Last week was a tough one for me.  The election, of course, has cast dread and foreboding across the country and I've been consumed with fear for my friends and family who may be targets of the newly elected government. 

I am all for the protests.  Stop traffic, make a nuisance of yourselves - whatever it takes to get the media's attention and send a message to the in-coming government that we aren't going to stand for your racist bullshit. 

I know it's useless to argue with people on Facebook about the election, but there is something in me that makes me have to make a comment or an argument.  

Thursday I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  I have been on the cusp of the disease for several years, and this time around my sugar levels were elevated to the point of taking some action.  I have to monitor my sugar levels by pricking my fingertips and feeding my blood into a little machine and make some changes to my diet. 

Then on Sunday I found myself on the phone with someone near and dear who was in tears with fear over Trump and the attacks he and his administration may have in store for the LGBT community.  

Let's hope this week is better, although, it is starting out with me fighting a cold.

I seem to have lost my poetic voice.  Perhaps as my sorrow lessons the words will return.