Come in second

Speaking of running....

By the time high school rolled around the teachers saw me run the mile in gym and recruited me for the cross-country team.

see the ribbon in my hair? Yeah, I was still a wild mustang, but people could get close now and brush my scraggly mane.

I was still running just to run.

highest finishing was 7th. usually, I placed in the teens. I was a good solid team member.

My senior year the next to the last race the coach came to me and said "I need you to come in second"

I nodded and buried my face in my letterman's jacket and tried to disappear.

That afternoon I came in second.

As I crossed the finish line, I saw a WHAT-THE-HELL look on coach's face.

Later I learned he meant second for the team.... not the whole race. bwhahahahaha.

Yup all they had to do for years was tell me where to be and I'd be there.

I was just running because it was fun.

...and I would sell my soul for one last run....sigh.

SWOOSH!!!

 In seventh grade I was invisible. Those who saw me were few. Those who knew me, were none.

I was not friendly. I was an island unto my self. I found a t-shirt at goodwill that read. 

Warning: I'm naked under my cloths

and that somehow seemed appropriate for me. I wore it a lot. 

Most people left me alone. 

Those who didn't wish they did.

We had free gym that particular day. Most of the class sat on the benches talking, a few of us were shooting hoops.

The teacher Mrs. Loomis called to those of out on the court with her whistle and motioned us to come in.

The other girls obediently followed and headed in. 

I paused and finally had the court to my self. I had been standing center court dribbling away from everyone else.

We locked eyes and she again motioned to come in.

I turned and sent the basketball flying towards the basket. Her eyes followed it's silent arch through the air.... through the hoop, nothing but net.

 swoosh

Her gaze returned to me. With a why-the-hell-aren't-you-on-my-basketball-team look on her face.

I bobbed my head like the wild mustang I was, my bangs flopping over my eyes as I galloped past her into the locker room.

If she ever tried to talk to me I was simply too shy, too damaged to respond.

I saw that same look again after the timed cross country run we did.

As I said I was a mustang. A free range shaggy haired untamable beast. 

She said go and off I went leaving everyone in my dust. I didn't run for time or place. I ran just to run.

And I ran fast as  f%^& boi. LOL.

I crossed the finish line and she wasn't there with her stopwatch.  As I cooled down and restlessly moved about wondering what to do. The anxiety started chewing on me.

Had I misunderstood where the finish line was? Was I in last place? Was I going to get into trouble?AAuugghh!!!  should I do another lap of the course? 

About that time Mrs. Loomis came out the door with her grade book under her arm and sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup, with the stopwatch dangling from her wrist.

She stopped dead and that basketball look came over her shocked face. "What are you doing here? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE!?"

She set her coffee and grade book down and fumble to get the stopwatch and see the time.

She gave me a why-the-hell-aren't-you-on-my-track-team look...but by them others were coming across the finish line, and I had once again turned invisible and vanished into the crowd. 

Years and years later like TWENTY THREE or more later as I was working I saw her come in and she walked up to the desk and said "Hello Paja. How are you doing?"

Still shy, still a lunatic, still an untamed mustang. I nodded my head and replied "I'm good."

And like the basketball those years ago I turned and was gone with a swwooosh.

Why my humor has gotten me in trouble so much.

 My sense of humor is ......odd.

I've gotten my self in so much trouble over the years because of it.

heh.

And that is just what I can confess too bawaaahahahahaha.

One such tale I can retell happened in the front yard the summer of  1975.  I was 9 and a free range lunatic. 

Remember these?

Our mother forbade us from eating them due to hearing rumors that they pulled out children's teeth.

Urban legend, tall tale, the truth? I have never known.

My older brother would get them from B-Street market and then consume them in front of us younger kids. He wouldn't share. He, after all was 11. The 11 was so new the smoke from his candles was still wafting in the air.

Occasionally he would bribe us with licks so we wouldn't nark on him to Mama.

It wasn't long before I hatched a plan that had me giggling every time I thought about it. My idea just taunted my funny bone to no end. 

