Letting Go

New Blog is UP!

2005-12-06T20:23:00.000-05:00

WE HAVE MOVED!!!

All Blogged Up: A Moof's Tale

The new blog is finally up on its own server. There are still a few issues I need to work out - like getting everything into the sidebar which should be there - but nearly all of my "Letting Go" posts have been copied onto the new Blog.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to bring the comments with me. I would dearly have loved to. I hope that you will all come to my new blog- All Blogged Up: A Moof's Tale - and keep reading my posts, and leaving me comments!

Please - if you've blogrolled me, don't forget to update your links ...

http://moof.blogsplot.net

By the way, those pictures you see in the Header (top) of the blog are photos that we've taken - either of home, or of our little camp on a small local lake. The picture should change every time you reload. There are 10 of them there now ... I'd like to add some more, in time.

Now - don't let me be lonely - drop in and say "hi" and be sociable! :-)

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Doctors Who Pray

2005-12-06T10:05:00.000-05:00

The theme seems to keep coming up ... and I'm never left untouched, indifferent.

Doctors who pray - before surgeries, for wisdom in dealing with their patients, for coping when they feel overwhelmed, for the moment by moment of their professional lives, of their private lives ...

What would lead a scientist to yield his head, heart, mind - spirit - and search out a place to commune, in the silence of his center, with a "Higher Being?" How is it that the experiential intellect is able to interfuse with the incorporeal spirit?

The phenomena always holds me in rapt fascination. I want to beg them to stop - tell me what it is they're experiencing, thinking ... describe what is motivating them ... I want to understand. There's a key in there, someplace ...

Somehow, even in my inability to comprehend the driving force that morphs the man of science into the man of prayer, I admit that I would far more easily place own trust in a physician who does pray, whatever my own beliefs may be. The realm of trust and faith is less frightening when the objects of your reliance are themselves humble enough to acknowledge their own trust and faith in a Power they can neither quantify nor qualify.

The The Cheerful Oncologist breaks open the The Serenity Prayer for his readers, giving us a glimpse of how he channels the "angst" he experiences when being "bombarded" by the ills of those he treats. Dr. Bob from The Doctor is In graces us with another post of amazing depth and clarity, piercingly candid, with his latest post: The Conversation.

You can pass them by if you'd like, but you would be the poorer for the omission.

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New Blog Location Coming Soon ...

2005-12-06T08:30:00.000-05:00

Last week, I picked up a nice new domain name ... and last night, I finally decided where to put it. Now, the DNS just needs to propagate across the internet, and my dear son needs to set up the SQL database for me ... (not to mention teach me how to do it for myself! ;-) ...

When all of that is done, my top entry here on Blogspot will sport a nice shiny link to my new Blog. I'm dropping the "anonymity" in the new blog, since it won't make any difference to those of you who don't know me, and those of you who do know me have figured out that I was blogging ... 0.o ... I wonder how that happened ...

I keep thinking that I really didn't need to discover blogging ... especially not now, at this very busy time of my life, because when I get "into" something, I can't do it in moderation ... but the fact is, I'm willingly addicted, and wondering where it will eventually lead -- besides eye strain and tendinitis. ;)

A First Ray of Sunlight ...

2005-12-04T16:27:00.000-05:00

A year ago at the end of this last July, our family was blessed when a sweet young lady moved into our home. I'll never forget that first night - as she sat tearful and fretting on the sofa near my computer, with her suitcases and bags around her feet - all she was able to carry when she'd left the campground she and her mom had been working in every summer. At that moment - those few items, and our little family, were her entire world. Less than a year later, she was to become my daughter-in-law, but that was still a long ways off ...

My heart was breaking for her ... I could feel the fear and anxiety just radiating from her direction. I wanted so badly to grab her and squeeze her, and tell her that we would all love her so much that she would never regret what she'd done, but I didn't want to overwhelm her; she looked so fragile, like a little bird tossed in a gale of emotion.

I couldn't believe that this was only the fourth time I'd ever seen her, because I felt as if I'd known her for years. I was both relieved that she was out of the impossible situation she'd been in as long as I'd known her - indeed, her entire life up until that moment, but also worried, very worried, about what the future would bring for this sweet little sparrow who'd finally found her wings ...

Thus began Sarah's walk with us ... so helpless and fearful looking, that overcast hot July evening nearly a year and a half ago.

Sarah had just escaped from a lifetime of manipulation that could be called criminal - in both its quantity and quality. I wouldn't be able to list the things that were done to her here - that's beyond the scope of a mere blog entry - however, I can give you a few items to ponder ...

She was raised to be anorexic. She believed that crash diets, enemas ... etc. ... were a normal part of every adolescent's life. Who taught her this? Her mother. That was the same woman who, on Sarah's second visit to us, called Sarah and screamed at her over the cell phone, ordering her to cut her day with us short so that she could return to the campground, and go out on a date with a fellow she had no interest in seeing. Her mother never realized that we were all in the car, and we'd been able to hear (unable to NOT hear!) the entire tirade. Sarah acquiesced, and my son, God love him, drove his intended bride all the way back to the campground, an hour away, so that his lady-love could go on a date with some other fellow - a date her mother arraganged. In fact, although Sarah had obtained permission (with great difficulty) to spend that time with us, her mother had called and humiliated her on both of the first two afternoons we spent together.

Yes, I know that teen-agers are sometimes given to seeing even the best of parents in a jaundiced light. When I first heard about what was happening in Sarah's life, I wondered if we may just not be hearing both sides of the story. The more my sons and I got to know her, however, the more we realized that there was definitely something wrong - and it wasn't all Sarah. Then came the day that I met her mother, and all of my doubts vanished - forever. I could see how the lady had a reputation for being able to "fool" people, but she either underestimated my powers of observation, or simply felt so sure of own manipulative skills, that she played a very heavy, obvious, hand. I came away from that meeting full of realization and dread, sick at heart - wanting to take Sarah home with us then and there.

I wasn't able to - but we didn't have long to wait.

Less than a month later, Sarah caught her mother making photo copies of her private journal. In a phone conversation, she overheard her mother and brother ... he was on his way up from Massachusetts. This was it. They had gone too far, and she was afraid of just what they might do next. She'd recently been locked in her cabin for a month ... would they take her away from New Hampshire and lock her up someplace else? She called my son. I had no idea what was going on when he left the house - but he knew me, and how I felt, well enough to know that he didn't need to ask. About an hour later, the phone rang. It was him: "Moof! I'm on my way home, and I have Sarah with me."

Sweet Sarah, frightened - but finally free ... at least physically.

We went through some serious "re-organizing" in our ancient, drafty, cluttered home. Daein was still home from college, his fiance was under our roof - tongues would wag. Arrangements were made to everyone's satisfaction, and Sarah became my "new" daughter.

Daein left for college, and Sarah became my companion. The first year was tough. I had some rather debilitating surgery just over a month after she moved in, and I wasn't able to get around and get her the things that she needed, and the poor little lady went around wearing my old, stained, beat up clothes - good enough for an old lady like me, not for a sweet little angel like her. But she was good and patient, and always tried to make me feel better about my falling so short of being able to get her properly settled in.

I worried at first, quite a bit, about Sarah starving herself - about the habits she'd been taught were normal, and safe. I was so afraid that she would end up with acidosis or some horrible electrolyte imbalance. Over a period of time, although she never lost her weight-consciousness, she began to eat normal portions, and even to snack a bit.

Oh! And that's another story! There were so many things her mother had never allowed her to eat ... chocolate, other types of candy ... even Jello! She was "virgin territory" for food! I believe that she consumed a small country's-worth of Jello when she first tasted it! As I was gleefully introducing new foods to her, she was slowly becoming my "18 year old fashion advisor." And oh my - did I ever need one! I gave her Jello - she gave me blue toenail polish, toe rings ... and we gave each other self confidence!

In spite of how much we had come to enjoy each other's company - and the long, long talks we shared daily - I was still very worried about our little Sarah. She felt as if everything that happened was her fault. If she'd done this ... or if she'd only done that ... or if she'd thought in this way ... or ... I kept telling her that it was not her fault. She'd hear me, she'd agree - but it kept coming up, and I knew she felt guilty - all the time. I wasn't getting through to her.

