Have you ever been sick? Have you ever been with someone that is dying? I am not sure what goes through peoples heads at those particular times. I was not sure what people thought until a wonderful person spoke to me tonight about just that and I am going to tell you about it.
I was lucky enough for the past three days to care for a lovely lady. Her family is very caring and concerned about how she is doing and spend a lot of time at her bedside. Now they had to make some very hard decisions about her care, leaving them heart broken and sad. In the whole episode, there was a nurse that I am priveleged to know. She was someone that was instrumental in getting done what the family had been trying to do for over a week. This lady is a god send and an angel disguised as a nurse. You know who you are, my glorious Ms. M. This is kind of the prelude to what I want to tell you now.
My wonderful(I had to say that cause she is going to read this) sister was on the phone with me texting like we do every night before she goes to bed. She had a rough day at work. Her and her husband had just closed the doors of their store for the last time. It was a heart wrenching day for her and her loyal customers. There had been hugs and tears all day long and she was udderly exhausted. The night at work had been slow and I did get to talk to her a bit more than ususal. We were kidding around like we usually do and she had me laughing like a silly school girl. We talked about our family and laughed about the things we used to do. She teased me and I her. Then I sent the text "brb going to check". When I came back she asked me what I had to check. I told her that I had a patient that was dying and I had gone to check on and turn her. Deb said something that threw me a bit. She said " I am going to be a patient sometime in the near future and I want you to make sure that my face is washed and my hair combed". You see my sister has Parkinson's Disease and she is preparing herself for what 'could' come.
Then she told me to go in and, "wash her face and comb her hair" to which I replied, "I already have". She told me that I astonish her. She told me that she loves me and is glad that I am good at what I do. She told me how proud she is of what I do and that I am her sister. She said a bunch of other stuff too that I can't write here (hahahahaha). My sister can also be 'full of it' after a couple of glasses of wine. We laughed about our kids and more about the family we come from and then she went off to bed and me back to work.
I had never really thought about what I can do to help patients through the transitions that are put before them. I guess I do certain things for them without thinking. It is strange hearing it come from someone that you know and love, so if your ever taking care of someone and your not sure what to do to help them or make them feel better, "Just wash their face and comb their hair", you'll probably get a great big smile.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Devastation
What is happening to this world? Is it just me or have the rest of you noticed the trend of devastation that has happened world wide for the past few years? I am not sure if it is just that we are more aware of these things or if it really happening on a grander scale? The floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, hurricanes, horrible wars and the destruction and mayham that is caused by them all.
We sat and watched as tornados went across the states of Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Illinois and Minnesota last night. In its wake leaving DEATH and destruction on a scale that I have not seen for some time. There were numerous tornados that touched down, one just 30 miles from my home. None on quite the scale as the one that hit Joplin, Missouri. The hospital was destroyed as well as a large portion of the town of more than 50,000 people. My heart has been sick just thinking of what these people are going through. I have decided to go and see if there is anything that I can do to help. I am only one person, but if I can make life easier, or help even one person throught this devastation, I won't feel so helpless.
I helped one other time when a tornado went through the town I live in. I felt honored to give what I had to offer. I wish it could have been more. I heard this morning that one of our own was already down in the area that was hit the hardest, giving his all as a first responder. I am proud to know him and wish him all the prayers I can muster for a safe and speedy return, way to go Luis. I also know of other nurses that are going, Mandy and Melissa are just a couple. I have sat and watched as people walk aimlessly through the streets, trying to find some semblence of what was. They all have the same look on their faces, one of disbelief and astonishment. How could this have happened? What went wrong, that made the tornado hit this town? Why such a populated area?
Today is a day for searching the soul. Today was a day that made me cry uncontrollably for others. I sat and watched as a man pulled his wet scared little dog out of the rubble that used to be his home. He was still in his pajamas. That sight and others like it, made me ask questions that I have never before asked. Now people may not agree with what I am about to say, but it is what I think. Everyone says there is God, the all knowing and loving. Right now I don't see much that makes me think he is very loving. I will probably burn in the halls of Hell for saying this, but how can anyone make people suffer this way.
The tornado hit a hospital. A Hospital. A place where most people cannot do for themselves. Doctors, nurses and all other staff, were put in harms way not only from the tornado, but also in the fact that they had to evacuate all the people that were still infirmed. That alone could have cost people their lives. I know as a nurse, I will do whatever needs to be done to keep my patients safe. If that means carrying them out on my back, that is what I would do. One of our own(nurses), lost a very young family member this horrible day.
I am having a really hard time understanding what is happening to this world. I do see a lot of people lending a hand to the guy next to them, not caring if white, black, yellow, female, male, child, adult, young, old, straight, gay, rich or poor. Everyone is in the same boat right now and everyone is helping in anyway they can. I am proud of the fact that people, even under these conditions are helping each other. Maybe this is suppose to be part of the grand scheme. A way to get people to work together, to stop all the stupid, petty, nastiness that has taken over our lives. If it is, there has got to be a better way. One that does not cost lives, separate families, and destroy peoples faith.
I have had the honor of going and at least trying to help these people. When I arrived, I could not believe the devastation I saw. Telephone poles snapped like match sticks. Houses and buildings flattened and destroyed. Metal sticking out of still standing trees and buildings, like it had been there for years. The hardest part of seeing all this destruction, was knowing that under some of the buildings there were still people trapped. Some alive, but most probably dead after 3 days. The thought of that sickens me. I did all I could in the short time I got to spend there. When I left the city, I began to cry. I cried uncontrollably for about a half an hour then sobbed for another hour or more while driving back home. People have asked me what I saw and did. I have tried to describe it, but every time I try, I cry. The massive destruction and loss of life is on such a grand scale it is hard to explain what my eyes saw. This is going to stay with me for some time to come.
