The Accident

Hello dear readers, and happy Saturday! Tomorrow is the Super Bowl, which my family and I will be sure to watch, even though none of us care much for the sport of football.

I'm sorry for not writing much these past few days. The baby has been keeping me busy, and yesterday we were involved in a fender bender.

We were driving home from running errands when a woman in an SUV slammed into us from behind. It was sudden and I was completely unprepared for the impact. Thank God and the laws of physics that we had been in motion and slowing down to stop at the light when the collision happened. The damage and resulting injuries would have been alot worse if we had been totally stopped. As we lurched forward, hubby's reflexes were fortunately still quick and he was able to hit the brakes to stop us from colliding with the car in front of us, averting a domino effect accident. My husband figured the woman who hit us had been speeding, based on how hard she hit us.

It was kinda like this, only with an SUV in place of the blue car and both cars were still whole. Pic found here

In addition to knocking the seat back a few inches, the whiplash caused by the impact sent my head snapping back into the headrest and my glasses flying off of my face. I felt dazed, but I was aware that we had been rear-ended. While my hubby called the cops to file a report, he saw the other car trying to drive off and he sent me out to stop her. I remember fumbling for the seat belt, but I don't remember pulling it off as I threw open the passenger side door and stumbled out of the car. I had to walk towards the SUV behind us holding onto the car because my balance had been thrown off and my legs were shaking. The other driver came out and apologized, claiming she hadn't see us and that she wanted to move off the road and into a dirt lot next to us to get out of traffic. Despite my dazed and blinded condition thanks to my glasses being somewhere in the car, I talked her into staying put. I vaguely recalled learning in Drivers Ed in high school that when you're in an accident, you have to stay where you are, even if its in traffic, until the cops come and deal with the situation. I wanted to believe her when she said she was just gonna pull off to the lot, but I didn't want to take a chance on letting her run off on us; especially since my husband caught her moving away from our car already. So we stayed put until the cops and an ambulance came to check us out.

Despite the adrenaline and daze, there were no injuries. My left arm was slightly numb from my elbow hitting the back of the seat and my neck was starting to hurt. The baby was in the backseat and was crying, but her carseat saved her from being hurled through the back window and she did not appear to be injured. The loud bang caused by the impact seemed to have scared her more than anything else. The EMTs checked us all out and pronounced us good to go. The police made their report, gave us a copy, and on Monday we will be dealing with the insurance companies. The car is driveable, but it's totaled. The frame is significantly bent and the doors can't open or close without significant force being levied on them. There is also a broken rear axle near the passenger side tire and the trunk is pretty much sitting on the ground, low-rider style. The force of the collision made the rear fold down like an accordion.

Depending on how I feel, I may be wearing one of these soon. Pic found here

As for today, the day after the accident, my neck hurts and I have some back pain. The back pain is not nearly as bad as the neck pain, and even then the neck pain isn't severe. I can turn my head, uncomfortable as it may be, but the real pain is when I look up or down. I spent most of the day resting and binge watching "Ghost Adventures" on my computer. My side of the car seemed to have gotten most of the impact because neither my husband nor the baby are hurting like I am. If I am still in pain by Monday, I will see a chiropractor.

I did manage to recover my glasses. They survived intact as they had landed on the hood of the stroller in the backseat. I am grateful for that bit of luck because my vision is poor and I can't afford to get new glasses if my up-to-date-script glasses are broken.

I will continue with the 21 day blog challenge tomorrow. I'm too sore to think of a subject to go with the prompt right now. I will finish this damn thing once and for all, even though it has been longer than 21 days since I started the challenge.

Thank you for reading this post and please don't forget to share, comment, and subscribe!

The Peace Offering

Last night, an unexpected visitor stopped by our home.

It was my daughter's disgraced godfather.

After an explosive fallout with him over his prostitute girlfriend stealing cosmetics and brushes from me and his lie to us about where he met this woman, my husband and I cut off all contact with our daughter's godfather and told him to stay away. He did stay away, but my grudge against him has not lifted one bit.

Scene from her baptism. He's the one on the right, standing next to my husband

I did not actually see the disgraced man. I didn't even know he came. This was fortunate since if I had, the scene could have become quite ugly. It was my husband who saw and interacted with him. It was only after he left that my husband came into the bedroom where I was and dumped an armload of Christmas presents on the bed before proceeding with his narrative.

After waking up from his nap, my husband had gone outside with his cup of coffee to round up the cats for their evening feed. While he was out there, he saw our daughter's godfather pull up in his car, bearing presents for us. My husband was surprised to see him, but having known our daughter's godfather for over 20 years, he knew this visit was not one of sinister motives.

