Why does it have to be a fire that reminds you to think about what is important?

I have 100% decided that there is not enough time to do everything I want to do. There is no time to write the beautifully insightful screenplay that changes a generation (I’d settle for changing someone’s outlook on their life during a hard time, but I’m trying to think confidently), there is no time to learn how to knit mittens or plan a backpacking trip through some foreign country, there is no time to level up my D&D character or listen to the 6yo try to remember something he forgot just a second ago but was really important…really…and don’t even think about having time to learn all the things I need to learn in order to know all I need to know.

I might be a little frustrated. (Not much new there.)

Last week I had a few days off to look after the boys before their day care kicked in for the summer. It was lovely. I had big plans. I scheduled appointments and play dates and intended to write the three or four scenes that have been running around in my head…I was going to do the laundry and correspond, catch up on all the bills and maybe knit a hat…instead I just spent a lot of money and got fat because I discovered that dark chocolate covered salted almonds are the best food on the planet.

When I was still seeing a head doctor (the one I liked before I saw the one I didn’t really like but who took my insurance) she told me that I should water what I wanted to grow. Of course, she was speaking metaphorically about putting effort into the things I wanted to be good at and wanted to progress and prosper and all that. Problem is I want everything to grow, and it is really no use using a gardening metaphor for my life because everyone knows I kill plants regardless of my intentions and don’t like dirt on account of the worms.

A friend of mine was recently asked to evacuate her house because of a forest fire dubbed ‘the most destructive in the state’s history.’ ‘You know in an instant what is important to you,’ she told me yesterday. Tears well up in my eyes just at the thought. Well, I do, but I don’t, no I do, don’t I?…isn’t that the struggle I’ve been having for the last year and a half? She said she thought she would be very practical if it came down to it, that the things she would take would be clothes and important papers and things like that. She did gather up all the important papers but the things she needed to save were the irreplaceable things…the projects her kids had made, photographs and family albums. She did throw in a pair of shoes as well…I didn’t ask her what type. Her daughter packed up six bags worth of stuffed animals, ‘didn’t care a thing about clothes.’ I imagine the boys doing something similar…though with books and legos, maybe the PSP. I think the fire is somewhat contained now, at least my friend’s house is out of the immediate danger area now but everything is still packed in her car…just in case.

I can imagine I would be too quick to unpack either.

It did make me think of what was important…what I would bring if I needed to pack up and leave. My laptop is kinda a freebie (other than the kids, obviously, and the cat), as it has all the good stuff on it. I’ve previously discussed my unhealthy need to carry around all those other things I ‘might need,’ so I’ve got a lot of the everyday emergency covered already. The only other things that come to mind: the boy’s hand-made mother’s day cards, the little Liverpool kits they wore when they were babies, my Grandpa’s WWII jacket, my Grandmother’s knitting needles, and the letters my husband and I sent to each other during and after university…I can’t tell you exactly where they are right now.

Maybe I should find them?

Drempt in color (Small post. No purpose…except it made me smile.)

I keep wanting to give up on color, to fall into the black and white and grey of shape and form.

 

Unfortunately, I keep dreaming in color.

 

And every time I close my eyes, I end up dreaming.

xb.

 

 

Small things of habit and comfort

I am a creature of (crazy?) (insane?) habit.  As I’m trying to pay attention, I am noticing these things.  Things like:

…carrying the 300 page manuscript around even though I know I won’t be able to work on it;

…always parking in the same parking spot.  (Sometimes I do change it, but even when I do change, I seem to make sure it is the furthest one in the row…preferably next to a curb);

 …driving with the window down and the heater on full;

…waiting to the last minute to turn things in or buy presents for people, even when I know the deadline is coming up.

My cat is a creature of habit as well.  She stands outside the bathroom when I take a shower and when I open the door she meows at me.  Then she turns around and stretches, waiting for me to pull her tail.  After I do this, she goes to her scratching post and scratches it before sitting down to watch me running around like a crazy person trying to find things that I can’t find because it’s not like I didn’t know that the morning was coming or anything.

