Who Am I? The Mother of A Three Year Old Attacked By a Chimp

Who am I? First, I am the mother of a child who was attacked by a chimpanzee. So as you can imagine the news of the Cincinnati Zoo killing their gorilla is one that feels too familiar to me. My child didn't crawl into an enclosure; my daughter attacked in our living room. My emotions over this ordeal are intense, but they may not be what some might think.

I am a mother that has had to deal with a lot of years of pain caused by the offensive attack. I have had to deal with the real chimp, Sammy, that attacked my 3-year-old being one that an entire county cherished as if he were a celebrity. We had had years of dealing with that one night when that man brought Sammy into our home.

Sammy changed our lives and altered a personality of the most wonderful little girl. He didn't suffer, he didn't pay, and he went on to live a life untouched. Even, though at the time of the attack, both her dad and I wanted to kill the little monster immediately. All of us wanted to see that Sammy suffered, but our priority was taking care of Heather.

As I look at the headlines of the gorilla killed because of the little boy climbing over the fence and falling into the pen at the Cincinnati Zoo, I have to say while some will see a similarity they are not at all alike. You see I had my baby standing safely in front of me when Sammy lunged to attack her. We were in what should always feel like a haven, our home. Sammy's owner brought him to a real estate transaction and left him in the vehicle long enough to sign papers. That didn't sit well with the male chimp.

I was watching like a mother hen as I couldn't stop the chimp from his onslaught of terror. I was being observant and taking care of my children as the attack happened. This incident was not a moment where parents weren't watching their child, and this was a time when parents couldn't stop something bad from happening. We learned later that when chimpanzees get angry, they attack the first thing smaller than them and unfortunately that was my three-year-old.

That Cincinnati mother, I still wonder how the child managed to climb over without anyone stopping him. Where were the parents? Anyone who has taken their small child to the zoo knows that they are fast and slippery, but this is unacceptable.

As we wanted to see, Sammy killed it never happened. The owner of that little monster so consumed with whether or not we were going to sue him, all of our attention and concern was on seeking medical care for our little girl.What did happen was the fact that his very irresponsible owner had to stop taking the chimp where small children could come into contact with him? What also occurred was the laws changed regarding transport of wild, exotic animals, they no longer could have free run of vehicles. Those were beautiful things.

The things that occurred at the hospital were a different story, one I will tell later.

When asked about the ordeal later in life Heather remarked that she felt she saved lives, because now people would be held more responsible actions regarding wild animal pets.

I watch the news about the Cincinnati Zoo killing the gorilla, and at first, I reacted like any parent would. Whatever did it take to make sure the child was safe, right? That was the first thing that I thought. And I listened as they explained that using tranquilizers would have taken too long. Then I heard that they watched this ordeal for 10 minutes before they shot the gorilla.

That was when I thought Seriously; they waited 10 minutes? I couldn't believe it; they said the tranquilizer would take too long when they took that long anyway? Why didn't they use it at first instead of watching for 10 minutes?

Now, I know I was not there and don't know the entire story. But as a mother who watched my child viciously attacked by a chimp, I have to say: If they had killed the gorilla immediately, I would think differently. But they didn't they waited. So why didn't they tranquilize in the beginning and save a life?

Watching the video, it appeared the gorilla was protecting the little boy, something as a parent I think the parents should have done in the first place. There was time; maybe there was a way to have saved the gorilla. They didn't even try.

Who Am I? Life Happens, People Need You, What Do You Do?

Who am I? It wouldn't seem like that should be a tough question to answer, but how many of you have looked in the mirror and wondered that very thing? I guess that quite a few have done just that.


We all hope to be successful in our careers, happy in a relationship, and loving as parents. But that doesn't describe who we are inside. Are you really a good person when it counts the most?

If you were to find yourself faced with an incident where another person is in need, what do you do? Do you step over them not wanting to get involved? Do you reach out a hand even though it 's hard to do? What do you do? That is the basis of. Who you are. So now as you look at those questions look in the mirror once more and ask Who Am I? What is your answer?

It only takes a few minutes to go out in the world to find people having trouble, and you merely have to open your eyes to the real sights are around you. From the woman at the grocery store who has a sad look in her eyes as she counts change and removes things from her cart, did you see her?

Or the child that looks at the food with such hunger and a parent with glistening eyes because they can't buy enough to eat, did you see them?