Sure enough, the prostitute girlfriend landed my daughter's godfather in a world of shit. She was a perpetual kleptomaniac, stealing not just from me, but his other friends and ultimately from him too. According to what he told my husband, the girlfriend stole some jewelry from his mom, which led to his family kicking him out of their home and coming to within a hair's breadth of disowning him. It didn't help that she smoked heroin, and most likely stole to support her addiction in addition to turning tricks. After they moved into an apartment that he was now calling home, the girlfriend and her stepfather who taught her to steal were arrested for trying to walk out of Walmart with TWO FULL SHOPPING CARTS of stuff! It was a VERY amateur level attempted robbery since the security cameras caught it ALL in full view. While out on bail, she then proceeded to steal our daughter's godfather's car. It was at that point that he called the police and had her arrested again. She is currently sitting in jail, awaiting trial for theft and facing five years in prison for her crimes.

My husband simply stood there at the fence and let his former friend spill his troubles. The presents he brought were his peace offering, a means of atonement for his crimes against us. My husband accepted the gifts, seeing that it was not a bribe as I thought it was, and told his disgraced friend to leave. Our daughter's godfather reported that he had been continuing to go to church, but was going to the early morning Masses at our other church, since we don't get up that early and were unlikely to cross paths at that time. He asked when Confessions were being held, since he wanted to go before Christmas Mass. My husband told him when and where to go, but neither of us have much hope that he'll follow through. With the exception of Easter, he's never followed through on his Confession commitments.

When my husband returned to the bedroom with the presents and the report, my initial confusion over the gifts was replaced with a resounding feeling of victory. I predicted it would come to this, and I was vindicated in the most dramatic way possible. Following the advice of my favorite Carmelite priest, I tried not to engage in schadenfreude. But on the other hand, "I told you so!" has never been a more appropriate phrase to use in this context.

I still haven't forgiven my daughter's godfather for bringing his kleptomaniac girlfriend over and robbing me. I don't know that I ever will. Forgiveness can be a very difficult thing. It's natural to stew in one's own anger and indignation for a while before God's Grace makes forgiveness possible. I suppose this will have to be the route I take.

I will enjoy the presents in the meantime. I accept the peace offering too.

Life With Addiction

This is a topic that may be sensitive for some readers.

As I have alluded in past posts, my husband is a recovering opiate addict. While he experimented with drugs during his youth and early adulthood, he emerged relatively unscathed but with an appreciation for the effects chemical substances have on the body. It wasn't until his late 30s-early 40s that he became addicted to opiates. Contrary to the narrative pushed by the powers that be about addiction, my husband did not become addicted from recreational use. It was a result of health issues which left him in constant pain and unable to function without the relief of opiates. It didn't help that his family had a history of depressant abuse. When he lost his job for political reasons, his health insurance ended and he could not afford prescription opiates. He then turned to heroin to ease his pain. After a few years of using heroin, my husband finally enrolled in a methadone treatment program because it was covered by Medicaid and he was eligible for it.

It was not an easy transition for him. At the time, my husband was homeless, suffering health issues unrelated to his addiction, and using a combination of cocaine and cheap vodka to function because he had difficulty adjusting to the methadone lethargy ("haze", as he calls it). Since we're close to Mexico, drugs are cheap and of decent quality. Unlike many junkies, my husband did not turn to crime to get the money he needed to buy drugs. If he got a computer job, a monetary donation from someone or even selling something, he would use that. He occasionally continued to use heroin when he could not get to the clinic, and it wasn't until 2007 that my husband finally got used to the methadone enough that he could stop doing the drugs and commit himself full-time to the treatment program. The medically-supervised withdrawal period he had to undergo to enter into the clinic's treatment program was also rough on him, but he survived. He has not used an illicit substance since 2007.

This is my husband in 2004. He'd just become a full-blown opiate addict at this point

Before I met him, I looked down on anyone who used drugs as my middle-class upbringing dictated that I should. I'd been taught that drug addicts were the shit of the earth and that they deserved whatever misfortunes were handed to them because of their condition.

Meeting my husband changed all of that.

When I first met him in the church courtyard that fateful Sunday morning in October of 2011, with his scraggly appearance and grimy white netbook, my husband made it clear what his condition was. By the time of our meeting, his days of using drugs were behind him and he was clean for four years at that point. He was quite open with me about his opiate addiction, and showed no shame whatsoever about it. He made it a point to not be ashamed because, as he saw it, addiction was not a moral failing or some other sanctimonious belief. He saw it as a sickness, similar to diabetes, differing only in the legality of the substance being injected. That analogy forever changed my perception of the nature of addiction. If we go by the definition of an addiction being a physical dependence upon a chemical substance for the purpose of functioning normally, then the diabetic suddenly has alot more in common with the socially unacceptable junkie than they might be comfortable admitting.

