Yesterday I decided to start Spring cleaning. At my home that means rearranging every thing in most of the house. After a long almost non existent winter, I needed a change. It doesn't take much to brighten a room. I usually hang new photos on a couple of walls. Perhaps a change of curtains, or a new splash of paint here and a dab of paint there, accompanied by a million other small things to give our home a pick me up after a long gray winter. This is a ritual I have done since the first year of our marriage. Why it comes as a surprise to Tommy I will never know, but it does every year. This year it is more of a surprise because I really need his help in every area. He is more than willing to help me and for that I am delighted. However, he has his own way of doing things and ideas where things should be placed. He lives here so that is only fair, until he changes my plan. For 47 years I have, as a rule, placed things where I wanted them. I think my record is about to be broken this year. It was also broken once about forty years ago.
Back then I always did my rearranging while Tommy was at work. It did not make him any difference what I did as long as I was happy with the finished project. Wherever we lived we had a cute apartment, duplex or home always a mixture of a few new things and many, many found treasures.
Finally, we settled down. We bought a home. He no longer worked day shift. Now he was working 3-11 at the Nuclear Plant. I decided to do my rearranging while Tommy was at work. When I finished rearranging our living room I turned out the lights except for the one in the bathroom and went to bed. He did not know that I had rearranged everything. Nor could he see that I had moved the love seat against the north wall and was using it as a room divider. It was right in his path he usually took to get to the rest of the house when he came home at night. I forgot to leave him a note in the kitchen. All was fine until he got home and fell over the love seat as he tried to go to bed. He simply moved the love seat back to where it was located originally. He quietly came to bed and did not say anything.
When I woke up at 5 a.m. I was shocked to see the love seat moved. I moved it back to where I wanted it. It made our living room look cozy. The girls woke up and could have cared less where the love seat was placed. They caught the bus and went to school. About noon Tommy woke up. We drank coffee and talked about everything but the love seat. I was waiting for him to say something. He was waiting to see what I was going to say about the whole ordeal. Neither of us mentioned the love seat. When he got home from work that night, he didn't fall over the couch but he did slide it back against the wall. This went on for 3 days until I asked him why he didn't like the 'new look'. His only reply was, " I just don't like it. It is in my way." However, not to be out done, I did find a set of shelves that worked as a room divider. We compromised and life was fine until forty years later when I needed his help hanging pictures. . . a lot of pictures.
Now I must be fair to Tommy on this matter. He wants 'things' done the right way, as a rule. Me??? I want the end project to look right but I am not as 'particular' about how I reach the end. To me the bigger the nail the easier it is hang. When I rearrange the photos later, I just find something that will cover the nail holes. Tommy found this appalling. When we stripped the walls of photos and he saw what our walls looked like he said and I quote, 'it looks more like a dart board than sheet rock". I can live with a 'dart board' as long as no one else can see where the 'darts' are located.
And so it began. We pulled out nails, puttied holes, sanded, and then painted. All I wanted to do was hang photos of the people we love and the places we have been. I have to admit, it does look nice and it only took three days to do a one day project. However, everything is level, no little holes show. We are retired and time does not matter to us. So I would say it is a success. Next we are moving furniture and I can not do a lot in that area. I know what I want and Tommy told me yesterday, "Not to worry, he has a plan." I cringed just a little on the inside. I looked at the walls and said, "Great!!! So do I!!! And so the adventure begins again.
The photo to the left is my favorite picture of Mama and Daddy. Mama is in a nursing home because she has Alzheimer's. Daddy was wonderful to Mama when she was sick, and I will leave our story right there.
The blog I am writing today has to do with this photo. It is the absolute truth and has two families completely baffled.
Monday Tommy and I went to town to run errands, pay a bill and I needed to enlarge a few photos for framing. The above photo was one to be enlarged. As usual, I needed help in this area. The young lady who helped us had the patience of a saint and the best sense of humor. She made our hour long excursion a pleasure. We laughed and talked as I messed up things and she fixed them. Finally, she took over and did it herself.
When she enlarged the above photo, she looked at it for a long time.I told her the story about the photo and then I placed it in the pile of photos we were accumulating. After we made a few more reproductions, the young woman asked if she could see the photo of my parents again. I gave it to her. I watched her face while she studied the photo. Finally she said, "You are not going to believe this, but we have this exact photo laying on our mantel. No one knows these people or how we got the photo. Since we do genealogy we left it out in hopes someday we would find out where the picture came from and why we have it."
