#mavis has showed me the importance of that for your health

[entriprises]

detective bradley memes

[sarcasticcebby]

A Good Nurse

Wilmina Mavis was a person who enjoyed causing pain and she was going to die soon. There are many other things to know about her but those are the first and most important on the list. 

Ms. Mavis was a career woman working in pharmaceutical research until about six years ago when she was retired. Or was “retired”  but the end result was the same; decades of working and no real financial strain gave Ms. Mavis quite the little nest egg and she went about her days doing what she liked to do. 

It started going downhill when her former maid, Ingred or Mary can't remember,  was rushed to the emergency room with a compound fracture in her arm- a total accident where the longtime employee slipped on a top step and the bottom met her quite enthusiastically. A very generous severance payment later, Ms. Mavis was on her own again. She kept it together for a few months until a well-meaning neighbor found her outside on a sidewalk with a rolling pin in hand and a bathrobe draped around her pajamas.

No children, no friends and nobody willing to take care of her in her ailing health I was called to her doorstep with a smile and a suitcase; since then she has been trying to kill me as much as I've been trying to keep her alive.  We're about equal in score currently; I’m not certain who decided to call me to her aid, as from her vehement attitude she’s very unhappy to have me in her territory but that’s just reasonable. From living on your own with only a weekly maid coming in to tidy after your messes to a full-time roommate that was legally bound to looking after you can feel rather stifling. 

It may be my looks: my jaw was broken many years ago, a drunken altercation I wasn’t supposed to be involved with when I first started working seventeen years ago. The bar wasn’t able to pay my medical bills as an underage worker wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place and my jaw never set quite right again, a visible mar on my otherwise plain face. Aside from shallow reasons, I am the ideal nurse in situations like with Ms. Mavis, who doesn’t want help and is willing to resort to quite a few actions to avoid it. Kind, patient and very thorough, I am the picture-perfect homestay nurse.

And stay at home I did! Ms. Mavis rarely leaves her abode, especially now that she has younger hands running errands for her, so I spend my time tending to her shady garden plants- the low ones she can’t get on her knees to tend to anymore- and cleaning hard to reach places, taking great care to avoid triggering her traps hidden in the house. I think she’s getting frustrated, as the more lethal variants are showing up, with their hair-trigger responses garnering my even more hair-trigger dodging. She hasn’t used explosives yet, but I feel it’s only a matter of time before she cares less about the mortgage than seeing me as a smear on her wall. 

Every now and then I let her more prank-like traps trip, leaving minor burns on my hands and face, a cut or two on my arms. Once I even let her break a finger using one of her silly mousetraps! It’s hard to be so understanding sometimes.

I never thought I’d be a nurse when I was younger; I figured I’d work as a secretary until I found a decent fella and settle down. I knew I wasn’t seen as the prettiest flower in the garden but statistics said that someone’d pick me. Well, that is until one side of my mouth was very suddenly set horizontal in a way it shouldn’t’ve by a man who punched harder than an ass kicked. Mr. Robert Tillman, what a nasty fella; been a time since the last time I thought about a previous patient of mine. I happened to meet him again shortly after I got liscensed, after he sent one of the agency girls packing with a cast. The man had an unfortunate car accident, paralysed him and spoiled an already rotten attitude. The out-of-court settlement also granted him a nurse as he learned to live with his new life, an action that led him to meet me again.

Seven years and some weight gain had evidently let him forget about the teenager that he mangled, and with no shine in his eyes he cussed me and my family line for a full minute before I got to go about my chores. This wasn’t my first job as a nurse practitioner, as I got to work at a nursing home for a few months before the agency reassigned me to Mr. Tillman but there wasn’t anything to worry about; I am a very good worker in any assignment.

For months I cleaned up after Mr. Tillman, learning to dodge from his hobby of throwing bottles whenever some sports team of his was failing. Months Mr. Tillman and I learned how best to live together, though evidently Mr. Tillman was learning more about how to better vent his anger on his surroundings. Bottles to fists to words, many things were thrown with various levels of skill until Mr. Tillman finally seemed to acknowledge that not only was I faster than him, I was faster in a way that seemed effortless and we fell into a stalemate. Despite all this, I learned to love my job. I love the way I can see Mr. Tillman’s movements ease from their original stiff movement, the way his face shifted when I tested his legs for responses. I learned to love the minutiae of cleaning, of fixing. Of mending.

