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Archive for Negro Men In Medicine

MIDDLE PASSAGE AND THE MEMORIES OF A SLAVE~~~Fiction by Riveroflifelisajoy

Ma name is John Smith.

Ah, been in dis here plantation since a

was a young chile..sold offin’

my Mama befo’ I was ten.

But Ah memba’ my Mama face

and my Mama hands.

My Mama face wuz brown

tired and sad. 

She wore a ole’ faded

red head rag.   She would

take me wid her to clean

the chicken coups

and feed the cows.

Ah would play and chase

the chickens!

One day the master

of  da house came and

picked me out from

ma friends and told

my Mama it wuz time

fo’ me to go!

I wuz too big to

be playin’ anymo’.

The master sent ole’

Joe, the helper to carry me off

to the market to be

sold. 

Ah cried and kicked and

screamed fo’ my

Mama. 

She just stood a lookin’

after me and did not

move to help me!

Ah watched my Mama

grow tiny as the horse,

cart  pulled me and the otha’ slaves who

was packed into it away from

my birth plantation to a

new and dangerous beginin’!

Ah wuz sold to the Williams.

Mr. Williams was kind, but

his son was the mean one.

He liked to beat slaves fo’ nuthin’

and then leave um to die if they

put up a fuss.

He would jus’ buy mo’

slaves the next day.

The Williams plantation

was a cotton plantation.

Hard work, pickin’ cotton,

cuts up yo’ hands and stuff.

Ah grew big and strong.

I could carry three times my weight

on a good day.

So young master Williams took

good care uh me. 

But ah hated ta see

my friends suffer so.

One day we heard of the

UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.

Ah  decided to run awa’.

No, Ah told ye, that Master Williams

wuz good to me.  Ah just wanted to see

my Mama so bad.

Ah did not care about good treatment.

Ah wanted to be free! 

Ah made a chance run fo’ it

one night.

Ah wuz tryin’ ta meet

up wid the UnderGround RailRoad

in the forest.

Ah, made a mistake.

I told ole’ Buck, who curries the

Master’s horses.  He warn’ me

not to try it!  Ah, told him to minds his business!

I could out run any dog, or horse….cause the master

fed me the best food cause ah carried the heavy loads and pulled

plows when the horses went lame.

Sos’  I think that is why I wuz caught so fast.

When they draggs’ me back to the

plantation, there was ole’ Buck a lookin’

at me.  From a distance he kept gettin’

bigger, and bigger.  He stood right at

the wipping post and look at me….just starin’

and shaking his ole’ grey head.

When they tied me up I could see dried

blood where other slaves had been beat.

It wuz a cloudy day.

It wuz a hot night.

They found me in the day and wup me

deep into da night.

Young Master Williams took a break

from his workin’ my back, and

then told his workers to continue on

till the next mornin’ just wupin’

my back.

I stop yellin’ and then I don’t

member nothin after dat.

All I know is that I found ma’self

sittin up here wit Jesus, and da

Angels.

Oh, and I found Mama too!

Except  she got a big smile on

huh face, and she wearing a white

dress and she don’t look tired no’ mo’.

Fini~~~

Fiction Depiction of Slavery

by Riveroflifelisajoy

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Good Food Receipes for our Hearts! Taken from “46 Healthy SOUL FOOD RECIPES” BY The Stroke Association .org

I was at a job related function the other day,  and two very nice ladies came out to give a talk about health  and black Americans.  The asked us all to be ambassadors for health with them and pass out this information about Black American’s and their heart health.  So here goes……

The Booklet called 46 Healthy SoulFood Recipes was edited by Sandra K. Nissenberg,   the CEO  is Louis Weber,  President of the Magazine Division is Jerry l.Croft,  and the Editor -in – Chief is James M. O’Connor.  

ACCORDING TO AMERICAN HEART/AMERICAN STROKE ASSOCIATION —LEARN AND FACTS AND LIVE!

STROKE TARGETS BY COLOR!!!!