I was shocked to say the least. We talked and traded information. She called her mother and asked her questions. We still do not have the connection. A few minutes later we enlarged a photo of Mama and Daddy, probably taken after he came home from the war. She took the photo and said, "That's the man. I have seen photos of him before."
I gave her as much information as I could on the spur of the moment. There is a span of fifty years between those two photos. I gave her copies of them. Maybe she is the key to a large part of my past. Most people know their life story. I don't. I have bits and pieces and at times chunks of my life. It just does not all gel together. There a big hole and I would love to know the true story.
I know I have a half brother somewhere. I want and need to meet him. I am not sure how the meeting would go. I long for the chance to see. I would love to know if I have any nieces or nephews. Who knows one of them may be left handed, have curly hair and green eyes. I would be delighted. They would all be grown and have children of their own. Oh the possibilities,if I only knew the whole story. I would like for him to meet my children and husband. I would like to know if he is anything like Daddy. I know I am.
I am taking a DNA test next week. It is supposed to be able to tell if I have any half siblings. Believe it or not, that is what I want for my birthday. It is in April and the results should be back by then.
Closure that is what I want. The truth and closure. And if I find more family to love that would be wonderful.
This winter several wild animals started using our garage as a restaurant and a hotel. The birds use it for a toilet. We spotted a huge calico cat, who wanders in and out of our garage as she pleases as long as our dog Sabella is in the house, which is most of the time. She no longer considers herself to be a German Shepherd. She is part of our family who is not allowed to eat at the table, or be counted as a tax deduction.
However, Sabella is the reason we need the live trap. She hates cats and possums, we have to rid the garage of them before Sabella kills them. All winter we tried to catch the cat before she has kittens in our garage. I love cats and I have been through this before. It is not pretty. With this thought in mind, we decided to get a live trap and catch the unwanted company. We would take the captive miles away from our home. The possum could go free. The cat goes to an animal shelter. That is win-win for everyone except Sabella, who has no say in the matter.
Several times a month, I take a bag and pick up bones scattered around the yard. In the mix are deer bones and God knows what else. Sabella in her ramblings and guard duties finds the deer bone yard and brings it back, one piece at a time, to munch on through out the winter. Yesterday I threw away a deer jaw bone and a set of teeth. I doubt if I would ever find this story in, "Tales of the Rich and Famous".
When I fed Sabella yesterday, sure enough there was a possum in the live trap. Finally!! I hurry back in the house to tell Tommy what had happened. In a mad dash, we get ready. We put the possum in the back of the truck and off we go to liberate our captive who hates our guts. The sounds and looks that possum gave us were mean and nasty.
As we are driving along the back roads, I noticed all the planes that were in the air. They crisscrossed the heavens in every direction. 'Something Shiny' moved in to take up residence in my mind's eye. For a little while, as we drove the possum was gone and the trails airplane's left were on my mind. I wondered where the destinations would be for the passengers. I hoped they arrived safely. It was a beautiful day to drive the back roads and get lost in thought. I did that very thing, with a possum in tow.
Eventually we reach our destination and let the possum go. He was out of that cage and gone before I uttered the words, "Crap he stinks!!!" He didn't even look to the left to see the water. I am sure he will find it later.
With that done, we decide to cash in my lottery ticket. I won a $100 on Valentine's Day. That was pure bliss and also half of my futon that finally arrived at the right store. It doesn't take much to make me happy! It was a good day. Sort of a mix bag of oats kind of day. Nothing really blended in, we went from one thing to the other and then found our way back home. The possum was gone, and so was the hundred dollars. It was a good day in my corner of the world.
As for Sabella well, she is back on duty. I haven't seen the calico cat but a beautiful gray and white cat sauntered down our driveway as Sabella was eating. The cat saw Sabella and turned to slip down the right side of the garage and made a run for freedom. Sabella continued to eat and never knew anything was going on. That's my girl!
Last Sunday was Super Bowl Sunday. Tommy and I decided we would watch the game, eat pizza and celebrate the day along with over 140 million other people, give or take a few million.