Nine months with Mr. Tillman and we fell into an easy, well easier, routine and I would go to the grocer once every week to stock up on fresh vegetables, sausages and beer for Mr. Tillman. Evidently one of his former victims or just someone who hated him broke in during my shopping trip and just laid into him; broken ribs, fingers and a dislocated jaw only extended the time I had to spend tending to the now-voiceless man, the only noises I’d hear were wheezes that I assumed were meant to cuss me out even further from his sunken face. After all, how could I let this happen to an upstanding man such as him?

Mr. Tillman began to refuse to eat after a few weeks of his jaw being forcibly shut and he started to visibly wither even further until I got permission to force-feed him from the agency. Frothing and drooling he fought every meal I poured down his throat until one day I found he committed suicide by lunging off a tall porch side and I was sent to another patient. Then another, and another and I began to be sent to the “difficult” individuals due to my excellent work with the company in exchange for a larger paycheck and far better health insurance. Both were very useful and very necessary in my career.

And my career led me here, to Wilmina Mavis. For all the faults that my job has, I can’t deny that I very genuinely love it.

[sanders-sides-fics]

In My Dreams: Chapter Thirteen

Warnings: Injury, violence, minor character death, murder attempts, fight scenes

Masterlist

Word Count: 3065

-

The castle was bustling with servants finishing last minute preparations for Roman's arrival. Virgil watched as the gardeners checked and triple checked the flower beds by the gates to make sure they were weeded properly. 

Virgil knew from growing up in Sanders that this was a big deal. Picais hadn't hosted a royal visitor in many years, staying quiet and keeping out others to protect what remained of the royal family as the castle waited for Remy to become of age to ascend to the throne. Any royal visit was important, and the first one in at least twelve years? Undoubtedly important and nerve-racking for servants.

“Pardon me, Prince Virgilius,” a gardener gave him a small bow after nearly running into him. 

“It’s no problem,” he said softly. “The flowers look wonderful.”

“Thank you, my prince!”

Virgil smiled, “You’re welcome.”

The gardener hurried off to put away his tools, and Virgil turned his attention back to the gates. He stood with Logan as Remy paced in front of them, pulling at his sleeves and fixing his attire.

“It’s just Roman,” Virgil reminded him.

“One would think you’d be the nervous one and not me. Oh, to be in sweet sweet denial of one’s feelings,” Remy mused, pausing his pace to look at his younger brother. He stepped forward and adjusted the crown on Virgil’s head, offering in explanation, “It was crooked.”

Virgil laughed quietly and reached up to fix Remy’s crown and hair, “So was yours, Remy. Even so, I don’t believe it’ll matter if my crown is crooked or not. Not once my dad gets the chance to swing me around.”

Remy smirked at that, “No long distance lover embracing you in his arms and dipping you down for a first kiss?”

Virgil blushed and swatted his brother away. Remy laughed and backed off. Virgil was relieved he could momentarily help with the nerves that Remy was feeling. His brother had been on edge all morning.

Remy didn’t know that Virgil did feel nearly as nervous as him, even with the jesting. It was true that in moments he would see Roman and Dad again. Specifically, he would see Roman. Roman. His best friend. His… crush. And he’d have to address how he was feeling, one way or another.

“Remington, I can see the carriage approaching,” Logan told him quietly.

Remy looked off and spotted the carriage in the distance, accompanied by a group of guards on horses. Remy stood beside Virgil and straightened out his posture.

“Ready?” Remy asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Virgil told him.

Remy snorted, “Well, just let me know if you’re going to hide under the covers until that sunshine boy goes away.”

The castle gates opened, and the carriage entered the walls, slowing down as it approached the trio before coming to a stop. The coachman descended from the front and opened the carriage doors for the passengers inside. 

Roman stepped down from the carriage. Virgil watched how his friend moved, looking for a sign that Roman had lied about his recovery, just in case. He trusted Roman would not but did not wish to take chances with the health of his friend.