It was so feindishly simple.

I raided the jar of baby teeth and got three molars out of it. 

Waited until I got my hands on his astro pop and while his attention drifted...applied all three in a nice little pattern and stuck the pop back in my mouth.

When I was ready and got his attention. I groaned/ouched and put my hand to my mouth and pulled out the astro pop and stared in surprised pain/horror at it.

It didn't go as planned.

Instead of laughing, he turned the most ghastly shade of white and his jaw dropped. He instantly glanced to the house to made sure Mama wasn't watching and then very concernedly put his arm around me to comfort me. I'm sure he was frantically trying to come up with a plausible story to get him out of this pickle.

"Nah I'm just kiddin' see?" I opened my mouth and pulled back my cheek. Then laughed.

He didn't find it all funny and I never got licks of his astro pops again.

That taught me that if I get an idea that is laughing-my-butt-off-funny I need to run it by someone older/more mature. To keep my self out of trouble/jail.

Pity Party 2026

 (I'm alright just a pity party)

DUDE.

I am so fucking done with my body. In the horse world there's a term called road hard and put away wet. And that's exactly what I have done to myself.

In order to function the last couple years I've used prednisone.
To the point where I've killed my adrenal glands LOL, and I'll never get off of it.

My thyroid's been radiated and I have to take a replacement forever which is never fully compensated for the natural hormone.
And because of my hyperthyroidism, my cholesterol runs high like in the 500 highs. It also causes my blood sugars to run high.

Fully diagnosed with diabetes now. Metformin and weak muscles from polymyositis DO NOT MIX.
So I'll be coming off of that.

I find it funny as heck that my early life I spent trying to stop my brain from killing me. LoL. And now the rest of me is trying to kill me too.

This body and I have been at war forever. And now I have even more ways I can kill myself. Like slowly if I take myself off my thyroid medicine. Or fast if I stop taking my prednisone.

When I went to go take my Cimzia shot that treats the rheumatoid arthritis. I told them that I feel like I was dying.
And as usual they ran labs they're all fine.... Because my body effing hates me. My CBG was high, and the usual flags for inflammation.

So I put myself back on the metformin I'm supposed to be on but I don't take because it makes my muscles weaker, and let me tell you this incredibly hard to get this old cranky body to do anything anymore... So I really, really didn't want to do that.
Not to mention metformin makes me, I don't know... dumb? Like I feel it sucks away 50 IQ points.

I'm just ready to be done. Like a wrap up everything and just go to bed and pull the covers over my head.
I really don't have anything more to add to this planet. I have lived an incredibly interesting life for someone as dull and boring as I am. My children are grown. I stay for my incredibly loving and kind husband. And for my children.

But sometimes that's just not enough. The living doesn't outweigh the pain.

I'm a broken racehorse three quarters away around the track with my leg shattered. Standing there heaving trying to catch my breath as the bones crunch and splinter turning my leg into mush. Blood dripping from my nostril mixing with the sweat and foam.

I know my work career is literally one...one ...one twist away from putting my back out completely.

I can't retire until I'm 62.

That's one year and 4 months.

That's a really really long time, to hold your breath.

To balance on one foot...

to run away from the monsters on pulverized muscles that can't even walk up the stairs.

Hobbling away?

Dear Dr. Namechangedforprivacy,

I'm now sixty.


I can no longer run but I can hobble along pretty fast for an old fat woman with multiple orthopedic injuries.


The wheelchair hasn't caught me yet. But I now own one because I know we won't be having this conversation when I'm 70.


Thank you for putting my pelvis back together, and taking the time to talk to me. Had I been a normal person and not a Vichi I would have been in a chair when I was 50.


I'm going to need to buy some restraints, because I know even when I'm in a chair they're going to have to tie me to keep me there.


Love, 

Paja

https://gettingthebucksout.blogspot.com/.../walking-away...

