Michele

ROFL! Thanks for linking that! LOLOL! Jadaks, re: line twists, great job keeping your head. Your instructors taught you well, and may this be the most exciting level you experience, gear wise. As to the slack you mention, actually, that's not too wise. You could have a bump on the door on exit, your instructors may bump you, something may dislodge the hackey and there you are, deploying a canopy very very high. So trust your instructors to teach you about equipment, ask them, and follow their advice to the letter, and you will be just fine. And remember the 2 pulls, and then emergency procedures. Take care, good luck, and welcome to the sky and these forums. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Morning comes fast. Why is it that when you can't sleep, night is endless, but when you have to do something distasteful first thing in the morning, morning comes so very fast? Sparky comes right on time and far too early to pick me up for surgery....I give him the nickel tour, and realize I haven't taken the trash out. That is vitally important, you see. Vitally. And because Sparky can see my brain racing in circles, and perhaps has noticed the smoke coming out of my ears, he grabs the trash and takes it out. It is at that moment I realize I am in wonderful hands, and that surgery is happening, regardless of if I'm prepared or not. Into the car, and away we go. Yikes. Sparky has The Eagles playing, and we both sing along. I want to be anywhere but there. The sky is blue, can we go jump instead? Can we go to the park? Can I just pretend nothing is wrong, and I'll even go to the office with a smile. No? Bafooey. Somehow despite leaden feet and a clinging bottom, I manage to get out of the car, and walk into the surgery center. Sparky is right there, no escape possible. I have no doubt that if I tried to turn around, he'd grab me by my hair and get me inside, so somehow I manage. We are sitting there not three minutes, and my name is called....and I gasp "already??" but no, it's just the financial person wanting money. I write enormous checks out, misspell my own name on my signature, start over, and hand them off. Sigh. Go back out to the waiting room, and tap my toes, twiddle my hair, and discuss skydiving with Sparky. Bounce in my chair, wiggle around, and think "I could make a run for it. I could just dash out and run. I'd be home in about 12 hours....I could do that." Sparky sees me crawling out of my skin, and picks up my hand. "You will be fine, Lady," he says. And I see his confidence, and decide to borrow it for a while. And then Lucy comes and gets me. She takes me to the "locker room", and hands me a hospital gown. It's one of those chinese puzzles to tie it. I am bending all around, trying to get it fastened, but don't manage to. I have the skirt like a wraparound, and tied it on my hip, and manage to get the neck tied. I then don the blue hair thing - not a hat, not a net, but a thing - and realize that this really isn't a good look for me. Stumble out, wearing socks and a hospital gown all funky, and find Lucy. She gets me onto a gurney, spreads out warm blankets, and takes my vital signs. And then sticks something resembling a barcode on my head. This sticker is, ostensibly, to keep an eye on my temperature, but I entertain thoughts of biochips, Big Brother, and Logan's run. I sit there, contemplating my navel. And then when I get bored with that, I try to do the Prana Bindu exercises in Dune...move only one muscle at a time. During this, I hear the charge nurse charging around, getting all these people prepped. The man to my left is high already, and I listen to him try to talk to the nurse...and the man on my right is so nervous, he can't remember his name. I listen to the nurses go through their spiel "you'll feel a tiny prick and a little sting", over and over until I can - and do, when it's my turn - repeat it with them. I tuck wisps of hair under my cap. The blankets have cooled, but I am still toasty. I am crawling out of my skin, feeling more alone and isolated and invisible than ever before, tucked away behind curtains. I call out to the nurse "can I have some of the good stuff now before I wet my pants, please?" and she informs me that I have to talk with the anesthesiologist first. I understand this, but still. I am holding on to my determination to stay here and not leave with both hands. Linda, the other nurse, brings me over "People" mag - and, as she says, it's fluff and not substance, but I read it and look at the pictures and realize just how far from this world celebrities are. One of the last stories is about a lady who has died after 8 days in a coma. She went in for surgery, and had an allergic reaction to the sedative, and fucking died. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOkaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, like I need this right now.....I toss the mag to the ground, and when the nurse comes over, I point the story out to her, and suggest that maybe this isn't the best mag to hand people waiting for sedatives...... About 12 seconds after that, the anesthesiologist comes over. Rosa got the cute one, I get a guy who barely looks at me. He's wearing lots of gold, though, so he's gotta be good. He's very interested in the fact that I am allergic to lidocaine, which is of course the numbing agent he uses for the IV anesthesia. He apologizes to the file, mumbling something like he will "put me down" (wtf, put me down????? Sparky, where are you???????????????????????????) without lidocaine, but it will hurt a lot, and to just keep breathing. Logan's Run...man, I can't do this. I'm praying as hard as I can "God, please be with me, help me hold on, please, I can't do this, I wanna go home..." And then I hear my doctor's laugh, and hear his voice. And as he comes through the curtain, bringing with him a peace, he looks at me. "Hi, Michele ma belle. You're not sedated yet, are you?" as I say hi to my Dr., he calls over his shoulder "why is she not sedated yet? Now, please", and within 10 seconds, the nurse is there, injecting my IV with stuff and then the stuff she put in whacks me and I start talking to the Dr. about why he's not standing still, and asking if we're having an earthquake. He pats my hand, tells me he'll see me in about 5 minutes, and poof, he's gone. And that stuff works because the next thing I know I am in the OR, moving from the gurney to the table. I look up, and see the straps they will be putting my legs through, and say "oh looky, torture devices..." and the Dr is standing there, stroking my forehead, smiling, saying "night, Michele, see you in a bit" and then my left arm is burning inside it, I can feel the muscles freezing and cramping and I start screaming and then it's dark. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And now I'm crying and moaning and fighting and pulling the mask off my face and I don't know where I am and I can't breathe and help me, please, someone - please, there's hands holding me down and there are bars keeping me here and I can't move them I can't breathe I am choking and pleasepleasepleaseplease oh God help me it hurts so much! And I hear voices and feel hands holding mine and someone is stroking my forehead and someone else has clamped down on my legs and I start to remember where I am. I have a nurse at each hand, one holding the oxygen mask in place, and a male nurse at my legs holding them down....voices are reassuring me and calming me and wrapping me with love. And the lady in the curtained bed next to me is frantically asking if I'm all right and starts rattling off the Hail Mary as fast as she can several times over. And then the nurse says "I know it hurts, sweetie, I'm putting more (something) into you. Breathe, relax. You're all right, sweetie. You're all right, you've had surgery and you're at Holy Cross and you are all right sweetheart" and someone else is crooning a song and it still hurts horribly but now I've stopped fighting and I'm just holding the nurses' hands, and I'm not kicking the guy anymore (I nailed him on the chin but good - I saw him with an icepack later...and I have a bruise on the top of my foot...) but still I cry and can't breathe right and she gives me even more (something) and my arms flop down and now I can't move if I wanted to and I still can't breathe so I ask the nurse to please take off the mask, I can't breathe, and then she realizes it's because my nose is stuffed because of the tears and because I've bitten my tongue so badly it's swollen and she helps me blow my nose and gives me ice to suck for my tongue, and then I can tolerate the O2 mask again. And still I am writhing, silent now, from the pain and she gives me more (something). She gets the Dr. to authorize even more (something) and is injecting it and now Michael is coming, I see him crossing the room, and I reach out my hand and Michael takes it and says "Hi, Lady", and I am safe again. I don't recall getting dressed, but somehow I am, and in a wheelchair, and now into Michael's car; and now we're on the freeway, The Eagles playing, and he hands me the phone, and it's Mary, and we talk but I don't know what about, and then we're home, and I'm stretching out in my lavendar scented sheets and I can hear Michael in the living room, and I curl up with my kitties and blankets and sleep. And wake, and walk a bit, and then back to bed. I hear the phone ringing, and Michael talking, and feel the weight of my kitties and I am all right and I sleep again. And about 5ish, RippedCord stops by with dinner for 83 and a friend of his who's visiting from New York (hi, Ralph!) who's allergic to cats and Mary calls and I talk to her and then she talks to Keith and I manage to eat a burger and a soft taco and drink a vanilla shake, and Michael hands me the phone and I ask who I'm talking to and it's Bill Cole and I just love Bill's voice and he is such a blessed man, and then Keith and Ralph leave and I lay on the sofa and take more pills, and I am feeling bad but better, and about 8ish Michael makes sure I know how to call 911 and then he takes his leave. Without Michael, I would not have managed to make it through, and so I thank him from the bottom of my heart. For all the pm's and love sent my way, I thank you all so very much. I sure felt the love yesterday, and it was vitally necessary. And for Mary's voice in my ear, well, the miles may have been there, but you were with me in my heart....and I love you, girl. Hugs to all. And please don't kick the nurses. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Vibes being sent. Lots of love, health, happiness, and joy lay in your future - and in your present. Know you are thought of, and cared for. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Hi, Darius... It's all right, but you also have to realize most people (all over, not just here) don't understand the separation between Wahhabism and Islam/Muslim. All you need to do is run "Wahhab" throught the search posts function, and you'll see what I mean. Just a note here, too....and that is someone did notice it, and replied just perfectly to it. It's not hypocritical. Consider the entire post, not just one line. It was about someone's thought process, about what he, as a soldier in a war, is saying about what he has learned, his position, his perception. He says something on there about differing opinions, and for me, that summed up his position very well. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Interesting thread. What do you think about writers, who set up a story, find the photographers, and submit them all together? As someone who has written specifically for Parachutist, I am not at all upset that I got paid a tiny fraction of what 3 pages would go for in, say, "Newsweek". Why? Because the stories I wrote just will not cross over to mainstream media. Just like the photos don't cross over for the most part. For me, it's not about the money. Skydiving is too small of an arena to expect big (or even bigger) bucks. (and yes, I'm heading back to bed right now...'cause I am still hurting...and it's time for the next pill. Sorry, Deuce! ) Edited: I just realized where I posted. Please feel free to ignore me....maybe I'm still rather loopy after all. Sorry.... Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

I think, if that's the case and you are really sure about it, that someone should be labeled and outted as a troll. What if he has unknowing clients, and he's posing as a rigger, and it kills someone? What then? That could be very messy. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Happy birthday, Ed my friend. May you have many more, all with friends and family surrounding you, loving you, and cheering you on. Hugs, my friend! (Hey, Lew? Smack his bottom for me!) Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

My two cents, groggy as it may be... It doesn't matter if it's a real story or a fake story. It's how I address the situation presented to me that makes me who I am. Sure, there are liars. And then there are folks who aren't, who really managed to screw things up timing wise and need a break. I am not the one who gets to make the judgment on if it's true or not, or if they need to get better at scheduling - what I can do is give them a break based on my actions. For example, in the supermarket, if the guy behind me has 4 items, and I have a cartful, then he gets to go ahead. I don't wait for him to ask, I offer. He can be checked, bagged, and out of the store before I get my cart unloaded. So why not? I've had situations where I've let three people go in front of me; I was still unloading my cart when it came my turn. Sure, I could've made them wait, but why? Same deal with this. If I am in a place, I have allowed myself the time to complete the transaction. But why not let someone go? What's it really matter? Who really benefits from it? The lady is still going to be rushing, the asshat behind me is still going to be an asshat, but I get the pleasure of thinking I've done something good for someone else. I don't care if they never stand in line, Quade - the way they live their life - their integrity or lack thereof is not of my concern in the long run. But if I can say I've done right by my own ethics and integrity, not added to someone else's burden during my day, and not behaved in a cynical manner, then I can smile at the end of the day, and feel good. Back to the original question...I would've let my "Aunt Bertha" come into line ahead of me. "Hey, Auntie, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be catching a plane. here, stand with me..." as I bring her into line ahead of me. Or I would've offered to complete her transaction for her, thus allowing her to get going. The "fat fuck" (who, btw, would've been a fuck, fat or not) wouldn't have been able to say anything without lots of people hearing it, giving him his due. There are many ways to handle a situation - it's not just a confrontation or not. I have no compunction about confronting someone, but that is often the last resort in my book. I recall once, in Seattle, on the ferry, some kids were throwing trash at the seagulls following the boat. My mom was there, and she was getting all hot and bothered. We had some sandwiches for the ride. I took the filling out of my sandwich, walked over to the kids, offered the bread and suggested that instead of rock throwing, that they throw bread for the gulls to eat, and that maybe that would be a better thing to do. They were just bored kids, and yelling at them would've acheived nothing but contribute to their teenaged angst....instead, they took the bread, and made a game of seeing if the birds could catch it in mid air....I like to think that on that day, I made a difference to the kids, and the birds....and it only cost me a roll from a sandwich... Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Michele had her surgery today and is now at home resting. The procedure went well. The Dr. wants her to rest and get some sleep. I am sure she will be back on DZ.com by tomorrow if not sooner. Posted by Sparky on Michele's computer. ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........................yes, all to myself. It's all about MEMEMEMEME!!! Hehehe. I will accept defeat gracefully if someone overbids me. I promise. I'm not a stalker. I always lose the cute guys to the gorgeous women. Sigh. I'm just not cut out for this stuff. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Here's what I know is being auctioned off. I haven't a clue on the bids or reserves or whatever. ~Custom made surfboard of your choice by Jimmy Simplicio. ~Talon, T2 Harness fitting up to 120 main. Very good condition! ~Tony Suit (RW). Black with blue grippers in very good condition, size small. ~Hawk Design Freefly suit. Black and white, size large. ~New Bonehead “Millennium” helmet. Black, size large. ~“Galaxy” Altimeter, brand new! ~10 hours computer/network labor with our very own Cajones (ed)! ~altimaster III Galaxy ~One slightly used, medium, RW suit (white with pink and green). ~One brand new, hand made baby blanket (And lew, we'll talk once I get back on my feet. Love ya!) Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Just wish I could do more, love. It's so hard to see my friends struggle. (Oh, by the way, the jumpsuit was slightly used, and didn't fit me...but the baby blanket hasn't been used at all. LOL! And we've got some preg skydivers and skydiving spouses here right now....so, bid on it!!!!) Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

I make a simmering sauce which is based on a cuban recipe, but is not hot. It'a tomatos, tomato paste, burgundy wine, onion, garlic, green peppers, green olices finely chopped, a bit of brown sugar, some capers if you like those, red wine vinegar, olive oil, cumin, cinnamon, basil, cloves, orgean, nutmeg and cheyenne pepper (only wee small amounts (like half pinches) of the spices...). Cook ground beef until it's almost done, add the simmering sauce, and simmer for a few minutes. Make some rice, and serve the beef and sauce over the rice. There are about a million sauces I like...but my favorite recently is either a masala sauce, or a nice saltimbuca sauce. Over a chicken breast sauteed in a nice mix of garlic and olive oil, with mushrooms and onions.... Oh yeah, time for dinner. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Ooooooooooohhhh, pick me, pick me! Death by chocolate. Yeah, I could get behind that. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Someone to save me from the nightmare that is the internet....LOL! Tell ya what. We'll talk about it soon, all right? I am not even sure I can afford it right now (being uninsured and having significant medical issues is rather crazymaking...)...but we'll talk. I wish I could be there for you all. I really wish I could. I'll be there in my heart, I promise. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Ed, I'm a business owner and am thinking the next investment needs to be a webbie for me. Is that something you could do? If so, and if I could afford it, maybe I'll make the bid. OR at least a bid... hugs, kids. This is what family's about. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Linkie no workie, like my brain right now... Anyone know how much the Paypal raised? Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Lara, check your pms, darlin. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Exe, you don't know Benny well, do ya? Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Go, Adam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh! Safe and happy delivery to all three of you!!!!! Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Watch your snail mail, Cory....not that it will help a whole lot w/ the girls, weather and jumping, but it's guaranteed to make you smile.... Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Um, Phree? I do that at my most current.......shoot, I even did it during the canopy class I took w/ the guys at Perris...someday, ask them about Michele's landing in Hemet.... Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Hi, Missy. What Clay meant, muffled as it was by that big foot in his mouth, was that in the past, the City of Chicago had had some people actually vote, even though they had died before the election (in some cases, years before). It was a huge scandal, and is often referred to during election years. It was not directed at you or Dos Gatos in any way. We are here to support you, and we will do so, as best we can. Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

LOL, now that would get my vote as avatar as the year! Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~

Oh, Jake being responsible for me. how yummy!!! LOL...how about we'll talk during the week? I do want to buy more tix. What time is the raffle going to be? Ciels- Michele ~Do Angels keep the dreams we seek While our hearts lie bleeding?~