Engraving courage...

Never allow challenges to break your spirit.  Your challenges may be more shattering than anything you have ever known these days.  Even if you are overwhelmed and do not feel it, believe  you have courage anyway, as your very belief will engrave this deep within you, because we become what we believe.

Appreciating...

As I have often shared in previous blogs, I have been blessed with many who became very dear.  From early childhood, then later when living a nightmare at home, three teachers took my hand pouring their hearts and encouragement into me.  Then, the dear mentor friends who entered my young life, each giving me powerful gifts of learning and love I have passed on here.  And the many dear friends throughout my whole journey since, now including my Twitter family as I had to become homebound in recent years.  And you, my readers.

One gift I had even at a very young age, which yet burns bright, is expressing my gratitude for others.  For you see, we never know which way the wind may blow tomorrow, when we may not get to express our appreciation to those we are grateful for.  

With as many dear to me I have lost along my way, I am so grateful I had nailed down the importance of this at such a young age, by expressing my appreciation to others or telling them what they mean while they are alive to hear me express it.  For what are words of appreciation after one is gone who cannot hear or read them?  And to know how much they mattered?

My dear friend Nora would often say in her speaking engagements concerning this very topic, "Give your flowers of appreciation BEFORE the funeral, not after someone you cared about has gone."🌺

Not long ago a friend of mine came across a very dusty old box filled with letters from the 1870's to 1940's.  We spent hours reading all these treasures,  profoundly moved by them. 

You see there was a common thread running through these letters, by telling others how much they cared, reassurances things would get better, belief in others surmounting situations, and most 

of all, just telling each other how wonderful they are, how appreciated, or loved.

Even if we no longer write letters on paper or send cards these days (though we should), we still can express our gratitude to others on social media, and take the time to tell others what they mean to us.  To thank them for being on the journey of life with us.  Or to just simply express our appreciation for their kindness.  

So many times after I have sent a card or letter, or expressed myself online, I often hear how much 

my words have meant.  For you see sometimes just  knowing one is held in appreciation can mean everything, because we're saying they matter.💫

As I have often expressed here, what remains from all we are is the love we live, dear ones.  Now more than ever, write your flowers of appreciation or love to those who matter to you near or far.  Share your flowers before the hands of time may forever take the chance away.  

For believe me, the treasure will be theirs.  And it will be yours too.🌺💕💫

The Renagade Disaster...

In the horse world there is an old saying that a green horse with a green owner will be a disaster.  For those unfamiliar with equine lingo, the word "green" in this context means untrained and INEXPERIENCE.  And usually, the green owner refuses to (a) admit he/she is green and (b) listen to those with more experience.🙄

Remember Danny?  The guy in my funny blog "Hilarious Southern Charm Story," who tinkered on cars insisting he was a good mechanic when he wasn't, whose brakes went out when I needed a ride as we careened down a steep hill at high speed, driving around the Higgins' driveway loop FIVE times waving and smiling to the Higgins on their veranda without ever stopping because we couldn't?!!  THAT Danny.🤣

As I had shared, just-a-friend Danny and I knew each other because he boarded his horse at the same farm as I did mine.  Now Danny had never owned a horse before, or had experience with horses, only he absolutely refused to admit he was inexperienced, because in HIS eyes, all the westerns he watched as a kid gave him all the learning he would ever need in handling a horse.🤔

Danny found an unbelievable deal on a tiny two year old filly he named Renegade.  We tried to tell him the reason why Renegade was cheap is because she was so young and only "greenbroke," meaning, she accepted a saddle, bridle, and human on her.  And perhaps she had been taught how to go and stop, but Renegade was FAR from being a trained horse.🥴

Another thing about horses, is they know in a heartbeat if their hooman knows what they are doing or not.  If they know their hooman doesn't know a damn thing, they are THRILLED to be able to take advantage of this situation and can do it extremely well.🤣

Immediately after Danny and Renegade came upon the scene the stories began circulating between the rest of us helplessly witnessing this disaster unfolding before our eyes.  There wasn't a thing we could do though, because Danny refused to hear any advice saying, "I know what I'm doing, thank you kindly."🙃

Here are just two incidents of the Danny/Renegade disaster...

