When my Hobbit asked what I wanted for my birthday (which was Monday) — #itsmybirthdayandillblogifIwantto, I asked him for a guest blog post. So here it is:
Hobbits and Wizards and Elves, Oh My!
Our home is into hobbits and wizards and elves (and almost everything fantastical) so naturally there was much excitement and anticipation over Peter Jackson’s latest Hobbit installment: The Desolation of Smaug.
Noelle said that she rather liked the dwarf/elf romance in Desolation of Smaug, and I admit that even though it is totally outside of Tolkien canon, it makes for some interesting Peter Jackson fanfiction.
The “interracial romance” suits me because at some point in our marriage I decided that Noelle was a Fae Queen and she decided that I was her Hobbit. Don’t ask… But, in case you were wondering, a hobbit/fae romance can work out quite well, thank you very much.
The Queen of the Fae has magical powers that I don’t have. For example, when I spill a bag of ice, she can see into the murky nether regions called “the floor” and find those stray ice cubes that I can’t see. She can also hear speech and music which are quite beyond the range of my hobbit senses, and she can interpret them in the High Tongue of Calinor: American Sign Language.
The Queen particularly enjoys interpeting Christmas music in the High Tongue.
So, in a way, she does have semi-magical powers that I don’t have. But I fancy that I bring the sturdiness, steadfastness, and plain hobbit-sense to our household which would otherwise be lacking. That’s what she tells me, anyway. The Fae Queen often calls me “her rock” just because I am so reliably me.
So let’s hear it for noncanonical dwarf/elf romances, and even crossover hobbit/fae romances. As you might have noticed, we take our fantasy roleplaying seriously here in the Realm of Calinor!
My hobbit: I accidentally opened up one of those round spice things and ate a chip of… starch? something. it was gross
Me: Blind men probably shouldn’t nibble on random things in the cupboard …
(He showed me the bottle later. It was chopped dried onions)
I have fibromyalgia, so I know a little bit about how pain can drain you. The pain I had from fibro had never really been intense, but just a constant draining ache. I thought that was bad, but it never induced me to take a lot of pain killers and seemed easy enough to just bear it, because my fibro seems to go through ‘phases’ and will diminish in pain depending on where it is in the cycle.
Recently I have had a toothache that has progressed to a headache/earache, but being a weekend, there was no appointments to be had, so I had to just endure it. I have taken Advil, aspirin, garlic, antihistamines, anything to reduce the inflammation, but the pain is still there and intense. It’s really only been two days, but it has been so intense that it drives me to distraction. The one thing I have gained from this experience is a deeper understanding of people suffering from chronic pain. I can’t imagine being constantly in intense pain. Two days and I’m already thinking I would drive to 8 hours Mexico just to buy something to give me a little relief. I think I understand why people get addicted to pain killers, not just because of the chemical addiction of many of them, but just the desire to end the pain.
I imagine that emotional pain (and the self medication that follows with that) has a similar problem. When you just want to FEEL good, a bar of chocolate is a good temporary solution. When you just want to feel NOTHING, alcohol or drugs does the job for a time. But just like pain killers, the after effects (my father suffered kidney failure from an over prescription of pain killers) are often worse than the original problem.
All that being said–I can’t wait for Monday, for a doctor to prescribe me some pain killers (and antibiotics).
PS, I want to thank all of you who have helped with our CI upgrade fund at GoFundMe. My Hobbit and I seem to survive every month since I left my job to deal with the rapid onset of the Hobbit’s blindness through a series of small miracles that usually come in the form of a human being like you. Thank you for being our miracle.
I just put up a Gofundme campaign for my Hobbit’s Cochlear Implant Upgrade. Visit it here: http://www.gofundme.com/5n569o.
Here is a bit of the background story: My husband Sam has Ushers Syndrome. He is deaf and rapidly going blind. In 2002, his mother convinced him to get a Cochlear Implant and his unit was one of the big Sprint Processor/ Body Worn CI’s like pictured above. Last year, 11 years later, it was so obsolete that we couldn’t find parts for it and the CI processor was no longer compatible with the programs used to update and calibrate it. So we applied for a new CI. Sam’s Medicare covers 80%, but the amount left was still about 1500.00. The people at Cochlear America gave us a generous waiver, but we are still responsible for about 400 dollars of the new processor, fees for follow up doctors (CI Specialists) visits, and the other necessities for upgrading to the new Nucleus 6 behind the ear processor (the object on the left is the CI part that is inside his head and ear and the right is the processor): Our budget is very tight and we can’t really afford 400 dollars, but without the CI, Sam is seriously sensory deprived. We are hoping our friends, family and community members will help us out with this drive to raise money for his implant.
The prophet Joseph Smith said that he felt worn and shaped like a rough stone rolling, with all the rough edges knocked off of him. I feel like that a lot – like a rock in a tumbler, with no control over who/what I hit in the process or where I will rebound. How strange and funny that we feel worn smooth or thin (like butter spread over too much bread), when the world sees us as harder and more solid. Though we feel worn smooth, we also feel less like the child full of wonder who actually found smooth stones quite remarkable…
“How do you do it?”
There is a unusual level of dysfunction that my family lives with on a daily basis. We all realize that this is not ‘normal’ for most people, not even most blind or deaf people and their family. For us it has become ‘normal’ even if it is not comfortable. The children are well adjusted to it, still able to communicate with their friends while communicating with their step-father in the best ways to be understood. There are still miscommunications. There are still problems that can’t be fixed with a light rope in the hall, clean hallways and regular oil changes. Some things are still unbearably difficult, but somehow, we make it through.
Family and friends have been an invaluable resource as have charity, welfare and church. They are all a regular part of our ‘normal’ life. They all lift us up when we feel we are drowning. And we try to be a blessing to all of them in return by serving and returning support.
It is a hard, long, difficult road, with many moments of sorrow and frustration, but just as many miracles and sufficient moments of joy. Sometimes the joy seems fleeting and as hard as we try to hold onto it, it slips like sand through our fingers and we hit the next obstacle. We struggle, and we endure.
Here is where we share the moments of joy, so we can look back and giggle, smile and remember. There are many more moments of frustration ahead. Sometimes we feel overwhelmed by it, and then a friend appears and we are, as CS Lewis said: Interrupted by Joy. Thank you for being a part of it.
The Hobbit: *sigh* they are probably going to ban bath salts because of retards snorting them or whatnot.
Me: they’ll just make it a behind the counter purchase like your asthma pills
The Hobbit: Man on bath salts impersonates chicken, lands in jail : Knoxville News Sentinel: that’s some good shit, man! Makes you impersonate a chicken!
Me: born to be wild! Or at least free range…
The Hobbit: hahaha
I can’t convince my husband, who is blind and deaf, that he COULD be a motivational speaker, and he has great experiences to share… Everyone always asks about ‘how did you meet’ and ‘how do you cope’ and on and on. Why he’s not writing or speaking, I really can’t understand. He says he doesn’t like being an ‘inspiration’ to people, but heck! We need money and he needs a career. There’s one built into being an ‘inspiration’ to people, isn’t there? It’s like a writer, but with a sob story everyone actually WANTS to hear. Or at least be a comedian… right?
So… how do I convince him?
Friend (who shall remain nameless to protect their identity): So, how are things?
Me: (shrug) Okay, I guess.
Friend: Has your husband had any more problems… burning down things or anything? (uneasy laugh, but obviously sincere in their concern for him)
Me: No more fires. Just flooded the washroom.