I Give You Permission
I am experiencing intense migraines again. I am scheduled to meet with a neurologist in late April; it is not easy to find a neurologist in the Cleveland area, despite the fine medical centers we have in this city. Neurology seems to be a practice that few medical students enter into and therefore finding someone who treats migraines is not easy. My original neurologist, Dr. Michael Devereaux was one of the best; he understood my history and worked to control my attacks. However, he is no longer in private practice.
I have been somewhat lucky to have had medication such as Imitrex to help control these vicious episodes. However, either my body is now immune to the medication or the chemistry of the drug(s) have been changed. I try not to give in to the pain and the symptoms that come with this malady. However, sometimes I just have to lay down and let the world pass me by while I breathe in and out and allow the pain to subside to a manageable 8 out of 10 or a 7 out of 10 if I am lucky.
I am good at giving advice and suggesting that others take the time to care for themselves. However, I am not good at following the same path. So, I give all of you permission to remind me to take the time I need to remain well and to live life!
Good Morning WORLD!
After ten days of battling with a migraine, two visits to the ER for IV medication (#2 was last night,) I slept through the night and awoke this morning I am feeling my normal. For forty plus years I have chronic head
ache pain identified as migraine. The gnawing ache is always present, but I have learned to accept it and adjust to it. I have tried almost every medication, as well as dietary changes, modalities, etc., but not one medical practitioner has been able to provide me with a pain-free head. I have had MRI’s and CT Scans, including a CT Scan last night (negative!). So, I begin today as my normal and I refuse to think about a rebound or the next one that gets me down. Just an FYI the last time I went to the ER before this week for migraine is almost 20 years. Imitrex has been my pal, and I have been prescribed it as needed. Getting an appointment with a neurologist in Northeast Ohio is near to impossible. There are too few who practice this specialty, and it can take months to get a first appointment or a follow-up. On the bright side, I have one scheduled for the end of April.
I want to thank everyone who has reached out and share their remedies of choice, and I will try those 
that make sense to me such as dietary changes once again and returning to the gym as early as next week. I already take vitamins such as Magenisum and B12 as well as Riboflavin. What I must return to for my own sanity is taking the moments to breathe. I must also stop and smell the roses, as well as, the other fragrances of life.
Obstacles are just another fork in the road we run into daily, and we must choose which path to follow.
Well, today I am making the choice to take a step forward, join me.
Remembering Baube Ida and Mr. Ed
60 years ago my Baube, Ida Olshansky Friedman, passed away, I was just nine years old. Just days before I was in the car, my mom was taking Baube and Zayde on errands, and when we dropped them off at their apartment at Blackstone Manor, Baube promised they would see me for my birthday on March 4th. However, I never saw Baube again. She suffered a massive stroke the day before my 9th birthday and passed on March 9th, 1959. Tonight according to Jewish tradition is her Yarzheit, I will light a memorial candle that will shine for 24 hours to remember her. (The Yarzheit date is based on the Jewish date of passing.)
March 9th has another solemn significance as well, my father-in-law very much a father to me, passed away in 1987. Edwin Peter Hale hung on through my birthday barely able to wish me a Happy Day, but in his humorous way congratulated me on my 39th year, two years early. I will be 39 forever, thank you, dear Mr. Ed.
The loss may stay with us forever. However, it is time that allows us to look back and appreciate the love and special moments we were able to spend with one another. As a young child, I spent many days with my Baube and Zayde. I use to call them my old fashion grandparents as they never learned how to drive a car, and they share stories of the old country, Russia. My zayde read the Yiddish paper (in Yiddish) and sprinkled Yiddish into his English conversations. My Baube always appeared more American at least in my company she spoke only English. She was a short, plump lady who could give you that soft loving hug even from across the room (or in your memories.) She was a cook, a baker, but not a candlestick maker. I loved her (and still do) despite our short time together.
My father-in-law was only in my life for a short time. He also taught me love and share big bear hugs along with words of wisdom that he learned in the school of hard knocks. Edwin was a gentle giant, and I am so blessed to call him father!
So today I remember life as it was 60 years ago and also 32 years ago and I hold their memories close to my heart and share with you that they were two special people who guided me on my path to today.
Time does heal sadness and loss; it doesn’t take it away it provides us a way to hold it near and dear with fewer tears and more smiles as we see the shadows that provide us strength.