ACCORDING TO AMERICAN HEART ASSOCIATION/AMERICAN STROKE:

KNOW WHERE YOU STAND.  THE ODDS ARE AFRICAN AMERICANS ARE TWICE AS LIKELY TO SUFFER A STROKE AS WHITE AMERICANS.

BEATING THE ODDS ISN’T ABOUT WINNING.  IT’S ABOUT LIVING!!!

YOU HAVE THE POWER TO END STROKE. CALL:  1-888-4-STROKE/

STROKEASSOCIATION.ORG

(((THESE AND MOST OF THE FACTS IN THIS BLOG ARE TAKEN DIRECTLY FROM THE  BOOKLET ON HEALTHY EATING OF SOUL FOOD.  I (RIVEROFLIFELISAJOY) HAD PROMISED TO  GET THIS INFORMATION OUT TO EVERYBODY.  –EVEN AT CHURCH OR MY SON’S TENNIS ACADEMY!  SO I MUST ALSO SHARE WITH YOU MY FELLOW BLOGERS AND READERS OF POSTS.  I HAVE HIGHBLOOD PRESSURE, AND I HAVE TO MONITOR MY BLOOD PRESSURE JUST AS MANY OF US DO.  SO PLEASE TAKE ME SERIOUSLY AND PLEASE ENJOY THE RECEIPES I WILL BE POSTING UNDER THE SAME HEADING THE ONLY DIFFERENCE WILL BE THAT I GIVE A DATE AND STATE THAT IS IS RECEIPE  NUMBER ONE ETC.)))

 The book on healthy soul food has bright happy pictures and color appetizing food.  I will be cooking a meal from this booklet.  “Soul Food”  has everything from  soups, salads,  seafood, meats, poultry, vegetarian entrees, vegetables and sides,  breads, breakfasts, and of course my favorite….desserts!

I will give you a sample of the food after this quick discussion taken from the Soul Food Receipe book:

FOLLOW THE THREE “R”s TO HELP PROTECT YOURSELF AGAINST STROKE.

  • REDUCE your chances of having a stroke by learning the risk factors and working with your doctor.
  • RECOGNIZE THE WARNING SIGNS OF STROKE.  STROKE IS A MEDICAL EMERGENCY—EVERY SECOND COUNTS!
  • RESPOND BY CALLING 911 IMMEDIATELY IF YOU OR SOMEONE NEARBY IS EXPERIENCING THE WARNING SIGNS OF STROKE. THEN CHECK THE TIME THAT THE FIRST SYMPTOMS STARTED.  YOU’LL NEED THIS INFORMATION LATER.

FOLLOW THESE TIPS ACCORDING TO THE SOULFOOD BOOKLET:

“How to use these receipes:

To help you with meal planning, each recipe includes a nutrition analysis.  The following guidelines give some details about how the analyses are claculated.  Use the analyses to help determine how well a certain dish will fit into your overall eating plan.

Eat a variety of nutritious foods from all food groups.

Eat a diet rich in vegetables and fruits.

Choose whole-grain, high-fiber foods.

Eat fish, preferably oily fish, at least twice a week.

Limit foods that are high in calories but low in nutrients,

Limit how much saturated fat, trans fat, and cholestrol you eat.

Cut back on beverages and foods with added sugars.

Choose and prepare foods with little or not salt.

If you drinkalcohol, drink in moderation.

Read nutrition facts labels and ingredients list when you shop.

((According to the booklet on HEALTHY SOULFOOD RECEIPES  —–

FOR more information on the updated American Heart Association Dietary and Lifestyle Recommendations, visit americanheart.org.

oKAY….LETS GET TO ATLEAST one RECEIPE TODAY….SHALL WE?

