499. A Thanksgiving Update from Ann/Ning 2015


It’s been a happy year, and a sad one, too. 

It was sad because since I wrote last year’s Thanksgiving letter we had to say goodbye to some very dear ones I considered family.  Dan UncleUncle Bus, and Aunty Haigouhy.  Sniff.  Sniffle.  
But it was also happy in that I found out that saying goodbye to them gave me a chance to test out my new post-injury robustness level, and I have not melted into a puddle entirely.  In fact, I enjoyed 3 entire months of low or no pain!!!  I’m strong enough for this on many levels, and I thank God for His grace and for giving me a Team of individuals who are both kind and exceptionally skilled so that they are equipped to help me through the day-to-day aspects of living in a body like this, to pursue higher levels of health, help me reach my goals, and keep me laughing along the way.  
This is truly one of the most wonderful miracles of my Recovery.  I couldn’t have imagined people like this.  Individually, you might call my connection with this kind of professional help a happy coincidence.  But when it kept on happening with astonishing regularity and with little or no effort on my part, I gave myself permission to have very high standards since collectively Team Tanimal has the hand of the Lord written all over it.
17384558241_e0d2a08d78_bThe consensus is that it has been an indisputably sad and stressful time, and it stands to reason that it would manifest itself somehow.  And although I have done well in some areas, my PTSD got aggravated.  If you recall, I was diagnosed with Delayed Onset PTSD early this year. But the great thing is that I have multiple watchful people who keep tabs on me, and the right kind of professional help for this specific problem.  The end result is that although it’s been rough, I am SO much more comfortable in my own skin than this time last year.
It’s a good thing, because I’ve had to armor up for the latest engagement.  My dear friend, Carol Ridgely is sick.  Mrs. Ridgely has an aggressive cancer so I consoled myself by writing a book and asking her to be my coauthor. She is totally hardcore. It’s like THROWDOWN: Carol Ridgely. God saved Carol from an awful life on the street and a heart full of hatred. He saved me from a lifetime of anger and bitterness. We’ve been tight since she got a liver transplant at Georgetown U in ‘99 when I was a freshman.  It’s my privilege now to tell her story.  I incorporated some original source material she wrote back in 1992 right after she became a Christian.  One of the best things about writing is that your really have to decide if you believe something is true before you write it down for public consumption.  This process has been so encouraging for me. 

It's NonProfit!! go to Amazon

It’s NonProfit!! go to Amazon

I know I say this every time, but please forgive me for my appalling correspondence skills.  I’ve had to pull the plug on a lot of things out of necessity.  I haven’t blogged regularly since the summer because I needed to prioritize eating sleeping, and breathing, but I started book writing in the interim.  I was working on Learning How volumes 2 and 3 (starring Trainer D and Coach R) but when Mrs. Ridgely was diagnosed I bumped the guys (thanks, guys!) and skipped straight to Volume 4: Learning How to Sing a New Song. It’s what I would have said to her if stamina weren’t an issue and we could just sit around for hours and talk. It’s about what happened to her, what happened to me, how it’s been an arduous road, but how it makes so much sense and how the path has been strewn with marks of indelible grace…And it’s about how we prepare for life, and prepare for death.
As always, everything is all NonProfit. 
Thank you for your prayers and support. 
Love, Ann|Ning
PS.  Happy Thanksgiving from the Tans!

PPS.  Now that Mrs. Ridgely’s book is published I’m hibernating again.  Bye for now!!

492. I Love Mondays

492. I Love Mondays

498. On Sale Today! A New Song – LH Vol 4

It's NonProfit!! go to Amazon

It’s NonProfit!! go to Amazon

It’s time to get your fingers ready to click on the picture above and go to Amazon.com and order Learning How to Sing a New Song – Learning How Volume 4. While you’re at it, go ahead and order my other titles, and once you read remember to leave a review! Descriptions are here, or you can just browse Amazon. As always, it’s all nonprofit, and your order qualifies for Prime and Super Saver shipping. And since it’s so early, you’ll get your books in time for gift-giving purposes!  [3 hours later] I just uploaded Kindle versions of Learning How to Sing and my Memoirs!  They both have an active Table of Contents and are priced at $8 if you like instant gratification.  The print copy is $10.  Although at least Vol 4. Song is in the match book program so if you buy the print copy you get a $2.99 deal on the Kindle version.  And my friends, you do NOT need to own a Kindle to enjoy these digital versions.  Just download the app!!  I love it.  It totally helps my eyes, which are about to fall out right now.  But I was getting impatient with all the Kindle conversion stuff so I just started pressing buttons after dispensing with the pictures for the most part.  The important part is that the books are on Kindle.  I’m only 2 years behind schedule with my Memoirs.  :).   I’d link to the Kindle versions but there’s a 12 hour conversion time before it’s “live” on Amazon so I’m just going to have to trust that it will happen because I need to go to bed STAT. Hey, I’m doing what I can over here.