I was pushing, gently, for her to make "friendly" advances toward her mother and brother, because she misses her little nieces, and in spite of everything, loves her family. I wanted to see Sarah free, making her own decisions, but not losing her relationship to her family. I thought she just needed to draw a line and say: "I love you, but I'm living my own life. You will treat me with respect, and I will treat you with respect. Let's start over from this new perspective, because we're family - we shouldn't stay apart." It wasn't long before I had to drop my urgings about she and her family "loving and being respectful" of each other. I watched her try to be friendly, and repeatedly end up being screamed at, verbally abused ... her mother even sued her for money. All we could do was be silent in the face of all of this insanity, and continue to try encouraging Sarah. I spent a lot of time contemplating what I would be like today had I been treated in the same way ...

Daein finished his junior year, came home last spring, and he and Sarah were married. Now she really is my daughter. I always tell her, "Sarah! Why weren't you mine to begin with?" ... Daein always objects, he'd rather have her as a wife ... :-)

Sarah and Daein are now in their own little place up near the University of Maine. I miss her terribly, but this is the way things are supposed to be. She's trying to get their little apartment set up ... with her Cafe Louis kitchen, and her Hello Kitty bathroom. She's even learning to make (and EAT!) some of the nicest chocolate chip cookies I've ever had.

But where is this all going? Sarah is finally for the first time in her life, free emotionally as well as physically. She's been sending me emails about a web site she found - concerning a disorder named "BPD." I thought I was pretty savvy about those things, but I'd never heard of that one. "Borderline Personality Disorder." She sent me a web link, and I was amazed to read what the signs of BPD are ... it was as if Sarah had written the web site about her mother. Blow by blow - classic. Dumbfounding.

I guess it's not going to help Sarah's mother much, because from what I can gather, few people ever recover ... however, it's released Sarah from the last of her chains. She now realizes that it wasn't her fault. She realizes that she is not crazy. She realizes that her mother is ill, and that makes it easier to forgive the lifetime of agony, and walking on eggshells ...

Sarah is finally, truly, totally FREE!

I asked Sarah if I could blog about all of this, and she said I could - (thank you, Honey!) There's still so much to say ... I could write forever ... but really, it's Sarah's story to tell. She's writing her autobiography, and I think that if she edits it carefully, and it falls into the right hands, it will go a long way.

I wonder how many people are living the way she did, and have no idea that it's not their fault ... ?

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Quote of the Day (Season?)

2005-12-04T16:09:00.000-05:00

(Offline Yahoo IM waiting for me this afternoon ... )

DocBrian: Other than that, the world is just a utopia of RamaHannaKwansMas goodwill and cheer!

Ayuh! And back at ya, Bri! ;-)

0.o

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"Suicide of the West"

2005-12-02T16:11:00.000-05:00

Take a look at what "It's Me, T.J." found ... guaranteed to make you stop and think ...

dogscatskidslife: "Suicide of the West"

Tergiversiwhattheheck???

2005-12-01T10:28:00.000-05:00

The Cheerful Oncologist is at it again ...

In this post, the good doctor gives us some insight into why we sometimes feel that our physicians appear to be using unintelligible double-speak when "letting us in" on what makes us tick (or not) ... *cough* ...

"Sometimes doctors have to provide counseling in such a manner as to not create a wailing morass of distraught relatives who become a whirling dervish of misinformation and despair. You may call it tergiversation, but we pros call it diplomacy."

... methinks he "tergiversates" even as he explains that he "tergiversates!" ;-)

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A Little Common Sense, Please

2005-11-30T15:46:00.000-05:00

Wednesday is the big "Medscape" day - my inbox fills with all the latest news on every medical subject imaginable. HIPAA ... Statins protecting against certain heart problems ... you name it. Medscape's a great informatics repository ...

Today, I saw the following headline: Who Gets Shot? Firearms and the Doctor.

I cringed a little, and almost passed it over. But my curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked ... and found exactly what I was hoping I wouldn't find.

The very gentlemanly fellow in the video quietly urged generalists to "advise the family to get the guns out of the house, and to follow up on that advice." The reasons for this appeal: guns are the suicide method of choice, accounting for 60% of all suicides, with 80% of those being committed by white males. The speaker felt general practitioners should "advise" their patients, especially those who appear depressed, to admit whether they have guns in their home, and that there should then be some pressure leveraged against the patient to get rid of them.

I did a bit of research on the statistics. I found the following blurb provided by the National Institute of Mental Health:

"More than four times as many men as women die by suicide; but women attempt suicide more often during their lives than do men, and women report higher rates of depression. Men and women use different suicide methods. Women in all countries are more likely to ingest poisons than men. In countries where the poisons are highly lethal and/or where treatment resources scarce, rescue is rare and hence female suicides outnumber males."

I have to ask - should the GP's also ask their depressed female patients if they have bleach in the house? Or peroxide? Prescription meds? Or even nicer for the real wimps among us - a gas oven - or a bottle of Nyquil and a plastic bag? And if the poor hapless patient admits to having such dangerous items under their roof, should the physician then insist the patient "get rid of them?"

Remove guns - other methods are used. Removing guns is not the answer. A man who hasn't got a gun handy - may have a rope ... or a high bridge ... or - well, just about anything, if he's really determined.

I do believe that physicians should inquire about depression, and perhaps even do some gentle probing as to just how deep the condition may run - however, to tell a patient to get rid of their firearms is another thing altogether, and smacks heavily of the anti-gun lobby's influence in our daily lives. To interject this argument into the patient/physician relationship is pure disingenuity.

The gun debate does not belong in medicine.

Yes, people are killed by guns - some by accident, some not. The percent of those killed by accidents involving cars, high places and water are hugely higher. Are we going to take away personal transportation and stepladders? Are we going to stop depressed people from swimming?

Just how far into a person's home and private life do we have the right to go?

Although we have guns in our home, and are avid hunters, I'm not politically involved in the pro-gun movement. But I do need to say that I believe the trend toward the invasion of our privacy, and the subsequent micromanagement of our lives, is becoming quite frightening. It's the classic "frog in the pot" scenario ... put the frog in a pot of cold water, put the pot on the stove ... turn the burner on low. Ever so gradually, without Mr. Ribbit realizing the danger he's in: froggy soup!

Patriots have died in order for us to enjoy our freedoms, yet we're busily taking apart the very basis those freedoms were built on as we try to legislate our somewhat effeminate views upon an increasingly apathetic nation.

"I think that this isn't right, or that is dangerous, or such-'n-such shouldn't happen, or ... (yadda yadda - ad nauseam) ... so you shouldn't have the right to do it!"

If we expended as much energy on improving ourselves as we do on improving everyone around us, we would live in a perfect world ...

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Web Updates

2005-11-30T15:22:00.000-05:00

Have begun slowly updating a web site I've allowed to lay fallow for over a year and a half. People are sending me suggestions and requests - what to update, what to change, what to add ...

Today, I got a request which I was glad to accept: "Please update your humor page!

I've got to be careful what I put up on that site ... people tend to scandalize fairly easy! ;-)

Any suggestions for clean jokes would be appreciated ... I'll try to add one to the page every few days.

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Poetry within Poetry

2005-11-29T19:38:00.000-05:00

The Cheerful Oncologist has posted a bit of poetry for our pleasure, but it was his prose between the verses that rent my heart:

Finally, just as our journey reaches a pleasant equilibrium between labor and comfort, night falls in the middle of the afternoon, leaving us stranded on a distant hillside. The forest begins to envelope us as our vision dims. Perhaps we will wander on blindly until we find the bank of the river which leads us home. We must be prepared, however, to accept the coming night. With the power that comes only from within we can find the courage to rest peacefully against a fallen tree, our eyes turned upward toward the darkness as we await the first caress of snowflakes we cannot see.

Hard to read dry eyed ...

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Of Urban Legends and Dinner Dates

2005-11-29T10:02:00.000-05:00

Now, don't get me wrong - I love going out to eat. If I could, I would go to a different restaurant every single day - or actually, the same ones over and over, because I'm inescapably a creature of habit. But- I would never leave the house before 4 PM - and I would only rarely do it with a single person.