RECIPE #1~~~BLACK-EYED PEA SOUP

1 14.5-ounce can fat-free, low-sodium chicken broth

2  smoked ham hocks (about 1 pound)

16 ounces frozen black-eyed peas

1 14.5-ounce can no-salt-added diced tomatoes

1/4  teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled

1/8  teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

1/4  teaspoon salt

In a large sauce pan, bring the broth to a boil over high heat.  Stir in the remaining ingredients except the salt.  Return to a boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes, or until the peas are very tender. Remove from the heat.

Stir in the salt.  Let stand for 10 minutes so the flavors blend; the standing time is very important in this receipe. Discard the ham hocks before lading the soup into soup bowls.

Per serving:  calories 183, Total Fat 1.0 g. Saturated Fat0.0 g. Polyunsaturated Fat 0.5 g. Monounsaturated Fat 0.0g g. Cholesterol 0 mg. Sodium 218 mg. Cabohydrates 34 g. Dietary Fiber 7 g. Sugars 3 g. Protein 12 g.

Dietary Exchanges:  2 starch, 1 vegetable, 1 very lean meat

This is one of many installments of receipes from the “46 Healthy Soul Food Receipes”  Booklet from the American Heart Association /American Stroke Association.

Try this receipe and let me know how you liked it!  Or better yet, if you have ideas of your own for healthy SOULFOOD cooking…blog it and share it so we can all live heart healthy!

Till next blog,

riveoflifelisajoy!

 

 

FOND MEMORIES OF MY FATHER DURING THE HOLIDAYS AND BEYOND!

LIFE STARTS HERE.jpgToo often it has been stated that black men are not there for their children,  or men in general are slacking off from their responsibilities.  I have a different perspective.

 My father was a WWII African American Veteran.  He was on the front lines of  that war,  from the way he described it to me when I was a kid. 

I used to love to listen to  him tell stories about work,  or some about the Army Reserve. 

My father had been given a waiver and also given a license to practice as a Practical Nurse when he came out of the service of the United States Army.

  He  became an Army Reservist.  He was a Sgt.  in the Army Reserve. When I was a child he would take me to the Army off of Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, NY.  I used to love it there during the Christmas  Holiday!  That place was so gigantic to a small child. 

I would run and play amongst the army tanks, and jeeps!  I loved the smell of the gasoline, and heavy metal vehicals.  That was my second home when my father would take me there for parties, to get my gift from “Santa.”!  

  Upstairs in the rooms where the party with Santa was held, there were so many rooms.  The other children and I would sneak from “secret room to secret room” until our parents would call us to come sit on Santa’s lap!  My father would always know everybody there. 

 When I think back,  I did not know what “racism” was until I got into my teens.  My father was friendly with every army reservist there!  There was laughter, and jokes and smiles,  pats on the back and introductions to the other families and their children! 

 I recently found a letter from him to my mother when he was on Army Reserve upstate at Camp Drum.  This letter had been written in 1960’s.  He was telling my mother to pick up his check from the hospital where he worked. 

 He also said that he missed her at the end of his letter.  That was touching to me because it seem that when became severely overcome by diabetes his attittude had changed toward my mother. 

 He eventually passed  when I was 21 years old, from an enlarged heart, and kidney failure.  He suffered trememdously  from  diabetes! 

 I remember watching my father give himself a needle in the stomach.  He had been put in the hospital a couple of times. 

But one thing I noticed about my father, was that he refused to stay home from work.  He went to work everyday. 

He had two jobs.  He worked in what was then called Brooklyn Jewish Hospital,  and Creedmoor Children’s Hospital.

  He would leave for work at 10:00 p.m. and not return home until the next day at 5:00p.m.  My mother would have dinner prepared,  he would take his shower and go straight to bed. 

 He never got many hours of sleep at home. He worked in the Emergency Room at Brooklyn Jewish Hospital at night.  He worked at Creedmoor Children’s Hospital during the day. 

He provided a large bungalo house with a big yard for his family.  My mother called him a WORKAHOLIC!!

His major concern was  that my mother provide him with clean clothes, and dinner.  He could handle the rest. 

On the weekend my father would take me to the park after he had had some sleep. 