I was just talking to Mommy a couple days ago about writing, and I said, If I hadn’t gotten sick, I would have never known that I could write. Well, I guess I’ve always been able to write papers in school etc. but didn’t really have anything worth writing about that people other than an English professor might want to read. But one of the funny things about this is that my grammar declined and colloquialism ramped up dramatically once I got sick. And I write like I speak, so there’s a whole lot of “voice” happening.

A week or so after she came home from the hospital, Mommy and I went to go see Mrs. Ridgely. I put a print-out of our book on the table in front of her. You DIDN’T, she gasped. Oh….but I DID, I shot back.

This is one of those times that writing was the only thing that would make me feel better. So I was up early, clutching my travel cup of coffee (a sealed mug is the only way I can carry stuff upstairs), and I went to my people to fix my arm enough so I could keep on typing. (Me to Trainer D: I said RUB it, NOT BREAK IT!!) That Monday during Stretchy Time Coach R asked me about my weekend. I thought for a moment, trying to remember what happened.

Me: I wrote a book!

Coach R: (long pause) …Okay, so first of all…who responds to “how was your weekend” with an answer like that?….

I don’t know why he’s so surprised. I totally did this to him a couple months ago, except you won’t see his book until 2016 since I’m busy celebrating Mrs. Ridgely right now. Sometime in August during Ladder Time I casually mentioned, Oh, yeah – we’re writing a book.

Coach R immediately bought in. That’s why we get along so swimmingly – he lets me have my own way most of the time, except when I might hurt myself, e.g. when he caught me “running” at the maximum incline. When I emailed Trainer D saying we were writing a book however, he immediately messaged me saying, Are you serious?

YES, of COURSE I’m serious, D!!!

Honestly. That’s how I roll. You should know that by now.

Trainer D and I get along swimmingly, too, but the tenor of our interaction is *cough* different *cough*.

I finished Coach R’s book and happily placed a copy in his hands. It doesn’t sink in until you hold it in your hands, I think. It’s a vague idea until you can see it and read it yourself and can tell that it’s a marketable text. I also gave Mrs. Ridgely a pre-publication copy of Coach R’s book because it’s a great example of the co-author process. I wanted her to know I would write the book and she would have as much room to take it in any direction she wanted, but if she didn’t have a lot of energy to spare and liked it as-is, it could be released as a finished work.

Hilariously, Mrs. Ridgely loves Coach R’s book. I am so grateful – apparently it really ministered to her and she learned a lot more about my day to day experience as a result. I emailed Coach R triumphantly to inform him that the CRFC (Coach R Fan Club) just got bigger.

Happily, Mrs. Ridgely loves our book, too. It happened so fast I didn’t realize it, but it’s what I would have said to her if stamina weren’t an issue and we could just sit around for hours and talk. It’s about what happened to her, what happened to me, how it’s been an arduous road, but it makes so much sense and how the path has been strewn with marks of indelible grace. And it’s about how we prepare for life, and prepare for death.

This is the first chapter. Soli Deo gloria.


Chapter 1: She Was Right: A New Song


“I was a drug addict, an alcoholic, and I was very well known on 14th Street…”


Mrs. Ridgely and I had been invited to speak at the IFI Women’s Conference in April 2015. Mrs. D made it easy on us by making it a question and answer format. I was thrilled to be asked and emailed Mrs. Ridgely a few months before when Mrs. D told me she was going to be my partner.


Oh, Ning, you’ve done this before, but I haven’t! Mrs. Ridgely told me she was nervous.


I laughed inwardly but tried to reassure her as I emailed her back. Seriously, Mrs. Ridgely, I learned that this kind of life was possible because of YOU.


Mrs. D didn’t know this when she asked us both to participate at the conference, but Mrs. Ridgely and I go way back. She got a liver transplant when I was a freshman at Georgetown University in 1998. Her hospital room was just a short walk up the hill from my dorm so we started spending a lot of time together. She prayed me through my undergraduate course (COL ‘02), my early working life, and getting an MBA (MSB ‘09).


But while I was busy getting my degrees and cutting my teeth in the working world what I was really learning was what it looked like to live victoriously even if you’re sick. I didn’t learn this because Mrs. Ridgely sat me down one day and told me about her experience. It’s because I sat by her bedside as she was in and out of the hospital and watched.


Many of my friends who are slightly younger than me were too young to be told about the kind of life Mrs. Ridgely lived on the street before she became a Christian. So when she made her opening statement, especially the part about, …I was very well known on 14th street… I kind of just stared at her and knew that she had just managed to get the full attention of everyone in the room. I was deeply impressed that she had found a way to be frank and keep it real so graciously.


After her introductory remarks the rest of the conversation (about being sick and the impact of cataclysmic illness on your beliefs about God) flowed freely. I wanted to just sit back and listen to her, it was so interesting, but I had a mic, too, so I did my share of talking. But I seem to remember saying a lot of, Hey, Mrs. R – Do you remember the time…..


And then we’d laugh.