The other prince was thinner than he had been when Virgil left for Picais, but that could easily be written off as the price of bedrest and loss of muscles. His auburn hair was shorter too, and Virgil knew he had it freshly cut before his journey. His complexion was paler but not so pale as to hint at a lack of bouts outdoors.

Virgil smiled at the conclusion that Roman had, in fact, recovered from his injuries in their time apart.

“Virgil!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing over to greet the royals. “Hello, King Remington!”

“Hello, Prince Roman,” Remy offered.

The two exchanged a small bit of talk about Roman’s journey that Virgil didn’t pay attention to. He watched as Dad stepped down from the carriage, a bit stiff from the journey. Virgil stepped aside to go to his dad and help him over.

As he walked over, he met eyes with Dad, and Dad’s eyes lit up like polished emeralds.

“Virgil,” he smiled. “Don’t mind me, son, just my old bones sore from the journey.”

Virgil hugged his dad when he was before him, burying his face in Dad’s shoulder. Dad hugged him back tightly, placing a kiss on Virgil’s temple.

“I missed you too,” Dad said quietly.

Virgil nodded his head without looking up, “I’m sorry I didn’t write to you enough.”

“It’s okay, I bet you’ve been pretty busy settling in over here.”

Virgil looked up at his dad and smiled, “Just a bit. Come on, Remy has a feast planned tonight to welcome the two of you as our guests.”

-

As the nobles started to arrive for the feast, Roman, seated at the table with the others, leaned over to talk to Virgil, “We didn’t really get the chance to talk earlier, but it’s good to see you. The crown suits you.”

Virgil smiled, “It’s nice being able to talk to you again, sans the weeks of wait. And thank you, it was my dad’s, King Emile’s.”

Roman nodded in agreement, “It’s much better to hear your words in person, I certainly can agree.”

Virgil heard Remy quietly snort on his other side and gently kicked his brother’s leg under the table. Virgil talked with Roman throughout the dinner, catching each other up on what had not fit into their letters over the passing weeks. 

“I could show you the library later, to get away from that,” Virgil pointed to Logan and Dad who were seated on the other side of Remy.

Roman gasped then laughed and looked at the two older men talking while they ate dinner. He didn’t notice anything all that strange, “What, can’t handle your dad swapping baby Virgil stories with Logan?”

“No, no, that’s definitely flirting,” Virgil shivered.

Roman shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Well, what would you do if King Thomas was flirting?”

Roman stared at Virgil, mortified, “No.”

Virgil chuckled at his friend’s horror and ate some of the stew remaining in his bowl. He was glad he could get Roman to understand what he was feeling. And knew that when the dining halls cleared out for the ballroom, the two would be going off to the library to hide for the night.

Before too long, Virgil was waving goodbye to his brother. He knew they weren’t supposed to be sneaking off away from Logan, but he truly believed that he and Roman could handle the situation if danger arose.

Perhaps he was allowing himself to relax too much. He knew there was a chance of that, however he wanted the opportunity to be alone with Roman for just a few minutes before Logan realized and came looking for them.

Virgil tugged Roman down the hall, being cautious enough to observe their surroundings, just in case. It was quiet, but he didn’t think it was suspiciously quiet. Everyone was at the banquet, welcoming the royal guests and celebrating the arrival, after all. Guards roamed the halls, giving them quick nods before leaving to do their rounds. Nothing seemed odd by the time they reached the library. Virgil opened the door and quietly slipped inside. 

“It’s cold in here,” Roman said quietly.

Virgil frowned, noting the chill as well. He shivered slightly, hugging himself and rubbing his arms up and down for warmth. The library had never been this cold at night when he visited. Tonight, he could see his breath when he breathed out. Virgil could hear a quiet voice in the distance and pulled Roman to hide behind the desk near the entrance.

Mavis walked out from the library’s shelves, shawl hanging loosely around her. She wandered closer, closer, dress dancing freely around her, reveling in the cold with a flow that suggested familiarity.

