i was at the grocery store yesterday and the cashier didn't have change. this was the first thing that started the annoyance feeling. she wanted me to buy something else so she wouldn't have to give me so much change. she wondered if i wanted more biscuits or maybe some chocolate. i finally relented and bought raisins. then, before i realized what happened, she swiped the preferred customer card of the woman behind me in line. no, i didn't reap any discount advantages BUT the woman behind me got a significant boost in her customer loyalty points. i asked the woman, "did she just swipe your card?" the woman responded, "well, if she did, that was her mistake. it doesn't make a difference to you." i replied, "no, you GAVE her your card, BEFORE it was your turn. that's dishonest." really, who cares if she got my points? but i was amazed that she tried to blame it on the cashier AND that she didn't even ask if i minded before underhandedly slipping the cashier her card. watch out folks, these seemingly innocent aunties at reliance fresh are NOT so innocent (eww, Britney Spears).
Today's Rare Disease Day. There's sometimes a particular weightiness to life with a rare disease. All the appointments, emergencies, traumas, doctors, therapists, medicines, opinions, schedules and upset schedules. My touchpoint is being mom to my precious girl with Wiedemann-Steiner Syndrome (WSS). You'd have to spend a day or week shadowing me to know what it's really like. Doesn't that sound alienating? As though you couldn't possibly imagine if you're not living it? Well, maybe. But think about a time of immense grief you've lived through, or a time when your world seemed to be falling apart around you and it felt like everyone else was completely unaffected. I suppose it's a bit like that. You might have thought that those around you couldn't possibly know how that experience felt to you. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a list of all the extraordinary things that happened in my life due to my daughter's rare disease. I learned a c...
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