And then we’d remember there were a lot of other people there. And that we were supposed to be saying things for their benefit, not just chatting like the old friends we are.


We were both so glad to have the opportunity to talk about this in public. Thank you, Mrs. D!!

That was in April. I’m writing this in October. Two weeks ago we got word that Mrs. Ridgely has cancer. It’s bad. She has so much going on, and so many organs are compromised at this point, that the doctors are focusing on making her comfortable.


I talked to Mr. Ridgely, aka Charlie, when they first got the “unofficial” news – he told me on the phone and I was just like, So…I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that because I find all of this deeply upsetting so I’m going to be in denial for a while. I’m going to hang up the phone now – call Daddy later, okay? Thanks – bye!


Mr. Ridgely played along because he’s nice like that. But we both knew that my denial strategy could not last.


It lasted 2 days. Then they got the official biopsy results and then Mommy, Daddy and I trekked our way over to the hospital to see them both.


I consoled myself while I was still in denial by deciding to write this book. I told Mrs. Ridgely via a garbled voicemail that we were writing a book, and when we arrived at the hospital she handed me a piece of paper with some thoughts written on it.


I had said nothing more than, We’re writing a book. It’s going to be called Learning How to Sing a New Song. All she heard was the word, “song,” and she was off and running. It took me a while to work up the courage to actually read what she wrote but when I did I decided that we should change the title to Throwdown: Carol Ridgely.


Man alive. This cancer has given her a fresh dose of life perspective and apparently she’s ready to throw it down. I’m going to follow suit.


Sheesh. What have I gotten myself into? I don’t know that I’m ready for this.


But I’m doing it anyway.


It is impossible to ignore the leading of the Lord in our lives – how our paths intersected when I was young, how an unlikely friendship influenced how I view illness and God, how I got sick myself and learned that this path is not for the fainthearted, and how God’s grace is truly astounding in the midst of suffering.


Back in 2003 my Daddy had cancer. It broke my heart. And one day I was crying my eyes out in the Ladies’ Room at Church. I’m talking ugly cry. It was bad. Mrs. Ridgely found me and was extremely distressed to see me so grieved.


That week a card arrived in our mailbox. She wrote,


If our lives were always sunny we’d never know that He can deliver you, or give you love, peace, and joy in the midst of pure pain.


Mrs. Ridgely told me that over 12 years ago. A lot has happened since then.

I got sick.


And I learned first-hand that she was right.


That card meant so much to me that I kept it all these years. When I moved to Oregon I cleaned my room and threw out a lot of things. But after I got sick and moved back home to Maryland I found this card – it was too special for me to part with. But as we anticipated speaking together in April I knew Mrs. Ridgely had been having a rough time of it physically and had been in and out of the hospital. So I wanted to encourage her and found this card and mailed it to her. She had no idea I had treasured it for so long. And when she received it she told me she just cried and cried.


She also cried the first time she saw me after I got sick. I’ll tell you more about it in Chapter 3 but for now I’ll just say I had an AVM Rupture and massive stroke when I was 30 and after about 3 months of inpatient hospital life in Oregon I flew home to Maryland. I was at church one day, secluded in a classroom since I absolutely could not handle crowds at that point, and Mrs. Ridgely came to sit next to me.


The tears rolled down her cheeks as she told me she was so sorry she hadn’t been able to fly out to Oregon to be with me when I was living in the hospital. I thought that was so sweet! Even though I was still very loopy at that point (it took a long while for things to settle down mentally) I knew that Mrs. Ridgely had some pressing matters of her own to attend to, and thought it was ridiculous that she should think of flying across the country, but also deeply touching that she had wanted to do so.


When I first got the diagnosis of her cancer I mulled over the title of our book. Was Learning How to Sing a New Song the right thing? All of my books in this series start with Learning How…. but we could take it in any number of directions.


One afternoon I rooted through a box of old cards I had received while in the hospital but that had been largely untouched.   I knew there were cards from Mrs. Ridgely in there and went searching for some source material.


I was not disappointed. There was a whole series of cards from her. Since I cannot read normally now I had never read them. But this time I got my reading glasses and pored over the cards hungrily.


When I reached card number three I stopped in my tracks. Here was confirmation. …How to Sing a New Song was the right title. The card was dated July 13, 2011 – a couple of weeks after I was discharged from my last hospital and came home. Essentially, this is where the real work of Recovery began.


Mrs. Ridgely is an authority on long-term illness. You will likely receive lots of support from friends and loved ones when you’re in the acute onset stage of illness because everyone is panicking over the urgency of the situation. Once you make it to the Recovery stage you and your family start transitioning out of survival mode, though, you look around and wonder how the world could possibly keep on turning when yours stopped.


That’s just how it is. People necessarily need to attend to the pressing matters of life as you come to grips with your new circumstances and realize that since you’re still alive you need to gather the shattered pieces of your existence and see what this could possibly look like going forward.


It’s been a humbling and daunting process for me. It was horrifying to realize that I was the only one who would ever know about and remember certain things that happened while I was still drifting in and out of consciousness. The alone-ness was terrifying.