By Fives ....circa 2025

By Fives

I was born on the kitchen table
tumbled down sixteen stairs
attempted suicide
and placed second in a beauty pageant
all before I turned five.


I've eaten yellow snow on a dare
snorted grape soda up my nose
melted army men on the stove
learned the secret to catching lightning
got lost in Disney Land
watched three of my brothers die
and froze my tongue to a stop sign pole
all before I turned ten.


I danced naked as snow fell in the redwoods
felt dirt shoveled down upon me
as Ro____ buried me alive
wore the jewels of the Princess of Lippy Germany
held séances in the dark
Disfigured Ri___'s face with a pickaxe
eaten fire and grazed like a cow
and completed a novel
all before I turned fifteen.


I've felt the hand of a demented man cuff me across the face
flunked English 121
discovered Halloween candy I hid when I was seven
stared deep into the emerald green eyes of a panther
her warm breath on mine
and held the hands of countless people as they have died
all before I turned twenty


I've delivered puppies in the backseat
while parked at Shop n' Kart
journeyed into the dreamtime
got lost again in Disney Land
grew hair on my neck
crushed myself in my car
kisses a hog
and hung candy canes in the forest
all before I turned twenty-five


I've danced sacred dances
with eagle feathers in my hair and doe's skin on mine
began dreaming in Japanese
taught my son the secret to catching lightning
felt the bay mare rear and flip....
caught her in my lap
and fell in love with my friend John
all before I turned thirty


I've nursed piglets
watched three friends die of brain tumors
pieced my nipple
castled kingside and opened a door to a whole new world
accepted a proposal in the park
joined the Russell clan
all before I turned thirty-five


I've switched my mind off and hibernated
got lost in cyberspace
sold my childhood on EBay
gave birth to a son who almost died
got out of debt
and then right back in
all before I turned forty


I've been kissed by a sea lion
fought with my daughter
before she even left my uterus
swallowed radiation
got lost in Norrath
got lost in my own head again.
set sail on the seas of depression
all before I turned forty-five


Threw away my novel
Started a blog
Taught the internet the secret to catching lightning
got crushed again by a car
switched from LTC to ALF
won a game of chess against a Fide Master
Got put on the right medication for my head, and
learned to play Mahjong
all before I turned fifty


Watched my son almost die again,
joined a cult on YouTube
stole the light of a thousand stars,
and fed all of it to the darkness in my mind.
developed a rare disease,
avoided Covid 19.
Became one with the Floor
and watched my daughter become a serial killer,
all before I turned fifty-five.

Watched my daughter steal my boat

and sail away into the darkness, 

Stood firm on the dock and hauled her back in.

Mama and Daddy joined my brothers in the ocean,

Became the wife of a college student, and graduate.

caught covid 19

Finally got old enough for pain medications.

survived 40 years in long term care.

Went shopping in China,

and bought mysteries and wonder for everyone.

Fulfilled an ancient promise,

Skinny's with a side of ashes...

all before I turned sixty

(c) Jan 9, 1992 - original 

(5 year updated 9-17-25)

Y2K 1999

 I can't believe I never blogged this one. 

It's probably one of my greatest practical jokes ever.

(heh..well the one that I can confess too at least.)

If I wasn't working, I always volunteered to babysit all the farm kids so their parents could have new year eves to themselves.

The year was 1999 and it was 1 minute to midnight, and we were all in the library at the farm. It was all the farm kids, and I think a few friends, I had my camcorder, and I was standing by the sliding glass doors filming the action.

We had been speculating on the BIG change and betting on if Y2K was going to crash human civilization and set us back 10,000 years.

We followed the plan set out for us by the rock and roll gods. We were partying like it was 1999...cause well it was. We were all drunk on apple cider and chips.

5

4

3

2.......

everyone held their breaths and 

1!  and I used my shoulder to turn off the light switch next to me.

Pitch blackness swallowed us all up and the kids erupted into screams.