I am so proud of the way Missouri came out to help their own. We did not sit on our laurels and wait for the government to show up and tell us what to do. There were people from every walk of life that opened their homes, hearts and wallets to help in any way they could. I have never witnessed anything like it. The donations and help that came into the Red Cross, United Way and all other organizations and church groups was truly overwhelming. There were at least 10 people that I know personally, that went to give whatever was needed to help.
I know for me, I have a lot of unanswered questions. It will take me sometime to come to terms with what has happened. I know there has got to be answers for all my questions. Now all I have to do is find them. Until then, my heart is sick and in pain for all those who have gone through this in the past days. You are in my thoughts and in my heart. May the sun shine again on your faces and in your hearts.
We sat and watched as tornados went across the states of Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Illinois and Minnesota last night. In its wake leaving DEATH and destruction on a scale that I have not seen for some time. There were numerous tornados that touched down, one just 30 miles from my home. None on quite the scale as the one that hit Joplin, Missouri. The hospital was destroyed as well as a large portion of the town of more than 50,000 people. My heart has been sick just thinking of what these people are going through. I have decided to go and see if there is anything that I can do to help. I am only one person, but if I can make life easier, or help even one person throught this devastation, I won't feel so helpless.
I helped one other time when a tornado went through the town I live in. I felt honored to give what I had to offer. I wish it could have been more. I heard this morning that one of our own was already down in the area that was hit the hardest, giving his all as a first responder. I am proud to know him and wish him all the prayers I can muster for a safe and speedy return, way to go Luis. I also know of other nurses that are going, Mandy and Melissa are just a couple. I have sat and watched as people walk aimlessly through the streets, trying to find some semblence of what was. They all have the same look on their faces, one of disbelief and astonishment. How could this have happened? What went wrong, that made the tornado hit this town? Why such a populated area?
Today is a day for searching the soul. Today was a day that made me cry uncontrollably for others. I sat and watched as a man pulled his wet scared little dog out of the rubble that used to be his home. He was still in his pajamas. That sight and others like it, made me ask questions that I have never before asked. Now people may not agree with what I am about to say, but it is what I think. Everyone says there is God, the all knowing and loving. Right now I don't see much that makes me think he is very loving. I will probably burn in the halls of Hell for saying this, but how can anyone make people suffer this way.
The tornado hit a hospital. A Hospital. A place where most people cannot do for themselves. Doctors, nurses and all other staff, were put in harms way not only from the tornado, but also in the fact that they had to evacuate all the people that were still infirmed. That alone could have cost people their lives. I know as a nurse, I will do whatever needs to be done to keep my patients safe. If that means carrying them out on my back, that is what I would do. One of our own(nurses), lost a very young family member this horrible day.
I am having a really hard time understanding what is happening to this world. I do see a lot of people lending a hand to the guy next to them, not caring if white, black, yellow, female, male, child, adult, young, old, straight, gay, rich or poor. Everyone is in the same boat right now and everyone is helping in anyway they can. I am proud of the fact that people, even under these conditions are helping each other. Maybe this is suppose to be part of the grand scheme. A way to get people to work together, to stop all the stupid, petty, nastiness that has taken over our lives. If it is, there has got to be a better way. One that does not cost lives, separate families, and destroy peoples faith.
I have had the honor of going and at least trying to help these people. When I arrived, I could not believe the devastation I saw. Telephone poles snapped like match sticks. Houses and buildings flattened and destroyed. Metal sticking out of still standing trees and buildings, like it had been there for years. The hardest part of seeing all this destruction, was knowing that under some of the buildings there were still people trapped. Some alive, but most probably dead after 3 days. The thought of that sickens me. I did all I could in the short time I got to spend there. When I left the city, I began to cry. I cried uncontrollably for about a half an hour then sobbed for another hour or more while driving back home. People have asked me what I saw and did. I have tried to describe it, but every time I try, I cry. The massive destruction and loss of life is on such a grand scale it is hard to explain what my eyes saw. This is going to stay with me for some time to come.
I am so proud of the way Missouri came out to help their own. We did not sit on our laurels and wait for the government to show up and tell us what to do. There were people from every walk of life that opened their homes, hearts and wallets to help in any way they could. I have never witnessed anything like it. The donations and help that came into the Red Cross, United Way and all other organizations and church groups was truly overwhelming. There were at least 10 people that I know personally, that went to give whatever was needed to help.
I know for me, I have a lot of unanswered questions. It will take me sometime to come to terms with what has happened. I know there has got to be answers for all my questions. Now all I have to do is find them. Until then, my heart is sick and in pain for all those who have gone through this in the past days. You are in my thoughts and in my heart. May the sun shine again on your faces and in your hearts.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Remodelling your home
Have you ever wanted to change something in your house? Your life? Do you enjoy organized and sometimes disorganized confusion? Do you like dirt, dust and disarray? If you do, just think about remodelling your house. Changing anything in your house is like poking yourself in the eye with a sharp stick. You know its going to hurt, but you do it anyway.
Well my floor is gone, and the kitchen is a mess. I got a bright idea the other day and decided to change my kitchen. Now, when you decide to do this big of a job, you should be prepared for the mess that goes along with it. It is not a place that you walk around without shoes. There is dust and dirt everywhere, along with nails, screws and the odd chunk of wood. There are different levels to the floor when building, and you can now see them all. Lift your feet. Don't shuffle, you will stub your toes or be on your ass. Everything that was in the sitting room of my kitchen is now in boxes and on the kitchen tables. Yes I said tables. I now have both tables in the main part of the kitchen. All these items are soon to become part of my dining room, till the kitchen is finished. The dining room will become my kitchen for a time. This will be a little different, but I can put up with almost anything if I can see the results down the road, or at least in my head.
My husband, for whatever reason, is all for this experiment in pain and suffering. He has even started to suggest ideas for what he thinks, needs to change as well. This can be scary, as he has decided to extend the kitchen floor into the back porch entry way, "it will be part of the pantry", he says. He also informed me that, to put down a new floor, the cabinets that are in now will have to be taken out so the floor can go under them. Now can you tell me WHY would I want to do something like that?