“Mistress, we will soon have our vengeance on those who’ve wronged you. The King who felled you is not here, but his son, the wretched knight, is. He can be gone by morning.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in disbelief, voice caught in his throat. Mavis was the spy within the castle walls? Mavis? The kind old librarian that let him stay in the library whenever he needed a break? He wouldn’t believe it was true if he hadn’t heard her talking just now. He gripped Roman’s wrist, heart starting to race, to make sure he knew where the prince was, so that Roman did not go charging to be the hero.

“We need to get out of here.” Roman’s voice startled him, and Virgil’s grip tightened, almost knuckle-white and cutting off Roman’s circulation. “Get Logan and the guards,” Roman told him quietly, voice grim.

Virgil nodded stiffly in agreement, shoulders tense. They couldn’t move until the librarian moved again, two pairs of eyes watching raptly. 

Mavis continued walking towards the desk, moving slowly in her old age. “I just need to get my poisons, Mistress. Just the same as the ones that handled the traitor Ashdown. You’ll see.”

Virgil looked around and saw the vial sitting on the top of the desk. He took a deep breath, making a rash decision, and shot out of hiding to confront her, knowing that she would discover them either way.

“You will do no such thing, Mavis.”

Mavis spun around, anger evident on her face at being interrupted. Then the old woman’s expression turned wicked. She sneered at the prince and raised her hands, room chilling further. Virgil shuddered at the temperature, hugging himself again and then noticed with alarm the frost growing on his garments. 

Mavis focused on him and breathed out, a swarm of snow starting within the library. “I can’t have you ruining this for me, dear. You had your chance to join the Mistress.”

Without warning, she summoned large icicles in the air and sent them flying at Virgil. Virgil threw up his arms to deflect them, sending them flying around the library. Each icicle crashed and shattered when they collided with the library’s stone walls.

Mavis cackled, summoning more of the icicles. Her arms raised, a malicious grin on her face, icicle after icicle launched at Virgil. His heart was a horse racing towards the finish line, the magical exhaustion threatening him. He gritted his teeth, pushing himself to try and throw back the icicles at Mavis.

“Roman, run!” Virgil shouted when one distracted her.

Roman rolled out from his position, dodging his own icicle attack, and ran to the library doors. He had to do something, needed to do something, to not just escape like a coward, to let Virgil fight Mavis by himself, to warn the rest of the castle. 

Mavis switched her aim to Roman, a wicked gleam in her eyes at the new target painted, but Virgil shot forward. He launched his body at her, pushed her to break her focus on Roman and back to him instead, giving Roman the chance to escape out the room. 

“You aren’t going to hurt him!”

The annoyance flickered on her face at losing her prey before settling into a vengeful sneer. “Then I suppose I will settle for you, boy!”

Mavis latched onto Virgil, and her touch burned. 

He shouted in pain and looked down at his wrists, seeing them turn blue with cold as ice spread up his arms. He kicked at her, feet swinging in her hold, but her grip remained ironclad. The cold crept up his arms, forming an icy prison around his hands. Fear screamed in his head, only barely being beaten back by the pain in his hands.

“Virgil!” Roman shouted, running back into the room with a sword in his hands.

Roman ran, swinging his sword at Mavis, and she rolled her eyes. She let go of one of Virgil’s wrists, swatting at Roman like a fly. He was knocked back, hitting a bookcase with a grunt. Another hand wave and the ground cracked open, and a large wall of ice sprouted up, a blockade of winter between the two princes.

Virgil tried to move his freed arm desperately, to free it from its wintery grip, but it remained encased in ice. Mavis grabbed the free wrist again and hauled him away, further into the library. Virgil screamed as his hands numbed, pulling and struggling, wanting to get away.

Roman swung the sword at the ice barricade, again and again, hacking at it in an attempt to get through to help Virgil. He was barely chipping at it, dread filling him as he saw Virgil being dragged further and further away.

Virgil looked back at him and then around the library desperately, looking for a way to get out of his situation. Panic laced up his whole body as Mavis tugged at him. He stomped down on the floor, dragging his feet and trying to resist the old woman’s pull.

