Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Meaning Behind My Tattoo

Hello. My name is Cindy Brown and I have a tattoo. You can judge me if you want to, but I'm the President of something, so there's that.

It's true. I'm the President of the local Toastmasters club and I love it and I love my members. It's a public speaking and leadership club, in case you weren't aware. I will talk about my Toastmasters experiences another day, but today I want to talk about the Toastmasters' reaction to the concept of a woman with a tattoo.

I don't even remember how it was brought up. The topic of discussion isn't important here. All I remember is approaching the podium at the tail-end of a very short discussion based on a member's mention of a woman with a tattoo. The Toastmasters reacted to this idea with disgust.

"A woman with a tattoo? Never!"
"No, no, no. That's just not right."

Several disparaging comments followed. There was laughing from the members and a general feel of that's just gross and wrong filled the air.

I suddenly felt as though I had been hit with a baseball bat right in the heart as the words whispered out of my mouth so quietly that I'm not even sure if they heard me, "Heeey, I have a tattoo..."

I decided to save my opinion for a future speech topic, but it really gave me pause. Would they have made the comments and laughed disgustedly had they known I had a tattoo? Would they have said those things and reacted the way they did? My guess is that they would not have, but alas, they were either unaware of my tattoo or had forgotten and I found myself suddenly... hurt.

They obviously didn't understand tattooed people at all. I have as much value as you do, I thought. Then, how dare you?


Anyone who knows me is privy to the knowledge that I used to "hang with the rough crowd," as someone once put it. A tattoo was never something I judged a person by, however. It was always their character that caught my attention, not the tattoos they did or did not display. I've had artsy friends with artsy tattoos, Christian friends with Christian tattoos, a principal with a war tattoo, friends with funny, scary, and memorial tattoos, and on and on and on... and I couldn't care less. It is not a disgraceful thing to me by any measure.

I felt my peers' judgement was harsh and unwarranted. I also knew they would love me no less if they knew and would feel terrible for having offended me. Insert foot in mouth? Perhaps they would. Perhaps not. Perhaps it would spark a friendly debate, which would also make me happy.

I appreciate the artistic value of any tattoo. A tattoo is not something to decide on lightly. I wasn't young and impulsive when I got this tattoo. I've had it for a long time, but I was in my early thirties before I got my first tattoo. I only have the one, but I say 'first' because I do plan to get others in the future.

The face you see above isn't a random kitty. It is a representation of a cat I once had. Laugh if you want to, but this cat was like a child to me. It was before I had children and she was my everything. She was my baby. I loved her like no other pet. When she died, I cried for 3 solid days. I was heartbroken.

When I decided to get a tattoo, it was an easy decision for it to be dedicated to her. Although you cannot read it now, it says, "Mazie 5/01," which was when she died. I designed the paw print myself on the computer and did not even realize I had done it wrong until somebody pointed it out to me post-tatting. However, I found a way to justify the missing digit because I did have two other cats, one black named Lucy and a white cat named Jane. Due to an accident, Jane was left with half a tail and only three legs. Jane was awesome, too. I once saw her climb the tallest tree in the back yard and then cartwheel down like a rappelling mountain climber just as a horrible storm approached. I swear, I have witnesses. She rocked.

They were great cats, too, but they were no Mazie. Mazie would lay in my arms on her back like a baby. I would stay in an uncomfortable position for hours just so I wouldn't disturb her. She would sleep with me nightly and sometimes softly touch her paw to my cheek as if to say, "Oh, mama, how I love you." I adored her.

I had her cremated through a local service provider when she died. They put her ashes in a small wooden box in a cute little pink bag with a pretty silver ribbon and some colorful dried flowers for decoration inside. I kept her ashes until just a few weeks ago when I finally felt it was time to let her go. As I walked the beautiful path down to the creek, I tore a hole in the pink plastic bag and let her remains fall onto the earth and into the creek as I went. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Goodbye, sweet Mazie.

Back to the tattoo. I forget I even have it. It's on my lower back and I'm only reminded when someone references it if it pokes out above my jeans as I bend over to do something. Do I regret it? No. It was very meaningful at the time. But especially in light of the fact that the colors have faded and the lines are blurred and the pretty script text is undecipherable, I wouldn't mind if weren't there anymore either.

I actually had a tick attach to the tattoo's eye once and the resulting itchiness caused me to scratch it to the point where my poor bedraggled Mazie tat now has what I call the "stink eye." She isn't very pretty anymore.

I will not get a pet tattoo again (no memorial Great Pyrenees on my booty after Buddy dies, sorry), but would love to get a Christian based tattoo and some artistic ones as well. Whether I decide to keep them where I can conceal them or not has not been decided. Will my Toastmasters recoil in horror at my blatant display of body art? I don't really care. Not to sound like a song from 1963, but hey... it's my body and I'll do what I want to, do what I want to, do what I want to... you'd tattoo too if it happened to you... bomp bomp ba da bomp.

Do you have tattoos? Tell me the story behind yours. I find each one fascinating.

Friday, August 29, 2014

15 Reasons Home Schooling is Awesome (and Why I'll Never Home School My Kid Again)

I entered a contest once called 2KoP (Two Kinds of People) in which you highlight two opposing viewpoints a person might possess. I wrote about those who would and those who would never pee in the shower. It was a smashing success and the two types of people came out of the woodwork to either high five me or voice their disgust.

There are also two kinds of people when it comes to home schooling. There are those who love it and those who think it's weird as hell and only religious freaks do it.

I wasn't in either camp, particularly, but there came a time, two years ago, when I had to make a choice as to which of these two types of people Cindy Brown would set up camp with.

My oldest daughter had entered high school, made friends easily, became a cheerleader, and was one of the popular kids. I was a bit shocked when she came home and asked me to home school her. She had missed some school due to illness and she was feeling some pressure from teachers to make up her work quickly. This wasn't the first time. I have sickly kids. It's been a battle.

I was a stay at home mom and a smart lady. I thought about it and did some initial research and decided we could do this. Besides, her logic was sound. How could I argue?

I feel like I could get as good of an education as public school or even a better education at home.

I wouldn't have to sit around and wait while teachers help other students.

I could finish high school in half the time and start college early.

Sick days wouldn't matter anymore and I could still do the work if I'm sick at home.

I could help you clean the house if I were home to do it.

I'd be able to concentrate better at home.

I won't miss my friends. I'll still do things with them.

I did my research and found that the possibilities were endless and agreed with her logic. I drafted a letter of withdrawal from public school and expected to have to explain myself. What happened next both shocked and disappointed me.

Not one school administrator, staff member, or teacher asked me why I was withdrawing my child.

Not one.

In light of the fact that it seemed they didn't give a hoot about my child, I was pleased with my decision... initially.

I had done my research and found that she could still easily enter into college as a home schooled student, even Ivy League and even without accredited home schooling. She wanted to go to Yale.

I found an online program where she (or any other household member, for that matter) could do as many years of schooling as desired for $400 a year.

My younger daughter stayed in public school. She loved it and there was no reason to remove her, so we didn't.

The first year of home school with my oldest daughter went quite well. Without further ado, the top 15 reasons we loved home schooling:
  1. No pressure. Go at your own pace.
  2. Sleep in if you want. Get your work done in three hours? Nap time!
  3. Save on gas.
  4. Field trips seem like cheating.
  5. Want to finish high school, start college, and get your license, all when you turn 16? Okay!
  6. Multitude of programs available; easy, difficult, cheap, expensive? You decide.
  7. Your education is in your own hands. Dumb? Smart? It's up to you.
  8. Want a better grade? Study up! Do-overs are allowed.
  9. Scheduling things is a breeze.
  10. Save on lunch money. Feed your child nutritious meals at home.
  11. Spend time with your precious cherubs.
  12. Hard to cheat when mom is watching over you.
  13. No dealing with teachers, lunch ladies, or coaches. Jumping on the trampoline is PE.
  14. Sick on Tuesday? Make it up on the weekend.
  15. Housework, cooking, bills, etc. are Home Economics (now FCS - Family/Consumer Science). My house was so clean and I was teaching her life skills.
Now, the truth is that although all of that was awesome, it turned out that she did miss her friends and wanted to return to public high school for her sophomore year.

Fine. I understood. I tried to put the wheels in motion for her, talking to every school representative I could get my hands on and... failed.

Guess what? I found that it would have been easier to get her into college as a home schooled student than to get her back into public high school in the state of Illinois.

Even though she had worked hard and gotten straight A's her freshman year at home and I had kept full transcripts and charted each and every assignment with an Excel file and detailed grading procedures, our school district turned into Dr. Seuss on me.

We could not, would not, take her back.
We do not care if she's on track.
Not by herself, not in a crowd.
No home school credits are allowed!
We cannot, will not, test her in.
She can come back, as a freshman.
She'd have to repeat all she's done.
To be with her peers for public school fun.

As you can imagine, this went over like a lead balloon. She didn't want to repeat the year she'd done at home and we didn't want to feel like we wasted a year of her life, my time and effort, and four hundred bucks, which is twice what it cost for public school education when I enrolled her in her freshman year there.

In all the talks with superintendents, however, a comment was made to me that "it might be different if it were an accredited school we're familiar with."

Being ever so observant of this comment, I embarked on a new goal for her sophomore year of home schooling: get an accredited program to avoid future problems.

I soon discovered that this was neither easy, nor cheap, and that some of the top programs that met what we were looking for were religious, not secular. We are Christians, but we wanted a secular program. This post would go into book form if I took the time to explain why.

We discussed everything and began researching home school programs again. My daughter thought her freshman year was too easy and requested a harder program.We found a fully accredited program she could do online with full teacher support, online class requirements, etc. and put her on a fast track college prep course of action. It was a religious program, but only required her to take one religion course. We could handle that. All work was done online, taught and graded by very competent teachers, with report cards, transcripts, even virtual Biology labs were done online.

My daughter was motivated and ready to take on the world and we were ready to see her succeed. The public school allowed her to come in for driver's education, but that was it. No sports, nothing else. This home school program was much different than the last. We braced ourselves for tuition at Yale and dropped the nearly $3,000 for her sophomore year of accredited high school online private schooling at Alpha Omega Academy without trepidation. We wanted nothing more than to see our child excel.

Okay, roll the Jaws theme music. This is where home schooling devours the whole family.

I now give you the top 15 reasons we hate home schooling:
  1. Pressure. She only had 8 months to complete her work on the fast track plan. We were allowed a free extension of two months, but any additional months would cost $200/month. She took the entire 10 months and even needed a couple of extra days, which they didn't charge us for since a teacher was out when she needed to do an over-the-phone French assignment.
  2. Get up at a decent hour because it takes six hours minimum a day to complete your work. No time for naps, breaks, etc! You want to go to Yale? This will sure prepare you.
  3. Save on gas, but pay nearly $3,000 for one year of school, so who cares?
  4. No time for field trips. Each day was scheduled out with an online planner and you had to keep a schedule.
  5. Do two years in one year? Not with this program! It was extremely hard and she became quickly overwhelmed.
  6. The program was not only difficult and expensive (although there are programs out there that cost five times as much), but once 30 days is up, you're stuck with the program. No refunds, no changing the type of schooling (online vs. books), no get out of jail free card. You pay, you play. Also, she did not agree with the religious content and had trouble reconciling her own religious views with what was expected in the courses.
  7. Her education was in her own hands. She wanted to be smart and excel, but the stress and overwhelming nature of the entire experience left her exhausted an exasperated. She lost her drive to succeed.
  8. Do-overs were not only allowed, but required for low grades in many cases. This is a benefit for those who are on track and love the program, but a time drain and stress inducing factor in trying to keep on pace when you just want it to be over and accept the grade, no matter what it may be. My straight A student struggled to maintain B's and C's.
  9. Scheduling things was not easy since we were constantly stressing about keeping her on track.
  10. Cook something nutritious for her? Sure, but she would refuse it and you can't force food down a fifteen year old. She was never hungry and/or wanted only to snack through the day; not healthy habits!
  11. Due to the fact that I was always harassing her about keeping on track, our relationship suffered. I became a prison warden to her, banging my night stick on her cell bars, instead of enjoying my time with her as her mother. We fought more and she and I were ready to do anything to be apart by the end of the year. She couldn't stand me by the time it was over and I dreaded even waking her up in the morning because I knew the stress would start right then. It wasn't fun.
  12. She finally went into complete block out mode and began fibbing her way out of work. I'm a smart woman, but it took me a couple of months to catch on. Did you know that if they have their headphones in, you can't tell if your child is watching a video for an assignment or watching a TV show online unless you catch her by glancing over her shoulder through the window while you're outside doing yard work? I then had to crack down even harder, which strained our relationship even more. "This is what you wanted!" was not what she wanted to hear. "I can't stand you!" was not what I wanted to hear. We resented each other.
  13. She became sluggish, quit working out, and seemed like a caged animal in a very small enclosure. She came up with any excuse to delay the start of her day... shower, pooping, tired, have to wait to get a hold of a teacher for an assignment... I could tell she was miserable, but she had to finish the year. It was torture for both of us. She couldn't concentrate and everything distracted her. I had to be on her every second and checking her every move. Her friends were busy with school activities and we live really far out of town, so rarely did friends come out to see her. She felt isolated, but refused to join any local home school groups.
  14. There was no time for a sick day if you wanted to keep on track. She was sick just as much, still couldn't work when sick even though she was at home, and the pressure from me was no less than it was with her teachers in public school. Getting behind caught up with her to the point that it almost seemed impossible to finish the program, but she made it. We did have to drop one semester of one class, but it was a relief. She just could not grasp the French language at all, even with my help. 
  15. There was no time to help out with housework or cooking. There was no time for teaching life skills. We both hated home schooling by the end and our last nerves were tattered and frayed from the experience. With every fiber of our being, we were done with home schooling, no matter what.
Yes, in one fell swoop of a year's time, we went from 'Go, home schooling! Hip hip hooray!' to 'Please kill me now, in the event that I should ever consider home schooling again! I would choose death over this!'

Of course, the story doesn't end there. I had to go back through all of the school administrators again to try and register her, thinking that due to the comment made to me about school accreditation last year, we might at least have a chance this year that they would accept her and just give her credit for the one accredited home schooling year, especially since it was through the same regional accrediting body. Not so. They still wouldn't budge. I had to improvise.

I pulled out every gun I had (transcripts, mid-year testing scores, accredited home school information, highlighted pages from the district's own policy manual, made phone calls to the Illinois State Board of Education, the regional accrediting agency, etc.) and loaded up a manila file folder for a meeting with the superintendent, who then had to pass it through the lawyer and the school board for approval.

Whew. I get exhausted just talking about it.

Good news, though. We have her back in public school, but the circumstances are not exactly as we had hoped.

Mr. Scary Superintendent (the guy looks like a marine) was actually very gracious in giving me his time and upon his recommendation, the lawyer and the board agreed that she be allowed to proficiency test into her grade, which she did. I think she is the first student they've done this for. Hooray! All was right with the world and she could return to public school as a junior. I won the battle. She won the battle. We were elated!

Just one tiny hitch. They still are not accepting any of her home school credits, which means that she would either have to make up two years of credits or she cannot graduate with her class. Yes, they have every right to do this. I've checked. It's our district's policy to not accept any credits and the upper-level superintendent who made the suggestive comment to me about using an accredited school they've heard of didn't even remember talking to me the year before. Even though I reminded her, she restated the district policy and Mr. Scary's hands were tied.

In order to make credit accepting exceptions for our daughter, there would have to be a district wide policy change and quite frankly, most people they have home school experience with just don't do like we do and seriously home school. The dean of students told me that five people withdrew to home school last year and they were all due to truancy issues. We and our serious home school efforts are apparently not the norm in our district and we have to suffer the consequences the bad apples have put in place for us.

We cut our losses and decided that the most important things were getting her back into public school and saving our sanity, credits applied or not.

I am tired of fighting. I am tired of worrying. I am tired of stressing. She will live a good life and the world will continue to turn, turn, turn. It's going to be fine. I promise.

For crying out loud, my daughter's latest stated goal had morphed into becoming a Disney princess and I took the question, "How old do you have to be to drop out of high school?" as a hint that we'd better do something fast. I'm not knocking Disney princesses, but going from a goal of Yale to that was just bizarre. We knew we had to meet the school district in the middle.

She was able to start school the day after it officially started and she is thrilled to be back in, at the same level as her peers (with the exception of foreign language classes). I can see her slowly coming back to life and I think her passion to excel in life will return, at least somewhat. She's been nominated for the homecoming court, aspires to be valedictorian, and has joined Code Red, where she and many classmates will root for their sports teams throughout the year. Her first football game is tonight and she just got her driver's license a week ago today. She is ready to fly like an eagle and just... be... a normal teenager in high school.


Don't worry, she can still go to college if she wants to. It isn't a death sentence. Trust me. I've checked. She has a high school education. It just hasn't been a traditional one.

Even with all of the stresses of public school, we now realize that home schooling is not the answer for us. Sure, we could have forced her to keep home schooling. We could have gone all Goldilocks and the Three Bears and kept looking for yet another program to suit her, saying, "This one was too soft, this one was too hard, but this one is just right!" To be truthful, however, the lack of porridge zapped our energy and we just wanted our daughter to be happy and motivated again. We knew home schooling wasn't going to accomplish that, not for her.

Let me be very clear that I am not bashing home schooling in any way or Alpha Omega Academy (it's an excellent program). It can be an awesome opportunity for a child and I know many people who love home school and do it successfully in their households and are happy as clams. Their children go on to excel and enter college at a younger age. They are smart and motivated and happy. Good for them. It just wasn't good for us.

If you'd like, share your home school stories with me. Do you know a person who home schooled or have you ever thought about it or tried it? I'd love to hear about someone else's struggles or success stories now. I have blown enough hot air into the blogosphere for one day.

Monday, August 18, 2014

My Little Identity Crisis

I have an identity crisis with my blog. I am a humor writer. However, all I can think of lately is serious subject matter. So, do I write serious matter or do I bite the bullet and make all of my serious subject matter funny? Do I avoid serious subject matter or wait until the funny hits me and go with that? Life is a funny thing, I'll give you that. However, it's not always ha ha funny. Sometimes, it's strange funny. And stressful. I'm at a crossroads. Help.

Monday, July 7, 2014

Why Is Everyone So Offended These Days?

Recently, I read a blog post and found that I had an opposing view to not only the writer, but all of her commentators as well. I feel the need to respond because I think that as a nation, we need to lighten up and certainly have more empathy and respect for others.

Why on earth does everyone get offended so easily these days? You can read Lisa A. Kramer's post, Dear Man in the Cubicle Next to Me on the blog Woman Wielding Words, or take my short version at face value.

Summary
She goes to have blood drawn. Tough looking guy is put in cubicle next to her to have his blood drawn and she overhears him say, "I'm such a girl about this."

She takes offense and itches to say something to him in response, but ultimately does not and just blogs about it instead, wrestling with whether or not she should have spoken her mind.

One woman, quite incensed, wrote a 500+ word response, basically calling this poor guy a "chauvinist".
Another comment refers to him as a "jerk".
Then another pulls out "bigot."
"He was wrong," says another.

I must say that my heart just sank when I read the post and all of the subsequent comments. Why must anyone take such offense to this benign statement that a post be written about it and this man attacked?

Let's break this down. Lisa states that the man has tattoos and muscles and appears to be a tough guy. Her point is that women handle pain better than men in many cases (childbirth, anyone?) and that his comment was basically insulting to females.

I am female. Lisa is a female. Most of the commentators are female. Why are the general masses offended by his statement and I am not? I had to check myself for the answer. Am I weak? Am I too soft? Am I a bad judge of character? No, I don't think so. Because I did not agree with the masses, however, I felt that I was in some way wrong.

Rosie The Riveter Flexing Her Arm Muscles, We Can Do It! - Free Pictures at Historical Stock Photos.com

Let me be clear that I am not attacking Lisa here. She genuinely felt hurt by his statement. I am simply intrigued by the fact that she and I see the situation differently and I want further input from my readers on how you see this situation.

This subject was even addressed in a commercial recently which Lisa and I both found in subsequent conversation that we had both viewed. You can view the Always "Like a Girl" commercial here. I must say that I disagree with that commercial as well. When I heard that comment as a young girl, it just made me want to do my best to see if I could match the boys. As a grown woman, I've found that sometimes the answer is yes and sometimes the answer is no, not ever... and I'm fine with that.

The last time I checked, ladies and gentlemen, there ARE differences between men and women and we women are still considered the fairer sex, aren't we? Has women's lib gone too far and we now believe any comment putting a female on a lower position on the totem pole is a negative one? I think that's silly and shallow. Men are designed by God to be physically stronger than women. They are designed to be hunters, gatherers, and protectors. Have we thrown this aside just because we can now perform many tasks that only men previously performed?

To call him a bigot is not even right by simple definition. A bigot is "a person who strongly and unfairly dislikes other people, ideas, etc. : a bigoted person; especially : a person who hates or refuses to accept the members of a particular group (such as a racial or religious group)" according to Mirriam-Webster.

He didn't mean that he hates or refuses to accept women! He was making a comment about his own vulnerability and weakness. For this, he is attacked. None of these people even know this man. He might very well be the loveliest human being ever.

A jerk? Again, Mirriam-Webster defines a jerk as, "a stupid person or a person who is not well-liked or who treats other people badly."

And what does Webster define as a chauvinist? "an attitude that the members of your own sex are always better than those of the opposite sex."

This man didn't say anything to warrant any of that! What he truly said was that in this situation, he felt weak, afraid, and not at all like the image he projects to the world. His comment sought comfort. He was not trying to be insulting.

I do not in any way, shape or form take offense to what he said. I feel compassion for him. I feel that he was the one wronged in this situation.

I had a conversation recently with a respectable man who told me that he believes that women's liberation has ruined the relationship between men and women. He pointed out that when he attends his daughter's sporting events, he hears nothing but the women around him bashing their husbands and other men. I'm ashamed to say that I hear women do this also. He said their comments are so awful that he doesn't even understand why these women are still married to these men. They speak as though they hate them. Is this to appear dominant? Tough? Independent? What are we trying to say here with this deplorable behavior, women?

Now, what do you say? Am I wrong? I would love to hear your comments. I promise, I won't take offense to anything.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Lyme Disease Awareness Month & Beer Ticks

It's May and that means it's Lyme Disease Awareness Month. Although this may not be on your radar, it is certainly on mine and I could not let the month end without doing a PSA on Lyme Disease because, you know, I have it.

Allow me to introduce you to Ranger Cindy Brown. (Disclaimer: I am not a real Ranger.)

My mother gave me this hat for
outdoors, I swear to God.
Now, let me tell you a little something about ticks. They don't care who your momma is or that she gave you that great hat with the lovely wide brim to protect you from the elements. If you have ticks in your element and ticks are attracted to you like they are attracted to me, they will find you.

They will hunt you down, rappel from mountainsides, leap from trees, and crawl stealthily up your pant leg to find your super tasty sweet soft skin and make you their host.

However, this is one dinner party you don't want to throw.

Mainly because ticks carry Lyme Disease and you don't want it.

I've posted about it before when I was diagnosed here and unfortunately, it did not leave me. I still have it and am not sure if I will ever be rid of it. At least it's been manageable for me in the past year.

That white speck is my skin.
I've taken many pictures of the ticks I've pulled off in this past year. This year so far, I've had eight ticks attached and have literally pulled off about a hundred and that's no joke.

Once again, bugs love me. I am their queen.

To right, you will see a picture of a tick I pulled off my head. It still has a piece of my skin in its mouth. Although not a nice thing to think about, this is what you want to see. You want to pull off the entire tick and NOT leave the head of the tick embedded. Just ask Lisa Gradess-Weinstein, who after reading about my Lyme journey, recognized symptoms and went to the doctor only to find that part of a tick was left embedded in her leg, and causing her troubles. Thankfully, she was tested and did not have Lyme, but the bugger had left its troubles behind anyway.

Ranger Cindy says "Protect and Check!"

What can you do to protect yourself from getting Lyme Disease? Well, in honor of Lyme Disease Awareness Month, I am wanting to help spread the word, since I'm becoming quite the expert and all.

Protect yourself with Permethrin if you are going out into the woods. I have dogs to walk and a trail I walk for exercise. I live smack dab in the middle of deep woods, so it's impossible for me to avoid woods and I would not advise that you let your fear overtake you and avoid woods for the rest of your life either. Nature is beautiful and should be experienced... with appropriate caution.

I thought I would have to order Permethrin, but I was thrilled to find it at Rural King made by a company called Repel. You spray this on your clothing and shoes, backpack, etc. It not only repels ticks, but will kill them as well. Oh yeah, I totally did a kill test. These suckers are hard to kill, and this stuff works like a charm. Follow directions, though, because I think it lasts two weeks or something like that and I have found it to produce great results with one application to shoes and pants - many days tick free!

You can also use repellents like Off or Cutter. They don't keep everything off of me, but they do help.

You may smell like a chemical factory (see pictured stinky face), but you won't care if it keeps you from getting Lyme Disease, trust me. You don't want it. Ever.

The next thing you do to protect yourself is to check, check, check yourself for ticks after you have been in an exposed area. This week, I had someone who lives in town tell me they found a tick on their pillow at home. They have no idea how it got there. So you never know, but you can be sure that if you have been in a wooded area, they may travel home with you or on you or with your dog or on your dog.

Check especially under areas where your clothing may have been tight. The tick I had which transferred to me the evil Lyme Disease was under my bra strap to the back of my armpit. Stealthy and unnoticed, it did its thing for two days before I discovered it.

Ticks come in several shapes and sizes, so look at the pictures here and on other websites to familiarize yourself with what they look like. They can be oval or round, brown or black, white dots or solid color.

They love to attach to your head, so be vigilant to check your hair very well with your fingertips and fingernails after a walk in the woods. Check again after several hours. Check again the next day. And for good measure, the day after that. You can never be too careful and they can attach without you ever feeling it or knowing it.

The one pictured below is on a postcard. That's a postal bar code there, for size reference.

They can be so small, you can barely see them. Once, we went mushroom hunting in Tennessee on the way to vacation in Alabama and we came back to the hotel room only to find that we were all covered in tiny ticks. We must have stumbled into an area with a nest or infestation. We found lots of great mushrooms, but we were panicked about all of the ticks. We had to check in crevices of each others' bodies that nobody ever wants to see. Still, with showering and closely inspecting, we all still had ticks attach.


Some ticks are as small as a speck of pepper, like the next pictured one here on top of a contact lens solution bottle cap. I'm using a magnifying glass in this particular photo and there is a hair beside the tick to show the size. It was so tiny, I was lucky to detect it.
I mostly get ticks when I've been outdoors unprotected, but I sometimes find them in my house just crawling around. I recently found two beer ticks in the house. Yep, you heard me right. I said beer ticks. I have photographic proof.

I found ticks in my house on not only one, but two beer cans one day. Apparently, beer ticks prefer light beer.

When ticks attach, they excrete a kind of glue which helps them adhere to your body. You can react to this substance and it can make you itch as well.

I saw a piece Dr. Oz did on ticks and I had to cringe. He instructed the woman on stage with the giant pair of prop tweezers to remove the giant prop tick and he told her to grab it behind it's head. WHAT? No, no, no.

You should use tweezers if possible (especially if you have someone else to help you remove the tick), but you have to be careful not to squeeze the body of the tick and squeeze its Lyme juice right into you.

You want to make sure you remove the head of the tick, not leave it in your head. As I mentioned before, if you see a speck of your own skin in the tick's grasp when you pull it out, that's good. It means you removed the entire tick, head and all.

When I found the tick with the horrible cellulitis-like swelling (which in reality was the Erythema-Migrans rash, cleverly disguised as cellulitis and not really a bulls eye looking thing at all), my doctor treated me with antibiotics that should have taken care of an initial Lyme Disease infection, but it did not.

Perhaps it was too strong. Perhaps I was too weak. Perhaps my theory is right and I already had Lyme Disease which had not been too problematic in my life and that particular tick bite kicked it into overdrive.

If that theory is correct, then I was already in late disseminated Lyme and the antibiotic treatment I received was not adequate. After being sent to an Infectious Disease Specialist and being put on two months of Doxycyclene (which he said "should take care of it"), I still can tell a year later that I am not rid of this disease.

I have started my Salt/Vitamin C regimen again. I have good days and bad days, but it is nowhere as bad as it was before.

I have that weird feeling in the back of my head.
My arms fall asleep at night.
I need frequent naps.
My right elbow and my forearms feel arthritic.
I'm seeing the rashes reappear.

I just know what it feels like. I know what it feels like to the point that I helped diagnose someone recently. I ran into my sister-in-law's mother at HellMart Walmart and she told me she felt like she was falling apart. All of her symptoms were so similar to my late disseminated Lyme symptoms that I made her promise that she would demand her doctor test her for Lyme. She did. She was positive.

Then, she went through the same rigmarole many Lyme sufferers experience. She had several other docs say, "Nope, you don't have it." I urged her to find an LLMD. She persisted and was properly tested and guess what... she has a bad case of late disseminated Lyme. Not only that, she had been diagnosed and treated for MS for 18 years and the LLMD said, "You never had MS. This has been Lyme the whole time."

Imagine! She is now in the fight of her life, taking eleven medications and thankfully covered by insurance thus far. I know like I know like I know that there are thousands of people out there just like her, misdiagnosed with illnesses like Fibromyalgia, MS, Chronic Fatigue, etc. Lyme is not nicknamed "The Great Imitator" for nothing. It mimics many diseases and doctors are sorely under-educated about Lyme.

Do what you can to help spread the word and just be aware and protect and check yourself when outdoors. If someone has the symptoms I listed in my first post about Lyme (reference the link at the beginning of this post), please encourage them to get tested and seek the advice of an LLMD. An LLMD is a Lyme Literate Medical Doctor and is NOT an Infectious Disease doctor or a regular MD. It is someone who specializes in the treatment of Lyme Disease.

Be safe and enjoy the summer! Back to more fun posts in the future which will not feature creepy-crawlies, I promise.