But in the midst of that terrible isolation came the peace and love of God – like a gentle dove that hovered nearby until I felt confident enough in what I knew about God and what I knew about myself to put out my hand and let it rest on my finger.


The timing, circumstances, and severity of my injury were bad. That’s an understatement.   The word on the street is that a lot of people were angry about it. But God saved me from a lifetime of anger and bitterness not because He wrote a special message to me in the clouds one day, or fashioned a rainbow into words for my benefit, but because I remembered that Jesus Christ came to heal the broken-hearted, and I fit the bill.


Even though something really bad happened to me, God was trying to tell me through a myriad of circumstances that He loved me, He knew exactly what was happening, and that I could trust Him.


I have trouble talking about many of these circumstances publicly. They are often still too precious for me to canvass. But let me just say that these things – e.g. planting certain people in a time and place so our paths intersect – has happened with truly frightening regularity and specificity that simply cannot be interpreted as coincidence.


One of the circumstances I am ready to talk about is the fact that Mrs. Ridgely and I are friends. She knows how hard it is to be sick for a long time. In that card she sent me after I first got home she wrote,


In case you hit a road that’s not so joyful and kinda gets you down I pray these verses for you:


Psalm 40.1-3

{To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.}

1 I waited patiently for the LORD; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.

2He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

3And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the LORD.


497. Learning How to Sing a New Song


Hi, everyone! Remember how I pulled the plug on my blog etc. so I could prioritize health decisions and stuff? Curve ball.

I also said I was working on Learning How Volumes 2 and 3, starring Trainer D and Coach R. New Plan: The guys are on hold and we’re skipping STRAIGHT to Volume 4: Learning How to Sing a New Song.

This one stars my dear friend, Carol Ridgely, aka “Mrs. R.” We’ve been tight since she got a liver transplant in 1999 at Georgetown University and I was a freshman. One week in September she was supposed to have shoulder surgery or something but the surgery got cancelled bc the docs didn’t like how things were looking in there so they did a biopsy. She has an aggressive cancer. So I was in denial for a couple days and then I consoled myself by deciding to write this book.

This is what’s on the back cover:

Carol and Ning are the unlikeliest of friends…

Their backgrounds couldn’t be more different. God saved Carol from an awful life on the street and a heart hardened with hatred. God saved Ning from a lifetime of anger and bitterness after her sheltered Princess and the Pea life ended in a cataclysmic health event. But she knew that victory through illness was possible because she had watched Mrs. Ridgely do it first.

…but they shared the same need and love the same Savior.

2 Corinthians 5.17 …if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold all things are become new.

Mrs. Ridgely has been ill for a long time. When I got sick myself I assumed she’d continue to be around for me to talk to, laugh with, and consult regarding important things. Sigh. Barring another miracle, it doesn’t look like it’s going to pan out that way.

So it is my privilege to tell her story now. The nice people at Unshackled – Pacific Garden Mission, Chicago – sent me the original testimony she wrote in 1992 when she submitted it for their radio program. When they emailed it to me I was THRILLED. Wait ‘til you read the book. Her testimony is powerful and it’s impossible to ignore the leading of the Lord in how he brought us together as friends and to speak with one voice now about how Jesus Christ heals the broken hearted. As I worked through her testimony (I reworked it for the book) I kept on emailing her notes like, THANK YOU for doing this, etc. because it’s super hardcore and I am so grateful that she is willing to share her experience with such openness “so that others who are like I was can know that through the Lord Jesus Christ they, too, can be set free…”

Man alive, I’m playin’ with the big boys now for real.

Fasten your seat belts, kids.

This is not a drill.

The thing is, Mrs. R and I are used to canvassing very heavy topics with each other. We’ve done this since I was 19. So when we got the biopsy results and Mommy, Daddy, and I trekked to the hospital to visit her and Mr. R we walked in, I perched next to her on the bed, and we started jawing away like old times.

Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite. It describes our hospital visit (the picture at the top was taken that day) and a subsequent phone conversation. I love this story because it’s so typical of my life – really serious stuff tempered with hilarious moments that make it bearable. I will share chapter 1 tomorrow (Wednesday) at which point the book will be officially published and on sale on Amazon (Prime and Super Saver Shipping Eligible). As always, it’s all nonprofit.

…In the space of a week the cancer is spreading visibly. I know this because when I called yesterday she thought I was the oncology nurse so we chatted for five minutes and I heard the details. Since I have phone talking deficits and a brain injury I am used to pretending that I know what’s going on so I just rolled with it. Who knows how long the conversation would have advanced if she had not figured it out and asked point blank, Is this the nurse?

Bahahahaha!! We had a good laugh over it. The best part was that I was totally playing along even though I was only following about 25% of the conversation. It’s my Game Face. We could have gone on indefinitely. I’m really good at pretending. :)

I do better when we’re face to face. That way I can see your lips moving and have a better chance of really getting what you’re saying. I also developed the habit of people-reading before I got sick because it was useful for me professionally.

