Super Mom to the Rescue

It is a love hate relationship....that time in a parent's life when your children no longer need you. The time when they have left the nest...some of you may know of what I speak. You hope you have given them the tools they need to survive the world without you. The brains and common sense to make decisions that keep them safe, secure and happy.

It is what we strive for as parents...it is our job and the measure of our success. But it also a bit sad...for to not be needed is an empty feeling. So when our children call upon us for advice or help it makes us feel 'parental' again...needed.

I have one who seems to think her mother has an 'S' emblazoned upon her chest and when anything needs to get done this child calls upon her mother to 'handle it'. Not that this daughter isn't capable of handling herself or her situations...oh trust me she is. But when she fails...it is mom who swoops in to save the day.

Yes there is a story here.....

Phone rings at 4am (why is it always 4am?)

"Mom there is a man in my house and he won't leave." She is very calm.

"Do you know this man?"

"Yes his name is Tom and he wants to talk to Andrea but she does not want to talk to him and we want him to leave and he won't."

I hear in the background a man's voice confirming he does not want to leave until he talks to Andrea (a friend of the daughter).

"Is he threatening you or Andrea?"

"No, he just won't leave. Can you come over and tell him to leave?"

"Tell him I am on my way and I am bringing my gun."

I hear her tell this man who will not leave her home as asked, "now you are in trouble, my mom is coming over and she is bringing her gun."

I hang up the phone, the hubby and I get out of bed, get dressed, retrieve the appropriate tools necessary....he takes a ball bat, I prefer the .38, and off we head to the daughter's.

You may be wondering at this point why the police were not called. The reason....we are only two blocks from her home and are most definitely able to reach her long before any police cruiser would. But I would have called them if I felt it was necessary and long before I showed my firearm.

We arrive to find this man whom we do not know and the two woman at the table. There is nothing adversarial going on. The hubby bangs the bat on the floor and suggests Tom leave. Tom thinks we are kidding...no we are not kidding and I even offer Tom a ride to whatever destination he chooses. No...he doesn't think that will be necessary and walks out. I let Tom know returning is a very bad idea and shut and locked the door behind him.

All was well that ended well. But.............

Back to the beginning....you know the part where we as parents are supposed to give our children the tools to take care of themselves? Seems I have failed.

As I was trying to figure out the night's events and how Tom ended up in my daughter's home I became aware that my daughter has the potential to be an idiot! Strong words for a mother to use in reference to her daughter don't you think? But I don't know how else to describe her behavior that night. You read and decide.

It seems after several glasses of wine and conversation into the wee hours of the morning, the friend needed to smoke and being that it is winter and cold they just decided to open the door and sit inside. Viola...in walks Tom! I had a fit...a giant, mom-sized tantrum.

They were lucky it was just Tom and not the rapist that has attacked seven women in the area in the past six months. Because next time she is acting stupid, Super Mom may not be able to swoop down in time to save her.

Unfortunately it was not the time to try to teach a lesson. Too much emotion and too much alcohol involved at that time. But I will get back to it...trust me.

Me, the mom who taught personal protection courses for years, both with and without firearms to strangers, has been unable to impart the same valuable information to her own daughter. Or is it I taught it and like most young women, she just doesn't think she will ever be a victim?...she is invincible, untouchable, scatheless?

I wonder if those other seven women thought the same thing?

Neglectful

Yes, I have been neglectful...but I know you will forgive me. It has been a busy time...the holidays, the hubby's recuperation, my continued therapy and then the news.

The news? What news you ask? Ah.... a shiny sparkly thing that appeared on Christmas Eve. A symbol that was placed on the fourth finger of a beautiful young woman who seems to enchant my son, light up his eyes and enrich his life.

Though they have lived together for years and are more committed to each other than most who call themselves married, they will take the final steps to making their relationship legal.

I don't see much changing...it will just be easier to introduce her...My son's 'girlfriend' never did give her the importance and respect she deserved. I will be honored to introduce her as my daughter.

A Day For Snapshots

A quiet moment before the next rush arrives. There is beef in the oven doing what beef does...filling the house with a wonderful aroma. Most of the other staples have been created and await the empty bellies.

It is these moments on this particular day that life starts to flash in front of me like the cellophane windows of a Viewmaster reel. I press the button and one vision quickly changes to another. Some make me smile....some make me sad. The Christmas' past.

Like the rectangular windows in those round paper discs, my visions are still shots. Snippets of moments in time. My memories are like that sometimes...still shots. No words, no actions, just a picture.

I have these frozen frames filed deep in my mind...put away for days like this...times when I need to remember days gone by, people who have left my life, journeys that have ended...for days when I need to remember the good far outweighs the bad.

For there are always the snapshots in my mind to keep me going.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

I wish you love, peace and joy to you and your families today. Spend your day enjoying each other no matter what it is you do. My love and thanks to all who take the time to visit me.

Spread The Wealth

Poor Opie...Pa had to teach him a lesson.

Opie thought he was doing good...stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.

But noooooo...Pa told him stealing was wrong no matter what. You should never steal even if it is to give to those less fortunate than you.

"But Pa," the boy reasoned, "what about those who can't help themselves?"

He continued to explain to the young impressionable boy, "we already have ways to help those who can't help themselves," the kind Sheriff explained.

It's called TAXES!

This show originally aired in 1963. Some things never change!

Shadow Shot Sunday

I was out in weather of wind chills below zero to shoot this! What artists will do to get that perfect shot! Go on over to Harriet's and see some other wonderful shadows.

Photograph:

a picture painted by the sun without instruction in art.

Ambrose Bierce

R-Rated

Several years ago, Angel and I went to see the Vagina Monologues. "Every monologue somehow relates to the vagina, be it through sex, love, rape, menstruation, mutilation, masturbation, birth, orgasm, the variety of names for the vagina, or simply as a physical aspect of the body."

I love being a woman and I thought I would leave the show somehow reveling in the fact that:

I OWNED A VAGINA! I thought I would be empowered and somehow stronger by watching women talk about what was great about having this muscle that helps to define who I am. I was so wrong. I hated the show and so did Angel.