His 50th birthday, 2012. He never thought he'd live that long

To this day, my husband still remains in his methadone program. He has been with this particular clinic for ten years now, and is quite satisfied with the treatment provided. Given that he's now in his fifties, my husband speculates that he might never get off methadone simply due to his age. We've been slowly working his dose down, but it's not easy. Methadone, contrary to what the US Government tells people, is slow acting and is actually more dangerous to wean off of. The only reason the government authorized its use is because methadone is regulated. Unlike heroin where you're taking a gamble every time you shoot up (even if you know the dealer), you know the exact strength and purity of your methadone dose.

Even though he is in recovery, my husband is still technically classified as an addict. He depends on the methadone to keep the chronic pain at bay. If he was to quit cold-turkey now, the withdrawal would kill him. This is why we have to incrementally lower his dose, weaning him off in baby steps. We have had some success too. My husband's dose has been lowered by 30mg in the four years we've known each other and been together. I would like for him to eventually not need the stuff, mostly for the sake of our children. My husband too would like to one day be totally clean. Given our proximity to Mexico, while most people here in my part of Arizona wouldn't care about drug use, getting completely off methadone would certainly lessen the stigma of having a drug addict for a father that our children would carry if we were to leave here and move elsewhere.

Will our child suffer because of her dad? Only time will tell

As it is, methadone comes with its own pitfalls. It's slow acting and will cause a "crash" (energy drop) a few hours after ingesting, only to pass about 20 minutes later. There is also a chronic lethargy that comes with being on methadone, which can make daily tasks harder to accomplish. Provided you stay with the program, one could argue that having to go to the clinic to meet with the counselor/case worker and re-up on the supply or go for the daily dosing is a pitfall in and of itself since one has to make accommodations for time and travel. Being a controlled substance, methadone has to be administered under medical supervision. As such, it also serves as a liquid ball and chain, making moves to other states or cities significantly more complicated since a new clinic must be found and patient relationship established. While methadone is a federally approved means of treatment and thus discrimination against someone who uses methadone for treatment purposes is illegal, it still can happen and methadone users can be at a disadvantage for finding gainful employment. One person might be afflicted, but the addiction touches everyone around them.

But, even with opiate addiction, life goes on as normally as it can. When he is able to get employment, my husband will go to work. He also does the honey-dos around the house as any man can when he gets around to it. We go places and do things as a normal family does, just with the noted exception that my husband has to take a chemical-smelling, dark pink liquid twice a day. Now that we have a child, my husband keeps the methadone locked up in a safe place so she can't get to it. Parents who own firearms or household chemicals do a similar thing.

Addiction is not just for Others. It can affect anyone and impact their families regardless of race, class, or background. I am sharing my experience with addiction to put a human face on a sickness that is horribly misunderstood and misconstrued by those with an agenda to push. Obviously, there are others out there whose experiences with addiction have been worse or better than mine. Addiction is multifaceted and the sooner it is recognized as such, the better work can be done to raise awareness and develop more effective treatments to combat it. Like everyone else who has an addict in the family, I did not seek it, but became an advocate for the addicted because I see how much suffering comes with this illness. Like AIDS patients in the 80s, addicts should not be treated as second-class citizens because of the circumstances that got them to where they are now.

If you or someone you know suffers from addiction, please don't hesitate to reach out for help. Here are some links you may find helpful.
http://www.recovery.org/topics/addiction-recovery-helplines/
http://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

A Visit to the Police Station

This is a followup to a previous post.

Today, I had to go to the police station.

As I alluded to in Bad Birthday, I have been the victim of a reshipping scam. After contacting local law enforcement, they advised me to cease all contact with the scammers and reject any packages that came. I have been diligently watching out for and chasing off delivery trucks when they arrive to my home with packages that I have no record of ordering nor do I know who is the sender.

Well yesterday, while we were out running errands and making an emergency computer call, our well-meaning but idiot neighbor saw one of the delivery trucks making a delivery and signed off on a package he thought was for me as he was passing by our gate. He gave it to us when we got home, which was later that evening. After telling him off, we took the package inside and put it in a safe place to hand over to the police.