I was doing some major people-reading on Mrs. Ridgely when we went to the hospital last week. While she was chatting with her doctor and social worker (who, BTW, handled very difficult subjects with clarity and grace) there were some points when I wanted to run screaming from the room.

Well, I probably wouldn’t have run (I need a machine for that), but you know what I mean.

But I thought to myself, I am MUCH healthier now – I am familiar with these subjects and made my own decisions about life and death, etc. Mrs. Ridgely is doing great – she’s making sure she understands what’s going on so she can talk to Mr. Ridgely later and they can decide on what they need to do. The least I can do is sit here and support her.

So instead of running screaming out of the room I put my hand in Mommy’s and laid my head on her shoulder and prayed for help for Mrs. Ridgely to hear these things and also clarity of thought for what she needed to communicate from her end.

This is just a shell. Just a shell, I repeated mentally to myself.

After the doctor and social worker left I resumed my perch next to Mrs. Ridgely on her bed. We continued chatting away because we’re so used to it….

Seriously, please get ready to order this book. It is such a vivid illustration of God’s grace. Just look at Mrs. Ridgely’s smile in the picture above. Her joy is genuine and contagious. When I got sick she encouraged me and told me that long term illness has its ups and downs. Some days are hard. So in addition to reading our book, please pray for comfort and strength for Mr. and Mrs. Ridgely.



484. THIS is why I do this.


A New School Year, and a Short Blog Year

May 26, 2011 - OT at RIO - 3rd Hospital

May 26, 2011 – OT at RIO – 3rd Hospital

The leaves are starting to fall and almost everyone is back in school. Wow – where did the summer go?! I am so thankful I grew up in a place where education was an assumption. Many children in our world don’t have that. But I did. Thank you, MCPS!! And Thank You to all the teachers who oversaw my education, and those who look out for the children in my life. I have several friends who are teachers, and as we grow in our friendships I secretly take mental notes saying things to myself like, THAT is the kind of person I’d want teaching my kid (if I had one).

 My middle school gym teacher was a former NBA player. He was SUCH a nice guy. I hated PE, but I liked having him as my teacher. And what he taught me stuck. I cannot throw a ball now without pretending to make a basket. Look at the picture above. I’m thinking, You make the “L” with your arm…..

What I’m saying is that teachers have more influence than you think. As school is getting underway, let’s pray for a great year for our kids, and the men and women in charge of their classrooms.

In other news, I’m still working on sorting some stuff out in RecoveryLand. It’s going well, but I just need more time to attend to the Work of Recovery. I love writing, but I’m in need of more time to work on sleeping, eating, and breathing.

Not kidding. I have received specific instruction regarding these three things recently. Hilariously, I recruited Trainer D to come with me to a new Physical Therapy appointment (they had a different perspective on things I was interested in learning about), and we learned a lot about breathing techniques. This is right up his alley. He’s been all up in my grill about my breathing forever. And after the appointment he marched out to the waiting room where he gleefully informed Mommy that I need to be practicing my breathing. A lot. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.

Everyone else is also in fine form. Smurfette says I shouldn’t try to see her professionally until I make friends with food again. Gen fixed my hip on Tuesday – It’s misaligned, she observed as I walked in. I had 3 months of low or no pain, for which I am EXTREMELY grateful. But it got triggered by travel and is back with a vengeance. CMD is making sure I’m supplied with herbs, and today Coach R made me march and jump around after I laughed for a while and tried to convince him to let me wear a gait belt. Answer: No. He claims his towing device is the “athletic version of a gait belt.”

Mm hmm… A likely story, Coach R.

I really do love writing, though, and I’m working on two new books: Volumes 2 and 3 of the Learning How…series. They are going to be primarily about Trainer D and Coach R, with cameo appearances by your other favorite Team Tanimal members. I finished Coach R’s already, and he’s reviewing it. I had to warn him, Do not be distressed by the frequent use of the phrase, “Bahahahaha!!!” – I mean it in the nicest way possible.

Now I’m working on Trainer D’s, but I got stuck trying to write his bio. I only got as far as, Trainer D is far too Latin for his own good. And I figured, that’s probably not quite the thing. Sigh. Back to the drawing board.

Side note: I apologize to Latinos and everywhere. It really is true, though. If you ask him, he will make no attempt to deny it.

So, anyway, this is going to be a short blog year. It’s been kinda rough, and I’m not thrilled at pulling the plug like this, but that’s the point of how I set up my “online presence” and my writing – I can shut it down when I need to. And right now it’s clear that I need to prioritize some other things right now. So I’m going bye bye!!

Xoxo ann/ning.

Ann Ning Learning How |Nonprofit books on Amazon!

496. I KNOW you Remember

Aunty Haigouhy

Aunty Haigouhy

It’s been a good week, but a rough one. Okay, so it’s been a rough 1H 2015. Fine. Let’s just say it’s been rough for a while. But some times are rougher than others, even though things can be really fabulous, too.

