Lil’ Murph’s human grandfather has received disturbing & heart-crushing news from the doctor (we will be wanting a 2nd opinion/diagnosis) & he is having other difficulties as well.

My Love for lizards, especially our (all of our) Murph will not subside, however, we may not be busy here at lizardplanet.com.

You should know Murph is very well & eating actual food dipped in calcium powder!! You who know him know he is stubborn, he is, however, insisting I hand-feed him … or he just won’t eat.

[Sigh] He’s so worth it. It’s fine with me.

I want to thank many for their ongoing support.

Importantly, “Thank you” from the Murphster & myself to the ones whom impressively, instantaneously support our postings. They blow my mind!

I think of them as “The First Responders”, “The Instant Seers”, “The Handful Of True Friends” Some have said you never truly have more than in life (though I am referring to this blogly).

May be preoccupied here. We will mostly be hangin’ on the sidelines for a spell, as we think, plan, hope, & fight for some time.

We live an hour from my Dad – where his, my old stomping grounds, is no longer safe(ish). Someone attempted to enter his home again recently, this time by kicking in the back door. Dad has protection, but he is still vulnerable to one or more 200 lb. men with bad intentions.

I was / am rewarded to have a happy childhood with my irreplaceable Mom & Dad. God(s) must have smiled upon me briefly here & there, or maybe I did something right in my last life to be with such beautiful souls.

It seems in hindsight, that everyday was bright & beautiful then. For a period of life as a naive, rebellious teenager, Mom knew I wasn’t invincible, & sent a large, intimidating family member with me as my bodyguard when I insisted I could walk alone at night to friends’ houses (long story). She protected me better than I protected her later on.

It was a really cool neighborhood – the layout of the streets, the placement of the old amber-colored street lights, the energy, the creeks, the awesome thing next to the neighborhood (a very, very popular place for events)!!! For decades, the teenagers of the area have known the back-end way to sneak into it – just for fun! Go to ‘the tails’, take the correct path which veers to the right- not the left, we know where that goes – to the totem poles, the Hobo Bill trails, the strip mall & railroad tracks. Next, hobble down to the creek, straddle a concrete wall, avoid wet feet from the creek, slip under that fence above the concrete wall, then around stated concrete wall, go at night, & BAM! You’re in! Everything about the area was unique.

When I drive to visit Dad, I still feel like I’m going home, but the changes I witness burden my heart.

I relish in the ‘What once was’ and see the phantom past as memories of walking with my friends from back in day fly by like shadows before my mind’s eye. It all seems like another life ago, almost another me.

I remember the drive home from Grandma & Grandpa’s house on Sunday nights. Back then we weren’t forced to wear seat belts. When we got close to the old neighborhood, I’d remove my belt to lay on the floorboard of the car. I’d faintly hear Mom & Dad conversing in the front. I knew when we reached the curved street that led to our court (now called by some, a cul-de-sac) because the rhythm of the road’s creases beneath the tires were obvious, I loved the sound. Strangely, it sounded this way only in Dad’s car.

As a teenager, these rides home consisted of me with my “Walkman” headphones upon my ears. I replaced the occasional chatter of my parents & rhythm of the road with the sounds of a cassette tape, “Guns N’ Roses” or something similar. If I knew then what I know now, those headphones would have been reserved for only my walks to the bus stop, or wherever else I chose to go instead. I’d love to hear my parents together again in the front seat! They would be married 55 years today. I haven’t reminded Dad of that. Maybe he’d want to know, I don’t know

My wonderful father, for many years has spent much money helping his sister remain independent after an accident that should have left her paralyzed around 50 years ago. As I understand it, he remained with her for 6 weeks after the hospital release, helping her with therapy so that she may walk.

It worked! She had only a slight hiccup in her get-along as I was growing up. She even took me to her local shopping mall. Now she is declining with age, including her organ functions.

Dad worked 7 days a week for years as I was growing up. Sometimes he would be home for only 4 hours before his work called to see if he could return to fix problems that occurred in his absence. I didn’t like those people as I entered his room to see him sleeping peacefully.