He would make sure I had done my chores and then the rest of the afternoon was my time with him!  He loved to play handball with people he had met in the park while I ran around with my friends at the  playground. 

 I never had a bad experience at that park in Cambria Heights Queens NewYork!  As I got older the movies with Bruce Lee came out and my father and I truly enjoyed everyone of those on Saturdays.  

 I remember seeing “Enter the Dragon and a whole host of other movies!”  I became so involved that I started buying Karate Magazine and my father  enrolled me in the Jerome Mackey Karate School. 

 I took up judo!  The Karate Teacher looked very mean and he yelled alot.  So I took judo instead.  I loved being tossed about. 

Except for one time that my judo partener  did a move I did not expect and tossed me so hard that my bottom lip slid across the canvas mat. 

 My feelings were hurt and I never returned to that judo class again. 

 You see,  I loved the sport….but I was a bit shy,  and did not really like the violent part. 

 But  looking back now I realize how I must have had a deep crush on Bruce Lee,  because when he died I was heart broken—for a long while. 

 I read the book on his life and death.  I met my husband when I was 28 and don’t you know it —my husband had two black belts?

  I was shocked.  He had a black belt in IKEJUJITSU  and Korean Karate—oh,  and he also had a black belt in sword, and weapons fighting too

  I was floored,  and excited that I was marrying someone who had such skill.

—-Getting back to my father,  he purchased an above ground five foot 20 or more round swimming pool which he very rarely used himself.

  It was for the family –and he worked so he was more interested in sleeping!  My father allowed my mother to express herself in decorating.

  He even assisted her in opening up an antique shop on Jamacia Avenue in 1965! 

  He was a special man and He was a SPECIAL BLACK AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN!!!!   

  In closing I would like to state that we must remember the good in aALL MEN!!

  No one is perfect.  But try to remember the best in the people you have met.  There are always opportunities to build up your husbands and fathers. 

 Let’s try to decrease some of the negative press against the Black/African American Men,  and Men of ALL RACES for that matter. 

Show a man in your life that you care, and that you appreciate the kind and good things that they do for you.

    It is always easy to find the weaknesses and the errors—But for the sake of your children build up their selfesteem by being role models that they will remember up until they are middle age 47 year old  woman like myself.

  What you do today will defintely last a life time, and will go to the next generation after you are gone! 

 Enjoy the Holidays, and keep safe!

Dangerous! Dangerous! Plastic Surgery…the tragic Loss of Kanye West’s Mom, Donda

Elective surgery is just that,  ELECTIVE. 

Plastic surgery needs to be called or renamed something else.  Stop making “light” of invasive techniques that augment a person’s appearance. 

 When I was a kid I thought that “plastic surgery”  was not “real” surgery.  I thought that a person went into a operating room and came out beautiful—with out pain and glowing!  

 I thought that women came out in a yesteryear “Greek” goddess dress ( toga) and men came out in a white toga too! 

Suddenly they would look years younger and the bags under their eyes,  the dark circles would be gone. 

I thought it was a simple process!   Then that show called EXTREME MAKEOVERS came on TV and forever changed my view of “plastic surgery forever! 

 If you noticed,  they never took candidates for plastic surgery if they were obese!  You had to be in good basic health. 

 If you were slightly heavy they would not take you.  They would make you shake off those extra pounds with an extreme make over exercise person before the surgery!  Then the pain of the surgery, and recovery room and hospital stay would be shown. 

 But they never allowed someone to go home or to the hotel room immediately afterward!  

That is what happened to dear Kanye’s Mom  D0nda!   Look,  the doctor does not have to live or love his patient—but he is supposed to look out for that patient’s health. 

 The medical oath that all doctors take states,”First…DO NO HARM!”   I read the  blurb on this Doctor,  who just happened to be in California,  had a television show,  was black,  and good looking. 

 That should be a great thing!  But instead it spelled out a very deadly perscription in this case.  I cried today looking at the picture of Kanye and his Mom. 