The show seemed to take all that was negative about my female orifice and exploited those things. Rape, abuse, incest, etc. The only part that was entertaining was the funny names people seem to come up with for that one body part: hoo hoo, coochie, winkie, and the all time favorite pussy.

And that is why we are here folks. You were wondering weren't you.

The word 'pussy' originally was used to refer to women, but now is frequently used as an insult toward men, as it is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "showing a lack of courage or determination".

If you are of the same mindset, I ask you to reconsider. In the words of my dearest Captain Du Mon Parfait and his new paramour, "any orifice that can stretch to many times its' normal size, pass a 10 pound kid through, and still be entirely suitable for carnal pleasures is truly an organ to be reckoned with."

So the next time you are considering insulting someone by calling them that five letter word that refers to a woman's anatomy, remember the power of the pussy. If it is an insult you are looking for, you need to pick another word. Because if you call them a pussy, you are not insulting them...you are actually giving them the ultimate compliment!

Things Are Looking Up

"Sometimes life has a way of putting us on our backs to force us to look up."

Charles L. Allen

Reality Check?

I am 47 and I'd like to think I don't look my age and most people seem to agree. Well now it has been confirmed.

The daughter and I were getting some, wake-us-up-libations, the morning the hubby was having surgery at the hospital cafe. As I finished paying, the daughter was snickering.

"You just saved $.33," she said.

"I did? How did I do that?" I inquired puzzled.

"You got the senior citizen discount." And she walked away laughing louder than Santa Clause.

OUCH!

Oh My!

click to enlarge if you really want to gross yourself out

He couldn't stand the bandages anymore, so I took them off a day early.

Not sure what I expected.

He is doing very well considering.

Glow - HSMSHS

The theme today is GLOW. Rather than look for a picture, I thought I would share something with you all. As you know, if you have been reading, it has been a rough couple of weeks in this house. Hopefully, we are through the worst and better things are coming.

So I am sitting at the hospital this morning when I got a text from our son the chef. This is what it said:

"How do you feel about VS2 diamonds?"

I think he may be shopping for a special present for "his lady" and I am simply glowing at the thought!

Platinum, Gold or Titanium?

The hubby is a proud owner of a new titanium shoulder!

Surgery was yesterday morning and went fairly well. There were a few minor complications...the nerve block was not effective so pain control was an issue. Fortunately for him, he had a wonderful nurse who was right on top of it (not that my phone calls had anything to do with the extra care and attention he and I both received !)

He was in recovery for about three hours because of pain and blood pressure spiking. He also had some problems with nausea and vomiting. But all in all, considering he had the end of his arm amputated, a spike driven into his bone, another bone ground down and a plastic disc glued into that space, plus all the muscles and tendons cut and torn from his bones....I think all went well (of course I am the one typing this not sleeping in a drug induced state in the recliner!)

He is home and resting well. I will take pictures and post them when the dressings come off tomorrow. I can already see the bruising and it is ugly!

This is what I love about the blogging world...there are a plethora of people who have experience everything under the sun. If you want advice just ask and you will have an answer. So, if you want to know anything about shoulder replacements and shoulder surgery...ask. We will be experts after this.

Pain Part II

Last Friday I was finally able to speak to the powers that be at the hospital where I had surgery. The condensed version...I wasn't out of my mind. I was treated poorly and the records reflected it.

The supervising nurse had pulled my chart and was very dismayed at what was not in the file. You know that question, "what is your pain on a scale from one to ten?" All charts are supposed to have a number reflecting that score not once, but multiple times depending on how many times the patient is asked.

My chart had no such number post surgery. Why? Because I was never asked the question. Even though my first conscious words were PAIN, I was never asked the question and consequently got no pain medication and that's where things went bad.

The results of this conversation: the supervising nurse had already had a 'discussion' with the nurse who was my caretaker. I was assured this same nurse would not have anything to do with my husband when he had his surgery. I was also assured I would be permitted to stay with my husband from the time we arrived until he was taken to surgery (not usually permitted).

While my main concern was the care my husband was going to get, I am also concerned for those who come after me. This woman, who is supposed to be a professional in the care of people who are sick, in pain and unable to advocate for themselves, failed me miserably.

I hope this 'discussion' she had with her supervisor taught her something. It is not her place to decide someone else's pain. It is her job, her duty to ease it. I hope it taught her that there is at least one person that was not willing to be treated poorly and that she will think before she decides to do it again.

Same Place, Same Time, Three Weeks Later

Tomorrow morning, the hubby and I will be on the road at 5:00 am headed to the same hospital I was in just three weeks ago. He will be on the same floor with the same nurses and the same Dr. will be doing his surgery.

The hubby is going bionic! A new titanium ball will replace the old, arthritic, chewed-up bone the Dr. calls his humerous and he will also have a new plastic socket to cover the pitted, scarred, excuse of a gleniod....in other words: he is having a total shoulder replacement.

Wish him well. I hope to be able to post while he is there...if not I will be back when he is home.

Shadow Shot Sunday

Honor Guard

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Washington DC

for more information: http://www.snopes.com/military/unknown.asp

HSMSHS

Tis' the Season to

Glitter

2 Weeks and Remembering

This time two weeks ago, I was lying in a hospital bed hooked to an IV getting a dose of dilaudid every four hours. My simple out patient procedure had turned into a nightmare and it shouldn't have.

As I look back on the events of that day, I am convinced there were things that were done, or not done by the nursing staff, to exacerbate my downfall and cause me to end up being admitted for an overnight stay.

The saga actually began before the surgery. My anesthesiologist suggested I have what is called a brachial plexus nerve block...an epidural for the arm. It was suppose to make post-op pain non-existent because my arm was to be completely numb. Sounded good to me. I was given a local numbing agent and some sedation...I remember feeling a pricking sensation in my neck and then I was in the recovery room.

Was I saying it out loud? Could they hear me? God I hoped they could. I could hear them..."just say it louder...pain, pain, pain, pain." Oh God I was in the worst pain I had ever been in and I was begging someone to hear me, to do something about it, to make it stop!

The nurse came over and asked me what was wrong. I told her I hurt...that there was horrible pain in my armpit. She told me I couldn't hurt...it was an ice pack I was feeling. I faded in and out of consciousness over the next hour all the while trying to communicate my agony when my brain allowed me to cognitive enough to do so.

Some of it is a blur but the bits and pieces I do remember are so disturbing to me I still want to cry thinking about it. At one point I was awake, again in agony, I heard another nurse summon my caretaker, "your little girl needs something" I heard her say. Again I expressed my pain..."you can't be in pain, you had the nerve block. It is the ice bag." She walked away.

In the background I heard her say, " he says there is no reason she should have pain in her armpit." I could make no sense of what was going on around me. Why wasn't she listening to me? Why didn't she believe me when I told her I hurt like I had never hurt before. Again I tried to tell her..."fine I will take this out and tell your Dr. you are being non-compliant" as she jerked the ice pack from under my arm. But I still felt as if my arm was on fire.

About 10:30 am I was moved to what is called a step-down unit. I arrived in the unit with my head in a bag dry heaving. Now I had another problem. But good news, the nurses in this unit seemed to believe I hurt...they had a clue...I could move my fingers. We all have an Ah Ha moment...THE NERVE BLOCK DID NOT WORK!

I had yet to receive anything to relieve the misery I was experiencing. But due to some protocol, the step-down unit only allows pain meds to be given by mouth and because I was dry heaving I would not be getting anything by mouth. Nothing by mouth, nothing by IV means nothing to relieve the god forsaken hell I was immersed in. By that time I was beside myself.

There were tears, begging, visualizing, Lamaze breathing...anything I could do to take myself out of my body and away from this limb that had turned on me. My poor husband could only sit and feed me ice chips...he was powerless to do anything. Friends who had expected me to be home by then were worried because they hadn't heard anything...it had all gone terribly wrong.

I remember calling my Angel to tell her what was going on. At the sound of her voice I broke into sobs...I was broken both physically and emotionally and I couldn't get anyone to help me. I couldn't understand how with today's medicine they could let me suffer like they did.

Finally around noon, my savior arrived. She was a nurse who did not normally work on that floor and was covering my nurse's lunch break. I don't know how or why she could do what she did and I don't care, but I think she saw how horrible it was for me and she said enough was enough. Before I knew it, she came in with a syringe full of phentinol and tordol and stuck it in my IV.

Within minutes I had relief. It was unbelievable. I told her I loved her and asked her to marry me! I also asked her why someone didn't do what she had done three hours earlier. She just shook her head and said, "I don't know."

It was obvious at this point that pain control was only going to be managed through IV. It was also obvious the block did not work...my arm was not numb. I was going to be admitted for pain and nausea control.

The goal was to move me from IV meds to oral meds and get me out in the morning. That didn't happen either. I could not keep the oral meds down until late in the day the next day. In the meantime, the IV meds dropped my blood pressure so low the nurse cut me off. I ended up getting 1000cc of fluid over four hours to get my blood pressure back up.

Again, what was supposed to be a simple outpatient procedure turned into a nightmare. And I don't think it had to happen. I believe if I had gotten good pain management from the beginning, in the recovery room, I would have gone home that day.

I am furious that some nurse made the decision that I did not hurt. That she decided my complaints were not to be taken seriously. I am beyond angry that she called me 'non-compliant'. No nurse should decide for his/her patient whether or not they hurt and how bad...it is the patient who should decide and the nurse who should listen.

When I saw my Dr. for my post-op and told him what had happened, that the nurse did not believe me when I told her I hurt, his response was, "she should have...that block fails in one in ten people." One in ten!

I have called the hospital and spoken with "customer service". I want to speak to her supervisor. I want answers. But more than anything, I don't want this to happen to anyone else.

Besides the personal pain involved, there is also the cost issues related to the extra time and supplies required for the overnight stay. I have insurance that will pay at 100%. I am lucky...someone else my not be.

One week from today, the hubby will be at the same hospital, on the same floor, with the same surgeon having a total shoulder replacement. They have no idea what they will be dealing with if anything like this happens to him....I am not as nice as he is and trust me....I won't stand by and watch it happen a second time!

I'll let you know how it turns out.

I was given this award by Polergirl...she is a delight. I laugh everytime I read her and you will too. She is one who knows how to make lemonade out of lemons. Thank you Polergirl.

I will not tag anyone but feel free to indulge if you would like...Epi?

It is an award for bloggers who show kindness and spread happiness around. Just list 10 things that make you smile...come on you can come up with 10 things can't you?

The rule was to list ten things that make you smile.

Only ten? That was tough!

You Know...

If you put potatoes in the microwave for 20 minutes, this is what you end up with....

Blazing balls of fire!

And a broken microwave...but he is working on that.

I'll let you know if he redeems himself.

Update 9:01 pm: He may not know how to cook potatoes in the microwave, but he does know how to bypass the thermostat fuse and now the microwave works!

Isn't he brilliant!

HSMSHS - Decoration

Yummy...gumdrops

This is one of those reasons I take the camera everywhere I go...a picture taken in a store where the tree was decorated with sugar coated gumdrops on a string. Unfortunately, they were fabricated out of some kind of plastic! What decorations are you putting up this year?

"Why is She Carrying a Camera?"

I was on a mission today to find some decorations for the mantel. I had seen the ones I wanted a week ago in a shop that is so full of do-dads, diddlely bops, and thinga-ma-jiggies you can barely walk the isles. Have you been to such a place? I don't understand how they get past the fire marshall? I should have bought them last week...hindsite and all.

Anyway...this shop is decorated to the hilt with every kind of seasonal decoration you could possibly imagine: trees, snowmen, elves, stars, snowflakes, ornaments of all shapes, sizes, colors, textures. They even sell Vera Bradley purses!

Okay get to the point...I had my camera with me because I usually do and it is a great place to take unusual photos of who knows what. I am walking through the narrow aisles ready to knock the crowd down in front of me ( oh did I say that out loud?), when I hear a lady say to her husband, "why does she have a camera? What is she taking pictures of? Why would you bring a camera to a store?" Couldn't help myself...if she was going to say it so loud...I was going to respond.

I walked up to her and I said, " I have a camera because I like to take pictures and you never know when you will see the perfect picture." She was clearly embarrassed so I continued to explain, " You see that ornament on that tree? I reminds me of a childhood event and now I have a picture...it sparked a memory and I will write about it."

Her husband made small talk and she joined in. It turned out to be a decent conversation and I hope I taught her something. At the very least...if you are going to be so rude to talk about someone, you should monitor the decibels at which the sound leaves your oral cavity. Or you may end up with someone as ballsy as me responding to what you say. Use your inside voices people, inside voices!

And since this is such a cool shadow photo, I am going to use it for a new photo meme too! It is called Shadow Shot Sunday. Check it out.

December 7, 2008

Today is the 67th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor.

I have been there twice...it was no less impacting the second than the first. My heart and soul ached as I stood, literally stood atop the watery graves of 2,000 men.

It is a beautiful memorial to those who lost their lives that day. It is a sacred place for the family's of those lost and the survivors who still carry the images of "the day that shall live in infamy."

I bow my head today. I hold my mind still. I say a private thank you to those gone and I assure you, you are not forgotten. And I cry at the top of my voice, with all the breath I have, " Thank you, Thank you to all of you who fight for my freedom every day...I think about where you are and what you do and I hope somehow you hear me."

100 Things You Never Knew About Me

Okay Epi...I'll play:

1. Started your own blog. I love it!
2. Slept under the stars. Only in a tent
3. Played in a band.
4. Visited Hawaii. Maui, Oahu, and Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity. Then that would make me the charity case wouldn't it?
7. Been to Disneyland. No but all my kids have...thanks Grandma and Grandpa
8. Climbed a mountain.
9. Held a praying mantis.
10. Sang a solo. Only in the shower!
11. Bungee jumped.
12. Visited Paris. And really have no desire
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. Stained Glass
15. Adopted a child.
16. Had food poisoning. Pizza Hut...the whole damn family and one bathroom
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
18. Grown your own vegetables.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France.
20. Slept on an overnight train. Not overnight but on a train yes
21. Had a pillow fight.
22. Hitch hiked. Teenagers aren't very smart
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.
24. Built a snow fort.
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping. It wasn't by choice...was stripped and thrown in by some 'friends'
27. Run a Marathon.
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice.
29. Seen a total eclipse. Both lunar and solar
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset. Some of the best memories I have
31. Hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise. Alaska and the Caribbean
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors.
35. Seen an Amish community.
36. Taught yourself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. Satisfaction isn't found in money
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock (wall) climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo's David.
41. Sung karaoke. Painful
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight. By full moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance.
47. Had your portrait painted drawn.
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.5
1. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling. In Hawaii and the Caribbean
52. Kissed in the rain.
53. Played in the mud. At a Jimmy Buffet concert...we don't talk about it
54. Gone to a drive-in theater.
55. Been in a movie.
56. Visited the Great Wall of China.
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class. Sort of...Took two Krav Maga classes does that count?
59. Visited Russia.
60. Served at a soup kitchen.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies.
62. Gone whale watching. In Alaska and Maine
63. Got flowers for no reason. Usually a single yellow rose
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma. Would like to, have rarish blood type but don't weigh enough
65. Gone sky diving.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp.
67. Bounced a check. oops
68. Flown in a helicopter. Over Hawaii and Alaska
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy. A bridal doll my aunt gave me
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial. I will sit in his lap before I die. You will read about the crazy woman who was arrested for scaling Lincoln!
71. Eaten Caviar.
72. Pieced a quilt.
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglade
.75. Been fired from a job. My first one when I was a teenager
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London.
77. Broken a bone. My left elbow...fell off a horse
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person.
80. Published a book.
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem.
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.
85. Read the entire Bible. Just the New Testament
86. Visited the White House. Only the outside..they don't let you in anymore!
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating. Went dove hunting, I shot the dove, someone else prepared and ate it.
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury. It was one of the most fascinating experiences I have ever had and I think everyone should do it.
91. Met someone famous. Jack Hanna
92. Joined a book club.
93. Lost a loved one. More than I care to think about
94. Had a baby. Three
95. Seen the Alamo in person.
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake.
97. Been involved in a law suit. Only to testify as a witness
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee. On the boob no less!
100. Read an entire book in one day. "Of Mice and Men"

HSMSHS

Lights

HSMSHS - Angel

Angel...I prefer not to think of the religious image: white flowing robes, wings and halos. As that seems so far from my reality. I am not a religious person. I have made my peace with my lack of belief in a higher power and yet I believe in angels....the living breathing variety. The kind you would define by the way they live their lives, by their goodness, their kindness, their selflessness.

Are you lucky enough to know such a person? I am. Because I know her I am kinder, more gentle, and more giving. She is truly the BEST person I have ever known. And because I know her, I am a better person.

I'd like you to meet my Angel.

Ruby Tuesday!

With everything that is going on I needed to take myself back to a time when life was simple and painfree...a relaxing sunny day on a little red boat with bare feet hanging over the side.

Life is Good!

Another Award!

Some of you may have noticed that I have been entering several of my photos into the Creative Photography contest created by Roger. I am pleased to say that Roger felt that this months photos were so good he could not decide a winner....so he has given all those who entered the honor of the badge.

I chose my photographs this month carefully. I love reflections and used this months entries to highlight reflections in different ways. I am honored to display the Creative Photography badge on my side bar. Thank you Roger and all of the other photographers who competed.

An Award!

The Bookworm Award

I was awarded this award a couple of weeks ago by my dear friend Epijunky and have just now had the opportunity follow through with it. I am so sorry Epi it has taken me this long.

As soon as I got the award I gathered the book. Because I am working in the library at my middle school, it is my goal to become more familiar with middle school literature. I want to be able to talk the talk when kids come in to ask what they should read.

I am currently reading "Killing Mr. Griffin" written by Lois Duncan. Some interesting trivia regarding this book...it used to be a required read for our middle schoolers. That was until some parents got their panties in a wad and decided it was too graphic for their kids.

They went to the school board and campaigned to have it removed from the required read list and were successful. Fortunately, they were not successful in having it removed from the library.

I will not tag anyone else but feel free to play along...it is interesting to see what everyone is reading. If you do play, please leave a comment and let me know where I can read what you've written.

The rules are as follows:

Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open the nearest book to page 56.

Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences.

The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!

....."I have an abrasive personality. Fierce dogs cower when I walk down the street and slink away to hide under porches. Small children run screaming to their mothers. Beautiful girls rip their numbers out of the telephone book and chew them up and swallow them for fear I might call and invite them out."

"Oh, Brian!" She had burst out laughing.

Day 6

I made it! I worked half the day. It is the getting ready that is exhausting though. The best and the worst part of the day....the hugs from all the kids!

Now for some catch ups.........

Day 5

I am tired. The swelling has abated...I have a bicep but no collarbone. There is alot of bruising. I am trying to use my arm as much as possible...forcing myself to do so. I begin therapy on Tuesday. Yea Ha!

We went out for a bit yesterday and today. I had to go shopping because it seems that I have gained about ten pounds and none of my pants fit. I don't know how that is possible considering I am eating nothing but toast most of the time. Water retention?

I am going to try to go to work tomorrow. Try............stay tuned to see if I was successful.

Day 3 - Bandages Are Off

Can you believe those three little holes have caused this much trouble?

I feel better overall today. The pain is not as insidious as it has been. It is mostly painful when I move...of course I am being encouraged to do so as much as I can. Do you know how hard it is to move something that hurts? I cannot lift my arm off the bed by its own power...I must assist it with my good arm. It is still very swollen and heavy.

I did shower on my own today and even managed to help cook dinner. I ate a bit of it too! It seems I am moving forward. I plan on going back to work on Monday. When I say that, my husband just laughs at me. It's good to have goals isn't it?

I can stretch the pain pills out to six hours if I am being still. The antibiotics are beginning to cause other 'problems'. Still not convinced I should have done this! I guess time will tell.

Creative Photography #15

Reflections of myself in her chrome

It is beyond an image

We are one

Day 2 = update

WOW...this has been like nothing I have ever experienced and I gave birth to a nine pound baby!

I did get a bath and my hair washed in the kitchen sink today....but other than that have not done anything.

I am resting in bed and taking pain pills about every three hours...that is about as long as they last. I still can't think about eating anything more that toast.

I am trying to drink but that is tough. The idea of anything in my stomach makes me ill. The problem with that is...the pain meds lower my blood pressure and I need the fluids to keep it up. Before I left the hospital I was given 1000cc of fluid because my blood pressure dropped to 88/54.

The bandages are to come off tomorrow. That should make movement a little easier or at least less confining. The pain makes nothing easy...breathing, coughing, sleeping, moving etc.

There is one good thing...I can sleep in my bed. There is nothing like your own bed when you don't feel good.

Home Sweet Home

I am home! What supposed to be a simple out patient procedure turned into a nightmare. I will fill you in later.

Thank you for your kind words and thoughts.


I hope you all have a great holiday!

Lucy Is Hospitalized For Pain

This is a friend of Lucy's with a report. She got through her surgery okay. The "insidious bone spur" is gone, and the docs have used their high-tech dremel tools to grind off other unnecessary pieces of bone in the shoulder region. Most importantly, the rotator cuff was not torn. Overall, the procedures went well.

But . . . (and as Lucy is fond of saying, "it is a big but") . . .

She has been admitted to the hospital for pain management. Because of concerns from the medical staff, she agreed ahead of time with their recommendation that a nerve block be performed during the procedure. The purpose, essentially, is to deaden any feeling in the entire arm for a number of hours, post-op. This was to help get through the roughest period -- immediately following surgery. During this time frame, she was told, pain likely would be most intense.

The block did not work.

She is being treated tonight for this issue. Complicating things a bit, Lucy doesn't react well to anesthesia and is having problems with nausea.

Bottom line: Please keep Lucy in your thoughts tonight. No danger to her life, but the "discomfort" level is very, very, very high.

Stitches or Staples?

So.....am I ready? In less than 12 hours I will be at the hospital having holes cut in my shoulder and scopes stuffed into my joint. I will try to take pictures...well not me but the hubby, to show you what this process is about.

This is what is supposed to happen: I have a bone spur at the distal end of the clavicle that is to be removed. The surgeon is also going to open up the space in the joint by taking a piece of the acromium as well. This should help the joint move more freely.

He is also going to manipulate the frozen shoulder by forcing the scar tissue that has formed in the capsule that surrounds the shoulder by moving the arm while I am under sedation. This will release the scar tissue allowing the arm to move freely...he will then clean it out.

He will inspect the rest of the shoulder structure looking specifically for tears in the rotator cuff. If he founds any then he will repair them.

If all goes well, I will be out of surgery within 30 to 45 minutes and home within a couple of hours. I am to start physical therapy Wednesday.

I don't know how soon I will be back here as of course it is my dominant side affected. I don't know if I will be able to type or even if I will feel like it. But I will somehow keep you posted or be in touch.

Wish me luck!

This is where I will be spending my days and nights until further notice

Beautiful Places

To this day, I do not know where I found the strength to move one foot in front of the other. It was as if I was on auto pilot doing the things I was supposed to do. I made the arrangements for her burial, there was no funeral. She wanted her cremains to be buried in my brother's grave.

In fact, she wanted me to steal by dark of night and dig the hole myself and just dump her into his grave. I would have done it...except it had snowed five inches in the Arizona desert the night before and the sandy earth was frozen. So for a mere $235.00 the cemetery was willing to open his grave and place her inside. I paid my money and I assume she is there resting with him as she wished to be.

I tried to do as she wished. I tried to anticipate what she would have wanted. We didn't know she was going to die. It was sudden and unexpected. So when I found myself standing in her home looking at the things she had collected over the years I tried to do what she wanted and what I thought would be best.

My mother was a planner...at least as best as could be expected. She died 20 years to soon...only 61. But she had already seen enough death in her own life that she knew certain things should be done to make it easier on the living.