Why? * Mornings * are * so * hard * for * me. * Having to be someplace before noon is enough to give me avoidance dreams all night long. I'm not a lay-a-bed, I just don't like leaving the house in the morning. Mornings are when I do my best with certain types of school work, my house cleaning, any sort of busy activity that doesn't call for a lot of deeeeeep thought. Socializing does not fit in that category. My poor, ol' beaten up bod wakes up long before my bemused and befuddled brain.

I especially dread lunches with people whom I know are going to expect me to do more than listen to them ... I'm a good listener ... but I hate having to talk. Add that to the knowledge that the person you're meeting kept you on a leash in Wal-Mart for two hours the last time you ran into them ... *cringe* !!! Groups are easy - someone is always willing to chit-chat, keep the conversation going ... but one on one ... ohhhh man!

Folks ... it's gonna be a long day.

When I get home, I'm going to have slightly more fun ... *cough.* This week, I have to do a persuasive essay ... on Urban Legends. Did you hear the groan from all the way wherever you are? Oh my! Gen Eds are so much fun! Again, don't get me wrong - I love to write. But Urban Legends? I'm only slightly more interested in Urban Legends than I am daytime soap operas, or the spam that hits my inbox; my greatest interest where the former are concerned is that I don't have to be where I can hear them, and with the latter - making it stop!

Ah well, what is it that my dear sainted Mother used to say? "This too shall pass!" Sounded different in French though .... ;-)

And so, off to face my day - full of the "fluff" that gums up an otherwise nice peanut butter sandwich ... if I survive, I'll drop another note later ... 0.o

Addendum: There are times that I enjoy a nice, quiet "one on one" ... for example, when I'm with someone I can share a comfortable silence with, like my dear mother-in-law, or when someone needs a "sounding board." Being a "sounding board" is easy, but comfortable silences are precious, and hard to come by ...

Addendum to the addendum: maybe there is such a thing as answered prayer? My "dinner date" never showed up! That leaves me free to help another friend who is moving carry boxes ... isn't life grand? *blink*

Addendum to the addendum to the ... erm ... you get the idea ...

That friend I was going to help ... she left without me ... I never even saw her. Just she and one of my sons. I got to spend nearly 4 hours at the library doing research. Still amazed! Fortunate fluke of fate! ;-)

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This Gives a Whole New Meaning to Wife Swapping!

2005-11-28T10:34:00.000-05:00

Families in kidney swap give thanks

AP Photo/Mike Derer :: David Dorlen, left, sits with his wife, Dr. Rosalind Dorlen, both of Mountainside, N.J., and Ann Heavner, second from right, sits with her husband, Tom Packard, both of New York City.

By Associated Press
WAYNE PARRY
Updated: 11/26/05

SUMMIT, N.J.

In April, they were total strangers who nonetheless shared a dire dilemma: two women whose husbands needed a kidney, but who could not give one of their own to their spouse.

But after being brought together by a hospital and arranging a swap in which each woman donated a kidney to the other's husband, they will share Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday to celebrate the arrangement that saved two lives and bonded four new friends.

"I can't comprehend what this Thanksgiving would have been like without that kidney swap in April," said one of the women, Dr. Rosalind Dorlen, a psychologist in Summit. "This is a time of great joy for us and our families."

"This is an entirely miraculous holiday," added Ann Heavner, a retired financial researcher for Standard & Poors who lives in New York City.

The women wanted to help their husbands, but couldn't because of incompatible blood types. Dorlen's husband, David, 71, was undergoing kidney failure after years of high blood pressure. Heavner's husband, Tom Packard, 65, a senior vice president at Wachovia Securities, also had high blood pressure and a congenital condition that put added stress on his kidneys, requiring painful dialysis three times a week.

"I had a really rough time with it," he said. "I'd get violent cramps, nausea, and I was just wiped out. It would take me at least a day to recover from each treatment."

Both men knew they needed new kidneys, and set out with their wives to research what was available. They learned of a kidney swap program at New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Columbia University Medical Center that brings together families just like theirs.

"It is a great opportunity for family members who want to donate but are not compatible with their own family member to be able to donate," said Dr. David Cohen, medical director of the hospital's renal and pancreatic transplantation program.

Dr. Lloyd Ratner, who heads the program, performed the surgery on April 21, which involved four operating rooms coordinating the removal of kidneys from the women and the transplantation into the men. He said the use of live donors expands the pool of potential transplants; many kidney transplants come from cadavers.

"There are not enough organs and we need to be able to use any live donor that we have," he said.

The families are supposed to be kept apart before the surgery in case they do not click on some level and one party decides to back out at the last moment. But due to a scheduling snafu, both families arrived at the hospital at precisely the same time: 6 a.m.

"It's unusual to come to a hospital and see each member of a couple holding an overnight bag," said Rosalind Dorlen. "Here we are, four of us, with four bags, walking onto the same elevator at 6 a.m."

"Rosalind said, `You must be the other couple,' " Packard recalled with a laugh. "I said, `I think we are.' "

The surgery was done laporascopically, involving tiny surgical instruments inserted through two tiny incisions in the skin. It's much less invasive and less painful than older techniques. The women said it took them several weeks to recover. Now, they feel exactly as they did before the surgery.

Packard came through it so well that he is off most of his post-transplant medication, and his blood pressure is the envy of men decades younger than he is. David Dorlen is recovering more slowly, but he still feels better than before the operation.

Since the surgery, the couples have become close friends, going out to dinner twice a month. They even took a joint vacation to Saratoga in August to go to the track, long one of Packard's great joys.

The two families, with children and other relatives in tow, will gather in the Dorlens' Mountainside home on Thursday to express how truly grateful they are for each other's generosity. Packard has his version of the pre-meal grace speech written in his head, which should go something like this:

"In the words of that immortal philosopher Yogi Berra, when they gave him a special day to honor him in St. Louis, he stepped up to the microphone and told everyone, `Thank you for making this day necessary,' " Packard said. "I want to thank you for coming here to celebrate this wonderful miracle, and for making this Thanksgiving necessary."

Happynews.com; Happy News: Families in Kidney Swap Give Thanks
Last visited: 28 Nov 2005; Last updated: 28 Nov 2005
http://www.happynews.com/news/11262005/families-in-kidney-swap-to-give-thanks.htm

In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, any copyrighted work on this web site is distributed under fair use without profit or payment for non-profit research and educational purposes only. [Ref. http://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.shtml]

My career type ...

2005-11-28T00:36:00.000-05:00

Your Career Type: Investigative

You are precise, scientific, and intellectual.
Your talents lie in understanding and solving math and science problems.

You would make an excellent:

Architect - Biologist - Chemist
Dentist - Electrical Technician - Mathematician
Medical Technician - Meteorologist - Pharmacist
Physician - Surveyor - Veterinarian

The worst career options for your are enterprising careers, like lawyer or real estate agent.

What's Your Ideal Career?

Now, that would be far more accurate if they'd separated the *science* question from the *math* question! *LOL*

Changes down the road ... ?

2005-11-26T21:44:00.000-05:00

Ever since I started school back in August, there's been some discussion about perhaps moving from the online college experience, and actually making the journey 300 miles north to the University of Maine. Daunting. More than daunting. Terrifying ...

It makes sense though. My credit hours at DeVry are $480 apiece! Imagine! I don't expect to live long enough to pay that sort of tuition back ... *cringe*

Up at the University of Maine, my tuition per credit hour would be less than $200. With that sort of fee, I think my financial aid would even pay for housing.

And that's not all ...

At U of M, I believe I would be able to take an actual Medical Informatics course which is well balanced between the medical sciences and IT. That would cut two years from my education. At the moment, I'm taking Health Information Technology, really light in the computer sciences, but heavy in health tech - with a bit of health management on the side. After finishing up, I'd need to start from scratch with DeVry's Biomedical Informatics course, which is far too weighted toward the IT side, and very light on the medical side. I was hoping to do it this way in order to have a better rounded education. However ... reality is: I'm going to be nearly 60 when I graduate!

... Right! ... I'll be dribbling on my diploma!

But at 54, with some serious health concerns, the thought of moving away from home for 10 months out of each year for the next 4 to 6 years is, to put it mildy, a little looney sounding.