 I could see the love between Mother and Child—not Kanye West (the rapper)  but instead I saw the look on his face in the AOL Black Voices blog on  the last pictures that were taken for Essence Magazine. 

I saw the pictures of Kanye when he was a baby and his Mom was holding him in her arms and talking to him….So sweet,  so gentle was her picture with her new baby.  I heart hurts to think of this tragic unnessesary loss! 

 She was only 58 years young!  She was a symbol of success  for the young black,  white,  brown young men and young women today.  She had been a college professor in California and she also had been a Fulbright Scholar!!! 

 This woman was an icon for me!  So what went wrong?  Mistakes do happen.  Not the doctor—he did not make a mistake—the doctor,  after the autopsy results come in will have a different out c0me.  The mistake that was made might have been through trusting him to know what he was doing. 

 The mistake was believing that he had his patient’s best interest at heart.  But really,  how would the patient know?  This is difficult to answer.  No one knows what was stated between the doctor and his patient.  No one knows the promises that had been made. 

But I will describe a situation that I went through and maybe that might help to ease some of the pain…..but for me the pain is there.  Although I did not know Donda West,  I feel like she was a “sister in my head”–she was everything I am striving to be—well educated,  my son successful at whatever he wants to be in life,  and she herself making a difference in life by being an educator!  

Such a tragic waste of such a beautiful woman!

A couple of years ago,  I had a lump or nodule,  a tumor inside my left cheek.  I do not know when it got there….but it was there. 

It would not bother me most of the time.  Since it was inside my mouth it would sit on top of my bottom left molar.  It did not bother me until I had something to eat. 

Then I had to keep adjusting it so I could chew my food.  God forebid I eat a piece of meat….sometimes I would bite that stupid lump so hard by mistake I would see stars!!!! 

 So of course to make a long story short I had a referral from my doctor to see a surgeon.  A ‘HEAD AND NECK’ surgeon to be exact.  He  was quite handsome to say the least! 

He looked like the dark foreboding Dr.  Killdare  if any of you are old enough to remember that black and white television show a about the ever so serious Dr. Killdare. 

Well anyway after I got over my doctors good looks,  I began to dislike him tremedously!!! 

 I was afraid of the surgery for the  most part.  I thought he was not telling me everything.

  I thought that I had oral cancer and he was trying to keep me calm by not discussing it in detail.  He gave me a date of the surgery.  He told me I would not be hospitalized, and said that I would not be given general sedation. 

 I was unhappy after he said that.  Why you ask?  I am a BIG,  BIG,  BIG BABY !  that is why!  What do you mean no sedation?!!!! 

 I have to have it!  I can not take knowing that you are digging around in my mouth and I am awake to see, hear,  smell,  taste blood and all that! 

What if that lump has a big root and  you have to yank on it or somthing?!!!  I was too through with my handsome Dr.  Killdare—he was mean,  evil uggggggh!!!!! 

I think he thought I was a bit nutty but I did not care!  I called up and spoke to the medical center where the surgery was to be preformed.  I spoke to the head surgeon. 

 He calmed me down.  He asked me some questions about my general health and I told him.  He said that he would make sure that I was comfortable and not to worry.

  Because worry would not be good for your surgery.  Try to take it easy.  Well, a friend of mine who is a police officer accompanied me with my son and he waited outside.  I was dressed in my hospital gown and given my little green surgery hat. 

 Uggggh!!!  The butterflies began to grow in my stomach and crawl up my throat into my neck.  I started to shiver a bit inside my gut,  after I laid in the bed and looked around. 

 I saw a young teenager.  I saw an older woman,  and other surgery patients recoperating.  The room was very large.

 A nurse approached me and asked me two times, “What is your name?  How old are you?  Please come and get on the scale.”  Then the jokes started. 

“What are you having today?  Oh,  you have a little nodule in your mouth….you must have been telling lies to get that!!! Aha,  aha!!! chuckle,  chuckle! 