Her personal affairs were mostly in order. Beyond that, she had made lists of her personal belongings and what and to whom they were to go to. Things like: "Patrick is to get the curved wooden bench," "Lucy gets the platform rocker." This made some things so much easier.

But then there was the unexpected...some good, some bad. The handmade cards from all of us when we were kids...the art we had done in school...the autopsy report from my other brother's death. There were finds that shed light on the life she was living 2,000 miles from me...a life she did not share with me, did not want me to know about. What to do with those things?

It is that way when someone dies. You find out details about their life you may not know existed. You are thrust into the most intimate details. You sift through their belongings with no pretense of privacy. Some things make you sad...some make you happy. Some things you are glad to know...others you wish you did not.

Among many of the things, I found out my mother was cross stitching and quilting. I found a quilt she had been working on that was about 3/4 the way finished. I folded it up and brought it home with me thinking I might finish it someday.

Someday turned into years. I had done nothing and wasn't going to. So I took it to a place where a group of Amish and Mennonite woman make and finish quilts. It took them a year to do the work...but it was worth it. They did a magnificent job.

This quilt now lays atop a bed, a bed that sits in the room my parents shared when I was a child. A room I have done to celebrate the life of my mother. In it are things that remind me of her and her life along with other family mementos.

Shutter Sisters today talks about celebrating the beauty in your own home...so I am celebrating the beauty of my mother's quilt. It isn't fancy or particularly well quilted...but it was her last surprise gift to me. I have created a beautiful room around it...a room where the sun shines bright, the colors make me happy and the memories warm my heart.

What beauty do you celebrate in your home?

click to enlarge

The picture you see in this photo is of my mother and her brother, Tom. I think she must be about three and he about five. I had it printed from one of my grandfather's old negatives I found in an old box of photos.

A Dead Man's Treasures

As I walked the aisles, I cannot help but go back in my mind to those times when my heart was broken, my vision clouded by tears and my mind unable to process nary a thing going on around me. Yet, I was expected to make decisions...important ones, crucial ones. I did...some of them were good, some not so much. But who the hell can hold you responsible during times like that?

I pick up objects and wonder, "who did this belong to? How did it make its way here? For I am in an antique store where the life of those who have passed gather to tell stories through the objects they have left behind " One such thing...trophies, NRA rifle and pistol matches from the 50's and 60's. Who did they belong to and why are they there? Does the family of the owner not feel proud enough to continue to display the achievement of their loved one anymore?

More than the things...the photos....the old sepia toned photos of the young and old alike. I am struck by piles and piles of them. Images lost, people lost...unknown to the strangers who walk these passageways of the past. I look at these faces and my heart cries out, "you had a life, a story, a tale that should be told to the generations that come after you.

But I shouldn't be so judgemental. For I too have found myself sitting among the belongings of a loved one. In fact, I have found myself sitting among the belongings of all of my loved ones in years past. It is a hideous event that words cannot describe.

Things surround you...and they are things...wood, glass, metal and much of it means nothing for you have just endured something that you cannot believe is possible. You know something has to be done with these things, yet sense and reason and practicality are not in your vocabulary let alone you mind.

So you do what think is best and hope you make sound decisions. You keep what is important to you. You keep the things that have family history. And you know what...you will always have regrets. There will be that one thing you let go because your mind just can't comprehend it all.

It is impossible to keep the entire lives of those we have loved and lost. We have to let some of it go. The decision then becomes to where. Of course, many can benefit from clothing and the like. Friends should always be thought of too. And the antique stores...well I guess that is always an option.

Creative Photograpy #15 - Photo Hunter Reflection

Click to enlarge

When Nature meets Technology

This is my 3rd entry for the 15th Creative Photography. I shot this photo along a river that runs at the bottom of my street. I love the way the light pole mixes with the trees as if it is planted right along side of them. Oh and of course it is a Reflection...my favorite subject to shoot!

Update: I have also added this to Photo Hunter this morning as the theme is Reflection! How convenient was that!

The Apple of My Eye

The guest writer today on Shutter Sisters is Jane Maynard. She speaks of the beauty of food. While I have had my own experiences with food, it is not mine I would like to share...it is my son's.

It is he who is the culinary artist in our family. Our oldest makes his living taking Mother Nature's raw product and creating that which delights the eye and nourishes the body. His clients pay handsomely for his talent and are rewarded with delicacies that dance upon their tongues.

Here is just a sample of his talent...I hope you enjoy (and wipe the drool off your chin!)

Some Things Are Black and White

It is just a book from a middle school library. Probably not worth more than about $10 to $15. What would you do if you found it in a hotel room under the bed?

Would you be concerned about the student who lost the book and want that student to not get charged for the lost book? So concerned that you would take the time to write a note, put the book in an envelope and spend $3.21 to get it back to the school where it belonged?

Tharen was...Thanks Tharen. Jayshawna really appreciates what you did. She was staying at the hotel because her parents were separated and she and her mom were living there for a short time.

We appreciate it because we got a book back..but we appreciate it for more than that...you took care of one of our kids when things were tough.

There is a great teaching moment for all of us here: In a world where things are gray and sometimes the lines between right and wrong are blurred, this one was clearly black and white.

Living Life Large

I would like to point you to something I found by accident: From The Pearl of Africa.

This blog is being written by a young mid-western college student who is studying in Uganda, Africa. I think it is captivating. I can't imagine what it would be like to give up the comforts of home to go live among these people. I shall do so through her. Oh to be young again.

Please check it out...I think you too will be mesmerized.

The Decision is Made

Chronic pain in not fun. It distorts your mind, your body and your soul. It changes the way you look at life, at people, at yourself. It controls your thoughts, your actions and your desires. Chronic pain will turn you into someone you do not recognize as yourself.

In the beginning of the summer, I noticed a small ache in my right shoulder. I tried to ignore it until the ache began to keep me awake at night and I noticed I was losing the range of motion in my arm. In September I sought medical attention.

I am a relatively bright girl with a more than adequate understanding of the body and medicine. But it has been an unbelievable challenge to understand what is happening to my body and sift through the information that has been given to me. Not only to understand it, but to make decisions on how to proceed with the best treatment for the problem.