He saw something flicker, and his memory ran back to his baba’s notes. Shadows. Something about shadows. He remembered reading about his ability to manipulate them, but even in the journals, the skill was underdeveloped. But he still had to try, unable to use his hands for any magic.

He focused on Mavis’ shadow as she pulled him along, trying to imagine it letting his shadow go. Her shadow twitched, and he felt Mavis’ grip loosen slightly. A thrill shot through his spine, letting the success motivate him. He focused harder and imagined the scenario in more detail. The shadow’s hands falling away from his shadow, his shadow no longer being pulled along with frozen hands.

He focused and focused and focused until he realized he was no longer moving, that Mavis’ shadow had let go. He looked up to see Mavis’ rage, face gaunt and wholly vexed, stopped in one position because of her shadow. And his hands were freed, relief returning as he turned around to run. He ran back to the ice wall as Roman finally broke a hole through it.

“Virgil, come on!” Roman reached through for him. 

Virgil tried to raise his arms, heavy like they were turned to lead and all he could feel was coldcoldcold. His arms swung uselessly at his side, and he didn’t know whether to scream or cry in frustration. 

Roman, realizing Virgil’s dilemma, grabbed one of Virgil’s icy hands and heaved him through the hole in the ice wall, barely able to pull him out. With a sword in one hand and Virgil’s in the other, Roman took off running out of the library, Mavis howling behind them.

Roman ran them back to the ballroom, bursting into the room and not stopping until they were before Logan. The crowds of nobles stopped in shock, at the sight of their injured prince and Roman wielding a sword.

“It was Mavis,” Roman panted, overexerted. He handed over the still shivering Virgil into Remy’s shocked arms. Logan straightened, listening intently. “She was the one working for the Witch. I’m going back, but Virgil needs his hands thawed out. Heal him.”

“Roma-”

A glacier of ice burst through the doors, and the guards scrambled to stand before it, fortifying their ranks around the nobility. On top of the glacier stood Mavis, a wicked snow queen bulldozing through the room. Roman darted forward and started to scale the glacier, one handed, as Mavis rained ice upon him to knock him off. The pieces of ice nicked his skin, drawing blood and getting into his eyes. weariness wanted to settle into his bones but he pushed himself further, harder, dodging most of the attacks, until he was at the top.

He held his sword with both hands, feet spread shoulder wide for balance. Rivulets of blood from the ice dripped down his face. His heart pounded in his chest, a rabbit wanting to escape. A snarl was on his lips as he gauged the old woman in front of her, waiting to make a move.

Mavis held out her hand, a blue aura surrounding it, and a sword made of ice materialized out of the air. She ran at the prince, sword ready to strike him. He expertly dodged her attack and swung his own sword at her, his sword stayed by Mavis’s own. 

Their swords clashed again and again. There was something wild in Mavis’ eyes, a glint of angered frustration. She roared, charging with a reckless swing, hand loose on her sword. Spotting the opening, Roman knocked her sword out of her hand, kicking her chest, hearing something crack, and knocking her down. He kicked her sword away, it dissolving as Mavis hunched in on herself.

Mavis crawled back, strength diminishing as wisps of blue flickered, trying to form something but unable. There was no escape, and Roman had the faux witch backed against the edge of the glacier, the tip of his sword under her chin. He smirked, ready to deliver the final blow.

“You’d kill an old woman?” Mavis said, blood stained on her teeth, a last ditch attempt.

Roman raised a brow, sneering, “We both know you’re much more than that.”

He raised his sword and struck her in the chest. When he pulled his sword back, she fell lifelessly over the edge of the glacier. The glacier shook and began to crumble, large chunks falling off and crashing onto the ballroom floor. The nobles screamed, either in fear for themselves or for Roman. Roman hurried and clambered down as fast as he could to avoid falling from such a height.

He raced back to Virgil, eager to get back to his side. Virgil’s hands were being wrapped in cloth now that the ice had melted away, the blue tint making Roman want to wince in shared pain and commiseration. The other prince gently pushed his brother away before he launched himself at Roman. Roman caught Virgil in his arms, laughing and hiding a groan of pain.

“What’s this about?” Roman asked when he released Virgil.