I tried to smile,  but no matter what that nurse said to make me laugh I could not stop thinking about what was coming next. 

All I could think of was some type of WOODY ALLEN scene with me jumping off of the table and being held down by the doctor and the nurses while they attempted to yank this stupid lump out of my left cheek. 

 I also pictured being disfigured because the lump was about an inch long.  Oh, Lord,  have mercy,  help me Lord.  I said the psalm 23,  and asked G0d to give me the strength. 

As I was laying there another  person approached and asked me my name two times( to make sure I guess)  and then he started to talk about sedation. 

 I told him that I need to sleep.  I do not want to know what is going on in this surgery.  He said that it is dangerous to go to sleep.  He will make sure that I do not feel anything but it is dangerous to go to sleep. 

 He also asked me two times about my general health.  Figure the math,  I am overweight etc.  so that was definitely not a good sign for the gentleman with the sedation. 

He walked away.  Then here came Dr. Killdare—(as handsome and mean as ever!)  “Oh-come on!!  he said, beginning to get annoyed with my childish behavior you do not need general sedation!!!  It is a little thing in there!!!!  Just let me give you a local and you will be fine.  You know how it is?!  Just like when you go to the dentist!” 

Look,  I said,  I do not handle dental appointments very well.  I had been through something as a kid and I cannot take a needle to be put in my mouth without something to calm me.  I am afraid I may jump up and cause myself more problems. 

Please,  Please I begged Dr. Killdare—-I need sedation inorder to cope with this! So he did authize a mild sedation.  The gentleman that gave it to me,  told me to count backwards and then all I remember was waking up a little and I heard the doctor tell me to open my mouth more. 

 I heard him tell the nurse to “take that for biopsy.”  I closed my eyes again and then I was told to wake up and move very slowly to the next gurney. 

I was wheeled back to my recovery location.  I was really feeling weak,  tired, and dizzy.  But that surgery was over and my mouth had a slight swelling on the inside…but no more stupid LUMP!  

Praise the Lord!  When I opened my eyes I saw a woman across from me.  I don’t know what she had but she was moaning and   her face looked terrrible. 

I think she had a face lift or something.  This was not a hospital.  This place was only for same day,  same day home surgery!  There were packs of blood around her and clear tubes with it moving slowly through them. 

I could not tell if it was being given to her or it was being taken away from her.  It all looked to complicated and messy. 

 Then I understood why Dr. Killdare was so annoyed with me.  I am a big silly baby!!!!  My fearless Dr. Killdare came to my side and said, “How are you feeling?’ 

I felt quite stupid—so I smiled and sheepishly said,”Fine” through the gauze in my mouth.  He said that I had to stay another hour or so. 

 I was not to drive for atleast one week.  He gave me an appointment to come in and see him for a follow up and to get the test results from the lab. 

I received instructions on how to eat.  and then he teased me and said….Wait until it heals….you won’t even know that there ever was anything there!” 

I liked Dr. Killdare again.  I survived. 

But,  I also was being a bad patient at one point because he was trying to make sure that I did not have any complications with sedation.  They have given me a mild one and I did alright.  Thank God. 

Sometimes life can be complicated,  and tragic.  I hope all of us start to listen to the no-s from our doctors,  and the yeses too.  Always get a second opinion and even a third if you are still not happy. 

 Check out your Doctors credentials too.  Becareful out there.  Surgery is not anyting to play with!  Especially Elective,  PLASTIC SURGERY!!!! 

Please handle your health conditions with care and careful consideration before walking into the pre-op room. 

Know what you are getting yourself into.  And take every percaution possible. 

Listen to your doctor —it will save your life!

  Remember,  love yourself,  love your family—take care of yourselves!

I am Not my Mother: The Desparity of Black Family Income to White Family Income–Does it Really Matter?

duckies at playI grew up in a house hold that was definitely black middle class.  But what happened to me?  Why am I doing so badly? 