Join the House Concert with Jon Mosey
Have you ever attended a House Concert? House Concerts are very popular in the northeast region of the USA. Often it is an intimate setting in a home (often much larger than our condo) where you the host/hostess invite a talented performer into your home to entertain. As the hosting home, you may provide simple refreshments well charging a reasonable ticket price to attend your event; the performer must be paid. Your guests can be part of this wonderful unique performance, up close and comfortable.
Newclevelandradio.net is working to bring this entertainment format to you, and this Sunday Night we are hosting a small House Concert, and we still have tickets available. We are featuring local musician Jon Mosey (just Google his name and a list of sites will provide you not only information but YouTube videos to experience his talent.)
Tickets are $10 a single and $17 for two. If interested, please email newclevelandradio@gmail.com, and we will provide a PayPal link or additional options to make payment- as well as provide you with the home address.
The concert is scheduled for 6 pm this Sunday, March 10th, 2019. For those of you who remember to spring forward, I can guarantee the tunes of Jon Mosey will put a SPRING in your STEP!
Please join us and consider hosting a musician in your home!
Thank you Charlie for being K-Adrian-Zonneville
American Stories, a great novel set in real life situations and reminding us to take the time to live. Too many of us, myself included, are in such a hurry to get something done and move on to the next something that we don’t notice our thoughts. Our thoughts drive us to action even when that action is standing still in time. Although we may stand still time doesn’t and that is our excuse that immerses us in technology and the social media that we often mistake as life.
Charlie Wiener, thank you for being the proficient storyteller, gathering up the thoughts that run through our minds that we too often ignore
or maybe are too intimidated to express. If we speak of pain, dying, or emotional distress it is not uncommon for the ears to hear something other than the clear words we are attempting to express. However, Kim, your character in American Stories not only hears but speaks in volumes as an observer and patron of life. It may have taken her most of her life and a terminal diagnosis to become INTENTIONAL in each step forward she took until the moment of her demise.
Everyone will die, and that is a terminal diagnosis we all receive from the moment of conception. Some of us learn to live with intention leaving our spirit behind for others to experience.
Must Reads
https://www.amazon.com/American-Stories-K-Adrian-Zonneville/dp/1370499000
https://www.amazon.com/Carrie-Come-Smiling-Adrian-Zonneville/dp/1730753582
and the newest:
https://www.amazon.com/Great-Things-Novel-Mr-Zonneville
EVERY SUNDAY is a New DAY and YOUR BIRTHDAY
It is Sunday, for many considered a day of rest that may consist of sleeping late into the late morning or early afternoon hours. Years ago, Sunday was my lazy day, waking up to a new week, brunching or lunching with my husband, running errands in joyous harmony to GOLD CIRCLE™, prior to the TARGET™, days. We always found a bargain or two while picking up the essentials like toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap as well other fine household items we didn’t need. As we sauntered through the aisles we knew at the end of this weekly journey we would take our stash home and realize we forgot the most important item of the week, but we never identified what that item was!
Remember Yesterday – Live for Today
Those were the days when we first bought the Sunday newspaper, The Plain Dealer™, and cut out the coupons and checked out what was on sale before we stepped inside the doors of our Sunday retreat. The newspaper was more golden than the GOLD CIRCLE™. The Sunday edition was packed full of fun stuff like the comics in living color, and Parade Magazine™ that was sure to have a story of fun-filled information for reading, not scanning. That paper went to breakfast with us, and we staled out our time as did many weeding through the paper from the front page headlines to the comics, magazines, ads, and flyers. Great articles appeared in The Plain Dealer™, Jane Scott, Michael Heaton, Connie Schultz, Terry Pluto, and my friend Chuck Yarborough, just to name a few.
“Sunday, Sunday here again in tidy attire
You read the color supplement, the TV guide”
Today, Sunday is just another day, working; as most of us have more than one job in today’s economic debacle. I feel blessed as I am about to reach the big 69 tomorrow that I am able and capable to be on my feet supporting sales and earning a few extra dollars. I do this because I have learned through my upbringing that we must continue to venture through life and not only adapt to changes but to change for the betterment without bitterness. I may have been raised in the 50s and 60s with the voice of encouragement telling me that if I worked hard, I too would have a suburban home, two cars in the garage and much more than just a chicken in the pot. However, to maintain all that I was encouraged to work hard for comes with a price.
