MissNikkiAnn Is Adamant (contains explicit language)

An Ongoing Project: MissNikkiAnn Salutes Women 100.0

MissNikkiAnn Salutes Women 100.0

"We are one with Mother Earth. We are beauty. We are the nurturer. We are. We shall forever remain. No matter how man destroys the mother, she will survive and will one day regain the respect she lost."
~MissNikkiAnn

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Meet the Bronies!!!

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-24939873

I Needed This Reminder...

"Forgive them for they know not what they do" (and neither do I).

~Jesus

The War on Growing Up: Whistle Bullies?

MissNikkiAnn's Live Spreecast:

The War on Growing Up: Whistle Bullies?

Aired: Sunday, September 1, 2013 at 11:39am EDT

I Find You Guilty of Peeing, Pooping and Sleeping

i think it absolutely absurd how much i think i can do in one day

the demands are high

the actual accomplishments, typical

and on a typical day, i won't even put into action 1% of my brainstorms/brain farts

i will probably only attend to my basic needs: eat, drink, pee, poop, sleep

there will be moments in the day where i will believe that

eating,

drinking,

peeing,

pooping

and sleeping

are not big enough accomplishments for my theoretical superhuman abilities

but my accomplishing those not big enough things makes me a winner at being human

at odd times, i am a recipient of life's and mother nature's serendipitous--seemingly magical and miraculous--moments, most of which won't even register with my tiny brain cells because i will be appropriately and understandably occupied with

eating,
drinking,
peeing,
pooping
and sleeping.

but that one serendipitous moment (or, finally, one brainstorm) that is made manifest will make me feel as if i, indeed, had been living as a superhuman all along

and that glimpse of magic will almost instantly, and surely innately, be pushed aside by my dire need to take a poop, a pee and a nap--waking later to feel hungry and thirsty

and then eventually (and again), hungering and thirsting for my once momentarily vivid superhuman abilities

~MissNikkiAnn
"Be good.  Be patient.  Be around-the-clock tending to your body's needs."

We Don't Know We Should Be Bored

At times we just do not know what we are doing.  We're working with a tainted and cloudy picture of what we believe any given situation to be.  I always hope that I sleep soundly.  Sound sleep is the one place where none of it matters.  Sleep can be rejuvenating.  Lack of sleep can make life difficult and burdensome.

And the clock.  The clock keeps ticking.  And the time and date are everywhere.  No matter the time of year, I always view the calendar days, weeks and months as "flying by."

But it is bedtime now--way past my bedtime.  I have done all that I will do for now.  After some sleep, maybe I can convince myself (and encourage those who are low in spirit) that life is going to work itself out. That no matter how weighted I feel with the days events, I will probably live to see another average human day--eventful or not.

And I hope for boredom.  Some simple boring summer days where I can finally say that old saying:

No...not fuck you! 

Though that phrase can be cathartic,

I am speaking of that childhood moment when kids adamantly insist...

"Ma!  I am soooooo bored.  There's nothing to do."

And if you're a girl...

"Boys get to do EVERYTHING!"

(And it was true. And my mother did not argue with that part.)

~MissNikkiAnn

"May your summer bring rejuvenatingly boring moments." 

*MissNikkiAnn throws pixie dust into the air, hoping it will touch and unburden many, even herself.

Disclaimer: MissNikkiAnn Is Humanly (not humanely) Conditioned?

"Mos"t "Def"initely A Dysautonomic Force Feed?

Just want to advocate for all of my fellow Dysautonomics who know all too well how J-tube (jejunostomy tube) feeding/testing feels.  I have had a few tests via j-tube, while I was fully awake.  I also have many Dysautonomia friends who receive all of their nutrition via J-tube.  And even more, I have young friends who know how to put in and take out their own tubes (not that difficult really).

What does this have to do with Mos Def and the Guantanamo Bay video?  The procedure in and of itself is not painful.  On the other hand, if you are an inmate who's been refusing oral eating, and you're chained to a chair--possibly thrashing about--this procedure/torture could be the hell you never dreamed of.

Now, what is MissNikkiAnn's overall objective (since it's no disrespect to the art that went into that compelling video), I want my curious readers to know that J-tubes are a regular thing for us Dysautonomics--just like accessing our own ports and administering our own infusions at home.  So take that information and imagine all of the other things that you don't about our lives with Dysautonomia.  If you see me in a store with my walker, that in no way means that I am okay.  The things that I have to do at home and at hospitals and doctor appointments will go unseen.  The best thing to do is to assume that you can never grasp it until you (or someone close to you) is going through it.

Last year I was informed that I will probably eventually need J-tube feeding.  And having had the J-tube procedure done many times for testing reasons, when my time comes, I will learn how to place and remove my J-tube, as I learned how to access my own port.

Funny how art can be interpreted--when I saw the video, I thought nothing of the inmates.  My thoughts were on how strong and amazing my J-tube friends are.  They shed no tears when showing us by video how they insert and remove their tubing.  That J-tube is saving their lives, as they are no longer able to take in nutrition by mouth.

That last thought reminds me of something God said to Neale Donald Walsch in Neale's Conversation with God book.  God told Neale to live.  God did not mean for him to go out there and live life to its fullest, he REALLY and literally meant for humankind to stop thinking that it takes death in order to live.

Sounds confusing, right?  It is so much easier to die than it is to live through human suffering, suffering that is a big and necessary component of the human existence.  We did not come here to live simple and uncomplicated lives (at least, not this time around).  We are here NOW in order to experience exactly what we are experiencing NOW.