Did you notice the woman with that pained expression with every step she takes or the elderly man barely able to walk, did you see them? Have you seen those people who see families and cry because there own family isn't here any longer? Have you seen the pain from a wife as she stands at her husband's grave? A child when they have no one?

Have you seen the difficulties a family has when illness strikes? Have you seen the family who deals with the loss of a home? Do you know if your neighbors or your friends have enough to eat? Are they lying awake at night in fear because they may lose their homes? Do you know?

What would you do if someone asked for your help?

What do you do? Do you walk by with blinders?

Hopefully, I will always do my best to help.

It was the year 1980, Lynn and I were just freshly married kids. He was still 16, and I was a naive 18. Our home was situated next to an old highway that saw a lot of traffic from kids on the weekends and was also the location the highway department mixed their asphalt.

That Friday night we were watching a movie as we usually did. Being a young married couple meant we were close to our money. It was about 2 in the morning when a knock on our door broke the sounds of our movie. I went to see who it was because in 1980 it was relatively safe for me to do that.

I opened it to find a girl; she looked about 16, and her clothes were ripped covered in blood. She had blood running down her face, and she was shaking in pain. Grabbing a blanket, I wrapped her up and tried to get her to talk to me.

After moments of difficulty she got us to understand she had been in a car accident and there were others. I only remember Lynn and I running up the road to find the wreck. There was one boy lying in the ditch, and I did what I could for him, but the second one was lying on the train tracks. He was hurt the worse.

We didn't know what to do; we only knew we shouldn't move the one on the tracks. So I ran back home to call an ambulance.

With the arrival of the ambulance, we were informed that they needed parental permission, or at least an adult to stand responsible for the injured kids. I made phone calls to the bar where they said one boy's dad was on a date with the girl's mom. But they refused to come; they didn't want to be disturbed.

What would I do? None of us could be considered adults in this situation. So I did the only thing I knew how. I called Mama. They didn't say one word, they just came. Mama and Daddy got up in the middle of the night and rushed to stand responsible for kids that weren't theirs. For kids, they didn't know.

That was the parents I had. That was the way they taught me to care for the rest of the world.

What would you have done? Would you have done what they did? I hope in the same situation I would stand up for the example they left.

Who Am I? My Journey to Enlightenment After 8 Months Catatonic

Who am I? Well as a kid that grew up in the Ozarks during the 60s during a time of rotary phones and only a few numbers to dial. A time when we had a black and white tv that got if we were lucky two channels, we chased fireflies at night, played outside till the streetlights came on, and build forts on the vacant lot next door. We also explored the entire sewer system under the town with the prodding instruction of my Uncle. But then again that is a different story. The one I will save for later.

But I grew up in this small little town where we didn't lock our doors or cars, and all the neighborhood kids roamed free. Or at least we thought we were free. The actual reality was that the entire town was watching us and protecting us.

I didn't know people told lies, and I thought if it was in the paper or on television it was absolute truth. Now don't get me wrong I was not quite like my Granny, who would sit and argue with the television when her stories were on because in her mind she thought they were real.

As a teenager, I would be lying if I said I had never been around weed smoking and drinking. The reality is that in small towns there isn't a lot of other things for kids to do. That was a terrible thing for me. Because I was around people I loved and cared for and they were smoking marijuana.

It has been particularly hard because my parents taught me that the Reefer Madness propaganda about it being the Devil's Weed was the absolute truth. So my soul was torn between what I was seeing and those teachings. What was right?

Were those I watched smoke it the devil's spawn? Or was there another side to the story? For me, I never saw anything but the evil.

But my life would go in a direction that would take me on a strange epiphany. I suffered an infinite amount of difficulties in a short period. For someone who is Bi-polar, that can be devastating. And for me it was. So as I tried to handle the still fresh wounds of my Mama's death, and fact that my Daddy died not too long after. Those things followed with the house fire that ripped us of nearly everything. And, I had my identity was stolen after that (and the thief had a lot of fun to my name), there were government audits in my company which made me spend every dime of my savings, and the world began to spin.

I went back and forth to my doctor, my psychiatrist, and my cardiologist who sent me deeper into a spiral. The road to treatment led me down the pharmaceutical road of add this to the medications and then add this to that.

The next thing I knew I woke up. It had been eight months, and I didn't remember any of it. I woke to Lynn taking the medications away, and he said things had to stop.