Now don't get me wrong, I have a husband that is fantastic at building things, but when he starts making suggestions on changing things I get scared. He has great ideas, but I am not sure that I can live in this house for the length of time it is going to take to accomplish this undertaking, without going completely crazy. You see I have been through this once before with a small remodel we did. My bathroom went without a sink or cabinet for over a year. I got tired of washing my hands and spitting toothpaste in the tub, so one day he came home to a new cabinet and sink sitting partially put together in the bathroom. He connected the water and waste lines and helped me put the drawers together(I was not having a lot of luck getting them to slide, or putting the fronts on) and now our bathroom looks great, except for the floor. That is the next project after the kitchen.
Then there is the male attitude that goes along with any changes that involve power tools. My husband is one of those men who has a shop full of tools that do everything from cutting to polishing and anything in between. Most guys have these tools and can use some of them, but my husband is efficient with most of them. When I say efficient, I mean it. My husband is a perfectionist. I love him dearly, but if there is a small problem with something he has built, he will tear it apart and redo it. Now that is fine if we are talking about a chair, table or small item but if he does that repeatedly while redoing our kitchen I may be into my 70's before we get anywhere near finished.
I can hear it now. "Just tell me how you want it and I will do it", that is the prelude to the big fight. I don't want to tell him how to do it, because I don't know or I would have done it myself. So my response is usually, "just do it the way you want", then the fight is on. Funny part about our fights, he doesn't fight, so I do a lot of screaming and screeching and he sits and listens, or at least pretends to. He has a slight hearing impairment and has a hard time hearing high pitched voices(like mine when I'm mad). Anyway we disagree rather loudly at times or at least I do. He is a wonderful man that will do anything to make me happy. He has done that since the first day we met and fell in love. I am not kidding about that either. He really will do anything he can to make me happy.
So lets get at it. Move the shit out of the kitchen and lets get on with it. I am ready to make this into the house we want to stay in. I can't wait. Just remember, when you see me with patches of hair missing, bloody knuckles or paint on my face, remind me what a wonderful place my house is going to be when we get it finished. Here's to my shiny new kitchen. May we both still be alive to enjoy it.
Well my floor is gone, and the kitchen is a mess. I got a bright idea the other day and decided to change my kitchen. Now, when you decide to do this big of a job, you should be prepared for the mess that goes along with it. It is not a place that you walk around without shoes. There is dust and dirt everywhere, along with nails, screws and the odd chunk of wood. There are different levels to the floor when building, and you can now see them all. Lift your feet. Don't shuffle, you will stub your toes or be on your ass. Everything that was in the sitting room of my kitchen is now in boxes and on the kitchen tables. Yes I said tables. I now have both tables in the main part of the kitchen. All these items are soon to become part of my dining room, till the kitchen is finished. The dining room will become my kitchen for a time. This will be a little different, but I can put up with almost anything if I can see the results down the road, or at least in my head.
My husband, for whatever reason, is all for this experiment in pain and suffering. He has even started to suggest ideas for what he thinks, needs to change as well. This can be scary, as he has decided to extend the kitchen floor into the back porch entry way, "it will be part of the pantry", he says. He also informed me that, to put down a new floor, the cabinets that are in now will have to be taken out so the floor can go under them. Now can you tell me WHY would I want to do something like that?
Now don't get me wrong, I have a husband that is fantastic at building things, but when he starts making suggestions on changing things I get scared. He has great ideas, but I am not sure that I can live in this house for the length of time it is going to take to accomplish this undertaking, without going completely crazy. You see I have been through this once before with a small remodel we did. My bathroom went without a sink or cabinet for over a year. I got tired of washing my hands and spitting toothpaste in the tub, so one day he came home to a new cabinet and sink sitting partially put together in the bathroom. He connected the water and waste lines and helped me put the drawers together(I was not having a lot of luck getting them to slide, or putting the fronts on) and now our bathroom looks great, except for the floor. That is the next project after the kitchen.
Then there is the male attitude that goes along with any changes that involve power tools. My husband is one of those men who has a shop full of tools that do everything from cutting to polishing and anything in between. Most guys have these tools and can use some of them, but my husband is efficient with most of them. When I say efficient, I mean it. My husband is a perfectionist. I love him dearly, but if there is a small problem with something he has built, he will tear it apart and redo it. Now that is fine if we are talking about a chair, table or small item but if he does that repeatedly while redoing our kitchen I may be into my 70's before we get anywhere near finished.
I can hear it now. "Just tell me how you want it and I will do it", that is the prelude to the big fight. I don't want to tell him how to do it, because I don't know or I would have done it myself. So my response is usually, "just do it the way you want", then the fight is on. Funny part about our fights, he doesn't fight, so I do a lot of screaming and screeching and he sits and listens, or at least pretends to. He has a slight hearing impairment and has a hard time hearing high pitched voices(like mine when I'm mad). Anyway we disagree rather loudly at times or at least I do. He is a wonderful man that will do anything to make me happy. He has done that since the first day we met and fell in love. I am not kidding about that either. He really will do anything he can to make me happy.
So lets get at it. Move the shit out of the kitchen and lets get on with it. I am ready to make this into the house we want to stay in. I can't wait. Just remember, when you see me with patches of hair missing, bloody knuckles or paint on my face, remind me what a wonderful place my house is going to be when we get it finished. Here's to my shiny new kitchen. May we both still be alive to enjoy it.
Gyro Park
Have you had a place in your life that was special? A place where you have nothing but good memories? Do you smile each time you think of the things that happened there? There is a place in my hometown that, almost every kid that lived there, has been to. It is called Gyro Park.
Now over the years Gyro has changed. Between adding the pavilion, the change rooms, the new bathrooms, the monkey bars and the new pool addition, it has changed a lot. This park is just below the hospital, and a place where most kids in town spend a great deal of their childhood. The pool was made to accommodate from the youngest of children, to ones in their upper teens and everyone in between.