The camcorder footage would later reveal the kids/blackness/and shaking footage of the floor from uncontrollable belling laughing as I turned the light back on.

oh yeah, Y2PajaK nearly took out all of them LOL

Guns in my head (trigger warning for suicidal thoughts)

 After not blogging in forever I'm about to hit ya with two. One fun, one not.

This one is the NOT one.

I've suffered/lived with suicidal depression my whole life.

MY. WHOLE. LIFE.

Occasionally, as my daughter struggles with her own journey with her mental health; will turn to me and with tear-filled eyes whisper. "how are still alive?"

Long, long story sweet child.

 A few things jump to the front.

(Glances down at my scarred filled arms.)

I did whatever it took to keep myself alive.

(it wasn't always pretty)

I was lucky enough to have strong souls who hung on to my life line when I let go.

(Richard, Nola and Iona)

and those fractures souls who were brave enough to swim after me as I slipped below the surface time and time again, to grab my dying body and haul me to the surface forcing my mouth open so I could breath.

(The Children of Starr)

Opened my fractured heart to love, trust another.

(my beloved husband)

Cymbalta started in my early 50's.

(zzzzzttt...brain reboot.....)

but before all that...there was the death rewards.

Rewards for death?? 

HELL YEAH!

To shut up the daily manta of my defective brain, I would say.  "Fine you bastard, you can die, when this or that happens."

they were different as the years went by. 

Childhood ones were not worth mentioning. They got serous as I got older. Perhaps the biggy was:

You may kill your self when you reach 23.

Read here to see how that turned out

Promised my therapist Richard I would stay alive till 65. Which quieted that daily pestering from my depression. I do have patience.

And when I found out he died, I was able to not squelch on that deal and change the terms of our agreement.

I have had other till death do we part contacts, involving living things.

I can't die until so and so my pet whatever dies. I don't want them to be euthanized or be rehomed etc.

All in all, it beeping worked. I stayed alive. I was enough to stop my brain from killing me.

My brain knowing that on November 14th at 10:45 am in the year 2030 it can give up that grip on life and let go....is comforting. Knowing that there is limit to the mental pain I will endure, is comforting.

So how does it work? Like this:

Depression: ugh so tired, I want to die.

me: We promised Richard we would stay alive until 65.

super depressed brain: done...so done...

Me: 65!!!

It gave me something to hold onto/counter back with.

So what brought this up?

Sometimes my choices for self-preservation have unexpected side effects. My guts just burps them up for things not that do not need them inserted.

Case in point, September 25, 2006 a little past 5 am, my daughter came into the world and as the nurse was handing her to me, her wet umbilical cord trailed against my naked body.

My damaged mind's maw wrenched open and whispered, 'now you have stay alive until she is 18'

A warping of the stay alive code by my brain in an attempt to cast a dark shadow over the experience.

and just that fast it became canon.

It gave my mind ammunition to counter with.

depression: 18

me: 65

it: 18

me:65

The ground I call out 65! from is higher and more powerful than the 18 it squeaked That fight faded off in no time.

I'm in no danger. Never have been. However, that fraction of an instant of self-sabotage my brain coughed up showed up the other night. Working nights has always been a double-edged sword I balance on. Tired, fatigued sleepless brain matter is ....gushy...my feet sink in and that line between here and there blurs.

Perfect place for my depression to whisper things to me.

your daughter is turning 18 in September...

18.

Me in my brain: "YEAH? SO WHAT!!"

18

my sleep deprived night shift brain: Do you really think I am lusting to check out over a fricking number?! Do you think I would EVER allow you to harm my children?! That I would want to inflict that pain on my loving gentle husband??! I got shit to do in this life man! shove that 18 straight up your ass!!

your physical pain would cease...

you're kidding me, right?! My 83-year-old great grandma used to get on the floor and do the Chinese splits in her polio braces. My Daddy use to haul fridges around with a broken back. I didn't miss a day of work when I got crushed in a car, or even when I broke a rib at work.