It was so hard, but that was the beginning of a journey that I would have never thought I would take. We moved to California, and I began to meet people treating their medical issues with marijuana.

It was unreal. How could those patients be helped by the one thing I thought was so evil? But I spent time with parents who were treating their autistic children with drops of CBD oil, cancer patients who relied on marijuana so they could eat and take their chemo treatments. Then I got to spend an afternoon with the most remarkable young man. A young man who would change my life.

I first met Mikie, a wonderful boy with the need to be tied to his wheelchair. The straps were the only thing that could contain his shaking body from falling to the ground. He wasn't even able to put two words together to have a conversation. But I was supposed to interview him about his medical treatment.

Sure I had seen what I thought was evidence that marijuana had real medicinal properties but that afternoon my eyes became wide open. This remarkable young man with a beautiful smile sat before me, and I watched as he took two hits off of a joint.

It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Mickie's entire body relaxed right before my eyes. There was no denying it, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not faking it. I watched as that young man relaxed and then we had the most wonderful talk. All because he had taken two hits that relaxed all the muscles and tendons in his body that he struggled with every moment.

Now I was hooked I needed to see more. So I spent time with some of the autistic children and was witness to the effects that two tiny drops of CBD (Cannabinoid oil) had on them. I watched as children that were having hundreds of regular seizures on a weekly basis.  Children that because of those seizures were not able to participate in life at all. They didn't play. They didn't talk, they only suffered. Then I watched as those same children became fabulous little people who ran around playing, laughing and being what God intended in a child.

So as my world and my eyes opened to a possibility of good. The right in what I had always seen as evil I began to see that this natural plant. This plant that doesn't have to be altered to help people. This plant was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

So who am I? I am a believer. I am an advocate for the use of medical marijuana. And I am a new person who realizes that not everything taught in the past was the truth.

Who Am I? What Drives You Crazy? Ignorance, Selfishness, Rudeness

Who am I?
Today I am going to be the person who tells the world what my pet peeves are and what just completely sends me to the moon.

Okay, how do I figure out what is the greatest pet peeve of mine?
I guess I will just start with something. The Internet. Not the use of the web.
The cost of service is outrageous. Everything about the world seems to be connected or only accessible through the internet. We are all in need of internet connections, but getting connected is not just as easy as it sounds.
Some locations are not offered any service at all and some that service is so expensive it is out of the question.

Now, I want to move on to the matter of insurance. We are all required to have auto insurance (if you own a car) and health insurance. Both of those instances are penalized by fines if you do not have them. Okay, that is just a fact. My peeve is the fact that the insurance industry is one of the only things not regulated by the federal government. Well, just how is that right? They make us have them, but they do not control the amount that the companies are allowed to charge.

And then we have Obamacare, which was supposed to help Americans with their health insurance needs. It is just a joke. I know more people who have suffered from their health insurance needs since that went into effect. We have the wonderful, note my hostile attitude. Anyway, there is the Marketplace that is supposed to assist people in getting insured. If you go to the site, you will fill out a questionnaire to help determine if you get any aid in paying the price.

The cost of the insurance ranges in the hundreds of dollars, and if you are lucky, you can get help to pay some of that. But if you do not get insurance you are fined. Okay, the ones penalized are the same people who are having trouble just putting food on the table to feed their families. How is that fair? How is that helping the American Public?

On with the things that bother me. Up and down of the price of gasoline. We hear every year about the rising cost of crude oil, but then the remarkable price goes down. Then out of nowhere, it goes back up.

In my mind, I feel controlled. When things get atrocious, and the public complains about the state of stuff, then suddenly something like a drastic drop in gas happens. Then just as we get used to having a spare dollar or two, BAM they go up again, and we are right back where we started.

Money. How sad that it has reached such a controlling factor in the world.


I will end this mini rant with talking about helping people. Okay, first I am all for helping those in need. I love to do anything I can to help others and don't get me wrong I have been in the position to need help at times in my life.

But why is so much help going so far away? Why can't we help our neighbors before we go to other countries to aid the people? I know they need contribute too, but look around I guarantee you will see someone in arms reach that is in extreme need. So quite stepping over the poor at your feet to get on the planes to go overseas to aid foreign countries.

I do not see it as a beautiful thing when you fly far away to feed the hungry or build homes. Not when you have just walked by hungry, needy, and desperate people to do it. Help here first.

My Mother in law was a prime example of the ignorant who didn't help anyone here. She said the only reason any Americans were hungry or doing without was that they were lazy or drug addicts.