I am a Bronco's and a Chief's fan. Tommy likes Tampa Bay and Green Bay so we really didn't have a team in this game. I had watched the Falcons play in the playoffs and I was pretty sure they would beat the Patriots. They were fast and hungry for the win. The Patriots had won four Super Bowl games and I thought it was time for some new blood in the trophy room. We picked our teams, just like we pick our horses in the Kentucky Derby, and we were ready for the game to begin. I picked Atlanta and Tommy went with the Patriots. The popcorn was dished up and we were ready to be entertained. The pizza and beer was waiting in the kitchen.
From the first kick off, the Falcons were playing their A-Game. Tom Brady was sacked three times. I almost switched teams because I hated to see Brady get pounded. Everything went wrong. If he threw long, it was intercepted. He was completely taken out of his game. Tommy and I could not believe what we were watching. Then came half time. The Falcon's led 21-3. We were speechless. Lady Gaga's performance was great. The crowd roared in appreciation. We liked most of the new commercials. In fact, we were enjoying ourselves. We were reliving the first half and second guessing all the bad and good plays.
About this time my new knees started in on what I call the "walkies". Starting between 6:30 and 8:30 p.m. my knees are ready to go to bed. They can not be still. They need to walk, stretch and lay down. Once in bed, it takes thirty minutes for them to find a place that does not ache. It does not matter what the rest of my body wants to do. For the time being these two are calling the shots. I have started taking a sleeping pill as soon as the 'walkies' show up. About thirty minutes after
I take the pill I am ready to go to bed. I took it as the third quarter started.
The Falcon's were 28-3 with under three minutes left in the third quarter. My eye lids got heavy. I decided to go to bed. After all who comes back to win a Super Bowl game when they are down by 21 points going into the fourth quarter? As far as I was concerned the sleeping pill won and so did the Falcons and we went to bed.
The next morning I made coffee and turned on the news to see the final score. Imagine my surprise when I find out the final score was 34-28 and the Patriots had won!!! I was beside myself with flabbergasted unbelief. I yelled for Tommy. He was as surprised as I was. His team won!!
Without a doubt we missed the best fourth quarter in the the history of football. Oh we watched it as it was replayed over and over the next day. But nothing takes the place of seeing it as history is being made. The Patriot's won and it was amazing. Tom Brady marched through Atalanta much like Sherman did 152 years ago when he made his march through Atlanta. He was on fire and Brady lit that stadium up!! While I slept thinking Atlanta had won. Hmmmm.....
When I had a double knee replacement I had several rough days. However, not everything that happened in the hospital was a bad memory by any means. I had a supportive family and friends who were there regardless of the weather or obligations.
One of my best friends, Becky Doerflinger, came to visit me twice while I was in the hospital. The second time Becky visited was two days after my drug allergic psychosis. I was better by then but not 100%. Becky knew nothing about what had happened and that was the way I wanted it.
Becky and I met at the mental hospital where we both worked back in 1999. We hit it off immediately. We both shared a love of art, writing, and a great sense of humor. In my opinion, Becky could have easily walked off the page of a Charlotte Bronte novel or poem. She is a person blessed with an 'old soul'. She can transport people to other times and places with the whim of a good idea. I think that is a rare quality few people have. Those who have it and share their uniqueness with others are blessed in a thousand different ways. Becky's old soul has made my life better many times.
Since we both worked 11-7 shift and had different days off; it was not unusual for Becky to call me at 1:30 a.m. and want to know if I would like to come out to her house for a tea party on my 2 a.m. break.
Becky reintroduced me to tea parties as an adult. She also helped bring back the magic I enjoyed as a little girl when I created fairy gardens all over my grandmother's back yard and had tea parties of my own with the faeries. I always jumped at the chance to spend my break at Becky's house. It was a great stress reliever. Each party was different. Never once did we have two parties with the same theme. My favorite party was held outside her home in her flower garden. It was early summer. She had lights scattered all over her beautiful yard. The smell of roses, lilacs, peonies, and flowers I never knew the names filled the air with a rich aroma of Mother Nature. There was a full moon and the added light was the perfect touch. A full moon in a mental hospital is usually anything but 'perfect'. More fights happen during a full moon than at any other time. Everyone is restless, including the staff. To be able to walk into another environment was wonderful and a great escape. I could feel the anxiety leave as I walked toward the garden.