The last two mornings someone has parked in my spot.  We now have to park (because of construction) in what some call the lower forty and some call New Mexico.  It’s not so bad except it’s up hill at the end of the day and it’s about three times as far as I used to have to park.  I have claimed my spot with the oil stain drip mark my car leaves, so I thought people would leave it alone.  But as we all have to fight for a space now or park even further away and take the shuttle, I guess I should have put a sign up…’UNDEAD ONLY’ or something…’BACK OFF, THIS IS MY SPOT AND I DON’T LIKE CHANGE’…’DRIVER SLIGHTLY CRAZY AND CAN’T REMEMBER FROM DAY TO DAY WHERE SHE PARKS HER CAR, SO CONSISTENCY IS BETTER’?   

This morning the same someone was in my spot before me.  They had parked over the line, taking up two spaces so I couldn’t even park next to it, which was very rude.  Got me to thinking again how the smallest, thoughtless act…the insane habit stuff that you don’t think about…can effect others around you.  The acts that I derive unconscious comfort from, could be driving someone else up the wall.  The acts I don’t think about, could be upsetting someone else’s unconscious comfort…maybe I didn’t see the sign that said ‘THIS PARKING SPOT IN THE LOWER FORTY IS FOR THE LITTLE GOLD PICK-UP…DRIVER IN A HURRY, COS THEY DO REALLY IMPORTANT BIG THINGS ALL DAY AND CAN’T BE BOTHERED ABOUT THE SMALL THINGS.’

…Maybe…

All I do are small things, but when you can’t make the big things change, the small things count. 

I was pleased to see there was a notice on the windshield of the little gold pick-up for being inconsiderate and parking in two places…kinda went out of my way to see it and giggle a bit.  Then I carried in my 300 page manuscript the ¼ mile to work, not because I will be able to work on it, but because I found I couldn’t leave it in the car.

Small things can be a world of comfort.

Like the way my cat shouts at me, meowing a little cat cry like she is sooooo hungry when I haven’t feed her yet.  Then, when I do feed her, she pauses and lifts her head to let me pet her before she eats… 

Small things can make a world of diference.

xb.

Nine pictures…spring snow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The blue sports car and the snow plow

Sunday I cried. 

I didn’t mean to.  It kind of snuck up on me a little and surprised me.  All together, I am kind of upset about the whole episode…if I hadn’t cried again yesterday, I would have brushed it off and not thought about it and everything would have been fine.  Now it feels like a pattern and that means no brushing off…instead I have to deal with it.

I don’t know how to, but I am not sure when that has ever stopped me before.

I cried Sunday because suddenly I didn’t know how to keep everyone safe.  I think what tipped it off was the news that there was a shooting in a park that I have walked through several times, and more disturbingly, taken the boys to. 

The very news was upsetting, but also coincidentally important because I very recently got the chance to meet and shake hands with (read hug…dunno how to shake hands with someone but to say hug straight off just sounds creepy) someone who lived through one of the deadliest school shootings in American history.  I wish I could say more about this person and our meeting because they are/it was absolutely amazing.  They had the most brilliant attitude and grace and kindness despite the things they’ve seen and been through. 

Saturday was the 14^th anniversary of that shooting and once again, if all of this was a book, the coincidence would be too much to be believable.  I swear I don’t make these things up though.

I’m not making up either, that the next day (Monday morning) I was driving to work and passed a beautiful, shiny, expensive looking 3000GT ?? something or other in the ditch at the side of the road. 

It was sunny and light (but not too bright); there was no snow on the ground or ice.  There was no glare or a whole lot of traffic…but the car was in the ditch.

I thought how awful that person must have felt afterward.  I wondered if they had been texting or if they thought someone was getting too close to their beautiful car and over-reacted, swerving out of the way.  I thought about how they must have thought their life was going pretty well to afford a shiny, expensive car like that…and then they ended up in a ditch.

Thinking about it, I guess there are all sorts of things that could have happened.  It could have happened the night before or the car could have been stolen by joy riders or something…the driver could have had a heart attack or…been texting…regardless, a car like that doesn’t get out of a ditch like that without serious damage.

My car on the other hand? 

My rusty, falling apart, doors don’t work and neither do the windshield wipers? 

I think it would have to fall at altitude to damage it…I certainly haven’t stopped it yet with my incompetence…

Anyway, I thought about this all day…you could be driving a shiny blue sports car on a beautiful morning and still run off the road…maybe I will be ok?