How ignorant that statement was, how ignorant of the way things are. I will admit though that I often wondered as a young woman why people did without. Then, karma slapped me in the face with reality. The reality that every one of us, everyone who has all they need and are sitting in a lovely home, everyone is just one paycheck away from being in a cardboard box.

It is not easy when you find you are homeless. When you realize that there is no help, no one to make sure your children are fed, no one to make sure things are okay.

Our lives were on the top of the mountain when Lynn got hurt. Then before we knew it we were without a home, without food, and unable to get any help (all because the insurance company said they were paying us, even though they were not).

Rude people are also another thing that irritates me to no end. But it seems no matter where you go, there they are.

What are your worst pet peeves? What drives you crazy?

Who am I? We're All Mad Here So Let's Try To Just Live, Love, and Most Importantly LAUGH!!!

 Hello, my name is Terry. Friends call me Red. Some call me other things, but that is an entirely different story. LOL

Who am I? It was a simpler time, a quieter time, the Ozarks in 1962. A small town and a small house. No one minded, no one remembered the little black and white tv or only having two channels. At least, we had Captain Kangaroo and Aunt Norma. It was where my story began.

When I was born, I was so tiny that Daddy held me in the palm of his hand. I will always remember his hands. They were so big and vigorous. I would sit for hours holding his thumb, just rubbing the nail because it made me feel safe.

One of the funniest things is that I have no idea what my phone number is today, but the one from this period in my life I will never forget. 256-2318. It might as well be Jenny's number.

                                                                       
Recently, I have been asked a few times if I was okay. People have accused me of being mad at the world and other things. When my truth, actually is a far different thing.
I suffer from Bipolar Disorder, severe panic disorder, fibromyalgia, chronic pain, just to name a couple. My point is that there are times I can slip into a deep dark depression.
Why you may be asking? Well, depression is something that just happens, there is often no reason whatsoever. It is just a fact. Does that make me angry at the world? NO NO NO!!!
Where should I begin today's thoughts? Probably with the basic Who am I?

I am so not an angry person. I love to laugh, not just a little giggle, but I love to laugh so hard it makes me snort. Which in turn makes me laugh harder.
If things don't go right during a shopping trip, that brings out my laughter more of a defense mechanism than humor. I laugh, if someone jumps in front of me in a line, I laugh, and it isn't fake laughter. I truly mean it.
Those people who fight, fuss and cuss over such trivial things just make me sad. Because if they could only learn the valuable lesson: If that is the worst thing to happen to them in a day, wow then life is good. Karma has a way of sneaking up and biting you in the butt whenever you think things can't get worse.


So as people see me talk about depression, Bipolar Disorder, Panic attacks, darkness, feelings of being alone, sadness, and all the other aspects of dealing with this mental illness. This disease is nothing I can just stop doing, I get sad for absolutely no reason, crying about EVERYTHING seriously about everything, and when I get mad... well it would be best if I didn't get upset.

There are still those who just want me to get over it and stop being angry or depression or whatever I might be at the time. To those uninformed and at times ignorant people, I will try to explain. For me, this illness is as if I am hanging off a cliff by the very tips of my fingertips.




And that grip is what helps me more than anything. As long as I know that my grip could give way on this slippery slope of sanity and reality, then I am okay. I hold on tighter and keep reminding myself that it is all a gift. Then I am fine, and the world moves on for me. Does that make me angry? No. Does it make me sad? No.
It empowers me. I am in control, and I despise being out of control.





My life is great. I love my family. I love life. I am emotional, I am opinionated, fear being around people, but I am not afraid, I no longer worry about not sleeping, I just live, I stay busy, and I just allow my emotions and moods to be what they are. I cope, and I turn all the moods into creativity. From my art to my writing I allow all of it to flow wherever it wishes to go.

Self portrait of my eye. Maybe the eye to my soul, who knows.

Live, Love, Laugh and then Laugh some more. Because there will always be more tears for all the people, who suffer Bipolar Disorder, depression, and the countless other mental problems.

Who am I? Where do I belong? Do I belong? Longing for Family

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Who am I? So many things go through my thought with that simple question. I wonder, who am I honestly?

When I lost both of my parents, I lost touch with any extended family. Lynn's family was never really there for us. He was the only child of his parent's marriage while they each had multiple children. His
siblings from them were never really his brothers and sisters. To them, he was merely in the way of getting money, money they felt was theirs. But whatever, money is just nothing in the scheme of things.