Becky had a table set with a white lace tablecloth covering it from one end to the other. Candles were scattered among the dishes on the table. The teapot was sitting close to where Becky would serve. Small sandwiches and little cakes nestled in the midst of tea cups, plates and napkins. Everything was delicious and it was such fun to laugh and talk about things that did not matter. Usually she had a radio playing. I could stay about forty minutes. That forty minutes changed my night. I would return to work in a better mood and with a touch of magic on my shoulder. When you work in a mental hospital for the criminally insane, a touch of magic on the shoulder is always a plus.
While I was in the hospital recently, Becky came in one night pushing a cart filled with glass cups,china plates, knives, forks and the most beautiful teapot I had ever seen. She was laughing and so happy. I was scared crazy. I still thought I was on a locked ward and everything Becky had with her was against the rules. We were in deep dodo!! While I was glad to see her, I kept asking her if she had permission to do this. She assured me everything was fine. I kept having flashbacks when the ward resembled the "Killing Fields" a few days ago.
Becky poured the tea and I picked up a beautiful Christmas cookie. I had no appetite. Looking at food made me sick to my stomach. I drank the tea but did not touch the cookie. That in itself tells how sick I was because I never pass on a pretty cookie!
I kept questioning Becky about the china and knives. I knew we were about to be locked in seclusion if a nurse walked in. Finally I told Becky what had happened. She was surprised to hear what I had to say but she understood completely. She had seen it before. We had a good long talk and then she gave me the teapot. In a few months she will be moving to California and she wanted me to have it. It has a special place in my mother's china cabinet. Maybe some day I can have a tea party for my grandchildren.
All summer and fall I read everything I could get my hands on concerning my soon to be bilateral knee replacement surgery. I was sure there was nothing left to chance and I was as prepared as anyone could be for the operation. It was scheduled for Wednesday Dec.14,2016. I was sooo wrong.
Luckily, I was the first patient on the docket and for the next four days I knew nothing. Tommy and Tami said I woke up some and talked to them but I do not remember anything.
On the fifth day I was discharged to a rehab center. I vaguely remember the ride over and entering the facility. I had been taking a large amount of drugs to keep the pain at bay. Somewhere in those five days, the medicine became too strong for me and I began to hallucinate. I could no longer tell what was real and what was not. I didn't tell anyone because I did not know what was going on. Hallucinations became my new normal.
Tommy stayed with me during the day. Tami was in and out all the time. I trusted them but wouldn't tell them anything. I was afraid someone would hear what I was saying. I had no plan and could not stay awake long enough to make a plan. I swore the staff was not feeding me. Later I found out they were, I just refused to eat.
My room was across from the nurses station so I could hear everything that was NOT being said. I knew they had a hidden intercom in my room. I could hear it click off and on.They were listening to me. That was when I became quite and covered my head under my blankets. I needed to be invisible. Eventually, I cracked my door open, or thought I did, and saw an entire new staff working. I have a vivid picture of each person that 'worked' that night and none of them existed. I remember their voices, their laughs and yet not one person existed except in my mind. I heard the screams as people were beaten and raped. I heard the man next door beg for his life. I also heard when he died.
At 4 a.m. I called Tommy at home and asked him to come get me. He was awake and answered on the second ring. He said he felt all night something was wrong with me. He begged me to tell him what was going on. I said I would tell him when he got here and then mentioned people had been murdered and raped and he needed to be careful once he arrived. He was speechless. The ice covered roads were horrible and it took him twice as long to get to the hospital. I heard staff talking about the dead bodies. One man said there were at least two. The nurse said,"Don't worry, I will take care of everything."
Eventually the night ended. The sun began to rise and shine through my bedroom window. For the first time all night, I thought I would live.
When the charge nurse and Tommy walked through my door I literally crawled up Tommy. He held me so tight and just let me cry. He wanted to know what had happened to me. I was whispering in his ear that I couldn't talk while the nurse was in the room with us. "She was one of them!"
The nurse kept trying to find out what was going on. Apparently, during the night I also called someone and told them I wanted to be discharged in the morning. I have no clue if this is true or not. Anyway, I kept Tommy between me and the nurse and refused to say anything. We looked like we were playing an awkward game of 'Ring around the Roses' or 'Keep Away.'
Finally the nurse left to call the doctor and they decided to cut my medication in half. I would only take it on a PRN basis. The less medication I took, the clearer my mind became. However, my hallucinations seemed so real. Most of what happened I can't remember in detail but it is still in there somewhere; like a shadow, close but just out of reach; dark and out of proportion.