Monday afternoon it started to snow.  Monday afternoon I had to go pick up the 6yo from school because he threw up.  No one understands that he throws up and then is fine…they freak out and make him go home and make him stay at home for twenty four hours.  I understand the reasoning behind it, but it is still a pain.

Anyway, I am driving the 9yo to school on Tuesday, which was a very surreal experience because it was almost quiet, and we see a car run into the back of a snow plow.  It was one of those big huge plows with the flashing lights and monster plow at the front. 

Then, I’m thinking, dude, I guess it doesn’t matter if you think you’re safe because you’re behind a snowplow…you can still run into the back of it!

So, I cried again last night…which is a major problem, but I’m working on it.  I am pretty sure I can’t keep everyone everywhere safe…the 6yo is going to throw up and everyone will think he has the plague, the 9yo will fall out of the car and as long as it is on the driveway this is ok, I will get to work safely and then turn around and slip on the ice in the carpark and slam my hand into the door…it could be sunny, it could be raining or icy…I could be following a snowplow or forget what I was doing.  I can’t stop gunfire in the park.  I wish I could.  I wish someone could.  Right now, I can only hope for the presence of mind to throw those I love out of danger and have the courage to stand up with grace.

 

Xb.

Why I fired the dentist (true story)

I fired my dentist.

I have never in my life before fired a provider…and in the last three weeks I have fired three…though two don’t know about it (I just won’t reschedule appointments and I’m sure I’ll fall through the cracks with no one the wiser.)

It’s kind of liberating.  I’m not saying I know better.  I absolutely do not.  But it is nice to feel like I’m taking control of my health (including my stupid teeth).

The story:

I work full time.  Yeah, I know, boo hoo…so does most of America…but I have a really hard time getting appointments during the work week without taking time off.  I don’t like to miss work so I try to schedule my appointments with minimal disruption.

About five weeks ago, I had to cancel an appointment at the end of the day because I was absolutely slammed at work.  I knew at 9 am that I wouldn’t be able to leave at three, so I called to reschedule.  I got a disapproving, ‘Well…now we’ll have a hygienist getting paid to sit here for half an hour with nothing to do.’

I have to admit at that point, I was annoyed.  I get that it is difficult to cancel at short notice.  I get that it is inconvenient.  What I want to know is how much this hygienist gets paid, that ½ an hour is such a hit to the budget.

Anyway, I made my appointment for 0730 in the morning instead.  That way I wouldn’t have to miss much work, could be the first one in and out and didn’t have to leave work in the middle of the day.  On the day I get there at 0725…all is good, except no one is in the office and the door is locked.

Fun times, right?

No, big.  I’m not concerned.  I know that people are late some times.  I get that.

At thirty-five past, I’m calling the office though…not surprised that no one answers.  It’s then I see the – I don’t know what she was.  She worked at the office though I have no idea in what capacity.  I would say she was the receptionist except she didn’t know how to turn on the computer (I am not joking)…this lady – whoever she was – came up and tried the door.  She doesn’t acknowledge me, doesn’t say hi or look at me or ask me politely to move out of the way when she goes to open the door that she would have had to knock me over to get through if it wasn’t LOCKED…

(Oh, thought I was over it.  Apparently am not.)

Two minutes later the dentist shows up.  I don’t know what kind of dentist doesn’t enter their own office through the back door…but that is not the issue here.  She doesn’t acknowledge me either.

This is not really a problem.  I am used to being ignored.  It’s ok…I move out of the way and they both go in before me.  I catch the door, a little annoyed, somewhat bemused and follow them in.

Course, they’ve disappeared to the back.  I listen to them turn on the lights and click on machines, turn on water and suction things…

Someone says from the back, ‘You the seven thirty?’

I answer, ‘yes,’ and struggle not to look at my watch (but fail, I can’t help myself…by this time it is quarter to eight.)  ‘Was I wrong about the time?’

‘No,’ is the answer.

Huh.

They have me come back, sit me in a chair.  Oh, good…finally getting this over with, I’m thinking.

Wrong.

They now spend about three minutes discussing over my head how the dentist is still ill.  Her husband apparently woke up in a pool of sweat the night before and was feeling much better now.  She assures the receptionist (?) that she would not be taking her mask off all day.

All the while apparently having forgotten I was there.

I almost got up at that point to walk out.

I don’t know why I didn’t.  Probably because I was already late for work and would have had to park in the outer unders (different than the lower forties) and take the shuttle at this point anyway, so why not just get it over with?

