Prompts

When life hands you lemons. . . Prompt #127

IMG_1851You know the saying: When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

Well, what do you do when life hands you lemons?

Tell us, we want to know.  Set your time for 12-15 minutes and write. Just write. Post your writing here, on The Write Spot Blog. Click on “Guidelines” for information about how to post.

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8 comments

  1. Karen

    Life has handed me lots of “lemons,” only one of which is I am the recipient of an inoperable, already recalled metal-on-metal hip replacement, for which my now-former primary care physician took an $8400 payoff from the beleaguered manufacturer, who just didn’t know what to do with these recalled hip replacements (“we know, we’ll bribe doctors to put them in patients!”). After surgery, my gluteus tendons tore and I suffered 5 dislocations, after which I could not move; all I could do was lie there and scream until someone got tired of hearing me and called 911.

    A few years later after losing what was left of my memory, I found out the reason is that I’m toxic on cobalt and chromium from my “lemon” of a metal hip, so when I was diagnosed with incurable non-hodgkin’s lymphoma three years later, the oncologists were frankly freaked out when I clenched my fist, smiled and said, “YES!” (God had finally answered my prayers since 1982 when I was diagnosed with bilateral avascular necrosis of my humeral heads to TAKE ME HOME).

    Yet I was asked if I’d been diagnosed with “bipolar or any other psychiatric illness,” to which I laughed and replied that there isn’t any “mental illness” the psychobabblers of the world haven’t diagnosed me with (in addition to prescribing me the deadly drugs they give unsuspecting patients for a pharmaceutical kickback–but that’s another lemon I won’t squeeze at the moment). But how sad that instead of seeing the grace of God and a child eager to go Home to her Lord and Savior, the world sees a “disease.”

    And now along with every other mental disease in the D.S.M. (“Diagnostic and Statistical Manual”, or the psychiatrists Bible), I’ve been “diagnosed” with suffering from a severe case of Paranoia. But I had the last laugh, as I wrote the following poem and taped it to a doctor’s door, along with my cartoons of the medical profession (a friend told me “You’re going to win the Pulitzer–these people drove you to it!”):

    “Paranoia”

    When I see people talking
    And I can’t hear what they say,
    I know they are plotting against me–
    Their LAUGHTER gives them away!

    I can tell that my telephone is tapped
    By the static on the line,
    So I talk in Morse Code to confuse them–
    And THEY say I’m losing my mind??!

    I place a blanket over the screen
    When I turn on my cable TV
    I know that the actors and actresses–
    ARE REALLY SPYING ON ME!!!

    I disguise myself in James Bond garb
    Even IF it’s a hundred degrees.
    In my trenchcoat and dark glasses–
    I’M INCONSPICUOUS AS CAN BE!!!

    And when a jet flies overhead
    I dive for the nearest tree,
    I know a bomb will come flying out–
    If the pilot glimpses me!

    I know that my analyst is one of THEM,
    Not JUST by his outrageous fee,
    I have proof that he’s part of the Mafia–
    BY HIS MISDIAGNOSIS OF ME!

    It’s not that I’m crazy or paranoid,
    I just know the score you see,
    It takes a sane person to know what I know–
    THAT THE WHOLE WORLD IS AFTER ME!!!

    When life hands me lemons, I do three things. The first is to complain and grumble, shake my fists at the heavens and tell God how unfair He’s being. The second is I’ll write funny songs, poems and cartoons to vent my anger creatively (it beats murder, suicide or taking an ultimately serotonin-depleting and brain destroying antidepressant, or SSRI–Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor, which rips the mask off psychotropic drugging and exposes a brutal but well-entrenched money-making machine, but that’s yet another lemon I won’t squeeze at the moment). The third is, considering I’m now crippled and in a power chair because of this delightful lemon (or what the Bible calls a “thorn”) in my side, I humble myself and metaphorically get on my knees before God and ask Him to “make lemonade out of these “lemons” life has handed me (and I admit some I brought on myself), and open up my Bible to be led to what God has to say about the “lemons” of life.

    My spiritual life rafts are Romans 8:28, “For we know that ALL things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose,” and remembering that God brought His greatest triumph out of the ashes of Calvary; and my other is “laughter therapy.” Watch “America’s Funniest Home Videos” and double over with laughter, knowing that laughter gets those God-created endorphins going. When I have tears streaming down my face from laughter, I notice I’m not in pain anymore, and I’m definitely having the “last laugh,”–and that kind of revenge is definitely “sweet.”

    I hope these “Diamonds in the Dust” will be an encouragement!

    1. mcullen Post author

      Creative and powerful writing, Karen. You have a wonderful ability to make fun of a difficult situation. Keep writing! Thanks for posting.

      1. Karen

        Thanks too, for your help and all the work you are doing to encourage people to write!

        1. mcullen Post author

          My pleasure. I love working with writers! 🙂

  2. James Seamarsh

    Thank you for your writing. I had to read it to my wife as I was reminded of how I, too, have experienced many of the same feelings. Laughter has helped me, too. I even had an exercise I would ask my closest friends to do with me: we all laughed as hard as we could for 1 minute. Sounds easy, but it was quite a workout for everyone, and the effects lasted about a day. Most importantly, the exercise gave me some instant “lemonade” relief.

    1. mcullen Post author

      I’ll have to try laughing for a minute. . . sounds like a fun and wonderful idea!

    2. Karen Reid

      Thank you so much for making me laugh today, too. I loved your comment about laughter being the best workout. I called a friend the other day with a funny joke. My friend likes to laugh, too. He said he couldn’t talk at the moment but he’d call me back. By the time he called me back I couldn’t remember the joke. So my friend said, “Oh well, we’ll just laugh.” We both kind of chuckled, then laughed harder, then both of us were cracking up at the absurdity of laughing over nothing. Laughter is not only the best medicine, it’s free, so let’s all “laugh on”!

  3. Karen Reid

    Thanks for your reply here, James. Now I’m giving you and your wife something more to laugh about, as my memory is so bad now from all of the “good fine care” of the medical profession that I can’t remember if I answered this! At any rate, I’m thankful I can still laugh at myself and all the absurdities and ironies of the situations I seem to always find myself in. And I enjoy your writing too.

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