I talked to several people about what happened to me and about how real it felt, even though I knew it was the medication -it felt real. I saw the people and I heard the voices. Nurses talked to me and explained that not everyone can take the same medication. What happened to me is fairly common. The patient just has to ride the trip out. It took me about three days for the medication to leave my system. Slowly, I began to piece some of my hallucinations and reality into a viable answer. The 'poolroom' and nightly drug deals turned out to be aides stacking chairs for the next morning. I wasn't hearing a break in the balls on the nonexistent pool table as fights broke out over drugs. Things returned to normal in my mind.
I worked with the criminally insane for over twenty years. I sat with patients who were terrified of the demons who lunged at them in the dark. The staff took care of each and every patient as best we could. Their demons were real to them and no amount of medication could make them leave. At times it would let them sleep but when they woke up they were back in the same mess.I have a new empathy for these unfortunate people. It would be horrible to loose permanent touch with reality. Some patients recovered enough to return to the community, others will never leave their walled environment.
I remember when I worked at the hospital, I always was checking to make sure I had my keys. That is also one of the things I kept doing while I was hallucinating, I kept trying to find my keys. I had no pockets and was not on a locked ward. But in my mind I was. I was in rehab for knee surgery. So were most people in my section of the center. Thank God for that.
I made it home for Christmas Eve. I am doing great. I continue to go to physical therapy at a closer facility. I can walk on my own and am healing nicely. Thank you all for the cards, flowers and prayers.
Today is one of those days when I wish I had a different personality. I wish I was one of those laid back people who can actually make themselves not think or worry about things they cannot change or control. These are the very things that drive me nuts!! I envy people who can compartmentalize their brains. Most of them remind me of Scarlet O'Hara. They will just worry about it tomorrow, if then. I married one of those types of people. For us it is probably a good thing. Opposites bring balance and often a need for Xanax.
Me?? I am like the proverbial dog with a bone, I chew and chew on it until the bone is bare. Then I go bury it in the backyard and after a day or two I dig it up again and chew some more. Then I will drag it around just to make sure I know where the darn bone is at all times. My brain is never 'compartmentalized'. It is an ongoing cluster smuck on a good day. On a bad day it remains a cluster smuck. Only this time it worries and obsesses non stop. Oh the joy!!!
I am set for surgery on Wednesday. They will call me Tuesday after 3 to tell me what time to be there. I have taken all the classes, done the tests for heart, blood and whatever else they are looking for. The only thing I didn't do was donate some of my blood but no one told me to. My final doctor was a little ticked off but said they forget this all the time. So if I need blood I will get it from the blood bank. The only other time I have had blood transfusions was when I was a little girl and got very sick in the second grade. I needed three transfusions of O positive blood. Granddaddy had given so much blood to others they wouldn't let him donate to me. However, Jimmy Wilmouth donated the blood. He was such a sweet man. Every time he saw me he would laugh and say, "He was just checking on his blood and I was looking like I was taking good care of it." He always made me laugh. Clinton, Ky. is full of good men and women. Many of them made lasting impressions on my life. It was a good place to grow up.
So back to my mission. I needed to talk to my doctor and find out if he wants an ex-ray of my mouth. A friend told me this weekend that I needed this. They refused to operate on him until he has it done. I am leaning toward just getting the darn ex-ray and take it to my doctor Wednesday, just in case. Tommy disagrees. He thinks it is nothing and I should talk to the doctor...back to Scarlet. Soooo I have been calling my doctor office every five minutes and it has been busy every single time. It is a huge place and there are many doctors and more patients. Evidently, I am not the only one who wants to talk to a doctor at this facility, because the phone has been busy since they opened at 8 a.m. I know this for a fact because I was on the phone at 8:02. Someone beat me to the call.
Tommy and Jody left to get something for Jody's wood burning stove. I called my dentist in Fulton and have an appointment to have teeth x-rayed 11:30 Tues. and they will fax the info to my dr. If my dr. calls and says I don't need it I will call and cancel my x-ray. First easy breath I have had this weekend. It helps to have a plan B. Mind relieved.
I originally wanted to name my blog "Plan B" It fit my life perfectly, however some other worry wort claimed it first. Such is life. Hopefully, nothing pops up to stop my surgery on Wed. I think we have it covered. Fingers crossed---much love to all.