485 .  Best. Day. Ever [ENT Update] Green Tea Gelato Fro Yo - this made it all worth it

485 . Best. Day. Ever [ENT Update] Green Tea Gelato Fro Yo – this made it all worth it

I’ve known things were different since that harrowing ENT appointment. The tears were squirting out of my eyes as I chokingly fixed them on my doc and wondered, Why is he not enacting the contingency plan?!? NOW’s the time, buddy!! I seriously considered pushing him away, but I was too busy clutching Ed Blueberry.

Thankfully the cough cleared once my meds were changed and Coach R no longer carries my lozenges in his pocket. It’s a good thing, I told him, bc the ENT said I didn’t have to go back for an entire year and there was NO WAY I’d go back before schedule.

But apparently my exaggerated response to the ENT exam process (one I’ve gone through probably 10+ times, not counting the times while I was asleep), was unsurprising given that I’m in PTSD treatment. Medical procedures, plane rides, etc. are different when you’re already at a heightened level of distress, so I’m supposed to be careful about these things.

I guess funerals could be characterized as one of these trigger events, and we’ve had a couple lately. SNIFF.

So I think I definitely exhausted all that denial had to offer me. So now I’m supposed to deal with it. I’ve been extra special jumpy lately and although my pain level has been so much better than in December when we said goodbye to Dan Uncle, there are some health decisions I need to make, and I need to start planning and eating food properly again. So I’m taking the rest of the summer off.

Yay! It’s summer vacation! I continue to struggle with the idea of vacation, and what that means for This Disabled Life, since I have to live in this body 24/7. But then I think of friends in a situation (e.g. caregiving) where there really is no break, and no brain injury to use as an excuse when you just have to shut everything down and go to bed. Suddenly, I feel more energized, and focused on making these friends’ worlds a happier place. :)

390.  Vacation

390. Vacation

But I’ll be better equipped to do so if I take care of myself. I’ve been informed that my #1 job right now is to protect myself – for me this means sticking close to home and observing routine – this is not a fabulous time to undertake new challenges or stretch myself in general. Obviously I love to laugh, but I assure you that I feel the weight of my loss acutely. I’ve done a LOT of pretending since I got sick. A lot of it was simply easier for me since there was no time lapse in my head and I wanted to pick up where I left off with the friends who were still a part of my life.   But there are moments of searing memory that catch me off guard. I avoid these if possible and shut them down or deal with them in a way I’m being trained to do. But for the first time in public, I referenced my Old Life in a way that put the elephant in the room front and center. We had Aunty Haigouhy’s funeral last week. It was tremendously sad for me, but a great joy to see her grandson grown so tall.

This is what I said:

My name is Ning. If you don’t know me from church you might recognize me from the neighborhood – I’d always be at The Shop or running errands with Aunty Haigouhy and it always amazed me how many people stopped to chat with her. I was like, How could one woman possibly have so many friends? Or you might have seen me when we had Uncle Joe’s funeral in 08.


Picture BoardI got really sick in 2011 and before I woke up the nurses told my family to bring in pictures of my friends and family so I’d be surrounded by familiar faces when I did open my eyes. So my siblings made copies of the photos on my fridge and made me a beautiful picture board. If you made it onto the picture board the implication was that whether or not the same blood runs in our veins we’re family. There was a beautiful picture of Aunty Haigouhy and L on my board. It was taken the week Uncle Joe passed away. And you know how you can tell in a picture sometimes when someone is stressed, sad, and tired? Aunty H was all these things, but NONE of them showed in that picture. She looks beautiful because she was with her grandson and it’s clear from that photo she loved him to bits and pieces.

In case you’re wondering why I inserted myself into the S family, this is one of my favorite stories. My Daddy had cancer a while ago. One day I was so sad I was sitting in the back of the red jeep talking to Uncle Joe and Aunty H. But then I burst into tears. I was like, Wah! Bc I was so sad. Uncle Joe was immediately like, No cry, No cry! But Aunty H smacked him on the shoulder and said, Joe – She want cry, LET HER CRY!!! I had to laugh bc it was so funny. But I knew that they were not strangers to grief. But they were a great balance. Uncle Joe told me to be strong. But Aunty H told me to be myself, and let me cry if I wanted to. That was a long time ago – and I decided then that I would be loyal to this family forever.


But that doesn’t change since Uncle Joe and Aunty H went home to be with the Lord. I want to say something to L specifically – but this goes for M and K, too. We spent a lot of time together before I moved to Oregon and before I got sick, but now that I’m disabled and stuff I can’t just come over and hang out anymore. So I figure that if I’m going to say something to you, it’s going to have to be here and now, in front of everyone. I know you’re old enough to remember me before I got sick. I was different. We did a lot of stuff, and we had fun. But a lot of those things we probably DON’T remember because you were a baby and I have blocked out a lot of memories because it makes me too sad. Things are really different now. But I just want to make sure you know, that no matter how your life changes, and it’s changed a LOT recently, the Lord Jesus doesn’t change. How your grandparents loved you is just a picture of how He loves you. Please remember that.