There is a lookout, where you can see more than 75% of the city. It is a great place to take pictures. The air is clear and the panoramic view is not to be outdone. The river below winds its way through the mountains and down the valley to the Columbia river. You can clearly see Elephant Mountain across from the city, and downtown Nelson is completely visible.
Now for those of you that have never been to this part of the world, Gyro Park is built on the side of a mountain. The lookout is up at the top of a cliff, and has a drop off of about 100 feet, maybe more, straight down to the road below. I guess you could say we were lucky enough to be able to climb up and down the steep outcropping when we were kids. Now there is wire encompassing the lookout and the ability to go over the edge is now gone. It was a fast way to get downtown. Fun too. Weaving your way through the trees and brush on the steep side of the cliff. We would climb up as well as down. As kids, I think most of us were fearless. Not so much anymore. Now I think we were just crazy. The thought of climbing that steep outcropping is nerve racking to say the least and we did it without a thought back then.
It seems like you can see forever from up there. The gardens are something as well. Every flower and bush you can think of is there. It is a perfect setting for the ultimate wedding photo. Many have been married in the gardens and have had their photos taken after.
It was the perfect place for our after grad party. Or so we thought. We snuck into the pool and had a ball until the police came by and sent us all packing. Did not take long after they left, for us to end up back in the pool. You see, as a teenager, I was sort of a quiet rebel. I was somewhat of a wall flower, but did get into my share of trouble. My best friend Judy, was usually not far ahead or behind me. We did have a great time. I remember trying to get her rambler airborne on the hill that ran beside the Dairy Queen. We did get all four tires to lift off the ground, and landing without anyone or thing being hurt. Well maybe the car took a bit of a beating. There were a few more clunks, bangs and rattles after the flight.
Judy's parents lived right across the street from Gyro, so needless to say, we spent a lot of time at the park. In the summertime we would spend all day there in the pool, and then would have a great time at night. There were so many paths throughout the park back then. You could get yourself lost if you wanted to bad enough. Great place for you to take your boyfriend or vise versa. Lovers lane path was very busy in the 1960's and 70's and there were many of them.
Now the park has all sorts of things for kids to do. The pool has been redone to allow small children an area to swim in. There is a fountain at one end of the pool for the aesthetic touch. Monkey bars and swings are still on the hill and the gardens are still as beautiful as ever. I spent time there last summer with my nephews and family. It is still a great place to go and just be. I hope it lasts forever. Gyro is a place that I make a point to go, every time I go home to visit. It just makes me smile.
Now over the years Gyro has changed. Between adding the pavilion, the change rooms, the new bathrooms, the monkey bars and the new pool addition, it has changed a lot. This park is just below the hospital, and a place where most kids in town spend a great deal of their childhood. The pool was made to accommodate from the youngest of children, to ones in their upper teens and everyone in between.
There is a lookout, where you can see more than 75% of the city. It is a great place to take pictures. The air is clear and the panoramic view is not to be outdone. The river below winds its way through the mountains and down the valley to the Columbia river. You can clearly see Elephant Mountain across from the city, and downtown Nelson is completely visible.
Now for those of you that have never been to this part of the world, Gyro Park is built on the side of a mountain. The lookout is up at the top of a cliff, and has a drop off of about 100 feet, maybe more, straight down to the road below. I guess you could say we were lucky enough to be able to climb up and down the steep outcropping when we were kids. Now there is wire encompassing the lookout and the ability to go over the edge is now gone. It was a fast way to get downtown. Fun too. Weaving your way through the trees and brush on the steep side of the cliff. We would climb up as well as down. As kids, I think most of us were fearless. Not so much anymore. Now I think we were just crazy. The thought of climbing that steep outcropping is nerve racking to say the least and we did it without a thought back then.
It seems like you can see forever from up there. The gardens are something as well. Every flower and bush you can think of is there. It is a perfect setting for the ultimate wedding photo. Many have been married in the gardens and have had their photos taken after.
It was the perfect place for our after grad party. Or so we thought. We snuck into the pool and had a ball until the police came by and sent us all packing. Did not take long after they left, for us to end up back in the pool. You see, as a teenager, I was sort of a quiet rebel. I was somewhat of a wall flower, but did get into my share of trouble. My best friend Judy, was usually not far ahead or behind me. We did have a great time. I remember trying to get her rambler airborne on the hill that ran beside the Dairy Queen. We did get all four tires to lift off the ground, and landing without anyone or thing being hurt. Well maybe the car took a bit of a beating. There were a few more clunks, bangs and rattles after the flight.
Judy's parents lived right across the street from Gyro, so needless to say, we spent a lot of time at the park. In the summertime we would spend all day there in the pool, and then would have a great time at night. There were so many paths throughout the park back then. You could get yourself lost if you wanted to bad enough. Great place for you to take your boyfriend or vise versa. Lovers lane path was very busy in the 1960's and 70's and there were many of them.
Now the park has all sorts of things for kids to do. The pool has been redone to allow small children an area to swim in. There is a fountain at one end of the pool for the aesthetic touch. Monkey bars and swings are still on the hill and the gardens are still as beautiful as ever. I spent time there last summer with my nephews and family. It is still a great place to go and just be. I hope it lasts forever. Gyro is a place that I make a point to go, every time I go home to visit. It just makes me smile.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
My hero
Have any of you ever had a feeling that you had read something for a specific reason? I am talking about something that you would not have ordinarily taken the time to read. Something that did not or would not usually catch your eye. Stories like these can shape your ideas about things. They can take what you have always believed to be true and turn it upside down. That is what happened to me tonight while reading facebook. There it was, a story that would turn my world upside down and tear at my heart strings forever.