Then…THEN!..(Most people at this point as I tell this story are already appalled.  Maybe because I usually don’t go off like this on any subject…or maybe because I haven’t stopped to breathe while telling it and my face is turning purple.  But there is more.)  She snaps on her gloves and sais, ‘so I’m going to have to numb you up on that right side.’

WHAT!??

I did jump out of the chair at that point.

Oh, did I tell you that I came in for a routine, run of the mill, boring, scraping my teeth and telling me I need to floss more three month cleaning?

No filling.

No drilling.

No numbing.

No, no, no I don’t think so dentist lady.

‘Oh?’ she says, looking confused.  Then she goes off to look at my chart.

DO YOU THINK YOU MIGHT HAVE LOOKED AT MY CHART BEFORE DECIDING TO PUT NEEDLES IN MY MOUTH TO NUMB IT BEFORE YOU DRILL!!!??

You would think I was done at that point.  I should have walked out then.

No, I didn’t because I’m an idiot.  Instead I followed her as she moved me to another chair and explained that her receptionist?? had put 3mo in my appoint description.  She thought it was funny.  In her language, she explained, 3mo was something to do with the third molar, never mind that to the rest of the English speaking world 3mo means three months!!!

Oh, the hilarity.

I should mention that I have mild anxiety when it comes to the dentist.  It wasn’t funny.  I’m thinking it was negligent, and down right wrong.

Oh, but I stay, because I am an idiot.  I listen to her make small talk and talk over me, yI listened to her yell over me out to the receptionist?? that her son could absolutely not ride his long board to school, I stayed and smiled tersely as she insisted on making a follow up appointment.

Then I left…seething and uncomfortable.

I waited for a few days.  Don’t know why.  I wanted to calm down, I wanted to talk to someone and every time I called I got the answering machine…so I finally broke down and left a message cancelling my appointment and the one for the boys that I took the day off for later in the month.  I left my number, but didn’t think anyone would call me back.  Thought that was it.

It wasn’t.

The receptionist (not the same one this time, but the one from before that told me that the hygienist would be sitting around earning her mega bucks for half an hour while I wasn’t there) called a few days after that.  She wanted to know what had gone on.  I told her.  (In a very polite and civilized, rational manner…I so wish someone had been around to hear it.) I didn’t even go into the her being late or sick or shouting over me with her sharp things in my mouth.  I just talked about the ‘I’m going to have to numb you up on that right side’ thing.  Told her I could not responsibly ever go back to a dentist, or bring my children to a dentist who would numb someone without looking at their chart.  That I was appaled and wondered what would have happened and how far it would have gone if I didn’t speak English very well or if I was hard of hearing or an old biddy who got confused (no comments, please.)  What was her reply?

‘Well, everyone makes mistakes.  We’re all human.’

Yeah.  I’m not lying.

That is what she said.

Then she told me not to burn bridges.

So I fired my dentist, happily and gratefully and with a lot of satisfaction.  I wasn’t going to post anything on those healthgrade websites, but I will now.  Oh, yes I will.  I am not only burning bridges, I am going to stand by gleefully with marshmallows and chocolate…mmm chocolate…and watch them burn.

Xb.

Confessing the noise is back…I’m not crazy right?

‘All you have to do is get some DNA from a dinosaur and inject it into something living…like a tree.’ – The 6yo, getting excited about his trip to the natural history museum.  The idea was from his brother, who apparently got it from a book.

All you have to do…it’s easy.

So, I haven’t blogged in a while…no big, except this is my outlet (or one of them) to let the internal monologue have a little outside voice.  That way it doesn’t feel crazy cooped up and I don’t feel like it is trying to smother me with ‘love.’  I almost wish sometimes that the overwhelming insecurity didn’t act like a giant cork to stopper the chatter inside from leaking.  I almost wish that I could let it out in a constant stream like the 6yo does.  It is annoying…really annoying…but I love him anyway and there is always the hope that someone out there will love you despite your annoying habits. 