You think physical pain is any comparison to the mental pain I've endured? jeez man I eat that stinking pile of horse shift you serve up every day. My therapists have reinforced my will power with earthquake and tsunami protection.

nothing hurts my children.

NOTHING.

even me.

Suicide would do irreplicable harm to my family.

Depression: someday death will come for you.

Me: Yeah? you can expect me to rear back my polymyositis riddle leg and kick it in the teeth.

(Cymbalta joins the chat)

Cymbalta: what the flippin' blank man? I fixed the chemical imbalance and inserted sunshine and roses in your brain, where did this weed come from!

Depression: Still here ma'am, just have to wait till the sun goes down to open my flowers.

Cymbalta: looks like she just yanked you out and tossed you in the trash.

Depression: she can pick the visible weeds, but my roots run deep.

Me: maybe so depression. but I have always grabbed your roots and weaved them into a rope. Only time will tell if I plan to use to hang my self on or climb it to freedom.

For now, I use it as a lasso, I swing it hard over my head and look for the next available anchor beyond 18.

Happy Birthday husband

 You turn 49 today.

You have been in my life for 23 years.

I am so glad you were born.

I got to see you become a father.  I got to parent with you.

Best of all I got to be loved by you. Your gentle calmness tamed my wildness.

Oh the adventures you have had in this life.

And I got to come along.  Bet other women would be jealous if they knew that every time I washed dishes, you come running and "pay" me with a back rub and dishes-kisses.

 

Took me 15 years but I finally defeated you in a game of chess. Guess lessons from a Fide Master pay off.

You introduced me to bowling.

and to motherhood.

added Sunday night dinner into my life.

Lady Liberty, Oregon state champ!

You enriched my life with games I would have never played. 

As well as enriching our children's lives.

You will always be the Paladin to my druid. 

Even when you roll over me and take my cities.

Back alley bridge night.

Story of my life. Even when you spot me massive prestige, you are a formidable opponent, and I love to face off with you.

Your children inherited your love of games and adventure.

As well as your gentle kindness.

I'm so glad you're having another birthday  my love.

Thank you for all you do for our family.

New year, new rant

 GGGGGrrrr. To qualify for OHP to cover the infusion medication for my RA, I have to have failed two oral medication trials.

Well I have...methotrexate and chloroquine.

but they are denying it, because they don't like they way I failed the chloroquine (side effect of sever muscle pain, inability to STAND UP AND FUCKING WALK)

so they want me to try another medication.

really?

these meds have life threating side effects like CANCER: BLINDNESS; DEATH.

yup

and the next one to try takes 1to 2 FREAKIN YEARS, to clear your system after you stop taking it.

The prednisone is failing...I have 2 years left to work. Thats a LONG ASS time when you're in chronic pain.

AGAIN will be asking for referral to the pain management clinic, and/or a hospice evaluation. (Wich I have been asking for since my 20's and they always say I'm not old enough yet. sigh)

just mad an angry this morning. going to go watch Star Trek with hubby then bind books all day.

rant over.

hope everyone is haveng a better day.

Treasure Box

Day number five of having covid-19.

Can't type much, my arthritis is off the hook. So I Vlogged for you.

ack! trigger warning for messy crazy old woman hair...

I see as I watched it back my thoughts are all over the place. sorry LOL, dying here, covid n'all. My brain has been cooking at 101 - 103 degree temps for 5 days.

It's long, it's boring and yes you must watch it all.

 (small trigger for short SIV and suicidal thoughts mentions)

Now that you have seen the current contents of my magical treasure box.  I am wondering what my bestest older sister on the planet has in hers!

I feel a road trip coming on!!

No tears (Trigger for suicidal thoughts)

The Cymbalta has stopped my tears.

I started taking it when my head reached a peak that it was going to kill me.

Year and years ...a lifetime of my brain running from the part of itself trying to snuff me out, finally reached the end of its ability to cope.

The lurch off the track was sudden and abrupt.

The will to fight, just snapped and gave... I felt my soul yield to the pressure...