Now, many of you that know me, have heard me talk about my dad. He is my hero and became even more so, about 10 years ago. About that time, he made a trip to the doctor for his annual (ya right) checkup at the insistence of my mom. Well that is the day that his life changed forever. A simple checkup. Your regular run of the mill checkup. A trip to town to see the doctor. Wow what an eye opener that turned out to be. Who wanted to hear the "C" word. Maybe it was, maybe it was wasn't. Now the testing begins.
I was on, what seemed like, the other side of the world. I live about 2000 mile from my family. When I got the message about the PSA being elevated, my world as I knew it stopped. I cried for days. I could not lose my dad. He is everything to me. If something happened to him, I know I would die. I was lost. I was speechless (and that is something that is hard to do). Now you have to know, I am a nurse and have in my lifetime, never felt so helpless. I had questions about everything. You would think I would know the answers but, when you have something like this happen to one of your own, you lose all forms of intelligence. I could not have told you how it happens, what makes it grow, or how people get cancer. I felt stupid and useless.
He started treatment and has over the past 10 years done really well. The treatment was not so great. The radiation treatments made him sick. He had to be away from home to get the treatments, so being somewhere other than home for six weeks, and sick to boot was not the greatest thing. He was a trooper through it all and followed what the doctors told him(knowing him, probably with a lot of apprehension and a lot of questions). Since then he has had great check ups and the results of his lab tests were good. That was 10 years ago. Then came the second week of May this year.
Off to the doctor for the blood tests. Home to wait. The results came back and were given. The PSA is up. Now what? More chemo? More radiation? Is that even an option? Where do we go from here? Too many things are happening to my family. We have tried to do good in our lives. We were taught to be nice and respect others. Why is this happening to us? Why my dad? He has always tried to be a good father, husband and friend. I just want to know, why him? Why us? Answers, I just want answers.
I dream of days when nothing was wrong, when life was simple and your only worry was how you were going to get to the movies. I want my old life back. No bills, no worries, no sickness (except the odd cold or childhood malady), hugs from my mom and dad, trips with us all together. Now life sticks its ugly head in again and throws us another curve ball. Enough is enough. I thought the idea was to have fun and spend time making your kids sick of you. Come on mom and dad, lets see if you can do it. Bring it on!!!!! We will fight this as a family. We stick together as a family through thick and thin.
My dad and I had a really great talk recently. Some of the things we talked about were not things that I would have wanted to talk about, but I am glad we spoke of all of the things we did. I feel more confident ever day that we will get this back under control. Laying down is not something my family does easily. We are fighters, but what happens when you just get tired of fighting? I am trying hard to keep a positive outlook and am trying to encourage him to do the same. We will do whatever is needed to push this nasty little irritation back down. My dad is my hero. He has over the years provided all the love and care in the world. He is always there for us and has never asked for anything in return. Well, Dad it's my turn now. I love you and will do whatever I can to help you through this. I will hold your hand and stroke your forehead, just like you did for me. I will pick you up if you stumble and fall. I will do whatever it takes. Anything, anything at all. You don't have to ask, I will just be there. You are my rock and my hero. This is for you
Now, many of you that know me, have heard me talk about my dad. He is my hero and became even more so, about 10 years ago. About that time, he made a trip to the doctor for his annual (ya right) checkup at the insistence of my mom. Well that is the day that his life changed forever. A simple checkup. Your regular run of the mill checkup. A trip to town to see the doctor. Wow what an eye opener that turned out to be. Who wanted to hear the "C" word. Maybe it was, maybe it was wasn't. Now the testing begins.
I was on, what seemed like, the other side of the world. I live about 2000 mile from my family. When I got the message about the PSA being elevated, my world as I knew it stopped. I cried for days. I could not lose my dad. He is everything to me. If something happened to him, I know I would die. I was lost. I was speechless (and that is something that is hard to do). Now you have to know, I am a nurse and have in my lifetime, never felt so helpless. I had questions about everything. You would think I would know the answers but, when you have something like this happen to one of your own, you lose all forms of intelligence. I could not have told you how it happens, what makes it grow, or how people get cancer. I felt stupid and useless.
He started treatment and has over the past 10 years done really well. The treatment was not so great. The radiation treatments made him sick. He had to be away from home to get the treatments, so being somewhere other than home for six weeks, and sick to boot was not the greatest thing. He was a trooper through it all and followed what the doctors told him(knowing him, probably with a lot of apprehension and a lot of questions). Since then he has had great check ups and the results of his lab tests were good. That was 10 years ago. Then came the second week of May this year.
Off to the doctor for the blood tests. Home to wait. The results came back and were given. The PSA is up. Now what? More chemo? More radiation? Is that even an option? Where do we go from here? Too many things are happening to my family. We have tried to do good in our lives. We were taught to be nice and respect others. Why is this happening to us? Why my dad? He has always tried to be a good father, husband and friend. I just want to know, why him? Why us? Answers, I just want answers.
I dream of days when nothing was wrong, when life was simple and your only worry was how you were going to get to the movies. I want my old life back. No bills, no worries, no sickness (except the odd cold or childhood malady), hugs from my mom and dad, trips with us all together. Now life sticks its ugly head in again and throws us another curve ball. Enough is enough. I thought the idea was to have fun and spend time making your kids sick of you. Come on mom and dad, lets see if you can do it. Bring it on!!!!! We will fight this as a family. We stick together as a family through thick and thin.
My dad and I had a really great talk recently. Some of the things we talked about were not things that I would have wanted to talk about, but I am glad we spoke of all of the things we did. I feel more confident ever day that we will get this back under control. Laying down is not something my family does easily. We are fighters, but what happens when you just get tired of fighting? I am trying hard to keep a positive outlook and am trying to encourage him to do the same. We will do whatever is needed to push this nasty little irritation back down. My dad is my hero. He has over the years provided all the love and care in the world. He is always there for us and has never asked for anything in return. Well, Dad it's my turn now. I love you and will do whatever I can to help you through this. I will hold your hand and stroke your forehead, just like you did for me. I will pick you up if you stumble and fall. I will do whatever it takes. Anything, anything at all. You don't have to ask, I will just be there. You are my rock and my hero. This is for you
My dad, my rock
Only days away,
Only mountains between,
It's only space,
Hearts are big,
Love is long,
The will is strong,
We are together as one,
Forever and Always,
My dad, my rock
written by
Laura Leach
written by
Laura Leach
Education can be helpful
Do you remember being a kid and wanting to learn and understand everything? Did you want to learn everything your parents knew? Did they teach you?