My IQ is suffering here.  I just read  information according to the Stanford News Release from 1994 which is a kind of interesting look back to the attitudes of that time period.  I found  the “Bell Curve” discussion and how it relates to the black income and the white income based on intelligence. 

Well,  my black husband became Paranoid Skizophrenic—-That stupid taboo disease that people are afraid to talk about!  Mental illness tends to strike a cord of laughter in some people —BLACK OR WHITE!!!—

I am not my mother relates to the life that she was living when  she was 47 and the life I now live at 47 years old.  I am severely financially strapped!   I am on definite hard times!  But is it because I have a Low IQ?  

 I attended and completed 69 Credits at Queens College and then  attended  Nyack College to fill in the total number of 128 credits to accomplish my bachelors degree.   I have only 3 more Life Experience essays to complete my Bachelor of Science in Organizational Managment. 

I completed my course work for the major Organizational Management.  I wrote a thesis called “How to Increase Productivity of Related Service Providers and Teaching Staff of the ABC School. ”  The thesis had a power point presentation, and a 28 question survey that I computed the tally of the information of  those people who took the survey.  After I completed the graphs I had over 100 pages of thesis.  I received an A-.  I did all this while working a full time –40 hour work week and caring for my elderly mother, and my son.  

 The essays are only for the completion of electives which can be on any topic so long as it displays “LEARNING ACHIEVED ACADEMICALLY.” 

 I play instruments and I write music.  But that does not put food on the table.  My day job puts food on the table!  But it is not enough money! 

I have good health benefits—but not enough cash flow for entertainment,  food,  utilities,  and even  nessecities. 

I have been getting my food at the food pantry too for the past few weeks.  (Food Pantry are several  a local churches  that receive donations and give it out to the general public in the community.)  No proof of need required.  

I am scared every second because of the rise in the gasoline prices,  food prices,  sneaker prices(for my son),  even sanitary napkins draw fear from my heart!   EVERY THING IS EXPENSIVE!!!  My son, my mother and myself use a expensive Scott  Toilet paper!!!! 

 My  problem is that I have 19 years on my job.  To start all over is  not a good idea for me at this time.

** PROBLEM  FOR THOSE IQ CHALLENGED:  My little family has medical problems.

Remember I am a black woman,  over weight,  gaped toothed,  prematurely grey, and pleasant enough. 

 But then is my problem>—IS MY IQ HOLDING ME BACK FROM COMING UP TO SOLUTIONS TO MY FINANCIAL DILEMA?

  Who will help me—this poor black talented  woman who plays a classical instrument (the cello), writes prose,  and poetry,  short stories, and has written copyrighted songs. 

I want help but every body comes with some type of  strings attached ,  or will not help without a dollar to be paid from my pocket to theirs. 

 So I can not move to another job—until my life gets stable!—Stability is based on the medical condition of my son and my  mother!

  Before we get to the desparity between my white counter part Baby Boomers–let us see the desparity between my mother and me–so you will not confuse us.

My mother lived in her house for nearly 40 years.  I lived in my house for only 4 years.  I had a house with three kitchens,  two full bathrooms, and  1 bathroom with a shower in the basement. 

I had a black top driveway and a tennant that lived up on the second floor and a great amount of loving pets….Now all gone from my life.  My mom was an anmal lover and my Dad allowed her to have cats and dogs!!! 

My Mom was a house wife!!!  I was only home when my son was born for 11 months .  Afterward I went back to work I started looking for my first house.

  But lost it in four years!–Of course due to my husband’s illness. 

 My father did have diabetes….but it never prevented him from working.  My father was well known for being a work horse!!! 

 My father took his diabetes medicine by needle in his stomach.  But he still jumped up at 9pm and got to work so he could provide for his family. 

 My husband became so separated from reality that he thought my son and I were not his original wife and child—we were imposters as far as he was concerned! Due to the skizophrenia,  my husband became missing from our lives for nearly ten years now. Truly a tragic situation!

