to ONE song.  But even as I type this, I feel my interest waning (seriously. my illness has given my once-focused mind ADD.).

I am now starring at my screen, contemplating my:  "Chocolate is proof that God wants us to be happy" mug.



I now realize that chocolate as a skin tone is what I hope this mug is referring to.

Starring at the mug.

Thinking of Paula Deen's innate ability to say "nigger."

Hearing footsteps on this Sunday morning.

Sounds as if my mom is getting ready for church.

African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church.

Reminder as to why chocolate people had to establish churches for themselves.

Avoiding going to powder my nose because my illness is affecting my knees and I can barely convince them to bend.  And when they do bend (on their own will and time), the pain is fierce; and afterward, I am unable to get them to straighten out to stand.

My legs hate me.

Racist legs.

Restless legs.

The onset was acute and sudden.

Overnight.

Rheumatologist visit.

X-rays taken.

Physical therapy ordered.

Wait...



Saturday, June 08, 2013

This Is What A Dysautonomic and MCAD* Mom Looks Like

Sir takes indoor swimming lessons.  So that should be a more tolerable environment for my illnesses, right?  Of course not!  I am allergic to chlorine.  I wear a mask and get Benadryl-Emergency Inhaler-Up'd to endure it all, which is 3 days a week.  And that heated pool, which makes the inside pool area feel like hot hell, is my enemy.  The pool is winning the battle.  I am fully bedridden today.  And still struggling to get the pain under control.
*MCAD (Mast Cell Activation Disorder)

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Chronic Pain

I don't mind (anymore) that I NEVER have a pain-free day.  Hell, I don't even remember what that feels like.  My normal pain-level day is 3 and up (10 being dying (literally).  I was forced to come up with a scale after being asked a million times at the E.R.

My pain is up and rising.  I go to bed at a 5 (already medicated) and wake-up at a 7, which my meds will hopefully bring down to a 5.

The pain is all-consuming.  And my favorite high-level pain remedy is backordered (yup, med companies sometimes provide one sector with too many of a product, leaving pharmacies out on a limb. 
And I feel for my pharmacist every time he has to tell me that one of my pain meds is backordered, since he knows that I only request certain pain meds when my regular medicinal pain regime is not keeping up with the pain.  He sees the begging-for-relief in my eyes.  Just two days ago I was lying on his floor (yes, on the pharmacy floor).  My body had momentarily given up functioning properly (well, MY Dysautonomic "properly"). 

So I wait.  And wait some more. Trying not to lose my mind.  If it rises anymore, I will have to contact my doctor.  and for those not acquainted with the prescription-pain-relief phobia in America, be grateful, cause it probably means that you and yours are physically well and healthy.
Big Corporation and Big Government, please stop your paranoia.  Statistics show that only a small number of patients abuse/misuse/overuse their narcotic pain meds.  I am not on a narcotic pain med (which would be the best so that I wouldn't have to take FIVE non-narcotic (but strong!) pain meds instead of ONE! narcotic.

One of my favorite lines that an advisor spoke to Queen Elizabeth I during a difficult decision-making time for the Queen:

"A prince should be careful to not be afraid of his own shadow."

Sunday, June 02, 2013

Turkey Protests: Third Day of Anti-Government Unrest

Come on!  You gotta be kidding me.  At what point do cops forget that they too are citizens?  It's not as if they are paid millions of dollars to do their "job" (if you call knocking muthafuckas out with batons a job).

I am sorry to inform the future generation that each day since 2013 started, the majority of human activity has lead to a more rapid decline in the "love-thy-neighbor-as-you-love-yourself" territory.

We have no choice but to coexist; in the end, the truth of that will not have changed, no matter how many muthafucking "neighbors" you have bashed over the head with bats.  Dumb asses.