...free falling into the calming quietness of nothingness...

I felt Richard's ghostly hands reach for me...

I heard Nola and Iona's magical voices singing to me...urging me to go on...

My husband's strong hands caught me.

but

the pull of the night was now at a fatal level.

I called for help.

I, that messed up damaged child, wounded and broken.

Called for help.

The Children of Starr, reaching out in unison.

help. me. my. depression. is. going. to. kill. me.

Cymbalta: has entered the game.

and just like that.

the tears stopped.

I turned my brain off instantly.

I turned my emotions off.

Since starting it over a year ago I've cried like 3-4 times.

for no longer than 20 seconds.

That is strange to me ....who cried daily, and often having 30 minute long sob fests for most of my life.

Alive.

but

missing the full richness of the dark emotions that I swam in all my life.

the water is clear and warm now and there are no monsters hiding below.

I still look for them.

let me grab onto your raggedy top fin so you can drag me down into the creative darkness that births my writing muse....

Richard reaches for me again..."Paja it sounds like your happy."

"well, I don't like it! It feels so weird and uncomfortable. Ra, I miss crying. I miss the release of emotions and the pain."

Nola and Iona but in... "three...two...one....open the door..."

I do as I am told and walk into the day light...and back to my little family that I love so much. My family that I fight depression for. 

Stickrod saga

 I have been a bad blogger. I left ya hanging on the saga of our tree.

This video was taken in 2021.

Anyway, My Stickrod outgrew his pot. I, being a serial plant killer, decided the best bet for his survival was to rehome him. I posted a video looking for a new home for him,.

Sticky didn't take to that idea and two weeks after me posting that inquiry, and in the middle of July just turned brown and dropped all his leaves.

What the hell dude!! 

He would rather die than be rehomed to a place he could be planted and grown?!

Okay FINE! you crazy tree you can stay with us.

Fast forward to 2022.

We were hit with the devastating news that this little killer was now in Oregon.

"Emerald ash borer is an invasive species that feeds on all ash species and some closely related plants. The adult is a small metallic green beetle and the larva is a flat headed borer. Larvae feed in the cambium of ash plants and are 100% lethal for untreated ash trees."

So serious the threat is that they are collecting as many varieties as possible of Ash tree seeds. Hoping to replant the native species once tree-magedon is over.

I know understand why Sticky wanted to stay with us. It must be frightening to be on hospice and not be near your family. I decided I would follow suit and collect his seeds this spring. 

Cause I can just imagine me planting a whole army of baby sticks! The thought of re-populating the state in murderous Stickrod clones would be just too much fun.

Welp, I guess he is still mad at me for trying to rehome him, because he put out ZERO seed pods this year. ZIP, NADA, NIL. 

Okay FINE be that way sir. 

 

By Fives (2022 edition - incomplete draft to be finished in 2025)

By Fives (2022 edition - incomplete draft to be finished in 2025)

Gota jot this down while I can still remember stuff...stinking menopause, aka the killer of my writers brain.

By Fives



I was born on the kitchen table
tumbled down sixteen stairs
attempted suicide
and placed second in a beauty pageant
all before I turned five.


I've eaten yellow snow on a dare
snorted grape soda up my nose
melted army men on the stove
learned the secret to catching lightning
got lost in Disney Land
watched three of my brothers die
and froze my tongue to a stop sign pole
all before I turned ten.


I danced naked as snow fell in the redwoods
felt dirt shoveled down upon me
as Ro____ buried me alive
wore the jewels of the Princess of Lippy Germany
held séances in the dark
Disfigured Ri___'s face with a pickaxe
eaten fire and grazed like a cow
and completed a novel
all before I turned fifteen.


