Tuesday, February 28, 2017


When I was a short little wee one ( sort of still am at 5'2"),  the Ukrainian/Russian/Polish side of my family were convinced that I was an old soul.   You would think that would be a respectful thing but, instead, they simply found me entertaining.  I was a talker from an early age and  I would talk to them about things that , for whatever reason, made sense to my little self.  They would pat me on the head, give me some coins for the penny candy store, and a dollar or two for cigarettes. (Back then, at 5 , you could buy beer and cigs for your family as long as you had a note written on any sort of scrap paper. I was always off to the corner store for my aunties.

   My Grandfather used to come in and just look at me.   He was the one that "knew" me.  Taught me how to talk to squirrels.   I was 8ish when he died.   He came to me -  right after he passed.   I remember it clearly.   He was in my room and said, "tell everyone that I'm well"   (translated.  but that was the gist)      I tried to tell my parents.   They scolded me and sent me back to my room.     But I knew it was real.   And it was mine to keep.

So!  as the years went on, I had this "thing".  I had dreams, premonitions, "knowings".  

As this blog goes on, I'll put more out there.  But for tonight, it's this link.  (my links will always be odd, but I'm putting them out there because -  well ..... why not?   And, I can!.


If you're here and reading -    "hello to you"  


Friday, February 17, 2017

Overview of this week's segment of "Ronni's Big Adventure"

The week of wandering the health care maze has come to a close and I am absolutely exhausted.   I don't think I realized how tightly wound with worry and nervousness I was until I got home this afternoon and collapsed on the couch.

Early in the week I saw the psych dr. who is in charge of my meds for the panic attacks.  I've had them since I was  a child (childhood ptsd -   my entire childhood is a blank).   I was coping somewhat ok the past years but when the news of the liver failure came in Nov. 2015, that took the panic up a number of notches.  The fighting the foreclosure of the house added a few more notches.  Long story.  Not for today.    Anyway, I don't like taking any sort of drug as a general rule, but with the liver as it is I'm even less willing.  So, we decided to stay on a low dose of Valium as needed (2.5) and ride it out until I saw the new hepatologist.   So, that was easy.

Next appt was with the psychologist that is working with me for the childhood stuff and how it's affecting me in adulthood.   Powerful session.   Love this woman.   She's helping quite a bit to keep me centered and to move forward. 

Today's appointment was the big one.  For the past year I have been so poorly managed by the gastro dr. that was supposed to be overseeing my liver failure situation.  Absolutely the worst.  He's "THE" guy for all of the suburban folks.  He's like a celebrity.  Impossible to get to see him.  So my hospice team suggested Dr. Anthony Martinez who is an actual hepatologist, not a gastro guy with a minor in liver.

9:40 am he walks through the door.  (i had already been seen by his partner dr. who took a great deal of info.  Very thorough.   So he walks in, handsome in a kind casual almost unkempt way.  No dr's coat.  Just jeans and a comfy shirt that I think he may have pulled out of the clothes hamper on his way out the door.   He crossed the room, arm outstretched, we shake hands and he says,
"Hey - hi.  I'm Tony".    It was everything I could to to keep from cracking up because I felt like I was in an episode of ER.   He was like a made up character.     Loved him immediately.

He says so, let's get rollin' and we're going to do good things together , ok?      He notices that I have my notebook on the table with all of my scribbled questions and points that I want to explore.  Instead of waiting for me to start asking things, he grabs the notebook and says, " ok - here we go!"
He begins going through the list and answering everything.  Told me to jump in if i needed to add anything.   Everything he said was logical, honest, straight-forward and he was able to sum things up in moments.  I could see his brain working on all levels.

We got through all of that and I felt I had some great info to work with.  I then told him that my main focus was to get a really good status of where the liver stands at this point.   Told him that according to the previous guy, I shouldn't be here right now, that I only had about 10% of the liver left and that my MELD number was really high and in the transplant realm if I lasted long enough to even get there.    (Model for Endstage Liver Disease).

I think if my previous dr had been anywhere on that floor, Tony would have gone out there and punched him in the face and walked away.   He was furious.  He said that from here on in I am to stop thinking about 10%.   He said it was old school thinking and that certainly,  the majority of my liver is not longer working and never will and I'm past the point of regeneratio,  but what's left can learn to do some new things.  Not always, but it's possible.   So he ordered a full blood work up for everything under the sun.  My other drs have never checked for 3/4 of the things he's looking for.  He added checks for cancer markers that he said should have been one of the first things to be done.  I've only been checked for one which is flagged and needs to be watched.  We're going to recalculate the MELD score based on the test results and see where we stand.  I was told it can't change in my condition via the other doc.  Tony said that's bullshit.     He also said that after blood work and the new sonogram he'll have a better picture and then we can talk "time on earth" stuff.  However, the problem still exists that a bleed out of any kind internally or an infection or my ammonia levels spiking can kill me pretty quickly   That he has no control over.    That's what actually ends up being the reason people with end stage liver disease die.

So, to sum it up -  I now have a fabulous hospice team, a med dr. that is finally listening to me, a psychologist who is absolutely fantastic, and a liver specialist that actually knows what he's doing and is dedicated to keeping me going awhile longer.   I have given permission for all of them to share all info with each other and that pleased them all.   (a lot of people won't do that when psych stuff is involved)   And, if it does turn out that a transplant is my last option, every single one in this group has said they will fight to get me on the list if my body qualifies for it.

I'm exhausted but will sleep a little better tonight.  Next week we tackle the house foreclosure situation and the utilities.  SSI has still not gone through so I'm being creative with the $280 a month.  Once SSI comes through (it still might get denied and my legal aid lawyer will just appeal it again.  He seems fairly confident it will eventually, but it takes so long!)  I'll be in a safe zone and then can just concentrate on my health.