Dr. #1 diagnosed severe subscapularis tendonopathy, AC bone spurs and bicepital tendonopathy. He wants to 'take down the tendon', grind off the bone spurs and reroute the biceps tendon. In other words, major surgery. But I am not sure how that solves the fact that my arm does not move. On to Dr. #2.

Dr. #2 makes more sense. He says, 'you have a classic case of frozen shoulder'. It is definitely frozen. My arm barely moves and what motion I have is extremely painful. He says surgery is the worst thing I can do. He says 'wait is out'. It will heal itself. Caveat? It will take 1-2 years. But with time and a positive attitude I will 'get through this'.

I do the research and I think Dr. #2 is right on target. I believe I have frozen shoulder. Somewhere along the line I sustained an injury that caused me to guard it and then it started to freeze. There are three stages to this syndrome: freezing (very painful, loss of range), frozen (not so painful, totally frozen) and thawing. I am still 'freezing' and it has been 6 months.

The pain is unbelievable. At its best, it is like a constant toothache. At its worst, it takes me to my knees and tears are falling almost daily. I cannot lift my arm above 90 degrees to the front or to the side. I cannot reach behind me at all or across the front of my body. Sleep is almost non-existent. I am living on pain killers...my attitude is not so positive. Enter Dr. #3.

Dr. #3 says, "you have an insidious bone spur at your AC joint." I knew about the bone spur but no one else seemed concerned about it. You can see it on the xray. It is pointy and pokes its way down from my collarbone (clavicle). Dr.#3 seems to think this is what caused the initial injury to my shoulder that caused it to freeze. A big bone spur scraping across the muscles and tendons every time I move my shoulder...might cause some issues I guess.

Dr. #3 seems to think that without getting rid of the spur, my shoulder will never thaw. He also thinks that over time I will end up with bigger problems...a complete rotator cuff tear. Oh and he can speed up that thawing process too. Great news don't you think? At what cost I ask.

Well surgery of course. Just take a little nappy, let him scope my arm, grind off the end of my clavicle and acromium, manipulate my arm around (fancy way of saying force my arm to move by ripping the frozen muscle) vacuum out all the crap and viola! I am cured.

So what to do? Three Drs., three opinions, three treatment plans. How do you make a decision? I will tell you how I made it. I made it based on the quality of my life. Right now it sucks! Pain is my constant companion and vicodan is my best friend.

I can't live a year to two years in pain. I can't let a surgeon re-engineer my shoulder. So I will go with the one who makes the most sense. I will solve a potential problem as well as an existing one. The bone spur has to go. I will also take my chances with pushing Mother Nature and allow Dr. #3 to force the shoulder. There are risks (breaking the humerous is one) but I can't take this anymore.

Surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday. There won't be a Thanksgiving with all the trimmings this year...at least not on Thursday. We will celebrate on the following Sunday instead. My son the chef is cooking this year. The food will be wonderful.

So I have hope...hope for change! I hope I can change my clothes without pain by the time my husband has his left shoulder replaced in December. Oh, did I forget to mention that? Yea, it's going to be a long long winter!

Fake - HSMSHS

Update: I wanted to see if anyone looking at this photo would figure out the second part of the 'fake'. Not only are the flowers fake...the photo is too...It is a reflection of the image...a fake.

Fake

Have you been fooled into believing something was real when it was not? HSMSHS has asked us to post something fake today...this is my fake. There is more to it than meets the eye...can you guess what it is? Fake....don't let yourself be duped by things that are not real!

Thumbs Up(date)

Many of you were so kind and empathic about the injury my daughter sustained to her thumb recently. I wanted to update you on the healing progress and thank you for your kind words and thoughts.

Healing it is. The stitches came out about a week ago and the wound has closed up. She is very sore, as you can imagine, but is expected to regain full use of her thumb. It will take a minimum of two months to do so.

She is bothered by the pain of course, due to the broken bone beneath the thumb nail. She is also bothered by the very funny sensations she experiences as the nerves are trying to regenerate. The joint is very stiff and she is having difficulty bending it, but that should resolve. All in all things have gone well.

I shall never forget the sound of her voice that night. I shall never forget the feeling in my stomach when I saw her injury. And this was just a thumb...how lucky we were.

Day before the stitches came out

A Shutter Sisters Manic Monday Combo

Today's Manic Monday word is Season and Shutter Sisters is lamenting the beginning of winter when the cold and bleakness that is the season finds us burrowed in our houses with nary a picture to take.

When the deary wet gray weather is upon us here in the midwest, I find my house takes on a new smell. It is the smell of the outdoors. The smell of burning timber, soot and ash. It is the season when logs are burning in the fireplace at a rate that is constant.

The fireplace in not very efficient...it is more for ambiance than warmth. I sit in front of it so close, my clothes are in danger of combustion and my skin is so hot it is nearly painful. But this is the season that warmth is hard to come by and the colors of crimson, orange, and yellow have left the landscape and this is where I find these things I so crave....warmth, color.

So I hole myself up in my home and I create this sea of flames in the concrete cavern of my wall and once again dream of a season when Mother Nature's landscape will provide me with her palate of colors to shoot and the sun will warm the terra firma.

Creative Photography - Shiny Balls

Click photo to enlarge (you won't be disappointed)

In The Looking Glass

Reflections fascinate me. Is what you are looking at the reality or the image? If I had cropped this photo would you have known you were looking at a reflection in a giant mirror?

Eyes of a Child

What do they see...these little people we call children? A perspective so different from the jaded one we adults have come to view. To be so fascinated with something as simple as an ear. Shutter Sisters asks, "When was the last time you really looked at the world around you through the eyes of a child?"

He discovered her ear.

Games

HSMSHS

I don't feel much like working today so I think I will just play games all day. What about you? What is your favorite game?

Another Rememberance

You would be 50 today. But that wasn't part of your plan was it? I always knew you wouldn't make 'old bones'. But I never guessed it would happen the way it did.

Mom was wistful you weren't born on Tom's birthday, only missed it by a couple of hours...again you had different plans. But she was proud you were a Veteran's Day baby.

