Personal Musings
My father got married...
Friday, July25, 2008
June 28, 2008 marked a very special occasion. My
father married. Again.
His 4th wife died a few years ago from leukemia. God grant her peace. She was only 47.
Oh. That. Yeah. That's right. Mickey makes wife number 5. Let's hope in this case, 5th time's the charm.
What a beautiful wedding it was! I do have to admit, however, it started pretty casually. I received a phone call from my father one afternoon about a week before the said illustrious event. Hello, Dad.
He proceeds to tell me that he's getting married. Ummm, okay. Not too surprising. They had, after all, been dating for a while. Then he says, "We have to. I'm going to be a father."
Say WHAT?! Ohhhh, that's my father being pithy. Thank God.
So, I get this email invitation to the wedding with the warning at the bottom to please leave your weapons, gang colors and spurs at home.
~blink~ Um. Gotcha. Glock remains in the gun safe. Spurs stay hanging from the headboard and gang colors are left in the closet.
Reading the invitation, I see that the wedding is being held up north. There's a pre-wedding luncheon in a park. The wedding itself is being held in the chapel attached to the park. Then, the cake will be cut at the ramada back in the park. Finally, everyone is to adjourn to a country/western bar downtown. How's that for casual? This is a couple who cared nothing for convention but only care for their happiness and that of their friends. I love it.
So I show up, in a skirt, blouse and flat sandals. To me, it was incredibly casual. No hose, no jewelry. Just pretty basic. I felt like I was dressed for a White House event compared to the yards of denim and shorts on the entire contingent, including the bride and groom! I thought he was kidding when he said that they were all wearing jeans. ~grins~
I have to say, the ceremony was incredibly touching. They started off by dancing a favorite slow song and then a very giddy Mickey and my father exchanged vows. He looked so in love. Their very obvious affection for each other was palpable. But too soon it was done and we headed off to have cake and then left for the saloon.
Let me say this: I can't believe I actually went into a saloon. Here's the REAL trip... I actually did a little country dancing! Some alien entered my body. I swear it. But I really did enjoy myself and I loved watching Mickey and my father dancing all night long with each other and with every one else.
When I first showed up, I thought I'd be there an hour tops. I wound up staying there for 5 hours. Go figure. But I had a wonderful time, meeting all their friends and new step-siblings.
It's been a very long month, or I would have written earlier about this wonderful experience. But I'm here now...and now you're here, reading me. Tune in tomorrow. I'll be writing all weekend.
His 4th wife died a few years ago from leukemia. God grant her peace. She was only 47.
Oh. That. Yeah. That's right. Mickey makes wife number 5. Let's hope in this case, 5th time's the charm.
What a beautiful wedding it was! I do have to admit, however, it started pretty casually. I received a phone call from my father one afternoon about a week before the said illustrious event. Hello, Dad.
He proceeds to tell me that he's getting married. Ummm, okay. Not too surprising. They had, after all, been dating for a while. Then he says, "We have to. I'm going to be a father."
Say WHAT?! Ohhhh, that's my father being pithy. Thank God.
So, I get this email invitation to the wedding with the warning at the bottom to please leave your weapons, gang colors and spurs at home.
~blink~ Um. Gotcha. Glock remains in the gun safe. Spurs stay hanging from the headboard and gang colors are left in the closet.
Reading the invitation, I see that the wedding is being held up north. There's a pre-wedding luncheon in a park. The wedding itself is being held in the chapel attached to the park. Then, the cake will be cut at the ramada back in the park. Finally, everyone is to adjourn to a country/western bar downtown. How's that for casual? This is a couple who cared nothing for convention but only care for their happiness and that of their friends. I love it.
So I show up, in a skirt, blouse and flat sandals. To me, it was incredibly casual. No hose, no jewelry. Just pretty basic. I felt like I was dressed for a White House event compared to the yards of denim and shorts on the entire contingent, including the bride and groom! I thought he was kidding when he said that they were all wearing jeans. ~grins~
I have to say, the ceremony was incredibly touching. They started off by dancing a favorite slow song and then a very giddy Mickey and my father exchanged vows. He looked so in love. Their very obvious affection for each other was palpable. But too soon it was done and we headed off to have cake and then left for the saloon.
Let me say this: I can't believe I actually went into a saloon. Here's the REAL trip... I actually did a little country dancing! Some alien entered my body. I swear it. But I really did enjoy myself and I loved watching Mickey and my father dancing all night long with each other and with every one else.
When I first showed up, I thought I'd be there an hour tops. I wound up staying there for 5 hours. Go figure. But I had a wonderful time, meeting all their friends and new step-siblings.
It's been a very long month, or I would have written earlier about this wonderful experience. But I'm here now...and now you're here, reading me. