Sunday afternoon

 I feel better I had a good cry.  And I never cry.  

Two sides to my coin here: The accident took a man who took care of himself, me, and two employees, turned him into a bed bound abusive alcoholic.  

The other side the accident turned me from a scared little rabbit into a bold woman who fought for her man against all the odds and evolved me into an evangelist who has handed out literally thousands of items to hurting souls.  That's important.  

So important I had to go through all THAT?!  I wonder sometimes.  But I am one person and many have been helped.  

It would be easy to lose my faith; but I think that's the most valuable asset I have.  

I am cooking some biscuits, going to have them with honey and butter for lunch.  Yum.  I am also boiling a menstrual cup in it's special pot on the stove.  

When I first started using the cup one part of the routine is boiling it every week or so.  Wash out with soap morning and night, rinse as needed beside that when "flowing" but it also needs to be washed out with plain soap, rinsed, and boiled every week or use.  I am due in about a week or so and I want to have it ready, last month my cycle came early.  

Well that was upsetting.  I had written a little on Facebook about how today is hard.  One of the former postal workers basically said "Oh yeah Ron was crippled for life but it's OK because we prayed for you, and he was such an inspiration going back to work" He HAD to go back to work because we got screwed on the insurance settlement.  Running over someone and crippling them for life, allowing the perpetrator to stalk the victim for years (until I got the union involved) is not cancelled out because you mumbled a quick prayer on the fly the day of the accident.  It's just NOT.  

I'm sorry you find my pain so offensive but some things aren't fixed.  Ron was crippled for the rest of his life in agonizing pain.  A prayer does not make that better.  Yes, he lived, but at what cost?  I get now why all the doctors basically told me he'd be better off dead.  I didn't, at the time.  I do now.  

On one level, yes, Ron was an amazing inspiration.  On another, practical, level - one I saw every day - Ron lived in agonizing pain to the point I was fighting with EMS to stop his pain.  Physical.  Mental pain he numbed with alcohol.  His own family disowned him because they might have had to lift a finger.  I was the only one he had left and I had plenty of problems of my own.  

UGH.  That's it for now I'm going to take a nap.  

About the cup well it's something that goes inside my privates... I am not going to use that pot for anything else, and I don't.