The problem with teaching a kid, is they already know everything. No one can tell you anything. And dear god, from your parents, that is like telling a kid to give up music. Learning from parents is a fate worse than death, or so kids think. Your parents are "Old", how could they teach you anything. They don't know anything and they are so old, how could they remember if they had known!!! Funny the things you think when your young. I bet now that my kids are grown, they have begun to think that, I am not as stupid as they once thought.
As a kid, I was lucky. My mother was a whiz at a lot of different things that, over the years she has passed on to me. She taught me to sew. I can remember the first "shift" I made. I was so proud. It was by far the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but I made it with my own hands. I wore it proudly. You would not catch me dead in a dress like that now, but I was proud of my accomplishment.
She taught me to knit and crochette. I have more blankets, scarves, and throws than anyone I know. It is nice though to be able to make things for people. My favourite is the baby blanket and no two are alike. People seem very appreciative of something that you took the time to make just for them. I can remember the first time I set out to make a sweater. My husband, the good man that he is, did not say anything when he tried on the pink and grey thing that I called a sweater. Lordy, lordy the sleeves where made not for humans but for, oh say a gorrilla. Needless to say he did not wear it other than just for the fitting. I felt stupid, but he said it was the thought that counted. I still have the sweater. You never know when a gorilla might come by needing another coat.
She taught me to cook. I can make a gourmet meal or chili from scratch, as well as anything in between. I am not much of a fan of pre packaged processed food. I love to bake. Cookies, cakes, pastries, everything except pies. My pies have been used as frisbees more than once. I just don't have the knack for pie dough, but I keep trying.
She taught me to keep house and care for a family. This turned out to be very helpful when she was hurt and in a body cast for an extended period of time. I helped the best I could. My mom has been through lots in her life. Loss of her father, mother, step father, sister and brother, as well as many other shirttail relatives. You see her mother came from a family of 13 kids. We have a lot of extended family. She is the one that always shows up to help when something happens. She is your friend with the neverending supply of hugs and food.
My mom is one of my best friends. People say we sound alike. I don't hear it, but I guess they are right, on numerous occasions I have answered her phone and people talk like they know me. Funny, I have to ask them if they want to talk to mom. They usually laugh and say "you sound just like her". I try and talk to her at least a few times a week. I miss being able to go to her house when something is bothering me and get advice (2000 miles is a long way). It is strange that you don't know what you have, until its not there(being so far apart). I miss having her next door.
We have all moved far from home. I know that mom misses us as much as we do her. We try to call each other often, but life in general gets in the way sometimes. Mom and Dad try to come and see each of us throughout the year. I know that when they come to see me, it is a big undertaking. You see they live in Canada and I am in the United States. Between passports, medical insurance, plane tickets and long trips to and from the airport, it is not much fun. I do however love it when they come to visit, especially because while here, Mom always makes me "Butter tarts" my favourite. I miss her. I wish we were closer. Maybe some day soon we will live closer. You see, at some point I want her to know that I will be there. Not that I think she will need me.. I just want her to know that should that time come, I will be proud to finally be able to return the favour and take care of her.
The problem with teaching a kid, is they already know everything. No one can tell you anything. And dear god, from your parents, that is like telling a kid to give up music. Learning from parents is a fate worse than death, or so kids think. Your parents are "Old", how could they teach you anything. They don't know anything and they are so old, how could they remember if they had known!!! Funny the things you think when your young. I bet now that my kids are grown, they have begun to think that, I am not as stupid as they once thought.
As a kid, I was lucky. My mother was a whiz at a lot of different things that, over the years she has passed on to me. She taught me to sew. I can remember the first "shift" I made. I was so proud. It was by far the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but I made it with my own hands. I wore it proudly. You would not catch me dead in a dress like that now, but I was proud of my accomplishment.
She taught me to knit and crochette. I have more blankets, scarves, and throws than anyone I know. It is nice though to be able to make things for people. My favourite is the baby blanket and no two are alike. People seem very appreciative of something that you took the time to make just for them. I can remember the first time I set out to make a sweater. My husband, the good man that he is, did not say anything when he tried on the pink and grey thing that I called a sweater. Lordy, lordy the sleeves where made not for humans but for, oh say a gorrilla. Needless to say he did not wear it other than just for the fitting. I felt stupid, but he said it was the thought that counted. I still have the sweater. You never know when a gorilla might come by needing another coat.
She taught me to cook. I can make a gourmet meal or chili from scratch, as well as anything in between. I am not much of a fan of pre packaged processed food. I love to bake. Cookies, cakes, pastries, everything except pies. My pies have been used as frisbees more than once. I just don't have the knack for pie dough, but I keep trying.
She taught me to keep house and care for a family. This turned out to be very helpful when she was hurt and in a body cast for an extended period of time. I helped the best I could. My mom has been through lots in her life. Loss of her father, mother, step father, sister and brother, as well as many other shirttail relatives. You see her mother came from a family of 13 kids. We have a lot of extended family. She is the one that always shows up to help when something happens. She is your friend with the neverending supply of hugs and food.
My mom is one of my best friends. People say we sound alike. I don't hear it, but I guess they are right, on numerous occasions I have answered her phone and people talk like they know me. Funny, I have to ask them if they want to talk to mom. They usually laugh and say "you sound just like her". I try and talk to her at least a few times a week. I miss being able to go to her house when something is bothering me and get advice (2000 miles is a long way). It is strange that you don't know what you have, until its not there(being so far apart). I miss having her next door.