A couple things have happened since I last thought up anything to say here…nothing truly significant…nothing earth shattering…but I am noticing that things have changed.  Perhaps it is the change in seasons and the snow today when yesterday it was 70 degrees outside.  Maybe it is because of our recent hospital visits and being scared out of my mind about everything because there are no answers and just fear.  Maybe it is because I have decided to be a grown up and deal with my problems instead of trying to drown them or make them disappear with little round pills…whatever it is the voice is back.  The one inside my head that talks incessantly like the 6yo does and makes about as much sense. 

I don’t know if I’ve ever tried to explain it before.  That on a normal, good, everything is fine day, it feels like I am sitting in a theatre.  There are people having conversations all around me, there are people up on stage rehearsing.  The orchestra is warming up and I can hear an argument back stage as well as sirens from the ambulance that is passing outside.  All of that is starting to come back after making some confessions and having some conversations and deciding that I am who I am.  I am still holding my breath in the hope that everything is ok and that someone will still love me despite my annoying habits. 

The consequences?

I am upset because I am constantly hungry and my weight is going up again.  I am wound up and anxious all the time.  My muscles ache and at 9pm I feel like I need sleep like no other human being has needed sleep before.  I don’t know if this was like I was before…I don’t know if it will get better…

If resurrecting dinosaurs is simple, maybe I have a chance?

Aargh.

Everyone freaked out about the snowstorm today.  They closed the schools last night; they talked about twelve inches and blizzard conditions.  There were alerts every hour yesterday and cancellations right and left.  Today there is nothing on the road but slush and it feels just like every other day. 

Xb.

Poll: which direction should this week send me?

Alright…so I had in mind a marvelous opus (or slightly meager version thereof) to represent the last two or three weeks…try to explain why I feel like the little white plastic fork taped to my cork board at work should be taken away and put somewhere safe and out of harms reach…

I got bored.

Even my stories bore me if I tell them more than once.

So I have decided to go with the shortened, Pollyannaesque version of the latest events…(the cliff notes…I tried to read the cliff notes to Wuthering Heights once.  I was bored with that too, though to be fair it was before I knew what being on the moors at night entailed.)

The set up:

1. Decided to take care of myself and book health-type appointments…all three were rescheduled.  (A fellow strange optimist told me that it was because there was nothing wrong with me to worry about, which was nice, however untrue.)

The positive side?  I got to have an un-expected afternoon off with my boys and Tokyo Joes.  I also learned that I will not be returning to my current dentist after the next check up.

2. Found out I have ‘mild to moderate’ hearing loss in my left ear that may or may not get worse rapidly or progressively…could have been something I was born with.

The positive side?  I have not actually been ignoring people all these years, just couldn’t hear them.

3. Spent the last two weeks re-alphabetizing the 2011 charts to be archived and putting them into boxes as papers piled up on my desk and I have become covered in paper cuts.

The positive side?  This remains to be seen, but I think I may get to re-purpose that room into the ‘patient education’ room and I’m very excited.

4. Eye exam revealed my left eye is deteriorating slightly faster than my right.

Positive?  I get new glasses that are totally cool.  (Despite the fact that my left sided appears to be defective.)

5. Spent Sunday in the emergency department worried about my best friend (who never goes to the doctor) as he sat in a bed worried about a TIA, got a blood bath from the IV (nurse was the girl from Roseanne…I’m sure), and was wheeled off to have an MRI.

Positive?  Well…good news so far…I’m really struggling to see the positive side of this one, but I’m working on it.  (As we were in the ED, the 6 year old decided to lie on all the furniture he could find (I swear he is a little monkey) and the 9 year old threw up in the bin after seeing the IV bloodbath incident.  Beauty of all that was that we were in a shared room so very little was private.)

6. The 6 year old spent all of yesterday evening throwing up and lethargic…(Imagine my panic as I can think of about 14 specific names for bugs that he might have picked up in the ED that could cause some serious problems.)

Positive?  Again, there isn’t much to this one (except that he is better).  He managed to throw up in every single bowl in the house and went to sleep without his story…OH! OK…the positive to this one is that I got to read poems to the 9 year old with complete attention and in the end got to cuddle with both boys cos they crawled into bed with me.

7. My check engine light came on again yesterday.

The positive?  Well?  The car was due for a service anyhow.  For now, the check engine light illuminates the part of the dash that doesn’t usually show up in the dark.  That’s a good thing right?

8.  It is only Thursday tomorrow…THURSDAY!

On the plus side, I don’t have to listen to anyone say it is ‘hump day’.  And we don’t have to book a FexEx pick up on Thursdays.