Me telling off my neighbor. By the time I was done, he understood that he was never to sign off on any packages for us

Since we'd arrived home too late to call the police non-emergency number, we contacted them this morning to ask what should be done about this package in our custody. The individual on the phone advised us to bring it in as soon as we could. I then also printed off the emails I'd received from the scam company, the tracking info about the package, as well as source info about the message showing it being suspicious.

I was surprised to see that the police station was closer than I thought. As we pulled into the visitor parking lot, I told both my husband and the baby that I hope this is the last time I have to set foot in a police station. I went inside with the package and explained my situation to the officer working at the front desk. He took the package and my printout evidence, advising us to continue our regimen of ghosting the scammers.

The trip was shorter and less unpleasant than I thought it would be. I still hope I should never have to set foot in a police station again, but it was good to know where it was just in case.

Fortunately, we ended the outing with a trip to the grocery store for some needed essentials. We also got a few jars of baby food, mostly for size for when it's time to feed baby.

Me at feeding time

And that was my day.

Bad Birthday

Today is my birthday. While today should have otherwise been a day of celebration, it was anything but that.

Recently, I received an email seeking a prospective quality control analyst for a work from home position. The job description explained that I would be receiving packages at my home, opening them up and submitting reports via an online portal to the company, and then using a prepaid shipping label to send the package out to another location. I was admittedly suspicious, however I googled the name of the company (Saratoga QCA) with the express purpose of finding out if it was fraudulent. When the initial google search turned up nothing out of the ordinary, I accepted the job, filled out the paperwork, and submitted info to begin receiving packages for analysis. I received, and sent out one, on Friday, thinking nothing of it.

But in what may have been a technical difficulty of divine intervention, I could not access the online portal where I would check for messages and packages being sent out this morning when I turned on the computer. I kept getting a DNS error, and this happened across multiple devices. I checked the network settings on my computer and on the router, even going so far as to reboot the router. Still the same result. I attempted to email the individual with whom I had been corresponding about this position to ask what needed to be done since the portal was inaccessible, but a red flag popped up when I saw that email bounce. A phone call to the number provided on the application revealed a disconnected number. But what made my stomach drop was when I googled Saratoga QCA again to find their website for other contact information, and the website was gone. In its place was a scam alert forum advising people that Saratoga QCA was a reshipping scam website, trafficking in stolen or otherwise fraudulently obtained goods. Checking the IP addresses of the portal URL and the alert sites confirmed their being fraudulent.

Instead of accompanying my husband to the mall where he had gone to fill out a job application and getting a free birthday makeover at Sephora, I spent all morning contacting local law enforcement agencies, as well as filling out an online crime complaint with the FBI. I had my husband check our joint account for any suspicious activity because I gave that account information to the company for direct deposit payment. He confirmed no suspicious activity in the account. I did have him alert the bank to put fraud alerts on the account just in case. Unfortunately, because I did not lose any money to this outfit, there was not much that the police department could do. They just advised me to keep an eye on my accounts and credit reports and contact them if anything suspicious happens. They also advised me to reject any shipments of packages and cease contact with anyone claiming to be from Saratoga QCA immediately. I have kept all correspondence, invoices, and shipping labels from this outfit as evidence in case I have to produce it for the authorities.

To find out you've been the victim of a scam always sucks. But when you find out you've been a victim ON YOUR BIRTHDAY, it's even worse! I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much. I did research this outfit beforehand, and found nothing indicating fraud. They certainly were quite sophisticated in their presentation.

My husband, bless his heart, tried to make my day a bit brighter. He bought me a birthday cake.

My German Chocolate birthday cake. My hubby had the bakery inscribe on it "Happy Birthday Honey Bunny". It's an inside joke

One year older, ever more wise. Be careful out there.

Which "ism" is on Display at Harvard?

allen keys writes a commentary piece about the criminal debaucle in cambridge, MA involving that wacko harvard "professor" henry gates.

Which 'ism' on display at Harvard arrest?

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bein' a cop is a dangerous job. when you get called to investigate a break-in, you dont know if the suspect is still on the property, if they're armed, etc. in my home city of chicago, cops are slaughtered by gangbangers left and right. almost everyday, some cop gets shot and killed. just leave them alone and let them do their jobs. besides, a black cop accompanied the arresting cop, and the black cop said that the white cop followed procedure to the "T".

i've also heard rumors that the white cop was bugged with a microphone at the time of the arrest! hopefully soon, the audio of the event will be made public so that we know what REALLY happened. but im sure barry will want this hushed up fast, cuz if the audio comes out and it shows that he's wrong, barry will be left with egg on his face.

looks like somebody's got some 'splainin' to do...

tamtam