You always did march to your own drummer didn't you.

Blog note:

Update: I am sorry I did not explain the unfortunate events that took the life of my Uncle. He was killed during an army mortar exercise in Hamberg, Germany. The shell exploded before it was intended. Sharpnel penetrated his back and entered his heart killing him instantly.

The essay below was written by my beloved Granny. It was written for an english class assignment in 1957 when she returned to college at the age of 51 to get her teaching degree after her son was killed.

My mother and I found the essay in her belongings after she died in 1985. We had no idea she had ever written it, let alone shared her grief with strangers. She never shared it with us. You see, Granny was not a demonstrative woman. She was that no nonsense kind of gal that survived life instead of lived it.

I wanted to share it as a way to remember all of those who have served our country. All of those who keep us free. All of those of take on special endeavors while they are doing so and especially the families of those who so graciously allow the ones you love to leave you, be it for a short time or forever.

We honor you and remember you and keep you in our hearts.


oh by the way: she got a B+ on the essay

Remembering...

A Symbol of Spring

By

Martha W. Salyers

March 4, 1957

I cannot remember what Spring meant to me in years gone by - I can remember only the Spring of last year. It was a time of the year in which my son was killed in a tragic accident; a time of the year when Spring turned into a Winter of despair and defeat.

He was many things to many people; and all that he was to others, he was to me - and more. He was the small boy who had once spent his only nickel to buy a bag of jelly beans for my birthday present; he was the young man who, on his twenty-first birthday, spent all the money he had to give me a gift of a beautiful silver teapot, which I had coveted without any hope of owning. He was the little boy who did not need to be taught courtesy and consideration for others; they were instinctive with him. He was the young man who had no recognition of differences in race, color nor creed, who daily practiced doing unto others as he would have them do unto him. There was always time for him to give help and he was happiest when he could be of service to someone. Our lean years were brightened by his good cheer and by his assurance to me that we would "make it." He was the son who insisted that I stop working and go with him to live in Germany while he completed a tour of duty there.

He was the boy who early decided on an army career and never deviated from this singleness of purpose. All his thoughts and actions were in preparation for the time when he would become an army man. He had no illusions about the small part he would play in the drama of army life, but he was determined to play that part to the best of his ability. That he was successful can best be illustrated by the many tributes paid to him at the time of his death. Upon learning of his death, the entire Corps of Cadets of the University of Cincinnati asked for the privilege of conducting the funeral service of their former corps commander. While services for him were being conducted at Arlington National Cemetery, his entire battalion of officers, troops, wives and children marched in formation to a memorial service for him in Germany. At that service his battalion commander said of him, "This service today is a humble tribute to a soldier of inexhaustible energies and fortitude. Those of us who knew him as an associate, a leader, a friend, an officer as well as a soldier, found him to be a shining example of spirit, initiative, conscientiousness, and faithfulness. His deeds and vivid demonstrations will be living examples of standards difficult to equal by any man now or hereafter. It is the priceless good fortune of each one of us to have served with him." I think he must have smiled his big beautiful smile at these words and was even more pleased when his Jewish friends and associates held their own special memorial service for him. These tributes were of little comfort to me; I could only think of the continuing good of his life had he been left with us.

With Ecclesiastes, I thought, "What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? ...All things are full of weariness; a man can not utter it...so I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me; for all is vanity and a striving after wind." The winter months of blackness and despair stayed with me. "I said of laughter, 'It is mad,' and of pleasure, 'What use is it?'

One day a letter came to me from Sister Rosa, the director of an orphanage in Germany, which my son had befriended. Her letter began, "In front of me at my desk stands a lovely picture of your dear son. A big picture was honored in an unforgettable ceremony in the presence of high American officials and our own member of our Work here; also Bishop Landgraf. Director Kroner placed a wreath around the picture and solemnly your beloved son looks down at us and our Work we are trying to do here. I prepared special music and song for the services of such a solemn ceremony and it would have done you heart good to witness it. We will never forget your son and will always think of him and pray for him with grateful hearts."

The snow of my winter began to melt. Soon another letter came from Tom's company commander telling me of a fund of almost three thousand dollars which had been established by officers and troops in memory of Tom. This money was to be used to carry on his work at the orphanage. Now I could see the green of the grass which had been growing under the snow of my Winter.

On Tom's birthday in November, the Sisters sent a card they had made for me in honor of his birthday. I letter from Sister Rosa followed telling me of the special services they had held for him. In her words, "The Sisters and all the youth and help in the Home gathered together in the beautifully decorated big room here. We took his picture off the wall and decorated it with flowers and candles and began our humble celebration of love and thanks. We sang and recited and the tones of Mozart and Hayden went through the room. We sang about 'The Good Comrade' and played on the flute and piano; we sang hymns from Gertrude von Lefont. It was all so beautiful and touching it is hard to describe. The little children sang a birthday song to Uncle Tom; they expressed their joy in their own way that Uncle Tom came into their lives. One song came after the other as only little ones can sing. Then silently we prayed and blew out the candles except for a few which kept watch through the night. In the evening, we went to the Chapel for prayers and silent meditation and that is how we closed the day of love and honor on your dearly beloved son's twenty-fourth birthday." This letter brought a ray of sunshine and a suggestion of blues skies.

Over the period since Tom's death, we have tried to carry on his work by sending clothing and money to the children in the orphanage. As each letter comes to tell us of their gratitude, my Winter comes a little closer to Spring. I do not know why death came so early to him, but I am consoled when I see the good that has come from it. It is the fulfillment of his hope that he could live on through the good that he had done on earth.

Spring means to me the sum of a life as lived well - the life of my son. His short years on earth are as the short month of Spring; his smile is in the warmth of the sun. His good deeds are the crocus which blooms so early; his cheery manner is in the song of the cardinal. A soft breeze is the gentle touch of his hand. Children fly their kites and I see his Spirit free and soaring over upward into the blue of the sky; the kite's string is a symbol of the unbroken link between him and me.

"Who is like the wise man?

And who knows the interpretation of a thing?

A man's wisdom makes his face shine,

and the hardness of his countenance is changed."

Ecclesiastes 8:1