Appreciating Yourself so Others will Too!
I could complain that as I reach this pinnacle in life that I am still scratching and clawing to build a better lifestyle (not necessarily all financial), that will allow me to live fully. That lifestyle includes working on Saturday and Sunday and meeting new people and supporting their wants and needs providing guidance. My weekend gig is much like my weekday life with newclevelandradio.net, I work with various individuals, and I am their guide and support in sharing their message, compassion, and life providing us all options on which fork in the road will lead us to Sunday, the first day of the week.
Treat Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday
As the Days to Love Yourself and Wish Yourself
A Happy Birthday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME
Tomorrow
March 4th
What # is Your Pain Level?
Try describing the sensation of pain! Too often we are asked the most mundane question is why are you feeling pain? Did you hurt yourself, or did someone hurt you? Is it dull, throbbing, achy, or sharp? Exactly, show the spot where your discomfort is!
Sometimes these questions can be answered easily. Most of the time whether it is a medical advisor, friend, or family member, the response to distress becomes more quizzical.
As a migraine sufferer for almost 50 years, I have been denied my feelings. I am unlike the traditional migraine individual in that I fight through my (almost daily) episodes. In my early years these attacks took me down, but my initial reaction was to always fight through it. It was like a war going on in my head, and all I wanted to do was forge through the hell hole of symptoms and find a soft light to guide me and soothe my pounding head. I learned that if you don’t look ill (whatever that means) people are skeptical and too often assume you are either a hypochondriac or just making excuses to get out of something.
The migraine headache can take on various forms, and the diagnosis becomes even more difficult when women are considered hypochondriacs when they are experiencing them. I experienced first hand over the years I have been served a cocktail of medications that rendered me a zombie, or sent home and prescribed to relax! Let me be the first to tell you it is near to impossible to relax, to think about a beautiful warm, sunny, sandy beach when the pounding and flashing in your brain is screaming, “PAIN SIGNALS,” throughout your physical and emotional body.
I have been seen by many physicians that have run SCANs, MRIs, as well as vestibular tests to identify what is happening in my internal housing. My medical team over the years has consisted of neurologists, psychologists, psychiatrist, physical therapist, gynecology (I am woman hear me roar,) as well as chiropractic. My diagnosis is stated as unexplained mixed headaches with an emphasis on migraine.
Yesterday, March 1st, the first day of the meteorological day of Spring, I had the culmination of a week of pain. Each day got worse with periods of relief, but on Friday the black cloud, flashing lights and agonizing take over of my body grew minute by minute. Medication was not touching the source, and I knew to succumb to it and laying down would not reduce it, and I had things to do. My day consisted of remaining upbeat for two podcasts as well as follow through on other business related items. I muddled through my day including some housekeeping chores, making serving as well as clean up for dinner. Even after dinner I completed one last home assignment (I make the assignments) and finally curled myself into a fetal position hoping to fall asleep.
Most of the night I slept fitfully waking every 20 to 30 minutes. Upon each awakening, I noticed I was getting little if any relief. Instead of relaxing with each deep breath I worried about the what if’s of my sense of debilitation. When 5 a.m. came upon me, I realized I was feeling more like me. I was wide awake with little no reference to the last 24 plus hours. I almost had to pinch myself to feel some painful discomfort to reassure myself this was not a dream or that I had died and gone to heaven!
This is my life! I have learned to accept what I have the ability to change and to attempt to change what I am told I have no control over. Because we never know what we are capable of and without taking a step in a positive direction we may not find where our strengths lay.
Today is a new day!
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun , here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
It’s all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right
It’s all right
Happy 24 3/4 Birthdays MOMMA
Another birthday without my mother, D’VASHA, is upon us as she is not here on earth to celebrate. Being a Leap Year Baby, my mother would be celebrating 24 ¾ years-old or in reality 99! My mother had a dream to live to be 100 years-old as she wanted to be recognized by the POTUS; although she would not want it to be our current President (and I use that term lightly.)