                                                          

For me, I never really felt like I belonged to my mom's family because she wasn't full blood to all of her brothers and sisters either. She had one full blood brother, and I felt a connection to them, but not a real lasting strong one. The others always made me feel like I wasn't part of them.

Did they do it intentionally, I can't say. Because I honestly don't feel like I am a part of 'their' family. Only Mama's family knew. But the feelings were there for me and with Mama went none of them seemed to notice I wasn't there anymore.

So now I stood looking at the world wondering who both Mama and Daddy's blood family was, and I wanted to know. My journey to know as much as possible began.

It was not easy. I had not much to go on. A few names but they didn't lead me to much knowledge. Then I remembered trips as a child and where we would spend the night. Still, all I had was names, but with the power of the internet, I searched.

When I found Uncle Alvie, it led me to his widow where I truly began to feel like I had a family.Soon I found out I had a cousin who starred on Punky Brewster. It was a real treat to learn about my blood family. Sadly before I could hear very much, my widowed Aunt Lydia passed away.

Life has its little ups and downs, its twists and turns. I feel more connected to this planet after my journey began. Let's see where it takes me.

The Ultimate Question: Who Am I? Why Have I Always Felt So Lost?

Who am I? What do I believe in?

 I guess the first thing I would say I believe in, would be my little family, my faith, and my belief in myself.

That is kind of funny, not the family and faith part of it. But the belief in myself. It has not been that many years at all that I have had any faith in me as a person. I was convinced that I was not smart enough, nice enough, good enough, or well anything enough. Now I have moved past an epiphany to see that I am all right.

It was not an easy journey to get to this point. I had a very hard uphill battle to gain some self-appreciation and self-worth.

 My self-esteem is still lacking, at the drop of a hat I can wither back into the person who felt unworthy. Everyone always asks me why I feel this way and it is just the way I have felt since I was tiny..

I am sure a lot of it stems from my BiPolar Disorder, but I just never felt like I belonged anywhere. I never felt like anyone would miss me if I disappeared. And from an early age, I have spent hours wondering why I was here on this Earth. Then an angel came into my life. An angel that told me I was his whole world. An angel that made me feel special.

And I married that angel. My journey to having any feelings of self-worth was not immediate, even though he tried for yeats to get me to see myself through his eyes. It was a lot of years and a lot of pain until I could finally look into a mirror. Look into a mirror. I had spent my life cherishing one particular mirror. This particular mirror that I saw when I was four years old, as my Mama was preparing for a Stanley Party. The hostess set out a mirror, and my heart fell in love. The catch was you had to sell 15 cases

of bubble bath to win it. Well as you can imagine my Dad bought 15 cases of bubble bath. We were swimming in bubbles for a very long time.

My mirror and the little face of my miracle. Cole, I love you so much, where have the years gone?

Even though I have cherished that mirror for 50 years, I had a phobia about looking into any mirror. I always felt like I was just too awful to look at my reflection and it kept me from using mirrors for my childhood. Now I can look in the mirror to fix my hair. And I seriously doubt anyone other than my husband even knew that.

Now I am a person who has interviewed celebrities, medical patients, worked with Senators and talked to Tribal elders. Sure I still throw up repeatedly before any of that, and I hyperventilate to the point I have passed out. But I have done it. Don't get me wrong there are days I can not even talk to my family, let alone sit down with someone so iconic as Tommy Chong.

Spending time with Tommy during the interview was a dream come true for an Ozarks kid who grew up with the iconic world of Cheech and Chong.

In one of my many interviews with musicians, I have to admit that this young man was one of my favorites. Yukmouth was a blast to talk, with his charm and charisma even I was at ease. From the moment, he pulled his grill out of his mouth and said "I got pretty teeth" I was hooked. He is a remarkable young man.

My uphill battle to learn to like myself has been an intricate highway of emotions that has brought me to tears and taken me to the highest mountains. I like me, I like the person I am, and I feel like I matter.
From the patients I have helped in their struggles to get medicine, to the strangers I have encountered in my life, I finally feel good about who I am.

So now as I ask Who am I? The answer is a long one. I am a wife, mother, nana, puppy grandma, friend, activist, author, artist, and a real person.

I know there will always be those who disagree. But for the first time in my life I know that's okay.


Because:

Haters gonna hate.