My son who's a student up at U of M was home for Thanksgiving, and we were discussing the possibilities. He assures me that there's plenty of *cough* "old people" up there going to school, and that I would not be roomed with some 18 year old, gum snapping, boyfriend chasing, green haired ... *blink* ... (did I say that OUT LOUD??? ;-)

There's a geriatric dorm at the University of Maine???

Anyway, he would still be up there the entire time I would be, since he's staying there in order to get his PhD, so that would be a plus. But still ...

College on my lap top ... safe, easy, no-hassle ... ... ... leaving home, sitting in class rooms, living in a dorm ... !?!?

I wonder if the student canteen sells Depends ... ?

Post Chaos Post ... ;-)

2005-11-25T17:29:00.000-05:00

I promised to post some pictures. Here they are. Names have been changed to protect the guilty!

Last night, after things quieted down, I found out that there may actually be more than "hype" to the claim that tryptophan can knock your lights out! We not only all fell asleep before bedtime, we had a hard time getting up this morning! I don't think I've slept as late since my teen years! ;-)

Good thing that we slept in, though. We awoke to frozen water pipes. Don't want to have to deal with that any earlier in the morning than necessary. It's going to be a very long winter, I'm afraid ...

And now, here are some pics ... our own warm little episode of chaos ...

Pre-chaos plate placement ... ;-)

Serious business here ... !

The fellow on the right is the Chef! I made the pies, but he made the meal. And what a meal! Everything from a turkey which was so moist it fell apart, to the garlic mashed potatoes ... a gourmand's dream!

The fellow on the left is my son-in-law. He's from Sweden, and makes addictive Swedish Meatballs. We've told him that he can't come to our Christmas Eve Reveillon unless he brings some along! >;-)

The dude on the left is my oldest son ... and if you can see the word "trouble" written across that face, you're right! On the right is a friend of his who was kind enough to join us. I'm not sure he had any idea of just what he was getting into. I hear they think he's going to recover, though ... ;-)

Youngest son and sweet little daughter-in-law ... victims of tryptophan poisoning ... ;-)

Daughter-in-law with my oldest grandson. Don't let his peaceful demeanor kid you - we had to glue him to the sofa for this shot! Actually, he loves his auntie enough to actually sit still next to her long enough to not resemble the Tasmanian Devil!

Second grandson ... he's in his "Don't LOOK at me!" stage ...

These people showed up at my door, and I have no idea who they are. I felt sorry for them and let them in ... I was soon having second thoughts ... 0.o

Actually, that's really my brother and his wife ... and I tried to get a second, more presentable shot, really I did!!!

_________________________________

Let us be thankful that we have one another. If not for the warmth and love of family, life would be naught but a long winter's eve ...

Old Friends ...

2005-11-23T09:22:00.000-05:00

Last night, I met with some dear old friends for dinner. We enjoyed each others' company ... there was a lot of teasing, laughing, raising glasses and toasts ... it was one of those little gems which I can savor later, when things are quiet, and I'm by myself.

On the way home, my mother-in-law and I began to talk about some of her health problems. Her nephrologist has been after her to prepare herself for dialysis ... and she admitted to me last night that she wasn't sure she wanted to do that. The warmth of our little meeting was suddenly sucked up into the dark empty of the cold, driving rain which was making the road so hard to see. Trying to keep my voice from showing what I was feeling, I asked her to consider that we still needed her ... that her creatinine would improve if she were on dialysis, and she would be feeling better ... that whenever anything happens, the first I think is, "I can't wait to tell her!" ... that I could help her with the home dialysis ... anything ... anything ... just please don't bail on us.

Once home, as I should have been asleep to prepare for all of today's cleaning and baking, I was instead morosely considering that the majority of my very closest friends are in my mother-in-law's generation. None of them are in good health. They all seem to be in a race to leave ...

At the moment, I still have them ... Fr. Paul, Fr. Bob, Fr. Joe ... Althea ... "Mom" England ... Susan ... Emery ... There will come a time when our "get togethers" of 9 and 10 people will become sad little "nights out" with only 2 or 3. Is this what it's all about?

Letting go ... is so hard to do.

I visited "The Doctor is In," and cut and pasted some of his many inspirational posts ... and printed them out so that I could have them at my bedside for those long wee early hours when sleep won't come because there are too many faces, too many ideas, parading through my mind. While they certainly won't put me to sleep from boredom - they may let me eke out a bit of peace, and thus some z's.

And now ... I need to head for the kitchen, and make some pies. I'll take pictures tomorrow, and share them with you - whoever you are, out there - reading my sometimes "long" thoughts.

Peaceful Thanksgiving Day, everyone! May your homes be warm, loud with voices you that are dear to you, and full of cheerful bustling.

It's Worth What???

2005-11-22T15:27:00.000-05:00

As I was looking over the meager leavings in my Site Meter account, I came across something I'd never seen before ... it was a link from a site named Blog Shares. Blog Shares?

Curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked ... expecting to find yet another of those sites which have absolutely nothing to do with your site, do not have a link to your site, and which you've never lain eyes on before.

Instead, I found a page which contained the IP to my blog, and a value! $3,977.37!!! Wow! Can I cash that in now, or later?

I looked further down the page a bit, and discovered that some fellow I'd never heard of owned 75% of the "shares" in my blog!!! Now wait just one cotton picking ...

The words "CLAIM BLOG" caught my eye on the right edge of the screen, and I thought, "Ok! I'll show this fella!" and vehemently attacked the link as if that would put an end to the entire fiasco!

Uh oh. No such luck. "You need to be logged in to claim a blog." Oh poop! And I'll bet you can't guess what you need to do before you can log in, eh? *nyuck nyuck*

Ok. I made an account. I logged in. And now I'm the proud owner of yet another little button in my sidebar.

Do we get points for how many of those we have when we die?

If you don't read this ...

2005-11-20T23:03:00.000-05:00

... you're missing out ...

"The Doctor is In" has posted a new entry ... and I'm still reeling from the impact. There's more food for thought there than I bargained for. It may end up being just what I've been looking for these last two years ...

Please, if you haven't done so yet, go take a look at "The Choice of Fools" ... and read each and every word. Read it twice. Make a home for it.

I'm going to print it out and take it to bed with me so that I can read again before I go to sleep ...

PC Poppycock ...

2005-11-19T08:28:00.000-05:00

Just had to share this ... it seriously makes me wonder if the median IQ across the globe is going down, or if it's just that more people are rising to their level of incompetence ... ;-)

"Deferred Success" is new term for failure?

By Arthur Spiegelman

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - In 2005, some people wanted the word "brainstorming" replaced by "thought shower" so as not to offend people with brain disorders, and they also wanted "deferred success" to replace "failure" so as not to embarrass those who don't succeed.

Both phrases appear on a tongue-in-cheek list released on Thursday of the year's most politically correct words and phrases issued by Global Language Monitor, a nonprofit group that monitors language use.

The phrase that topped this year's list was "misguided criminals," one of several terms the British Broadcasting Corporation used so as not to use the word "terrorist" in describing those who carried out train and bus bombings in London that killed 52 people in July, according to Paul JJ Payack, the head of Global Language Monitor.

He added, "The BBC attempts to strip away all emotion by using what it considers 'neutral' descriptions when describing those who carried out the bombings in the London Tubes."

Second on the list was "Intrinsic Aptitude," a phrase used by Harvard University President Lawrence Summers to explain why women might be underrepresented in engineering and science. The phrase met with "deferred success" and Summers had to fight to keep to his job.

"Thought shower" was third and a French word for riff-raff or scum, "la racaille," was fourth thanks to being used by French Interior Minister Nicholas Sarkozy to describe rioters of Muslim and North African descent in suburbs outside of Paris.

"Out of the mainstream," which Payack said was used to describe the ideology of any political opponent, was fifth and in sixth place was "deferred success" the euphemism for "fail" that Britain's Professional Association of Teachers considered using to bolster students' "self-esteem." The move met with "deferred success."

Seventh on the list was "womyn" for women in order to distance the word from men and eighth was using C.E. (Common Era) for A.D (Latin for "Year of Our Lord") so as to be more neutral in dates.

Ninth on the top 10 list was words and phrases that either de-Christianize the Christian holidays or neuter their genders. For example "God Rest Ye Merry Persons" replaces "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and "Seasons Greetings" replaces "Merry Christmas."

In 10th place was a move aimed at the heart of Australian culture when security staff were banned from using the word "mate" to address members of parliament. The MPs rebelled and said not being called "mate" was unpatriotic.

Reuters.com; "Oddly Enough News Article";
Last visited: 19 Nov 2005; Last updated: 19 Nov 2005;
http://today.reuters.com/news/newsarticle.aspx?type=oddlyEnoughNews&
storyid=2005-11-18T152638Z_01_FLE855578_RTRUKOC_0_US-ODD-
WORDS.xml

Not for the faint hearted ...

2005-11-18T10:58:00.000-05:00

Wm H from the Amazing Facts blog has a new post today ...

I admire him for having the courage to put up a link to such a graphic web site. Before I add the same link here, I need to pass on some of the warnings Wm was careful to post:

Do not go to this site unless you're prepared to see some very disturbing videos!

Click here for the link to the page Wm provided ... and here for the link to the site's index page. You go at your own risk ...

We live in a society that is beyond self-centered. We want instant gratification, and no consequences from any of our actions. It doesn't matter that the "consequences" include another human life ... it doesn't matter that the other human life would not even be if we hadn't been gratifying ourselves to begin with ... it doesn't matter that the new, genetically complete person, will never have the chance to experience that same gratification, or for that matter, ANY gratification, ever ... none of that matters - as long as we don't have to suffer from the consequences of our own actions.

Women don't want to be relegated to being "baby incubators" ... oh my! The pathos of it all! Baby incubators! I wonder how the baby who had the misfortune to end up in the womb of such a selfish, self-gratifying woman feels? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to pull up stakes, pack up his little bags, and go elsewhere ... if he had a choice. Unfortunately, he has no more choice about where he ended up, than he has about whether his very life is going to be "inconvenient" to the person who put him there ... during an act of self-gratification.

How cheap life has become. We're "enlightened" humanists, and moral morons. We've raised two generations of children who want to save the baby seals and the rain forests, but who sacrifice their own children on the altar of their "convenience."

It's truly frightening to be growing old, and to be sick, knowing that when I'm at my most vulnerable, I'm going to be in the care of a generation of people who were willing accomplices to the murder of the most helpless and innocent of the human race: the unborn baby.

A Blast from the Past

2005-11-17T10:26:00.000-05:00

After much planning, I met with two very old friends last night. One is a cousin, and the other is a girl I was friends with back in gammar school. In both cases, the last time we'd seen each other was about 28 years ago, at the baptism of my oldest son, and the meeting was brief; the last time we'd really talked was over 40 years ago.

It seemed strange to be together after all of this time. They were the only two people I had really been close to, as a youngster. I remember my surprise when I'd discovered that my cousin, who was also my dear friend, was the cousin of my other dear friend from school. We were cousins on our fathers' side, they were counsins on their mothers' side.

And last night - we closed Longhorn's in Portland, with a promise to do it again soon, and we will. I'm sure we will. We all three find ourselves at the same "time" in our lives, with many of the same thoughts, the same concerns. Will we be "good" for each other? Right now, I'm not so sure ... we have way too many "hurts" in common, I think.

Of the many things we shared, what amazed me the most is that we're basically the same people we were 40 years ago. I recognize the same attitudes, the same way of seeing life ... we just seem to be a lot more jaded ...

When I was diagnosed two years ago, I went through some radical changes. I think I've broken every paradigm I ever had ... yet these dear old girls tell me that I haven't changed since they last knew me well - over four decades ago. It makes me wonder if all of my "changes" are hidden inside, or if perhaps I had changed before my illness, and now I've gone back to being who I was originally ...

I'm not sure it really matters.

Thank you, blog land, for letting me share this little "bump" in the road of my life.

Wonderfully NOT P.C.!

2005-11-16T00:52:00.000-05:00

"It's me, T.J." posted a wonderful piece on the 12th ... called "Normal Abnormalities." It was absolutely delightful! Please take time out to read it ... IF you're not someone who hides behind PC silliness.

And if you are ... well, maybe you should go read it anyway ... >:-)

Our Brave New World ...

2005-11-14T13:25:00.000-05:00

I hate to say it, but I saw this coming ... and I think it's just the beginning ...

Chips spark ethics concerns

By Emily Berry, Staff Writer

The Chattanooga Times Free Press

Chattanooga, TN - Medical ethics experts are questioning a proposal to implant medical identification microchips in the arms of developmentally disabled clients at Orange Grove Center.

"That's pretty disturbing and kind of surprising in that anyone would allow that to occur," said Dr. Stuart Finder, a director at the Center for Biomedical Ethics and Society at Vanderbilt University Medical Center.

"Typically, the idea of using vulnerable people -- children, disabled people, pregnant women, prisoners, a whole variety of categories -- we normally say that's not a good idea," Dr. Finder said.

Dr. Rick Rader, director of the Morton J. Kent Habilitation Center at Orange Grove Center, is advocating cooperation in a study with the maker of the VeriMed implantable device. He arranged meetings Thursday and today for one of the company's physicians with leaders at Orange Grove and Erlanger hospital.

Dr. Rader said VeriChip Corp., the Delray Beach, Fla., company that manufactures the device, has agreed to provide free implants for as many as 100 Orange Grove clients. The clients would be the subjects in the first group study of the application of the device, which normally costs $200, he said.

Dr. Rader and other Orange Grove medical committee members said they thought the implants were a good idea. They said they would have to proceed with care and discuss ethical questions that arise.

The VeriMed device works in much the same way as implantable identification tags for pets, Dr. Richard Seelig, VeriChip vice president for medical applications, said.

He said implantable devices have been used for millions of animals over the past 13 years. The implants for human beings were approved by the Federal Drug Administration in October 2004, he said.

Dr. Seelig told Erlanger and Orange Grove officials Thursday that the implants could keep disabled people safe in case they are lost or injured and cannot identify themselves to emergency workers or doctors.

"What we're trying to do is level the playing field," he said. "If you and I can give this information, why can't they?"

Carol Westlake, executive director of the Tennessee Disability Coalition, said the idea of implants is "troubling."

"The history of abuse of people with mental retardation requires us to be extraordinarily cautious that we don't let those things happen again," she said.

Ms. Westlake and Dr. Finder said it would be less problematic to do a group study of adults who are able to give unambiguous informed consent.

However, Dr. Rader said that not using the implants to benefit and protect the disabled would be a disservice to his clients, would deny their personhood and abridge their right to participate in society.

"The advocates would be on my case if we weren't doing this," he said.

Dr. Seelig said the plan would require participation of area medical facilities, whose personnel would require training to scan for the chips and find medical information once a patient's identification number is found.

He said VeriChip would provide equipment and training to hospitals and other medical facilities at no cost.

Dr. Seelig spoke to Erlanger physicians at the hospital Thursday morning, but none of the physicians there asked about potential ethical implications in using the microchips in vulnerable populations.

A meeting with the hospital's institutional review board scheduled for Thursday fell through when none of the members showed up, Erlanger spokeswoman Jan Powell said.

MSNBC.com; News - MSNBC.com; Chips Spark Ethics Concerns
Last Visited: 14 Nov 2005; Last Updated: 14 Nov 2005
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9919453/

* A Quote I Want to Share *

2005-11-11T00:11:00.000-05:00

"We should look long and hard, and never forget, what the inevitable outcome of contemporary secularism will produce: shallow, empty humanity, exterminating our young to preserve our shopping preferences."

Dr. Bob Finnerty
Intellectual Giants, Moral Midgets

Oh my yes ... and it's going to get a lot worse before we realize who our real enemy is. Would that we could see beyond our own selfish greed, and just what it is we're trading our lives (and theirs) for.

Bitching rights ...

2005-11-10T10:56:00.000-05:00

I voted this week. That gives me "bitching rights," right? The biggest problem with earning "bitching rights" is that there's so much to say that I have no idea where to begin bitching!

Here in Maine, the "gay rights" movement has been repeatedly stuffed up our noses, down our throats ... and into other orifices best left unmentioned.

Now, before I go any further, I need to state my own basic position where gays are concerned. What they do behind closed doors is their problem, not mine! I don't know what they do, I don't want to know what they do ... any more than I want to invite all of you into my own bedroom to experience what I do.

Also, there are people that I know and love dearly who are gay. I don't condemn them to their faces, and I don't condemn them in the silence of my heart. When they die, they will be face to face with their Creator - as we all will be. They will have to answer for everything they did - both good and bad. It will all be between them - and God. When I die, I'll go through the same thing. God left us each our free will for a reason.

Back to what I was saying. The gay rights law has been thrown at us so many times that I've lost count. Each time, the state has voted it down. The legislature took it upon itself to instate the law anyway - in spite of the people's consistent voting record. So this time, we were voting whether to repeal the law ...

... I may as well not have bothered going to the polls. I almost didn't. I wonder if that's why we lost ... so many of us felt that it wouldn't matter, they would just put it right back in again in spite of how we voted. It's a losing battle.

And you know, it doesn't matter who is going to be the happy recipient of a brand spanking shiny new "right," if it's gays, or the "Coalition of Women Who Prefer Cucumbers" ... or even a particular church denomination ... it doesn't matter. I would consistently vote the same.

Why? Because you can't give someone a special right without taking a natural right away from someone else!

If I want to rent out a spare bedroom, I no longer have the right to choose who's going to live in my house with me! It would matter not if I had 3 small boys or adolescents in my home, I could still be forced to rent to a homosexual.

And even more basically ... property rights. Oh my God! Property what??? ... I'd better save that one for another post. It's a story all its own.

You know, I'm not bigoted ... not even against bigots. *cough* But I'm concerned about what I see as our natural rights slowly being eroded all over the country. We've got special rights for every minority under the sun ... and for each of those rights, someone else has had to relinquish, on some level, the right to choose according to their own conscience, or even to verbally express their thoughts and beliefs.

The really sad thing is that this is supposed to be an enlightened age - an age where freedom of choice reigns supreme.

I'm free to murder an innocent unborn baby, who is only there to begin with because of a choice I made earlier, but I'm not free to decide whether or not I'll use a seat belt?

A criminal is free to break into my home, and then sue me if he busts his arse falling down my stairs ... but I'm not free to have a gun in here, and use it to protect myself from him?

A gay person is free to adopt a baby of the same sex ... and I'm not even free to order my family life in such a way that my sons aren't taught that the homosexual lifestyle is a valid alternative? ... or to decide when, and how, they will learn about topics that destroy the innocence of childhood?

And then, of course, our "freedom of religion" has become "freedom FROM religion" ... we can't even choose to display our faith publicly in the form of wishing people a Merry Christmas anymore.

Freedom of choice? Only if you choose to go along with the left. If you don't, then you're a bigot, homophobic, obstructionist, anal, a trouble maker, hopelessly outdated, anti-American, intolerant, and a danger to your own children.

And speaking of children ... how far will it go? Will they eventually march right into our homes and take away our children?

I home-schooled my kids for the last eight years of their education. The states make it as hard as possible for parents to educate their children at home. Home-schooled children are not "on tap" for the daily indoctrination ... the state has no control over what they're taught.

They protest that home-schooled children's education may not be "up to par" with their public-schooled peers. However, colleges all over the country are opening their doors to home-schoolers, because on an average, they're better prepared than their peers. It also doesn't hurt that they can think for themselves.

Of my own kids, today one of them is a chef, one is in his final year of studying to be a molecular biologist, and one, the mother of two very active little people, has gone back to college, and is maintaining a 4.0 average. I sincerely believe that, as the movement continues to grow, the government will continue to take yet stronger measures to slow it down - if not squash it completely.

I'm afraid. I'm terrified that I'm growing old and helpless, with a chronic illness that could become debilitating, in a society that is destructive of family, that has life track record that includes abortion and Terry Schiavo, and that has no respect for real freedom of choice.

If our forefathers could have foreseen ...

Shattered trust ...

2005-11-06T18:15:00.000-05:00

Today, a friend poured her heart out to me. She told me that she had undergone major surgery only two weeks earlier, and had the most terrifying experience.

What she related to me left me sick at heart, because it was one of those things that terrifies anyone who's ever been seriously ill, and had to rely on physicians for their very lives. Not only that - but to my absolute and most profound horror - the doctor she was talking about is a friend of mine.

I can't go into details, in case anyone who knows who I am ever comes to this blog. I'm friends with several doctors - but it would still be relatively easy to narrow down which one it is if I went into detail.

I'm an avid defender of physicians. They're expected to be perfect, to never make a mistake, to always be at their very best, to never overlook a single detail, to fill in all the blanks we deliberately don't let them in on, to treat us in spite of the fact that we often don't even follow the simplest of their directions. If they make a mistake - they end up being barred, humiliated, prevented from practicing their profession. They're never allowed to have family problems, headaches, belly aches, bad days ... or just be too tired to deal with anything. We expect them to be on tap for us 24/7. We forget - they are *people!* They are just people.

That said, I don't care what job a person has, whether they're surgeons, or pizza delivery boys - arrogance is never an option. There's never a reason for a physician to beat a patient over the head with medical arrogance. And if that arrogance includes a decision that could be life-threatening to a patient, then it borders on criminal.

The person involved in this is a man that I've held in deep respect since the day I met him. I've always considered him to be a spiritual, gentle person. I've been friends with his mother, and even roomed with her on a trip we took together.

To say the least, the information took my breath away - and left me feeling disillusioned, disappointed ... and frightened. It frightened me that only this week, I wrote that although I only knew him as a friend, that I would trust this man with my life as a doctor.

Ah Lord ... to remember that we all just people. Each and every one of us.

____________________________________

Nov. 7, 2005 - Monday

Today, I spoke with another friend who is a physician. I told him about the above situation, and asked him for his professional opinion. This is what he told me:

The physician was in the right with his decisions, if not with his manner of expressing them. At no time was my friend in any danger. It appears that it was a case of serious miscommunication ... and perhaps even a bit of hysteria. It still doesn't excuse my physician friend from having let things get so badly out of hand ...

My other physician friend said that he would dearly love to have heard the conversation to see how it all happened - so would I.

I still won't be able to put this completely to rest ... but at least my heart is more peaceful when I consider the information.

____________________________________

Nov. 8, 2005 - Tuesday

As a cap to this blog entry, I'd like to post the following link, and encougage everyone to read it. This was posted by a physician, a surgeon ... and it touched me very deeply. Although I already see my own physicians as people first, and doctors second, this has helped translate the concept from the realm of knowledge to the realm of realization.

Dr. Bob: That Terrible Power

Where to begin ...

2005-11-01T09:38:00.000-05:00

Yes, I'm sorry. I know I've been neglectful. The merry-go-round never slowed down - never gave me the chance to get off, to catch my breath.

There's just so much to tell that I'm going to have to satisfy myself with just touching upon the basics - and moving on. If time allows, I can expand on particular points later.

My last post has me facing my 3rd cancer scare in less than two years, the marriage of my youngest son ... the death of my "last Daddy."

A bit of the worst of times - and a bit of the best.

Happy stuff first. Son and daughter-in-law are now happily married, and living a bit futher north, on a university campus. He's in his last year of studying to be a molecular biologist, and she's in her first year of stretching her little wings. I love the two of them so much that I actually get a sharp twang just under my ribs when I think about them. Have a blessed life, you two. Make me lots of grandbabies. Keep snuggling and bickering ... teasing and laughing ... it's all so damn short ...

Pop is gone, but he's still really with us. My mother-in-law and I have begun "banging around" together - an improbable pair! We've discovered - after 27 years of knowing each other - that we have a lot in common. Sitting at Pop's bedside every day with her has allowed me to see her with completely new eyes. Thank God. Now I'm just sorry that I didn't recognize her as a friend many many years ago.

The latest cancer scare - panned out. The entire scene has left me so disturbed inside that I've stopped seeing all of the doctors - well, all but one. I'm still seeing the nephrologist every four months. I know I'm asking for trouble, but I have a feeling that trouble is going to happen anyway. I'm taking this time to assess what I think of medicine - the way it is today, compared to the way it was 30 years ago. I can see some areas that are going to get a lot worse before they improve - and I don't think they're going to be obvious to the casual observer - or to those in the profession itself. More on that later.