Virgil rolled his eyes, cupping Roman’s cheek with a fond smile, “I was trying to kiss you, you idiot hero.”

“Well then, let me help you with that,” Roman smirked before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Virgil’s, relief radiating off of both of them as they melted into each other’s embrace. The feeling of the cold gone and replaced by the warmth of each other.

[cutshawsnidowoa]

Cat Acne: Yes, It Exists and Yes, You Can Treat It

The post Cat Acne: Yes, It Exists and Yes, You Can Treat It by Tim Link appeared first on Catster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Catster.com.

Has your cat ever experienced pimples or blackheads on her mouth, face or other parts of her body? Yes, cat acne is a thing, and your cats don’t have to be teenagers to experience cat acne, either. I didn’t think this was possible until I spotted a white-headed pimple near the corner of my cat Charles’ mouth. As I looked closer, there were a series of much smaller blackheads on the bottom part of his lip.

This cat acne didn’t appear to cause any pain or discomfort for my cat. It was just surprising, and took me back to my unpleasant youth and the endless battle to eliminate, or at least hide, unsightly blemishes. I kind of guessed that I couldn’t use Clearasil on my cat, but I really didn’t know what, if anything, I should do. It was time for some research on cat acne and to bring in an expert.

First, what is cat acne?

Cat acne?! Yes, it’s a thing! Photography ©JZHunt | Thinkstock.

Cat acne is the common name for an idiopathic (meaning we don’t know why it occurs) disorder, which is known histologically as follicular keratosis, according to Dr. Mavis McCormick-Rantze DVM of Lanier Animal Hospital, Sugar Hill, Georgia. Dr. McCormick-Rantze states, “It is very common in cats and can occur at any age and any breed.”

What are the symptoms of cat acne?

Cat acne, or feline acne, is a cosmetic disease, but it usually requires lifelong on-again, off-again symptomatic treatment to keep it under control. Most of the time there are just asymptomatic comedones (blackheads) on the chin, lower lip, and sometimes on the upper lip. There is the possibility that pustules will form if a secondary infection is present. In very severe cases, the skin around the chin can become very thick and edematous (swollen) and even scarred from repeated infections and treatments.

Don’t confuse cat acne with other diseases such as mange (demodicosis), ringworm (dermatophytosis), contact dermatitis (such as an allergy to plastic food bowls), Malassezia (a type of yeast) dermatitis or eosinophilic granuloma complex. “It is important to rule all these diseases out with the appropriate testing by a veterinarian,” states Dr. McCormick-Rantze.

Cat acne treatment

According to Dr. McCormick-Rantze, “Mild cases of feline acne (non-infected) can be treated with human acne pads or medicated shampoos. If the area is infected, then the treatment involves systemic antibiotics for two to six weeks.”

You can also gently cleanse with an antibiotic soap, hydrogen peroxide, diluted iodine (Betadine), diluted Epsom salts and topical vitamin A. In more severe cases of cat acne, cleanse the skin with an ointment or gel containing benzoyl peroxide (OxyDex) or chlorhexidine. To curtail dermatitis issues, you can switch from a plastic bowl to a ceramic, metal or glass bowl. Plastic food bowls are porous and can trap bacteria, which then transfers to the cat’s chin and result in cat acne.

What causes cat acne?

We don’t know the exact cause of cat acne. There are several possible causes of cat acne, including stress, poor grooming by human companions or by the cat herself, over-active sebaceous glands and food allergies. However you proceed, always consult your veterinarian before treating your pet at home, and good luck.

Tell us: Have you ever dealt with cat acne? What did you do about it? Let us know in the comments!

Thumbnail: Photography ©Seregraff | Thinkstock. 

This piece was originally published in 2012.

Plus, suffering from adult acne yourself? Try these treatments >>

About the author

Tim Link is an author, writer, speaker, nationally syndicated radio host, president and CEO of Wagging Tales. Tim’s consulting practice helps pet owners build stronger relationships with their pets through communication with their animals. To date, Tim has helped thousands of pet owners worldwide and looks forward to helping many more. A percentage of Tim’s earnings are always donated to animal-focused charities in need. He is also the author of Wagging Tales: Every Animal Has a Tale and current radio host of Pet Life Radio’s Animal Writes show. 