If horses think they can get a hooman off their back, they will.  One day Danny and Renegade came charging up the hill full gallop to the barn area.  Only Renegade refused to stop, you see, when Danny pulled the reins 

to stop.  

Oh, this gets worse...

There was this horrid DEEP stink to high heaven sludge "pond" way beyond the barn which once contained hogs.  Renegade charged to the edge of this awful sludge "pond" and slammed to a stop.  Danny went flying over her head right smack into the deep DEEP SLUDGE!  Just covered in it.🤣 

He blamed the bridle.  But it wasn't...the...bridle. 

Next, Danny decided he and Renegade would ride off farm one day with Ben, John, and I riding our horses.  We TRIED to dissuade Danny because we knew this was not going to turn out well.  But Danny wouldn't hear of it.  So off the four of us went.😬

We were headed to the trails.  For a brief stretch we travel on a one lane road then reach an intersection to cross a two lane road leading into town.  The more seasoned horses knew the sounds of traffic, but apparently not Renegade yet.😮

As we began riding across the intersection, a nearby truck backfired.  Renegade took off in terror down the busy two lane road.  We could see Danny holding on, as cars hurried out of the way or stopped, as Renegade flew.  A policeman not thinking, tried to help by squawking his siren, which trust me DID NOT HELP SLOW Renegade down, as he tried to warn motorists 

of the runaway horse and rider.🥴

John, Ben, and I rushed back to the farm to get John's truck and horse van.  I stayed to get their saddles and bridles off their horses, and the bridle off Bashum, fed them, and waited.

This was in the days before cellphones.  Finally the barn phone rang.  It was Danny.

"Awww, Miz Adelaide, I should've listened to all of you!"

"Danny!  Are you and Renegade okay?!!  Ben and John are out looking for you with the truck and horse van!"

"Well, Renegade and I are okay, but we caused a LOT of trouble for people!  The school buses couldn't leave the school because all the Main Street traffic was at a standstill because of us.  Then when Renegade did finally stop, it was at this man's prize rose bushes in full bloom, and I went flying into them and wiped out his bushes, and oh man, is he pissed!  The police aren't happy with me either."😖

"We'll talk about this later.  Where ARE you?"

"In front of the Sheriff's office.  With Renegade."🙄
  
"Be on the watch for the guys looking for you, okay?!!  Call me back in ten minutes.  I'm going to hang up in case the guys call."

They did, and I told them where to find Danny and Renegade.  Ben told me traffic was still snarled.  Then 

a policeman saw them, who promptly escorted them to 

the sheriff's office so they could get the renegade horse and rider who threw the whole town into complete chaos.  And destroyed a poor man's prize rose bushes.

Back in those days, the small town of Wildwood still had its' own newspaper.  Usually, not much happened to report about.  However, "The Renegade Horse And Rider," story with pictures made the front page!🙄

At first the rest of us feared we would no longer have access to the trails via the crossing, but the townspeople realized there had never ever been a problem before in all the years the farm had boarders, so we gratefully were allowed to continue.😃

Danny?  And Renegade? 

Danny was cited for disturbing the peace.  Then of course had to make restitution for the prize roses destroyed.  My fellow boarders and I gave the man honey from the beehives one kept, another a small quilt she made, Ben and John repaired his fence, and I gave him two of my prints.  We happily succeeded with our intent to leave him with a kinder feeling concerning horses and their riders.😃

Danny realized he was crazy and stubborn by thinking anyone could get on any horse and ride just like they did in westerns, and for not listening to us when we tried to help.  He sold Renegade to a fellow boarder, who immediately changed Renegade's name to Star and went on to further train her into a beloved horse her grandchildren rode for many happy years.😃

As far as Danny, he continued to tinker with cars, yet 

we all absolutely avoided letting him ever tinker with OURS...🤣

Doll 101...

Back in 1996 I was asked to take part in a very unique project to help others.  

Serena, a psychologist, had known about me for years, due to the media coverage about my art and The Ride with Patches, my horse.  She had also been hearing about what an inspiring speaker I was too.

Serena was acquainted with my orthopaedic surgeon and one day called him to see if he would tell me about this self esteem project she wanted to conduct.

