An Orthodox Jew and A Hooker Walk Into A Hotel Lobby…

Just for fun. If you don’t read the Hook’s blog, you should.

You've Been Hooked!

What do you get when you mix a crimson-locked whore clad in full Catholic schoolgirl regalia, an Orthodox Jew who turned a corner during filming of Fiddler on the Roof and found himself in modern-day Niagara Falls, and a fearless veteran bellman?

Read on and you’ll find out.

OJ:  (Approaching my desk, wearing a full smile and an outfit as black as the ace of spades.)  Hello, my young friend! I require your services to transport my bags to my room! What are you doing anyway?

THE HOOK:  Oh, just pondering my next blog post… (to which I added, under my breath), which I’m sure you’re about to figure into.

It was at that precise moment that the strumpet in question, lost to the outside world, stumbled through the lobby from our guest rooms, definitely worse for the wear. She was of medium height and build with flaming red…

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The Bionic Woman


Today I get to start the real drug with the clinical trial. I’m excited because I think I’ve been on a placebo for the past few years. Guess I’ll find out soon if I feel any different.

So, as part of this trial every few months I have the full work up, 2 neurologists, like 12 vials of blood taken, my 2 hour infusion, etc. I also have to walk…

So, I’m supposed to walk 20 feet (with a walker), and then I’m supposed to walk any distance for 6 minutes. I couldn’t do either today. Not even 20 feet! It sucks. I tried, but only made it about 13 feet before I had to sit.

I think I’m just having a weak day, in general, but the other part of the problem is spasticity. If you aren’t familiar with that term, it is basically when the muscles override the brain.


A medicine which helps this is called Baclofen. So, I take this in pill form, but today they talked to me about a baclofen pump. It would be surgically implanted in my lower abdomen/side, and a catheter connects it directly to the spinal cord.

It is programmable, so it could deliver more medicine at night, or in the morning, or whatever. Since it goes directly to the spinal cord, drowsiness, and some of the other side effects are minimized.

I’m not sure if I’ll do it or not. They will do a 4 hour test thing similar to a spinal tap, to see how I’d do with it before I schedule surgery.

Anyway, all that to ask:

I already use wheels for legs.
I work out by shocking my muscles with my ems.
I use braces/splints to stretch.
My hip is metal, plastic, and bone.

At what point do I become more machine than human, and doesn’t that make me some kind of superhero?

I’ve got to think of a catchy hero name…

Rolled coaster

Roller coasters should be fun.

Except when they are in your head.

In your heart, in your mind.

They’re nauseating.

I want the highs and lows to stop.

Let me off this ride!

Okay, what can I do?

Hmmm…music helps, weed helps, writing helps, friends help. Please help me.

Bedtime Stories: Pirates


Mom, he won’t leave us alone!

What’s he doing?

He’s messing with our boat!

The swing boat? I see.

We told him to stop, but he won’t listen.

Oh no…sounds like you have a pirate problem.

Will you tell him to stop?

I need a little more information first. Does he have both legs?

Duh! Mommmm…

Is he wearing an eye patch?

Mom stop, he isn’t a pirate.

Well then, I’ll just let you two sort it out.

Okay, okay, he’s a pirate, will you tell him to stop?

uh oh,
this might be a problem…

What? What now?

Pirates don’t listen to their mommies.

Confidently Broken


My husband and I were talking the other day, and he mentioned that several positive experiences we have had within the past few years were an indirect of the confidence I’ve gained since being in a wheelchair.

Wait, confidence, from being in a wheelchair?

I had to think about it. I’ve always been insecure/low self-esteem/whatever.

When I first started needing assistance walking, it was difficult…ok, devastating. I cried a lot. I hated walking across an open room. I held on to walls for balance. I tried using a cane, but never was very good at it. Finally, I began to accept the fact that I needed a wheelchair.

When I first started using a wheelchair, I was a little self-conscious, but the ability to go from one side of my kids school to the other was nice. I didn’t have to constantly plan where I would sit, that was close to a wall, and not in everyone’s way. I didn’t worry about the amount of time it would take to hobble to the restrooms at church. Wheelchairs are a lot faster.

I started taking my kids on “walks” once we got a ramp and I could bring my powerchair outdoors. We went everywhere. We still do. 🙂

I used to walk, run, slide down the banister at college, literally walked about 4 miles when I couldn’t get a ride to work one day…

Thing is, I’ve always been independent, but maybe I am more confident since being in the chair. I still have all my old insecurities, plus some new ones (atrophy, bladder issues, etc.); but I know I can survive.

I know that there will always be people “better” in some way. That’s true for all of us. I know that I’m capable of more than I would have imagined. So are you. I know that regardless of how much makeup I put on, how much I tone my abs, and how cute my hair is; I’m still in a wheelchair and you know what? That’s okay.

I still have lots of bad days, and plenty of pity parties, but could it be that I am stronger now than I was before I became disabled? I’m starting to think so. Hopefully I can dance while rolling down the street and show people you don’t have to be “perfect” to be happy. Hopefully I can show my kids that life is to be lived for all of us. Broken bodies don’t have to equate to broken spirits.

Today I’m going to live. I’m going to “walk” the dogs to my kids school. I’m going to breathe the fresh spring air and wave at strangers, and maybe even try a few dance moves.

Hope you live today too.


I’m not sure what exactly this is, but this morning I felt good. Happy, for no reason. If any of you were writing that, I’d say that is a good thing, but with me, I’m not sure.

I don’t typically get happy. I’m more of a somber person in general. Always have been, which is why I noticed it was weird that I was happy. There is a possibility I’m over-thinking this, but what should I do? I took my kids to school and have accomplished some stuff, but I’m scared.

If I was happy for no reason, does that mean soon I’m going to be more depressed, emotional, angry for no reason? I don’t understand what would make me feel happy. I mean, life is good. I know that, but I don’t usually feel it. This is stupid to be writing about. I know that much, but I don’t care.

Anyway, I don’t know what I’m doing. Sorry for this post, I wont blame anyone for unfollowing me. It’s just weird. I’m concerned my hormones are out of whack, or something’s off, but maybe it’s normal. Do people wake up and move around and feel happy for no particular reason?

Truly Naked and Afraid


Simple four letter word.

Powerful aphrodisiac and repellant at the same time.

Teenage fantasy, elderly heartbreaker.

Songs proclaim it, flowers display it, some of us fear it…

Beautiful surrender, or violent takeover; it comes to conquer, and that it does.

I began to prepare when I learned of love’s true nature. I built walls and armored myself. I waited and in doing so, my defenses rusted. It invaded, captured my heart, altered my life, and now keeps me chained.

I’m chained to a fairy tale wish of happily ever after. Bound by unfathomable love for my kids. Desperately clinging to my husband’s love, while every ounce of my strength pushes him away.

I don’t want him to love me, yet I do. I don’t trust love. It is often pity in disguise. I hate it. I don’t know how to handle it, navigate it, express it. I want to escape it. Life would be simpler. Happier? I don’t deserve love. It is destroying me. Or is it the fight that’s causing my ruin? I feel trapped and lost at the same time.

Is this all in my head? Over thinking again? It’s exhausting, and I’m losing whatever I’m trying to hold on to.i don’t even know what that is anymore. Does anyone else feel these things? I’m bringing a whole new meaning to “naked and afraid”. Honesty, openness, is true nudity, and it appears I’m leading the club. Anyone following should know that I have no idea where I’m going.