Read more about cat health on Catster.com:

Cat Shedding 101: Which Cats Shed Less, How to Manage It and More

What You Need to Know About Cat Flu

The Different Types of Elizabethan Collars or E-Collars for Cats

The post Cat Acne: Yes, It Exists and Yes, You Can Treat It by Tim Link appeared first on Catster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Catster.com.

from Catster https://www.catster.com/cat-health-care/cat-acne-health-care via IFTTT

[theamericanafricans]

This last weekend I had the opportunity to write in my missionary card and add public speaker. You’d think that I would have already fulfilled this quota earlier on since I’m a lover of words and my own voice. However, this has not been the case until this last weekend.

Wes has already checked this box off by having done a couple of TV show interviews on dental basics for the Hope channel here. (Tune in grandma!) He’s gone out on a few outreaches and pulling teeth in the bush! Even Lauren has even done a few TV show interviews as well as a health message after church once, same with Travis. However, I had not…yet…

The opportunity arose when my teaching assistant, Mavis, asked me one afternoon if I was a good public speaker. Side note: she is an Adventist. Immediately my ears perked up but with caution because I was weary that a sermon would be asked of me and I couldn’t fathom the idea. As much as I love talking, talking about Christ is difficult for me because I feel unqualified and I’m still trying to figure it all out in my head as it is. Fortunately, she did not request a sermon from me but to simply to talk about empathy and do an activity with the congregation. This I could do.

So, Sabbath afternoon, we went first to Brentwood Church, our ‘home’ church here at around 10:45. We brought along with us Iris, a volunteer who just landed the day before, who will be volunteering around the different clinics for a month. With a one hour song service and a one and a half hour sermon under our belts, we went to grab a quick bite before the afternoon service I was partaking in over at Woodlands Central Church.

Not having done this sort of thing before, I wanted to make sure we arrive right at 14:00 so that I could be ready. I should have known though, TIA, (this is Africa) and the program didn’t really start until about 15 hours…

Not phased in the least, we sat and waited for the program to begin. Here’s the difficult part, there is no bulletin to see where you are in the program, or to gauge how long you’re going to be sitting there. So, we just sat and wondered when my part was up. But the nice thing was, the program was all put on and done by the special needs department. There was a lovely signing choir, a sermon given in sign language, a presentation and song by an albino musician, and a kid’s choir that sang and signed.

An hour later and I still hadn’t been called up to do my part but I figured it couldn’t be much longer. Finally, the counselor from my school was called up and gave a beautiful presentation about the importance of empathy and how we can show it to each other and towards the specials needs community. Then I was up. I was going to do an activity that I’ve been doing with my first graders which I’ve dubbed the Kindness Circle. In first grade, we sit in a circle and share one nice thing about the person to the right or left of us. Mavis had asked that I do this but with the deaf choir for the program. I was a bit nervous, not having really worked with the deaf before but I was really excited to try it out in front of 300 people.

I introduced the exercise to the audience and then sat back as the magic happened. From one end, they began signing to each other (with one gentleman translating what was being signed) and you could just sense the appreciation grow at each turn. Simple compliments dug deep and acceptance and admiration began to flood the small group. We’d not practiced or done the activity together before, so it was raw kindness and not at all rehearsed. I was fortunate to have had one of my little first graders present who I asked to join the activity and to see the curve of kindness reach her and receive a compliment from a complete stranger, it showed that kindness knows no boundaries. As he signed to her, she smiled meekly and thanked the gentleman with a hand gesture of thanks she’d picked up from the rest of the group, all the while beaming.

I felt so fortunate to have been a part of the program that praised special needs and lifted them up in a community and country that provides very little for them. Special needs isn’t really considered anything here other than a burden to your families. No special programs are provided, no education past a certain point can be obtained for a special needs person and there just isn’t the knowledge and love for special needs here in Zambia. But at Woodlands Central Church there is a fabulous place for them to come and worship. And come and worship they do!

    Empathy & Kindness This last weekend I had the opportunity to write in my missionary card and add public speaker.