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Making Coffee



Aunty Haigouhy making me some Turkish coffee – 2009


Remember how I said I was on an eating vacation?  I probably need to buckle down and get back to work. I felt a severe eating deficit on Sunday at church and needed to literally lie down and be quiet for 45 minutes while Mom and Dad went to grab a salad and came back for me.  Yes, stress is a contributing factor.  Apparently I’m REALLY bad at this whole grieving thing.  I prefer to pretend nothing’s happening, and my people are obliging me by playing along.  But I know that denial can only work for so long.  I think I might be reaching the extent of its (admittedly flawed) effectiveness.

I also chose poorly at breakfast at Sunday.  Mommy asked me if I wanted an egg and I said, I probably should, but no thanks.  Bad choice.  And I can’t get away with suboptimal choices right now when it comes to food.  So I will do better tomorrow.  :)

This is Aunty Haigouhy making coffee for me in 2009.  We went EVERYWHERE together after Uncle Joe died.  Pharmacy, Supermarket, Doctor, Hospital – wherever.  Fun Times were had by all.  I was always amazed at how many people stopped to greet her warmly and chat while we were out and about.  Everyone knew her and Uncle Joe bc Uncle Joe had a shoe repair shop in the neighborhood for many moons and it was a well loved institution.

When I came home from my internship (Intel Summer Camp ‘o8) I went straight to The Shop with a pot of orchids and the burning question – Should I move?  This was when Uncle Joe famously told me that yes, I could move, but that I should be aware that no one was going to bring me a cup of water.  

50.  A Cup of Water

50. A Cup of Water


In later years, Aunty Haigouhy would say, I don’t know why you want move Oregon.

Me:  But Uncle Joe SAID I could!!

Aunty H:  I don’t remember that.

She was right there, I promise.  But she feigned unawareness of this conversation, just like how she’d always feign memory loss when it came to putting on her seat belt in my car.

I always managed to show up at her house whenever we had errands to run around mealtime.  I take that back.  Time was somewhat irrelevant.  I went straight to the fridge and perfected my pathetically hungry look over the years.  It totally worked.  I was always well fed and well cared for at Aunt Haigouhy’s house.

There are so many more stories I could tell you, but I’m going to refrain.  I need to rest my arms so I can play at Aunty Haigouhy’s funeral.


Bye xoxo


495. Bumpy

Coach R trains US Soccer's Ali Krieger - 7 exercises to prevent ACL injuries

Coach R trains US Soccer’s Ali Krieger – YouTube:  7 exercises to prevent ACL injuries

Right before I started talking at the Christmas Tea I turned to Smurfette and was like, Hey, J – you ever done this sort of thing before? Cuz things are about to get a little craaazy…..

Ann Ning Learning How | Dec 14 - AVM and Stroke Recovery Yr 3 | Yeah, I totally just went there

She told me it was cool – she knew the drill – so my no-holds-barred approach that day didn’t unnerve her. I spoke at a Brunch a couple Saturdays ago, where we welcomed some new friends into our family.  I gave a brief update on my physical condition bc when I did the Christmas Tea, Trainer D had called me out the day before. Things have gotten so much better since then, and I have definitely reached another level physically.

I was gritting my teeth the whole time at Tea. I really wanted to set the record straight so I didn’t tell Mommy how poorly I was feeling bc I knew she’d make me lie down or something.  I had to expend an inordinate amount of effort then.  But this time at Brunch it was much smoother sailing. I am SO much healthier, thank the Lord.

After I consulted Smurfette initially, I counted calories for a couple of months, saw that I had been under-eating for a long time, and learned how to game the system within a couple of weeks so I wouldn’t get the Nastygram from My Fitness Pal. I also started drinking Ensure and felt so much better (Trainer D: DUH. [rolls eyes]). And then Trainer D proposed that I adopt Macro goals (%Protein, Carbs, and Fat). And so I did this “If it fits your macros” style of eating in addition to ramping my calorie goals up by 300-400 over another few months, during which I rediscovered the joys of the sandwich.


16.  Now is *not* the time for fasting...but maybe it is.

16. Now is *not* the time for fasting…but maybe it is.

The results were good. I became more mindful of what my body was telling me – e.g. on days that I “run” and train I have to eat a Giant Breakfast. I know now that once I “feel” the deficit I’m in the danger zone. I used to fast weekly in my Old Life. When I started this practice (I researched it and talked to the Health Nurse at work, FYI) I hid my scale so it wouldn’t be about that. It was fabulous – it’s how I learned to use the body to engage other parts of you. But now I can’t muscle through – I feel my body shutting down if I am failing to fuel appropriately, and I feel an intense obligation to MommyDaddy et. al to not allow this to happen. So last week at the Running Gym I instated a mandatory snack time for myself at 10.30am (this left an appropriate block of time prior to the start of any activity) since I had not been able to eat enough that morning. Coach R played along while I chewed my Quest bar dutifully, but Trainer M declined to participate.   I was going for the: If I have to suffer, we ALL have to suffer effect. Oh, well. You win some you lose some.