Sometime in June, in a decision that surely came from desperation, I made a life altering decision. I decided to go back to college. Things fell into place so quickly, that I barely had the time to brace for impact. So - here I am - a 53 year old grandmother - trying to fill my old brain full of new information. ( And I can't even remember if I took my pills ... O.o )

I'm starting out with Health Information Technology, with the intention of moving on to Medical Informatics - as soon as I get up the courage to leave home, and study in a classroom, rather than over the internet. I'm exhilarated ... I'm terrified. The first session is already over, and I'm amazed that I emerged from it with a 4.0. (My old teachers would be too, God rest them.) I don't know if the online environment is just easier for me, or if I've actually grown smarter with age. Not likely. More experienced ... more given to introspection ... maybe wiser ... but not smarter. Maybe it was just the courses: Critical Thinking and Medical Terminology.

And now ... on to the classroom perched on my lap. Perhaps I'll get around to writing a bit more on this now. I've got plenty to say - but it's so much work to organize it all into something coherent as it claws its way out of me ...

... and really, does it matter anyway?

Until next time ...

Drowning ....

2005-06-03T23:50:00.000-04:00

So much has happened since my last entry. I don't know where to begin ...

First of all, my father-in-law did pass away after all. It wasn't necessary ... and it should not have happened. I've told my own family that I do *not* want to be put on Hospice - no matter what condition I'm in. I couldn't believe what happened to him ... I still can't.

In my last post, I mentioned that he was no longer in imminent danger of dying. The pneumonia cleared up thanks to the use of strong antibiotics, and he was no longer coughing and rattling anymore. He appeared seriously confused though, and was even having hallucinations. This was a great concern for me, because I couldn't understand why it would be happening at all.

As I watched him day by day, I began to think that the medications they were giving him were causing the problem. One night, after he had spent the day so drugged up that we had been unable to keep him hydrated or fed, he began to wake up a bit, and was confused and agitated as he came to. The nurse came in and immediately said she would give him something to calm him down. Something went "click" in my mind, and I told her not to give him anything, that I thought he was agitated because of the medications they were giving him. With a superior attitude, she informed me that it wasn't possible - he had been given the medication during the night, and that since it was now evening, it couldn't still be the medication causing it. She even stood there, right at his bedside, and gave me a lecture on the "dying process." Imagine what my poor Father-in-Law must have felt like, listening to her talk about his death. Talk about medical arrogance. However, she did respect my wishes - if not myself and Pop.

Well - what do you know! The next day, he was up in a chair, sitting in the hallway, and just as cantankerous as he could be! In fact, since he'd always been a very laid back, pleasant fellow, this was quite an eye opener! Pop wanted to go home ... and if he couldn't go home, he wanted to know why! As I verbally sparred with him, I was rejoicing inside because I could see that he was definitely "back" with us again.

I did some research that night on the medication he'd been given, and discovered that it (Ativan) often caused the elderly, or very ill, to react as if they've been given much higher dosages than they had, and it also could last far longer than normally expected for a theraputic dose. Also - it was capable of causing all of the side effects we'd noticed in Pop.

Over the next several days, he continued to improve, even asking the nurses to walk him to the bathroom. Although he didn't feel like eating ... (he had been difficult to feed for years, but had apparently been eating enough to keep himself alive, although we were always concerned about his diet) ... he would eat everything he was given when told that he needed to get his strength back if he wanted to come home. He himself acknowledged that the most difficult part of going back home would be getting himself in and out of the bathroom.

We began to make plans to take him home. However, I began to worry. He had been placed on hospice when we thought he was dying ... because his doctor was too stupid to know the difference between a dying man and a man who was under the influence of Ativan. The attitude of the nurses in the rehab was not at all condusive to getting Pop back on his feet. They were quite willing to "Ativan" him to death. I was concerned that we would not be able to get the people in physical therapy to help us get him walking with a walker, because of his being on hospice. It mattered not that he was improving, clear minded, and that he was no longer dying. Listen, if you are a viable person who's mistakenly been placed on hospice because of a doctor's error, I guarantee, even if you obviously begin to recover, you're going to die anyway .... they'll see to it. At least, that's what happened with Pop.

He improved daily, and things were going so well, until the day he came down with the runs. I had been going back and forth every day to be with him, and a few weeks before, my husband had been sick with them for about 3 days. I had had a very brief problem myself - less than a full day - and on the same morning that Pop got the runs, my mother-in-law had also had them. Of course, when I went in to see him, I was told that he had the runs because his "body was shutting down." Well ... no .... he had the runs because he *caught* them from us. This is just one example of the obstructionism we were facing in trying to keep Pop alive after he was placed on hospice. To them, every little thing that happened was part of his "death process."

I told my mother-in-law and sister-in-law that he needed to be taken off from hospice, or they weren't going to treat him for his runs. I'm not sure why they didn't act immediately. I don't think they understood how much of an obstacle to Pop's recovery the nurses' attitudes had become.

Pop got worse quickly ... and I mentioned to my mother-in-law that he was acting as if they were giving him Ativan again ... but as sick as he'd been, I couldn't imagine why they would do that. He certainly wasn't trying to get out of bed on his own anymore ever since they'd stopped giving it to him before. Also, I'd raised such a stink about it ... I couldn't beleive they'd give it to him again. I should have demanded to know. I was hesitant because I was already in serious disfavor there, and I simply couldn't believe they would actually give it to him in his condition ... I wish now that I had had the gumption to ask.

I found out a day and a half before he died that they had, indeed, been drugging him with Ativan. We hadn't been sure if his state had been due to the virus ... and it had been impossible to get anyone to give him anything to stop the runs.

Once I found out that he'd been given the Ativan again, I lost my temper as I stood at the nurses' station. It's not that I didn't want him to be given whatever medicine he needed - it's that I didn't want him to be given anything that would worsen his condition, or make him unable to be hydrated - or fed. You don't give someone in renal failure a nephrotoxic medicine unless there's absolutely NOTHING ELSE you can give them. You don't give ANYone ANYthing that prevents them from being hydrated even if you DO think they're not going to recover. You simply do *not* make things worse - or hurry them along. This would be criminal under any circumstance, and beyond unconscionable with someone who's viable. Food, water ... those are not "extraordinary measures" ... those are standard care for the comfort of those who are dying - or even those who are well!

That day, the hospice nurse dropped in. She and I went into the hallway, and were talking. This was *before* I found out about Pop being given Ativan again. I sincerely believed that he felt really sick from the virus, and that he had given up or come to some sort of decision on his own. As we talked, I mentioned that I could smell and see that his kidneys were shutting down, and that it would only be a matter of days before we lost him. We had left the room to talk so that he wouldn't overhear what we were saying ... although he seemed pretty out of it at the time.

To my horror, when I walked back into the room after that conversation, his eyes were open and he watched me walk back in. I could see from the look on his face that he had, indeed, overheard the conversation. With my heart in my throat, I went up to him and told him that I wanted him to start eating and drinking - NOW! I nearly cried when he told me that he was trying to, and had asked for bread (toast) a few days back, but no one had brought it to him. If that had really happened ... it sure wasn't on *my* watch. But the poor dear heart ate and drank everything he was offered for the rest of the day ... and was uncharacteristically meek and quiet. Pop had overheard me ... and he didn't want to die.

The next day, he was very very bad. We were no longer able to rouse him, and it was difficult to keep his mouth from drying out. I kept dipping those little lollipop-looking sponges, and doing the inside of his mouth, and between his teeth and lips, hoping to keep him comfortable. We went home that night at about 8 PM, as usual. We got a call from my sister-in-law near midnight - he had taken a turn for the worse.

I got dressed and rushed back to the rehab. Shortly afterward, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, Kay, came, as did Kay's husband, Eddie. We sat in vigil with him all night. At about 4 AM, I drove Eddie to his house so that he could get some rest and make phone calls, and I stopped at home and woke up my family to tell them that they should not wait too long after daylight to come to the rehab. I felt that he would live until the sun came up ... but not much longer. My husband showed up just a bit later, and then Gary, my brother-in-law, also showed up, just before dawn.

Pop's breathing slowed to about 12 breaths a minute ... and it became difficult to tell if he breathing any more. I got up and put my hand on his chest at the base of his left rib cage, and I could feel his heart against my fingers ... beating very feebly. I knew that we were in the final moments, and as I turned to go back to my seat, I mouthed silently for my mother-in-law that it wouldn't be much longer. I sat down, and almost immediately got back up again, because I realized that I was completely unable to gauge what was happening from the foot of the bed. I placed my hand on his chest again, and this time, I couldn't feel anything any longer.