 My mother  attended political functions all the time.  She was get dressed up  in sequin gowns and go to dinner dances of the elected officials when I was a kid. 

I on the other hand do not go out to dinner unless it is I – Hop,  once in a while TGIFridays maybe every two years.  I never get invited to go to any place because people know that I cannot afford a nice dress, or new shoes!  I do not even own a pair of earrings! 

  Look my money pays the rent, etc.  So I take care of my family….What else new? 

So  mainly the disparity starts between me and my mother….MAYBE MY MOTHERS IQ IS HIGHER THAN MIND?!!! 

  My father was a black  WWII veteran.  Imagine how difficult that must have been.  He became a waivered Practical Nurse….on the front lines—that means he could do minor surgery—like stitch up a wound or something. 

I saw my father in action.  He did minor surgery on  my dog one time after the dog got cut on our hurricane fence while playing with the next door neighbor’s dog!  My father stitched the dog—no infections no vet visit!!! Amazing!!!  So where were his  African American IQ issues?!!!  —

My father kept two jobs at all times.  He used his nursing skill in a hospital emergency room,  and also in a children’s hospital during the day!  My father was also are Army Reservist Sgt.  in the Brooklyn Army off off Atlantic when I was a kid.

  My father died of diabetes when I was 21 years old.  I am 47 years old today—and I am a failure in comparison to him.  He held two jobs,  and owned his own house with the two car garage, and swiming pool too! 

 The house was big and bright and cheery!  I have in the opposite—I do not even have living room furniture at this point.  I have decent beds for the family.  But the high price of a couch is just to much for me on my own.  I cannot get a loan from any where because of  bankruptcy due to my single parent status,  no child support status from a missing  sick husband!!! 

So I guess my failure is that I am well educated but some how not functioning at peak to raise my income to the level of atleast $80,000.00 in the next year or so….matter of fact—at my age—who would want my abilities at this late stage of the game?    

My parents owned a house in Springfield Gardens Queens and were  able to put a pool in the back yard and still had room–plenty of room to spare. 

 My mother had an Irish female friend and they went into business together.  They used to drive to Brooklyn and buy antiques!!!  I told you—my father did well for a black man back in the 60’s and 70’s.

My father paid off the house before he died!   There were many issues with the house that I will discuss later.

 The actual point I am making is about my lack of financial Security—and wealth. 

Since my husband got sick,  he has been missing for 10 years total! 

I have to  feed, honour, and protect my son and my mon—So how does one do it? 

I cannot jump from one job to the next….It is better to hold on and pray at this time for me. 

Do I have an IQ problem?  Is that is what is holding me back from wealth like that of my white female friend who is married to a wealthy white man? 

Actually then  maybe she just married smart!   But there are not that many wealthy black men to chose from. 

They usually marry the white or non-black females—You know the Trophy Wives!!! Just like Kim Kardasshian! Talked about today in Black Voices AOL.   I can say this because I had a White female  friend who had  stated that she was her husband’s trophy   during  the time that my husband got sick and she was having to cope with a marriage that she wanted to get out of. 

 My friends problem that she already had two children by her husband.  But she could not take his “mood” swings.  She loved her husband dearly and she loved her too, but he was prone to outbursts of severe anger.

  She also did not get along with his family.  They were living in an apartment in his parents house and she did not like the conditions of the apartment. 

 I was not in that condition.  I loved my husband and I tried to cope with my inlaws.  But my husband got sick nonetheless, and his family blamed me for this entire situation. —What a mess!

  So,  maybe it is an IQ thing. 

 I will follow up later with my desparity with my White Cohort Baby Boomers and their financial stability in opposition to my financial instability.  

The following web sites  are the actual articles to which I am making reference on the ‘BELL CURVE DISCUSSION’:

http://www.boston.com/businessglobe/articles/2007/11/13black_white_income_gap_grew_since_70s_2007-grew since the 2007

http://news-service.standford.edu/pr/94/941109Arc4057.html