I've felt the hand of a demented man cuff me across the face
flunked English 121
discovered Halloween candy I hid when I was seven
stared deep into the emerald green eyes of a panther
her warm breath on mine
and held the hands of countless people as they have died
all before I turned twenty


I've delivered puppies in the backseat
while parked at Shop n' Kart
journeyed into the dreamtime
got lost again in Disney Land
grew hair on my neck
crushed myself in my car
kisses a hog
and hung candy canes in the forest
all before I turned twenty-five


I've danced sacred dances
with eagle feathers in my hair and doe's skin on mine
began dreaming in Japanese
taught my son the secret to catching lightning
felt the bay mare rear and flip....
caught her in my lap
and fell in love with my friend John
all before I turned thirty


I've nursed piglets
watched three friends die of brain tumors
pieced my nipple
castled kingside and opened a door to a whole new world
accepted a proposal in the park
joined the Russell clan
all before I turned thirty-five


I've switched my mind off and hibernated
got lost in cyberspace
sold my childhood on EBay
gave birth to a son who almost died
got out of debt
and then right back in
all before I turned forty


I've been kissed by a sea lion
fought with my daughter
before she even left my uterus
swallowed radiation
got lost in Norrath
got lost in my own head again.
set sail on the seas of depression
all before I turned forty-five


Threw away my novel
Started a blog
Taught the internet the secret to catching lightning
got crushed again by a car
switched from LTC to ALF
won a game of chess against a Fide Master
Got put on the right medication for my head, and
learned to play Mahjong
all before I turned fifty


Watched my son almost die again,
joined a cult on YouTube
stole the light of a thousand stars,
and fed all of it to the darkness in my mind.
developed a rare disease,
avoided Covid 19.
Became one with the Floor
and watched my daughter become a serial killer,
all before I turned fifty-five.

Watched my daughter steal my boat

and sail away into the darkness, 

Stood firm on the dock and hauled her back in.

Mama and Daddy joined my brothers in the ocean,

Became the wife of a college student, and graduate.

caught covid 19

Finally got old enough for pain medications.

survived 40 years in long term care.

Went shopping in China,

and bought mysteries and wonder for everyone.

Fulfilled an ancient promise,

Skinny's with a side of ashes...

all before I turned sixty

(c) Jan 9, 1992 - original

vaccine

  My Great-great grandma survived polio. She was lucky she didn't end up in an iron lung. Back then fear was rampant. No on new how it was transmitted. My mother remembers her mother carefully pealing every last sting off the banana's because they though polio could be caught from banana "strings." 

When the polio vaccine came out, it was no different than it is now. People were afraid. Very afraid. 

 But they did it. 

They did it to protect their children and everyone else's child.

My oldest memory is sitting on my mother's lap watching as thick grape syrup was poured on a sugar cube, and then popped into my mouth. I bet my mother was nervous knowing that her little one was getting live polio vaccine...having watched her grandmother live with the aftermath of polio her whole life.

But she did it.

That picture is of  me. I am 6 months old and failing to thrive. I am in a doll dress tied up in the back because back in 1966 there wasn't any clothes that fit me. That is my small pox vaccine scab there on my wee little six-month-old arm.

Last time my people and the government and small pox came up together in the same conversation it was to give infected blankets to those on the reservations to kill them.

Yeah. there was zero trust, but everyone did it anyway.

2020, locked down rolled in....and issued in a hell I hope to never have to visit again. Watching the elderly in my care mentally stew in anguish ..."My daughter doesn't come visit me anymore...is she mad at me?" breaks into sobs. 

Me unable to hug her and comfort her crying behind my mask. Night after night, turning into weeks after weeks, until it was too late and she went to her grave thinking her loving daughter abandoned her.

Watching my own child plunge into a depression as the isolation physically separated her from her mates.  Online schooling and therapy were a poor substitute.  But at least she was in a safe place. She had a home, food and an abuse free environment.  The huge decrease of reported cases of child abuse...tells me many children gained the title of survivor.

I took that covid vaccine for my residents so they could have those unreplaceable moments with their families again. I took it so my children could once again go out and get on with life. I took it for those children who NEED to get out of their houses and into school where they have a chance to report what is happening to them. 

I did it...for all of us.