We have all moved far from home. I know that mom misses us as much as we do her. We try to call each other often, but life in general gets in the way sometimes. Mom and Dad try to come and see each of us throughout the year. I know that when they come to see me, it is a big undertaking. You see they live in Canada and I am in the United States. Between passports, medical insurance, plane tickets and long trips to and from the airport, it is not much fun. I do however love it when they come to visit, especially because while here, Mom always makes me "Butter tarts" my favourite. I miss her. I wish we were closer. Maybe some day soon we will live closer. You see, at some point I want her to know that I will be there. Not that I think she will need me.. I just want her to know that should that time come, I will be proud to finally be able to return the favour and take care of her.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The things we did as kids
Is there someone or something in your life that, when you see it happening in your mind, makes you smile? Do you giggle every time you think of it? Do you remember what it was that made you so happy back then? Well here is my story.
We had always been friends. I don't ever remember not being friends with their family. My parents and his parents were best friend and still are. That was over 50 years ago, and when I think of the things we did, I still smile and giggle. Those were some of the happiest times in my younger days.
We spent a lot of time at their house and them at ours. We were always asking if we could go to visit. Little did our parents know(or so we thought) there was more going on during these visits, than just visiting. During those years, we would row boats across the lake to the old camp. We spent many hours out of ear shot of parents and for that matter, anyone over the age of 18. There was always a fire on the beach at night. We would sit around and tell ghost stories and scare the crap out of each other. These things would go on until the late night hours. Sitting out under the stars was fun back then. Laying in the sand and staring up into the unknown sky in awe of the Northern Lights, or a falling star. We would spend hours doing nothing, and having a great time doing it. And then there was always smoking punk wood.
For anyone that has not had the wonderful privilege of smoking this horrible thing, it is a very porous wood that usually floats in the water for a long time. It is a form of drift wood that is in little pieces. When it washes up on the beach and finally dries out, it is like smoking a cigarette, but it burns faster and hotter and tastes just like burning paper. Most who take the chance and do smoke it, do nothing but cough and gag for hours. We would hide under the stairs that went to the beach and smoke this stuff, thinking we were getting away with something really cool. We always got caught. They would just laugh at us. (not many that smoke punk wood did so without getting violently ill afterwards.) You smelled like smoke, your face was usually many shades of green, and there was normally more than one of us that this happened to. Pretty obvious what we had been up to. Even though we would get caught, we always did it again.
The fires on the beach were the best. We would all walk up and down the beach for hours picking up drift wood for the fire. We never got it going till after dark. We would always see how high we could get the flame. Some of the fires, should have been put out, but we always were fairly careful. No one ever got hurt. The parents would sit in the kitchen window shaking their heads and laughing.
Then there was the love story. I was so in love with him. In my eyes, he was the best thing that could have come into my life. He was the oldest of the four boys. For years I would follow him around, just to watch him. He was the love of my life(to bad the feeling was not as evident with him). I guess it was fairly obvious, because my parents were quite aware of what was going on, at least in my head. They said I use to look like a puppy following his every move. Oh my god, was I really that bad. Ya I probably was. I found a book cover that I had back then and guess what was written all over the front. Yep you got it, my name and his, then my name with his last name. How did we not see how pitiful we were. I even went as far as to take dancing lessons, just to be close to him. I think I got to dance with him as my partner once or twice.
Looking back now, I just laugh at how sad young love can be. I do remember that these were some of the best times in my life. We were so carefree and unencumbered by life and all the things that go along with growing up. Oh to be that way again. We had so much fun. Life was about catching bugs, watching stars, swimming and trying to get a kiss from the boy of your dreams. Life was simple back then, remembering the things we did as kids.
We had always been friends. I don't ever remember not being friends with their family. My parents and his parents were best friend and still are. That was over 50 years ago, and when I think of the things we did, I still smile and giggle. Those were some of the happiest times in my younger days.
We spent a lot of time at their house and them at ours. We were always asking if we could go to visit. Little did our parents know(or so we thought) there was more going on during these visits, than just visiting. During those years, we would row boats across the lake to the old camp. We spent many hours out of ear shot of parents and for that matter, anyone over the age of 18. There was always a fire on the beach at night. We would sit around and tell ghost stories and scare the crap out of each other. These things would go on until the late night hours. Sitting out under the stars was fun back then. Laying in the sand and staring up into the unknown sky in awe of the Northern Lights, or a falling star. We would spend hours doing nothing, and having a great time doing it. And then there was always smoking punk wood.
For anyone that has not had the wonderful privilege of smoking this horrible thing, it is a very porous wood that usually floats in the water for a long time. It is a form of drift wood that is in little pieces. When it washes up on the beach and finally dries out, it is like smoking a cigarette, but it burns faster and hotter and tastes just like burning paper. Most who take the chance and do smoke it, do nothing but cough and gag for hours. We would hide under the stairs that went to the beach and smoke this stuff, thinking we were getting away with something really cool. We always got caught. They would just laugh at us. (not many that smoke punk wood did so without getting violently ill afterwards.) You smelled like smoke, your face was usually many shades of green, and there was normally more than one of us that this happened to. Pretty obvious what we had been up to. Even though we would get caught, we always did it again.
The fires on the beach were the best. We would all walk up and down the beach for hours picking up drift wood for the fire. We never got it going till after dark. We would always see how high we could get the flame. Some of the fires, should have been put out, but we always were fairly careful. No one ever got hurt. The parents would sit in the kitchen window shaking their heads and laughing.
Then there was the love story. I was so in love with him. In my eyes, he was the best thing that could have come into my life. He was the oldest of the four boys. For years I would follow him around, just to watch him. He was the love of my life(to bad the feeling was not as evident with him). I guess it was fairly obvious, because my parents were quite aware of what was going on, at least in my head. They said I use to look like a puppy following his every move. Oh my god, was I really that bad. Ya I probably was. I found a book cover that I had back then and guess what was written all over the front. Yep you got it, my name and his, then my name with his last name. How did we not see how pitiful we were. I even went as far as to take dancing lessons, just to be close to him. I think I got to dance with him as my partner once or twice.