And?

Well, It’s bed time.  I am serious about the poll though…I would like to take votes on quitting everything for school, getting some sort of advanced medical degree so that I have all the answers; or quitting everything and staying home to become a full time mum and gamer.  So far I have two votes for each.

Anyway…night?

xb.

Two sides of a spinning coin, lost and then found again (why I photograph)

 

This is a small moment.  A moment for seeking solace and providing comfort.

I had forgotten this moment.  In my mind it went unrecognized…through my lens it was fuzzy and fleeting in low light and high emotion.

I am lucky my finger was heavy that night on the shutter, because to me this forgotten, insignificant second is essential.

These moments make us who we are.  These moments remind me that sometimes I am the crying child, sometimes I am the strong arms that comfort.  If I had never been held, I would not know how to hold on.

These moments are so small, I forget them.  I often stand paralyzed with all that has ever happened and been forgotten…there are so many of these small moments, it overwhelms me.

This is why I photograph.

xb.

Spiders, ghosts, shopping and the ‘k’ at the end of soap

‘I have eyes and ears, mama. If I didn’t have eyes, I’d still have ears; and if I didn’t have ears, I’d still have eyes.’ – the 6yo after I shouted downstairs the second time for him to come take a bath.

Everyone has their kryptonite. Their very own I’m usually a very responsible, reasonable and capable human being, but present me with _________ and I become a quivering pile of childish goo. My heart races, I have trouble breathing and I suddenly want to cry like a baby…

I used to be that way with spiders. When we lived in the UK, we had the most wonderful dog called Sammy, who ate all the spiders who dared come in the house. She was a beautiful creature and I miss her. I think of her whenever I see a spider and I’m not as terrified. Not even of black widows. I’m not saying I seek them out or anything. I keep my distance and capture and release VERY carefully (and very far away), but I don’t have those dreams where I wake up and the floor is covered with them anymore.

I used to be terrified of ghosts as well. I would see images in mirrors, get prickly feelings and have cold wash over me as I stood petrified. The 6th Sense had me paralyzed for several months. I couldn’t turn my head to look out the window when I stopped at a stop light forever…just in case. It is rather embarrassing. Our house in the UK was over 100 years old when we bought it and I was convinced there was a ghost in the back room until we turned it into the nursery. At that point, I’m not sure what changed. Maybe I felt I couldn’t be a baby because I had a baby? Maybe I just grew up (a little)? Regardless, I don’t jump anymore when I see the librarian in Ghostbusters and I walk around in the dark all the time.

Grocery shopping still makes me a little nuts, even though it’s been a while since I had a proper full on anxiety attack about it. It helps that I have a little more money than I used to and that I’m getting a lot of help.

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of things that creep me out or that I don’t want to think about having to exist…like serial killers and clowns…or guns and people who think it’s ok not to hold the door open for someone…I am no longer terrified of things the way I used to be.

It’s other things that bother me and reduce me down to crying like a baby.

I  have a lot of people in the office who are afraid of needles. Grown people who I never would have guessed would get queasy over a 1 ½ inch, 22 gauge needle that just hurts for a second. I had a lady faint on me once…I couldn’t speak her language and left the room with two doctors and three nurses surrounding her on the floor and her feet in the air (it was early in my career). Therefore, I am cautious ever time I approach someone to draw their blood. I have to remind myself not to project though…not to enable.

For the little one, kryptonite takes on the form of a bath. Every time I put him in water, he reverts to his primal state and ceases to speak English or understand reason. The other day I finally took his face in my hands and said, ‘I need you to use soap.’ I put special emphasis on the soap part and might have added an extra k at the end. He immersed himself in the water and sang to himself as if I wasn’t there saying, ‘I know what soap is…but what is pk…’

He never did figure it out.

Whatever it is that gets to you, whatever it is that you feel that primal urge to scream when you come in contact with it, weather you feel that no one understands or weather you avoid it like the plague…everyone has one. There is someone out there who understands. It doesn’t do any good to be afraid of things you cannot change, but you can change the things you are afraid of. If you didn’t have eyes, you’d still have ears and if you didn’t have ears, you’d still have eyes…if you didn’t have either, you might not be afraid at all. I’m glad I have both eyes and ears and can face the things I fear.

Xb.