He was gone. My last Daddy was gone.

I'm going to post this because it's been sitting in draft form for such a long time (a month,) but I'm going to keep coming back to it for a while and adding the details I've missed. There are things that happened before my father in law died that need telling. Also - I haven't even mentioned that during this time, I had a cancer scare ... and my youngest son got married. Yes, I have a lot more to add ...

Another day, another crisis ...

2005-04-08T11:50:00.000-04:00

My father in law appears to no longer be in imminent danger of dying, but he is very weak, and often confused. He's not eating, and it's very difficult to get him to drink anything. I'm still spending each day with my mother-in-law, at his bedside, trying to keep him hydrated, and get some nourishment into him. I don't know what tomorrow will bring for him ... but I want to try to be there as much as I can and help see him through it.

Yesterday, I kept an appointment with a specialist that was set up for me by my primary care doctor. It looks as if I may be about to set foot on yet a new adventure ... or perhaps I should say: misadventure.

Apparently, a mass of over 6 cm was found during an ultrasound I was given last week. It's not what they were looking for ... and it's taken me by surprise. They were actually looking for a renal blockage of some sort ... but ... let me backtrack a bit ...

In the fall of 2003, I went to see my first doctor in about 16 years. Well, that's not entirely true, since I *did* see one doctor during that time, but you get the idea. I'm not comfortable in the doctor/patient venue ... in fact, I'm fairly certain that you could call what I go through when I have to see a doctor a "panic disorder." I don't "hate doctors," as my PCP believes (and freely tells everyone he sends me to) ... I just completely tweak out when I have to deal with them for myself.

At any rate, after suffering with a sinus infection since Jan. of 2000 and a bladder infection since June 2003, I gave in and made an appointment to see a local doctor in October of 2003. I really did think that I would be able to march into there, get some antibiotics for my problems, and vanish - as I'd always done before. Well, God had other plans.

The nurse checked my weight (embarrassingly plump at the time) and my blood pressure - and stopped. She asked if my blood pressure was always high, and I told her that it was only high when I had to see doctors. She informed me that it was 240 over something ridiculous, and that she would give me a few minutes calm down, and then come back in and take it again.

Well, having a background in nursing didn't help me much then - since I realized quite clearly just how high that was. The anxiety of the moment drove it even higher, and by the time she returned, it was 280 over something crazy.

Well, that didn't leave a lot of room for discussing my poor painful bladder infection at my first meeting with the doctor - who ended up becoming my primary care physician. This fellow wanted me to go straight to the hospital. I dug my heels in. We finally compromised: he would give me something for my infections and an HTN medication, which I would take that day. I would return to his office the next day and have my blood pressure checked again, and would agree to do so as long as it took to get it down to a safe level.

He scared me badly enough that I did return the next day, as promised. I think it was when he said "Look, you can walk out of here if you want, and I can't stop you, but I won't be responsible if you drop dead when you do."

The blood pressure was still high - very high - and that time he convinced me to go to the hospital. Snared. Once they've got you ...

I was in the hospital for nearly a week as they tried to get my blood pressure down to something viable. That was when I met my nephrologist, and was told that I had chronic kidney failure on top of the severe hypertension.

Life since then has been a three ring circus - with me as the buffoon. Over the last year and a half, I've had 3 ureteral stents, major surgery at the Lahey Clinic in MA to take care of a renal blockage, an endometrial ablation, and any number of ct scans, ultrasounds, and misc lab work. I had to learn to give myself injections. I've also had 4 (maybe 5, now) little TIA's, where I lost my vision and was afraid to end up losing quite a bit more than that. If I were to toss in the extra little stuff - the pernio, the neuroma ... etc ... it would round out the full picture quite well.

I feel as if I'm precariously balanced at the edge of a precipice ... and my feet are going numb. My PCP actually told me, while discussing the only TIA I actually told him about: "You know, a large one of those (veins, arteries in my brain) lets go and you'll be gone before you hit the floor." Yah Doc, thankee. Good to know.

Anyway, after my surgery at the Lahey Clinic last September, my kidney function seemed to improve quite a bit, and my nephrologist stopped mentioning kidney donors and waiting lists. I'm still in kidney failure, but my numbers have improved. My BP is mostly controlled. Also, some very severe bleeding was taken care of at the end of September by a local gyn, and I was just starting to see some daylight. My hematologist at Lahey had actually told me that my numbers were better than his!

And now ... this. A "something" has appeared uninvited in my gutt ... something of over 6 cm. It apparently grew there since September. I can just picture the little bugger now ... just waiting for the last stitch to go in before hollering to his buddies: "Ok! Let's GO! We've got a lot of work to do!" And work they did! More than 6 cm in 6 months!

Well, next week I go see my hematologist, and the week after I have another ultrasound to try to peg down that new little bugger. Guess I'll know more after that.

And now ... need to start my day, and get out to see my father-in-law.

Laters ...

Lost One of my Daddies ...

2005-04-04T00:50:00.000-04:00

The Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, died yesterday at 2:37 eastern time. At the time, I was at my father-in-law's bedside, and I had to hold my feelings in. By the time I got home, I was emotionally drained

I still can't believe he's gone. Nearly half of my life - he's been the Holy Father. In last decade, I've grown to love him in such a personal way, and really feel as if I know him. I'm going to mourn him for a very long time.

Pop seems to be rallying a bit, and I'm afraid that he will begin to sink again without warning. It hurts so much to see him like that. He's always been so sweet and funny - tough - dependable. My ally ... sometimes my only ally. I would trade places with him, if I could.

Tomorrow, I will go to the hospital to do my "standing order" lab work, and then head back out to the rehab to be with Pop. I don't want Althea to be there by herself. She looks so tired.

I will fill out some of the details of my life when I'm not so emotionally exhausted and distraught.

Good night, blog-land.

Losing Two Daddies - again

2005-04-02T12:14:00.000-05:00

Never in my life did I think I would resort to blogs. I have a very public web site, and I even have a journal online - however, that journal is for the "public" ... it's streamed and edited and carefully planned out. It tells about where I've been and what I'm doing - but nothing much about who I am, and how I'm feeling.

I guess - the "who I am, and how I'm feeling" ... well, even my family isn't much tuned into that. One of my sons is very astute, and often listens to his mom rant and rave ... I consider him my best friend, at moment. But, I know that he needs to get out of my house, and start a life of his own - pronto. When he leaves, I will be alone. No, I'm not a widow, and I don't live alone. You can live with a hundred people, and still be very alone.

There is no one for me to "turn to" with the things that are heavy on my heart, although, I certainly do have any number of casual friends who would be willing to "listen" to me. I also have a few close friends who would probably be willing to "listen" to me. I'm just very seriously not drawn to "speaking" to anyone ... I honestly can NOT imagine myself doing that.

And so ... this anonymous blog ... this place to pour my heart into ... where no one knows me, and no one will be able to judge me.

And now - today's big burden, and the reason for the name of my blog ...

Eighteen years ago, my dear, beloved Dad died suddenly after suffering a massive stroke. He died a week after my dear friend's father died, and two weeks before another dear father figure was taken away from us, and imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit ... (and yes, I know he didn't commit it, since I was there.) I have never gotten over the loss of my father. I'm sure there will be more on that later ... but that's all I have the time for today concerning that particular part of my life.

Last night, I spent the night on the sofa - with the television on Fox News all night long. I've spent every free moment I've had for the last week or more with my father in law, who was put on hospice the night before last. He's not expected to live more than a day. He's been my Daddy since I lost my own Daddy 18 years ago ... my Daddy and my ally. I can't let go ... I just can't see him leaving us. I'm not ready to lose him. And neither am I ready for what I'm watching on Fox ... as I write, the Holy Father is also expected to live less than a day. I'm surrounded by death, and it seems as if my last two "Daddies" are in a race to leave me alone. The Holy Papa will leave a huge spiritual and temporal void in my life, and my dear Father in Law will leave a immense empty in everything I am.

No more Daddies after this coming loss ... they'll be all gone.

Moofles