Looking back now, I just laugh at how sad young love can be. I do remember that these were some of the best times in my life. We were so carefree and unencumbered by life and all the things that go along with growing up. Oh to be that way again. We had so much fun. Life was about catching bugs, watching stars, swimming and trying to get a kiss from the boy of your dreams. Life was simple back then, remembering the things we did as kids.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Sisters
Do any of you have siblings? Have you had to share your whole life? Do you love and resent your siblings all at the same time? I'm here to tell you, there is nothing better than being a sister to a bunch of younger kids. The power and control that you have over these people is phenomenal.
I was lucky enough to have two sisters and a brother. I don't ever remember being without my sisters. Now my brother is another issue completely. He was born much later in my childhood. I was 16 when he came on the scene. My sisters and I were inseparable when young. We seemed to drift apart as we got into our teens. Then came the boyfriend stage, where you did not even speak to each other. From there we were married and now had lives and families of our own. Now our children are gone with families of their own and that leaves us time to contemplate life. As you get older and realize how important family is, you depend more and more on their output and feedback in the decisions life throws at you. Now, if a day goes by that I don't talk to them, I go through withdrawals. It is like I cannot live without at least speaking to them daily.
Now it is funny, over the years I have come to realize that sisters do not have to be linked by blood. I have some sisters that started out as just acquaintances. They have however grown to be part of my life and family. They have been there for me and I for them, through some of life's worst and best times. We cry, laugh and ponder the things life throws at us, but we do it together. These are the people that you don't feel strange calling at two in the morning and telling them that you just called to vent. They don't judge you they just listened and at times laugh at the things you have told them. They are just there for you no matter what. I have over the years had many friends. Not many that I would call a sister. There are however a few that have held me together, and I them during some really tough times. These people are the lifes blood of sisterhood. You don't have to be related to a person to call them your sister.
The computer has become my greatest friend. Facebook, the wonder of all wonders, is my lifeline to my family. We log on before bed, before work and midday just because. It is such a joy to be able to speak to my sisters, who live so far away, when ever I get the urge. I love being able to bounce ideas off them, that are eventually relevant to all of us, before embarking on some crazy unbalanced feat of stupidity. It is so nice knowing that they are there to support me even in some of the stupidest things imaginable. They have been there for me each and every time, usually laughing uncontrollably and pointing fingers, but in the end, they were always there.
We tease each other about our short comings. We laugh at all the bad things that have happened, usually because if we didn't we would be sobbing our eyes out. The things we have endured over the years have made our bond stronger than ever. As my sister Deb says, once in a while I throw myself a pity party for about 5 minutes. Then it's, "put on your big girl panties" and get on with your life. We have all had bad things happen in our lives. Some a little worse than others. There are horrible things in every family, we have had to deal with, Parkinson's, Diabetes, Cancer and Heart Disease in ours, but we keep on going. We are there for each other.
I do think in my heart of hearts that, our parents are proud of how we turned out. We have all had our share of tragedy and come through it all. There has been good and bad that we have had to endure. We are a little worse for wear, but still plugging along. We are sisters to the end. A sister is a sister is a sister. So for all of you out there that think you can make it on your own, think again. There is nothing like a SISTER.
I was lucky enough to have two sisters and a brother. I don't ever remember being without my sisters. Now my brother is another issue completely. He was born much later in my childhood. I was 16 when he came on the scene. My sisters and I were inseparable when young. We seemed to drift apart as we got into our teens. Then came the boyfriend stage, where you did not even speak to each other. From there we were married and now had lives and families of our own. Now our children are gone with families of their own and that leaves us time to contemplate life. As you get older and realize how important family is, you depend more and more on their output and feedback in the decisions life throws at you. Now, if a day goes by that I don't talk to them, I go through withdrawals. It is like I cannot live without at least speaking to them daily.
Now it is funny, over the years I have come to realize that sisters do not have to be linked by blood. I have some sisters that started out as just acquaintances. They have however grown to be part of my life and family. They have been there for me and I for them, through some of life's worst and best times. We cry, laugh and ponder the things life throws at us, but we do it together. These are the people that you don't feel strange calling at two in the morning and telling them that you just called to vent. They don't judge you they just listened and at times laugh at the things you have told them. They are just there for you no matter what. I have over the years had many friends. Not many that I would call a sister. There are however a few that have held me together, and I them during some really tough times. These people are the lifes blood of sisterhood. You don't have to be related to a person to call them your sister.
The computer has become my greatest friend. Facebook, the wonder of all wonders, is my lifeline to my family. We log on before bed, before work and midday just because. It is such a joy to be able to speak to my sisters, who live so far away, when ever I get the urge. I love being able to bounce ideas off them, that are eventually relevant to all of us, before embarking on some crazy unbalanced feat of stupidity. It is so nice knowing that they are there to support me even in some of the stupidest things imaginable. They have been there for me each and every time, usually laughing uncontrollably and pointing fingers, but in the end, they were always there.
We tease each other about our short comings. We laugh at all the bad things that have happened, usually because if we didn't we would be sobbing our eyes out. The things we have endured over the years have made our bond stronger than ever. As my sister Deb says, once in a while I throw myself a pity party for about 5 minutes. Then it's, "put on your big girl panties" and get on with your life. We have all had bad things happen in our lives. Some a little worse than others. There are horrible things in every family, we have had to deal with, Parkinson's, Diabetes, Cancer and Heart Disease in ours, but we keep on going. We are there for each other.
I do think in my heart of hearts that, our parents are proud of how we turned out. We have all had our share of tragedy and come through it all. There has been good and bad that we have had to endure. We are a little worse for wear, but still plugging along. We are sisters to the end. A sister is a sister is a sister. So for all of you out there that think you can make it on your own, think again. There is nothing like a SISTER.
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