I sometimes said, “Dad” a few times – ever so gently & regrettably before he stirred from slumber. I then had to hand the phone to him as the disturber on the other end explained the problem & awaited to know if Dad had it in him to return to help them. Of course, Dad often did & received much ‘over-time’ pay.

He made enough money to give his family – my Mom & myself, the best life he could. Mom never drove a car. She either had a ride from a friend, or we walked, or took a taxi everywhere, even to & from carnivals & the mall. While I watched other mothers walk with their kids to their cars & leave when they were ready, we had to keep checking if newly approached cabs in front of the main entrance of the mall was the one for us. But, I wouldn’t change that now. That cost Dad more money. Mom wasn’t proud of it, but that’s how it was.

Dad also shared his financial well-being (ish) with his own parents eventually. His father was a hard worker as well, supporting his family best he could until he couldn’t. My Dad supported his 4 children from his previous marriage, including my lovely, older sisters.

Regarding my Mom, I won’t explain my fights with nursing homes, and the changes they implemented because of these tiny, embittering battles for the better (slightly) care of all that resided therein (at the last place she stayed) (though it wasn’t enough). I won’t mention her constant medical needs, nor how I was at one of my life’s lowest points at the same time I visited Mom, observing her suffering & slow death.

Dad visited her nearly every day, sometimes the 3 of us were together there. He was a wonderful husband and remains the strong & intelligent father with a sense of humor like no other that I’ve always known! He has helped extended family, grandchildren, & nearly strangers.

He has given so much that he has refinanced his home multiple times. Now he owes much on a home that needs repairs, when in reality, he made enough money to have paid for it long ago.

He always has given so much. He use to take my friends & I out to eat in the wee hours of the morning after working as much as I stated. He told me just last week that he enjoyed doing it – making us happy, watching us enjoy our meals & the exciting time out with him, hearing us talk about any cute boys that ever walked into the restaurant, & so on. I didn’t know he enjoyed it. I thought he did it because he loved me, now I know he loves me even more than I thought & felt, because he felt joy from it. It wasn’t just like a favor. It was and is a truest love.

There is an Assisted Living home for seniors near me. Thankfully, his pension & social security will allow his stay, but they do not accept the insurances. This takes nearly everything, and as his level of care increases, so does the cost. He would no longer be able to help his sister or anyone. This will sadden him so. She will have to go into a nursing home where she will surely deteriorate mentally, spiritually, & physically.

At the assisted living location, Dad can only have a visitor for 30 minutes a day!

After moving him in, which would take hours, I can never sit with him upon the couch. We must stay in the visiting room. I can take him to appointments, but he will be quarantined to his tiny “apartment” for 14 days afterwards. If the diagnosis is correct & he is not miraculously healed, the appointments will increase and he will be a prisoner with no family in his life but me & free for appointments only. This is bullsh** okay.

I iterate: With an unwanted & undeserving medical diagnosis and all the upcoming appointments, he (& so many parents and grandparents in a similar situation) will be a lonely prisoner all the remainder of his days/years when he is not at an appointment with me, providing I am capable to take him on those days. He will be confined (jailed) to his room for the rest of his life. This is nuts!

It is my opinion, people are approaching all this ridiculously & are too accepting of these authoritative/dictating responses to this sickness!! It is not the “deadliest virus that has ever struck humanity” (dare I say, it may be just another damn flu bug with a very high survival rate for the healthy, like most other colds & flu)!

Seriously, I won’t get someone sick if I visit Dad for 30 minutes, but I may after an hour? I can’t sit in the visitors room for 2 hours? His other daughters & nearly all grandchildren & great-grandchildren (around 25 of them) live roughly 2 hours away, 2 of his grandsons are about 6 hours away, & they, we, are “allowed” to visit only 30 minutes & not even privately??!!

Oh yeah, here’s a kicker: We can reserve a room to eat a meal together! So wait, does that mean I don’t spread germs when I sit down to chew?! A squirt bottle on the jet stream mode will spray water through the masks most people are wearing, but they magically don’t let microscopic things through?! Also, do we have to hurry & eat without conversing so we are outta there in 30?!