So I get a call from my orthopaedic surgeon.🙂

"Adelaide, a psychologist I know wanted me to see if you could take part in some kind of self esteem doll making project for women with self esteem issues, and no, not because YOU need help in this area, but because she strongly feels your presence will benefit these women in ways she can't."

"A doll?!!  What kind of a doll?"🤔

"I don't know.  But knowing you and knowing how you and your friend have been successfully speaking at the Women's Prison, I think you would have a huge impact.  Her name is Serena, and she can explain it all to you.  By the way, I think you'd be a very cute little doll."🤣

So I spoke to Serena.  She felt since I attained all I did and was doing in MY body, I could have an impact on the women struggling with self esteem, who were insecure and unhappy because they focused on perceived things wrong with their bodies which inhibited them.  Some seriously.

The doll.  Over three days we all, Serena and I too, would be making life-size three dimensional dolls of ourselves taken from our exact measurements...head to toe.

"Uh, and then what?"🤔

"Focus on reshifting the negative self image these ladies have of themselves into positive ones.  And to help them begin to learn to accept and embrace their bodies."

Serena received a small grant to do this project.  She had to spend a large amount of the grant for the supplies and refreshments needed, yet was trying to still give me a stipend for my time.  Since I happened to be free the weekend this would be, I waived the stipend.  Like how many opportunities does one ever get to make a life-size doll of themselves anyway?🤣

Nine ladies in addition to Serena and I were there.  As we began to introduce ourselves, all the ladies blurted out, "YOU'RE THE PATCHES LADY!"  They all had followed our story during The Ride saga, and knew me as everyone did, by my horse Patches' name because no one could remember my name.  I was touched.😃  

Then each of them shared their stories and reasons for being there.  One lady was struggling to overcome being bulimic; two others were overweight; one had a problem with aging; another had a problem with being too short but just simply meeting me already had a positive effect she said; one had a liver transplant a few years earlier but was struggling with how the anti-rejection drugs changed her appearance; another was struggling with how the chemo treatments she was getting had made her look; and one was just very insecure and had never felt good about herself.😪

The time came for us all to begin making a doll of ourselves.  We were asked to choose partners, and immediately they all asked to be mine.  So we worked out a way for me to be a partner with each lady through the three days of the project.  

First we had to measure each other from head to toe.  Then as one lay on sheets of newsprint paper, another drew their outline to make a pattern to be pinned on muslin and cut out.  By the end of our first day, arms, legs, torsos, heads, hands, and feet were strewn everywhere.

The next day the sewing by hand process began by bringing all the body parts together to be filled with stuffing to make our dolls three dimensional.  As we sewed, there was some very serious talk, as Serena 

and I spent time individually with each lady.  They each were especially keen to know how I got to be where I was/am in accepting myself even with the constant mean ridicule I live with each day.  

I shared how my mentor friend Joseph had me make a "Dwarf Card," and the huge effect it had upon my young life.  Then striving to focus upon the positives and not the negatives by having a gratitude attitude.  

One of my many sayings they each very touchingly scrolled onto their dolls was, "We cannot get anywhere by remaining where we are.  That we have to WANT to ignite our inner spark into flames...and KEEP it burning bright by not giving others or the negative part of our inner self the power to extinguish our spark."

I also gave them a list of the books which had also made a huge difference in my young life.  They all, including Serena, wrote down everything I shared.  Because Serena was privately counseling the ladies, I had given them ways they could begin attaining self acceptance by working together with her. 

The third day we had fully completed our dolls and dressed them with clothes we brought.  Then placed them in chairs across from each of us.  There was a long silence.  Serena asked me first about the thoughts I had.

My very glorious inspiring first thought to share with them upon seeing my exact 3-D replica was this:

"Ohhh SHIT, Adelaide!  You really ARE a DWARF!"  

Yet I suddenly realized how much self acceptance I had been blessed to attain with my journey and SO grateful I could, because there had been a time in my young life when seeing my exact image in 3-D form across from me would have been horribly difficult.😖

Every lady was forced to see themselves in a whole 

new way.  Yet in a way which began a brand new journey of self acceptance and self esteem for each one of them.  Their lives were forever changed.💥

So what happened to my life-sized doll replica?  