My mother was the first generation born in the United States after her parents immigrated from the hell hole of the POGROM life in Russia. As the story goes my Baube and Zayde, and various family members ran and hid on several occasions when the Cossacks barged into their Sheitels killing whoever was not fast enough or strong enough to get out of their path. My mother’s father, my Zayde Friedman, came to the United States by ship riding steerage among hundreds of other looking for a better life. In the early 1900’s you had to be sponsored to come to America, and he was through cousins who came here before him. When Zayde came to America, he left behind my Baube Ida and their first born, my Aunt Jean. He first settled in Boston, Massachusetts and after a short time moved on to Detroit, Michigan where additional relatives helped him establish a life and a career as a tailor. Once he had enough money saved up, he traveled back to Russia to bring his family home to America. What he found upon his return was a deserted village, and in time he reunited with his wife Ida and daughter Jean, and a second daughter Ann. Zayde did not know his beloved Ida was with child when he came to America to prepare a home, can you say surprise? (Within years they became citizens of the United States.)
It would be many years later on February 29, 1920, that my mother was born she was one of seven children of which only five lived into adulthood, my mother the last one of her family living until October 11, 2016.
I was born on March 4, 1950, and although I would not be a Leap Year Baby, my momma was determined that our birthdays would be shared. For the majority of my life, we shared one birthday cake, and I became a year older several days before my official birth date. In recent years I would manage to get up to Detroit to spend our birthday together whether it was a party for her special day, on her 75th, 90th, and 95th imparticular. At her 95th birthday, my mom gave a little speech, and she reminded us, her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren as well as nieces and nephews that she was in charge because she had earned the right at 95-years-old! It was on that day she proclaimed she would live to be 100 so she could receive a proclamation from the sitting president, who would have thought?
My mother was in excellent health, who would have thought she wouldn’t live to be 100 years old? And who would have thought that our government would be in such dismal shape as we approach the year, 2020? My mother was a work of art; she was a kind caring individual; she would think about others before herself, and yet she was not perfect. If my mother liked you (loved you), you would know it, and she liked most people. However, if she didn’t like you because you scorned her or her family, she was unforgiving. She truly was a Grizzly Bear when she felt it was necessary.
My mother and I had a very tough but loving relationship. Most of my life I felt like a disappointment to her, and because of that I often misread her words and actions. However, I was lucky to learn that I was liked and loved by my momma, we shared her last weeks together expressing our thoughts while the elephant sat in the room and we never mentioned the words that identified death and dying. For me, there was no need because I knew that my mother would live on in me, my brothers, my children and theirs. We hold the DNA that provides me the opportunity to hear her voice, see her smile, and even her look of dismay that makes me sit up straight and think, how would momma like me to be today?
So today she would be 99 and a year from now that milestone 100. This morning before Alex left for work he said; we need to celebrate her life next year. She was our matriarch. She nursed my dad through years of ill health bouts and never once complained or uttered a disparaging word even when it meant turning their life upside down. My mother was empowered (and she may not have known it) but it is her strength that has provided me with the capacity to seek life and commemorate the lives of others.
Just a side note, I have learned that our current POTUS does not indulge in sending out the 100-year birthday proclamations. I guess he is too busy trying to build a wall.
House Concert March 10 6 pm
House Concert – this is your opportunity to be up close and personal with a professional musician, hosted in the comfort of a home setting with snacks to enrich your appetite. Newclevelandradio.net is hosting the first of what we hope will be many concerts. However, there is a cost, the performer must be paid!
On March 10th at 6 pm, newclevelandradio.net is hosting Jon Mosey however unless we sell 10 more seats, we will have to cancel the performance. Please do not miss out as Jon is a local professional musician bringing his talent and compassion of music to our home.
Inbox me (Karen Hale) to purchase tickets payment via Paypal or Check.
https://www.facebook.com/Jon-Mosey
Happiness IS
Believe in happiness. Life is a gift and what we do with each second is our choice. We must remember that in order to live in a cohesive environment we must respect others as well as ourselves. There is no complete solitude in the cosmos; we are uniquely engaging with life forms of various geniuses that we must be aware of and accommodate for the differences that can only make us stronger in our achievement of happiness.
Happiness is not just a mood with a smiling face, emoji. It is a state of mind that we allow ourselves to experience and share. It cannot be described as perfect or not; it is more like a choice to achieve satisfaction even on a grey and gloomy day. It is important to understand that we cannot depend on anyone or anything to provide joyfulness. We are the bearers of our own choices, and the results are defined by the path we take.
There is no right or wrong when we choose to live and achieve the best for ourselves while lighting the way for others to observe and follow if they wish. However, our path is not the only one that will lead forward; there are many forks in the road.
Which one will you travel?
D5 Creation