All in all, a week that brought a bit of peace.  Doesn't change the condition, but at least I know I'll now be well managed and there's hope for being around a bit.   I sure don't want to miss the Trump Meltdown.

For those who have been thinking about me, thank you from my heart.   I truly believe that it makes a difference.  God bless and goodnight.   I think I might even skip catching up on news.  My best to everyone.  

PS:  if you respond by email, please leave an email address where I can reach you.
(I'll eventually add disqus but just haven't time to sit down and figure it out yet)

Thursday, February 9, 2017


I refer to this experience as "that thing in '92".   A very bland and casual phrasing for something so profound.  It's not been shared with a lot of people because I'm well aware of the possible reactions.  But I feel like I want to share it openly now.   I'm doing a cut and paste so some of the formatting might be off but I'll try to get it in order in the next day or two.  Too tired to do that now.    So, for the first time ever, being introduced to a wide audience, I give you "that thing in '92" -  the experience that changed me.  


In 1992 I woke sometime after midnight upon "hearing" my name  called.  I sat up in bed, quite fully awake, but, for some reason, did not get out of bed to   check my children.  A very odd thing for me not to do.  Instead, I sat there for a minute or two at which time a white mist   began to gather at the base of my bed.  The white of this mist had a quality that defies a  true description,  but one aspect that it was a very very strong and that it was a living light.  

 There was a consciousness of some sort attached to it . The best I can tell, the  communication that began to come into my head eminated from it or, at the very least, was filtered   through it.  At first it was a quiet presence, and calming. but then I began to get a much clearer sense of a "speaking"The communication was broad and involved.  I was told many things  and , at the time, understood the concepts somewhat fully (though I also recognized I   was limited )  After some amount of time (lord only knows how long - there seemed to be   a suspension of that sort of measurement) the mist traveled from the base of my bed  
over to the left of me and began to widen and lengthen - almost flattening out, in a   way.   It began to take on a rectangular shape, more long than wide, and the mist began to morph   into threads.  Seemingly millions of them, all interwoven.  The most fine, delicate threads   I have ever seen, woven into the tightest, most intricate pattern.  It was looking at an incredibly beautiful but also powerful and intense linen cloth.  Each thread pulsed with the same sort of life that I had felt from the mist.  A whiteness and a light that is indescribable.  Once the pattern was complete the communication stepped up in intensity and flow.  Soooooo many things were being put into my mind, as if downloading.  I can't begin to tell you how fast and furious it was and   how mind blowing (ha) , almost literally, it was.  At first I attempted to actually store the info  
consciously but was told by a calm voice that I would be able to understand and make use of it when it me time for it to be needed.  I knew very clearly that this was meant when I needed it  personally but also forglobal reasons.  One thing that I do remember is that I was told that the symbol of this linen pointed to the fabric that consciousness on all dimensions existed upon and within.  Everything touches everything and resonates throughout.  The light was love  but not warm fuzzy Hallmark nonsense or even familial love.  It is a force that is beyond all other forces and is so completely beyond our minds at this time.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was simply..... Gone.  I  felt the room take on a different feel as if gravity and time came back with a thud.  Like something shifted.  Sort of like coming outof salt water and back onto land. (weak analogy)

 I sat there in the same position for a few moments but then became  incredibly tired.  It was not any sort of normal tired.  It was like being drugged.  I heard a   voice tell me to lay down again and I did.  I began to drift off, trying to put things in order before I fell entirely asleep when, suddenly, a burst of heated incense was forced into my right nostril.  It was as if someone forced a billow full of church incense into my head.  I immediately snapped awake  yelling, "What the $*&@! was that!?"and before the words were out of my mouth it happened again in my  left nostril.
> At this point I was up and pacing and continued to do so until  
> morning.  It took a few days to
> calm down.   Things eventually went back to normal, in a way. 
> Soon after however, I noticed that my dreaming was taking on a new  
> dimension.  I had always
> been a lucid dreamer but this....this was different.   I began to  
> meet messengers.  Spirit beings would come
> to tell me things.  I was being shown astral maps. I was being  
> taught things - sometimes in a classroom,
> sometimes on a ship, sometimes in a small one room churchlike  
> place.   Sometimes I would see the
> visitors, sometimes I would only hear them.  I began to know things  
> ahead of time -  earthquakes,
> sicknesses, deaths, emergencies, etc.  I would have dreams of being in
>someone's body and become one with them in a way, and I would know
>where their sickness was.  I could also feel it.  And this would be with people
>that I didn't necessarily know directly, and also before they knew themselves
>that they were ill.  I began to feel people  

> intensely.   I could no longer be in
> groups because I could feel too much. (I've had a terrible time with groups of
>people since I was a child, but this took things to a new level.   I became incredibly aware of  

> the destruction of the planet and
> the horrific damaging way we were living, outwardly and  
> inwardly.  I became sickenly aware of the
> lack of connection to spirit and love.  I began to have waking  
> visions of destruction. Also visions of 3-D geometric designs.   I started
> receiving teachings about traveling within different dimensions.  I  
> have out of body experiences
> and, what seems like, a type of time travel.  I feel like an  
> entirely changed person.  My brain works differently.  I feel things differently.
>I can feel the earth.  Hear it.  The pulse of life in everything is so intense, the positive but
>also the negative.  My body resonates.   And with the premonitions, I don't always know
>something before it happens, but when I do, it's never wrong.   There's much more to this but
>this is the beginning of everything.

So that's '92.   The next post will be a message dream I had when I was 8-9 years old.  I guess it was like
the movie trailer to '92.  
Feel free to send email if you have a story to share that you don't want to share here, or if you're having
trouble with this comment system.   I haven't gotten to even looking further into disqus.