One of the hospital’s employees said there’s a small spike in cases of ‘the bug’. This is a place where everyone wears masks. Is it possible, is it just possible these thin little rags everyone wears do not work? There have been doctors to claim the thin masks don’t work, as well. They won’t let us hear that on mainstream media though. And those doctors that believe it to be scientifically true … well, their jobs demand they don a piece of fabric, like a doily upon their faces, regardless, and so they are worn. Fear. Fear of reprimand, fear of opinions, fear of punishments, fear of job loss. When or where does it end?

I think many of our elders would rather live their last days living, if given the choice. They are given no choice. They are prisoners being lied to. Many in “Assisted Living” places think they will drive again, go to a store or out to eat with their family. They are told these “Covid rules” will be lifted one day. I know this because I’ve talked to the kind people working there. They have to keep their jobs and try to keep morale up. It’s the people running the cities & towns enforcing these conditions, as well as business owners & facility operators who believe restrictions & all that feel good safety stuff is what everyone wants, so they create these rules. Harsh & unconventional rules.

They will be lifted when people declare, “Enough is enough!” & not in the form of riots, but by making the wheels of economy & ‘freedom to choose’ turn again. This is all being dictated. Quarantining of the healthy is not right. You quarantine the sick. It’s not like Ebola or the Walking Dead germ we’re dealing with here. What a Maskquerade!! It’s like there’s a lot of Cairman Maos running around & they’re all getting minions.

We all have our own stories about how this bug & the dictators (& now rioters on top of all that making situations worse) have affected our lives, jobs, home security, life savings, health & life insurances, life, liberty & the pursuit of happiness & so on. So, when is it enough? How much will be taken from lives? To what extent will we allow the well-being of our parents & grandparents be robbed?

Dictators chose which businesses would fail & which will thrive. Small family business that see 50 people a day must close, & possibly lose their savings or their homes, but a Wal-Mart (where people can remove their masks to eat) that may see 400 people a day stays open. Does this make sense? Who gets to decide where the line is drawn? We Do. We really do, before it’s too late. I am seeing many mask-less people walk right past the signs in businesses stating a mask must be worn to enter. Why? Because people are sick of this sh**!

It’s not because they don’t care about others, it’s about personal choice & freedom…. “You want to wear a mask to feel safer, wear a mask, then. You live with an elderly person & don’t want to risk it, by all means, please don’t risk it. But don’t tell me I don’t have a right to choose what I do with my own body!” Isn’t that the beloved phrase women use when they want to murder their unborn babies??!! I’m sure some people get looks by some of these women thinking, “How dare you not wear a mask, are you trying to kill me?!” Maybe they’re hypocrites or brainwashed, or both. Shouldn’t that same logic of freedom of choice apply to everything then?

It’s another form of division: black & white, Republican & Democrat, healthy, not, & potentially not healthy, masked & un-masked, & so on. I choose to fight as hard as I can to protect my Dad and prevent him from being a prisoner, at least more so a prisoner than what many governors, mayors, & businesses are TRYING to make us be already.

I am currently trying to find a way & the funds to get Dad out of the home I don’t even want to let go of, & then convert a garage into a bedroom & bathroom here at our home so Dad can be with me.

I am not trying to offend anyone. I don’t expect or need any comments, a ‘like’ will do, or no like, if you don’t like it is understandable too. I simply felt compelled to share this so that others may know how this is all affecting other wonderful parents & grandparents. My bitter feelings about these situations aside, our elders need our help. I hope people with the means to change this for them make it so. Spread the news.

If you wish to add to a fund for Murph, there is a donate button on the homepage of lizardplanet.com. If you want to help a facility that helps reptiles or would like to adopt a beautiful lizard, but need guidance, please leave a comment or visit the ‘contact’ page found within the ‘menu’ icon. We’ll help as soon as we can.

“Give me Lizardry or give me Death!” – Dawn Renée

“Give me Liberty or give me Death!” – Patrick Henry