Live.  Choose to breath and live.  Choose to endure all of the horrors until you find your way out of them.  And if you never find your way out of them, choose to allow that to be your wisdom, the kind of wisdom that most people will never experience.  Live.  Live through needles and infusions.  Live through feeding tubes and catheters and electronic implants that keep your heart and bladder and colon functioning until they no longer can.  Live to see artists like Mos Def utilize their talents for the cause of others.  Live to have empathy for war prisoners and the family that cares about them.

Live.  Live.  Live.  Even if you have to live from a bed, as my dysautonomic friends and I have to.  Because no matter what, the end WILL come.  You don't have to force it.  The reaper will pay us all a visit.  And just because I am ill, it does not mean that you will outlive me.  So live.  Live.  And live.

For those who are curious about the Mos Def and Guantanamo Bay references, here's the Mos Def video (and my thoughts are with all men--worldwide--who find themselves in prisons, enduring and trying to live):

I Have Some Bad News

Democracy is not equivalent to perfection.
~MissNikkiAnn

Quotable: "You Can Touch My Hair But You Cain't Touch My Hair Scarf" by MissNikkiAnn

And I mean that shit.

~MNA

BE-ing Grounded

See the trend but do not panic.  

I repeat:

Do Not Panic.

You have more time than they say you have.

News machines are contagious.

Research.

Research the contagion.

Be sure that the contagious contagion is worth the drama.

You have time to window shop.

Most of your life is--and will be--spent waiting.

Just because something is repeated and hammered to death every minute and every second of our waking day does not mean the medium is magically moving any faster. 

It is perfectly safe to consume less frequently--or even abandon the vehicle.

Don't forget to tuck, drop and roll.

Time.

You do have it.

Time.

It is not lost.

Time.

It is not wasted.

But sanity...

Drink it up before the expiration date.

OR

Drink it after the expiration date.

~MNA

Quotable Snippet: We're Not Brilliant

MissNikkiAnn's Spreecast 06292013... "I'm Black: But The System Worked For Me"

Sharing My Opinions on Opinion

I don't have to "want" to share my opinions.  My opinions "are" tainted.  And what happens if I have changed my opinion after airing my opinion?

Bits and pieces.

Soundbites.

Contagious words spoken prior to experiencing more wisdom.

Contagion.

Courageous.

Being courageous enough to keep your conditioned opinions to yourself.

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...

A Story: Epipen and Nasty Nan

found myself alone with an amazing from scratch spaghetti with meat sauce by one of my favorite family-owned restaurants.  this is new england, so great italian food is not hard to come by (and i ain't talking processed olive garden shit).  this was my second day with the same dish.  the day before the outside and inside of my mouth began to set on fire from the onions.  but i wanted it so bad that i kept going.

i am highly allergic to onions, scallions and garlic.  highly.

i am also prone to being an idiot.

but how can one live in a highly italian populated area and not eat onions and garlic?  it is near impossible.

a little over a year ago i had to epipen myself after coming into contact with onions.  let me be clear: i did not even consume the onions, mom was cooking with them on the OTHER SIDE of the house.  my throat began to close up...what a horror

now here we are.  a little over a year later.  i HAD been diligent about even being near onions/scallions/garlic.

this time, not only did my mouth and esophagus get set on fire but my entire body felt as if it were being cremated.

then my throat began to close up.

i panicked.

grabbed 2 benadryls.

and refused to epipen (i have heart issues and the epipen's epinephrine causes my heart too many issues).

but...it kept closing.

i panicked even more.

tried to find the epipen in my purse.  couldn't.

dialed my mom while the 8-year-old watched me in horror as i flung all the shit from my purse onto the floor.

found it.

stabbed myself with it.

cried like an idiot who had forgotten that she'd CHOSEN to put her body at risk.

popped another benadryl and then some clonazepam, propanolol and emergency inhaler.  yelled at the 8-year-old to rub liquid benadryl on my raw back.

waited and sat in front of a fan to cool my burning body down.

time passed.

i survived...

and noted that Nasty Nancy (nickname i gave to our new pet dwarf hamster whose real name is Ala Luv Cake) slept through the entire episode--my screaming, crying and everything.

then the 8-year-old gave me a lecture.

then mom gave me a lecture.

i did not give myself a lecture.

later that night, i gave Nasty Nan (short for her Nasty Nancy nickname (yes, i am an idiot)) a lecture about not having my back and sleeping through my hellish episode.

Nasty Nan looked at me.  sniffed the finger that i was pointing at her cage.  and did what Nasty Nan does: got in her wheel (which she truly thinks is her bathroom) and shat and pissed in it while running to nowhere.

enough.

wait...did i mention that i think Katt Williams is a genius?

i know some of you will have to google that name.

Freestyle Ramblings: I Could Almost Cry

Finding my way out of a hole.  Crazy rabbit hole.  A rabbit hole that seems to be turning into a circular mess.  Sometimes you have to let life be a mess.  No....didn't like the sound of that, or the false-hood of it.  Life is a chaotic mess.  Our world is.  Space is.  Organized chaos?  Coming together for a mashup of some amazing moments.  Mashup.  Circular mashup.  Love it.  Then hate it.  Be afraid of it.  Or go with it.  Really one has to go with it.  The only other combination would be going with it while utterly afraid of it.  Laws prevent too many other options.  Chaotic Laws.  My being as a lawful body.  Humans as a lawless set.  Mother Earth as an enabler.

April 2012

MNA Speaks: From Lent to Easter

Was just thinking on how...

We are never satisfied.