Well, after a few years she began terribly "aging" by graying and losing much of her "innards" as I did too with additional surgery for cancer, then followed by two emergency abdominal surgeries needed to keep me alive longer.  

Then, when a theatre really needed my talents I moved, and the poor doll got stuffed into my car trunk, but she kept scaring the hell out of people whenever I opened it you see, because they assumed the doll was a REAL human.😱

Finally, the time had come to bid my dear rapidly deteriorating doll replica goodbye before I got arrested for having a body in my trunk, so I had to send her remains off in these nice, very dignified black trash bags though she would always hold a special place within my galloping journey.🤣💫

You would not believe...

So I was in the city of Lexington recently to see one of my doctors for us to determine how alive I still am, and must use the restroom often.  Which then brings us to the paper towel dispensers found in public bathrooms.  You know, the one with the magic sensors which release a section of paper towel?  That is, assuming 

of course, one is tall enough for the sensor to recognize there is a hooman down here.🙄

At this point one has three options:

1.  Not wash hands  (NO WAY!)

2.  Wash hands and leave dripping (then quickly assure the doctor who warmly grabs your hand to greet you it's not pee making it wet)😂

3.  Do the Adelaide Dance👇

The Adelaide Dance involves one having the ability 

to execute some serious dance moves because the outcome is very important here.  While raising both arms in the air and waving them, dance wildly.  Move 

to the left.  Move to the right.  Close in on the sensor.  Back away.  Do a spin.  Jump up and down.  Repeat 

as necessary.  Usually successful, however this 

process will not work if one begins laughing.🤣

Now then, Public Toilets.  You know, the toilets that are as high as the sky?!!  I am not kidding here folks, they nearly come up to my chest!😱

I have heard from other Little People some face these and climb on as one would climb a mountain.  But Public Toilets are very seldom clean ones.  NO WAY would I ever put my hands and clothing all over one to climb on like a mountain.🥴

So the only other alternative is to hopefully be a athletic Little Person capable of leaping from a car 
hood to the backs of her horses...only instead of leaping forwards, performing the hopping high to the sky leap of faith...BACKwards.🙃

Quite often this endeavor can be successful, however 

I imagine most of you probably do not realize just how large those seat openings are, do you?  Well I do, because those openings come close to swallowing 

your Adelaide right up.  Rather...down...I mean.  Not good, not good.  Especially if the seat is slippery and the toilet paper dispenser one grabs just before sliding into the abyss comes off the wall.🥴

Thankfully nowadays an ingenious item got created.  It's a easy to carry with a handle fold up step stool made now which I am never without when in public.  However it doesn't help with motion sensors.😱

Now we come to automatic doors.  Automatic doors come with sensors too, with serious design flaws failing to recognize there is a hooman down here with the intent to get in or out.  So they refuse to open.  

Discreetly trying to be recognized by these never works.  And usually these doors have huge lobbies nearby where lots of people are seated thus providing the hooman with an audience who are very quick to take notice of the free entertainment being provided 

for them while they are waiting for whatever they are waiting for.  Trust me, few ever get up to actually 

assist the damsel in distress desperately trying to 

get in or out because apparently they prefer the free entertainment option instead.  Even whipping out their cellphones to share with the world.🙄  

So at this point, one has three options:

1.  Scream and use swear words (NO WAY!  Not becoming if an audience is present!)😱

2.  Wait (if one does not have a plane to catch) for someone to come along going through the same doors

3.  Do a different version of the Adelaide Dance than the one reserved for Paper Towel sensors👇

This version of the Adelaide Dance became created when I discovered where many automatic door sensors are located, which is way higher than I am off to the right or left side.🙃

For this version of the Adelaide Dance one must execute some very good leaping high moves and waving ones arms about facing to the right.  If this 

isn't successful it could either mean one failed to leap high enough, or wave correctly, or one needs to face left because the sensor is on the left rather than the right, then repeat the Dance.😂

If the Adelaide Dance fails and one has either a plane to catch, or is in need of a restroom facility very quickly, try doing #2 because eventually someone will come along going the way you are, allowing you to catch a ride on their height ability which activates the door sensor.  Should they become aware their height ability to open the door is being used, thank them.😃👏

This actually happened to me once catching a flight to Seattle, and the man whose height ability I needed and thanked him for in Chicago, wound up not only on the same flight, but was seated next to me!  We had a very delightful visit in which we soon discovered we both happened to own and gallop on horses, only he was an equestrian you see, then...wait for it...