When I started eating more appropriately I was also able to “run” and train harder.   This is where the rubber really hits the road. My core strength, balance, spatial awareness etc. are improving, slowly but surely. I can do more things and know the tricks to make my eyeballs last longer and to prioritize so I can exercise the mental acuity I need for certain activities. And as time passes, I am getting better at managing my deficits and surround myself with people and safeguards to help me recognize when I need to scale back my activities.

When Uncle Bus passed away I was extremely sad. I’m still sad. And I recognized that I have a LOT of older friends and this situation was just going to escalate. I informed my people that I would be a MESS when this happened.

Well, it happened. Aunty Haigouhy went home to be with the Lord last week. She was Uncle Joe’s wife. They were special to me.

50.  A Cup of Water

50. A Cup of Water


Last Sunday we went to the hospital to see her one last time.   I tried to press myself into the wall outside her door and just disappear.  She was “asleep” but became agitated when she heard our voices. I hadn’t seen her in a long time because she had been moved into a home a while ago. Sigh. It’s been kinda rough.

I put myself on an eating vacation. I postponed an appointment with Smurfette, which confirmed Trainer D’s suspicion that my regimen had been derailed. I informed Coach R (technically, I email bombed him as is our custom), and then I tried to do “mindless eating” by watching a video of him training Ali Krieger (US Soccer) while I ate half of my barbacoa salad from lunch.

It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. At one point he’s explaining how to move one’s arms – you know, athletically. I started giggling and haven’t stopped for four days. Poor Coach R. I know he’s very good at what he does and all, but seriously? How am I NOT supposed to laugh at this stuff? Truly, though – you should watch this video, esp if ACL injuries are a concern of yours.

But you know what? Even though things have gotten kind of craaazy bumpy I’m doing well right now.  I was in excruciating pain when Dan Uncle passed away at the end of 2014.  Over the last couple of months I’ve had similar stress, compounded by a medication-induced cough, and a harrowing trip to the ENT, but have not been in that kind of pain.  Thank the Lord the cough cleared after 3 weeks and Coach R no longer has to carry my cough drops in his pocket.  I’m still nauseous.  Last week in the middle of a set with Trainer D I paused with my kettle bell mid-air and shifted my eyes from left to right and said simply, Trash can.  (i.e. in case I throw up, where do I go?)

did have some weirder head pain that made me nervous enough to get a full work up even though I’ve been assured nothing’s growing in there.  The last time I got an MRI was in 2012.  So I got a new one a few weeks ago and it came back clean (Yay!)  so the pain was just stress-related. Surprise, surprise.  It’s gotten better with time.

Stretching my hips at a fancy restaurant with Boo Boo's family.  April 2015

Stretching my hips at a fancy restaurant with Boo Boo’s family. April 2015

Notably ,my right side hurts as often as my left side now, or more.  I guess it’s the cumulative effect of 4 years of guarding my left side’s weakness.  But I know how to roll stuff out, and I’ve scaled back on my cane usage and typing/piano to save my arms (which is a new wrinkle, but we’re rolling with it).  I routinely get out of my chair and squat to stretch my hips – it doesn’t matter if we’re at a fancy restaurant, or in some other context that’s weird – the point is that I know what I need to do.  This is still a work in progress, but I don’t feel helpless anymore – like I just have to wait for things to happen.

The end result:  My wellness level has shifted upwards.

Feel free to cheer rowdily at this point.

This is another indicator that all my Training + Treatment is working. Thank you, Team Tanimal!!

Ann Ning Learning How |Nonprofit books on Amazon!


I dare you not to laugh.

Originally posted December 2012

I’ve had a nice day of rest but I’m going to go back to Therapy tomorrow because lying in bed is booooring and I’d prefer pretending everything is like it used to be.  FYI this is what things used to look like:

I love Kpop in that video but I have to say it makes me a little sad.  Not weepy or anything, just wistful.  Meanwhile, I’m going to make myself feel better by sharing this pic.  I dare you not to laugh.  Goodnight!


494. Dive In


I took this photo a couple of weeks ago when the family came in and we went to lunch. Peter a.k.a. P2 sat with his beloved Grammo and practiced his pizza eating technique. He got really into it. I have never seen that boy eat so much. It was like he had never seen food before.

Although they had to work on holding the pizza cheese-side up, I had to give P2 points for enthusiasm. There have been times in my life when I’ve had to just close my eyes (figuratively, but not always) and take the plunge. That’s how a lot of my progress has happened.

You probably know by now that I’m all for the aggressive trying of things. But I am also not in a position to be taking unnecessary risks. But God’s presence in my situation allows me to balance the two. This is not blind faith. It’s living faith.

Ann Ning Learning How |Nonprofit books on Amazon!