"HOW do you get ON your horses?!!"😂

So my dear ones, should you come across a height compromised hooman wildly dancing and waving before anything with a motion sensor, please kindly offer to extend your height abilities to assist them and know you are doing them a great service...😃

The breath of kindness...

A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, 

knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift 

it, keep what is worth keeping, and with the breath 

of kindness, blow the rest away.

                                          

                                    ~Arabian Proverb

Naming the disease...

There has been a reason why I refer to my spinal cord inflammation disease as that and not in more detail than what is officially happening within my spinal cord, because it is so complicated.  Also scary for those who care and I care about not wanting to burden those who care.

Yet I daresay for this blog as a whole, I need to open another window as I did previously about what my days are currently.  So I will share in medical detail what exactly my spinal cord inflammation disease is so it is explained...

First, due to not having cartilage between my vertebra this alone has compromised my spinal cord, besides severe curvature of my spine.  Surgeries were needed as bone was pressing in on my spinal cord causing pain and nerve damage to my bladder.  One spine surgery turned into seven.  Three of them to remove adhesions also pressing in on my spinal cord from the first four spine surgeries. 

During the 1980's I had four myelograms.  This is a diagnostic procedure used by my neurosurgeons and orthopaedic surgeons together.  An oil based dye was injected directly into my spinal cord as I lay on a movable X-ray table.  No sedation could be used as my team needed me alert.  The table was then moved so the dye could be moved and viewed within my spinal cord, so my team could have a better understanding of how bad the worse things were and where.

The plan was to then extract the dye from my spinal cord, only when this was attempted, my arms and legs

violently went out of control thrashing about.  Again and again.  This was dangerous and absolutely terrifying, 

for me and my teams.  So the dye had to be left in.

The problem with this is I had FOUR myelograms during the 1980's...two of them from my neck to L-5, the whole length of my spinal cord.  The dye in its entirety had to be left inside all four times.  A massive amount.

By the late 1980's it was discovered the oil in the dye was causing horrific problems within spinal cords.  Even the majority of cases where the dye could be extracted (since then, the dye is no longer oil based).

Within our spinal cords we have what are known as arachnoids...these are the network of nerves which resemble spider webs, hence the name.  The oil severely inflames these.  In my case since so much inflammation was already happening within my spinal cord from my dwarfism and the trauma of seven spine surgeries and this was then met with the massive amount of oil, it was best described by my Johns-Hopkins neurosurgeon as being an atom bomb detonated within my spinal cord, unleashing a severe inflammation explosion ever moving upwards causing shutdown. 

This not only causes excruciating pain that never ends, but the worsening nerve damage to my legs, urinary and digestive tracts.  There is nothing that can be done.  In recent years I had to begin using a walker, which I must use when I leave home.  I cannot stand long and fall down a lot.  It's hard to believe how I spent decades galloping on all my horses bareback now.

Because my bladder and colon are failing I also live with the infections and intense nausea as touched on already.

I am beginning to have shortness of breath.  The severe inflammation will next begin affecting my respiratory system.  My doctors and I have long known this would

all eventually happen when I was handed this at the age of thirty-four.  They did however, expect me to be where I am now, or worse, ten to twenty years earlier than this, so my being as physically active as I have been, besides my indomitable spirit has given me far more time.  Perhaps so I could finally begin putting into writing here what I was either speaking about or telling funny stories about as I promised I would do someday.🐎💫

Some would feel cheated but I focus on my glass as being full and not empty...for my glass has been, and remains, full.  I have been blessed to do a thousand things many non height challenged people have never done or experienced.

My dear ones, now you may understand why I have kept my inflammation disease within my spinal cord as just that, because it involves so much more.

So for today, I have opened the window on this.

Know I remain very blessed.

How grateful I am for each of you...🐎💫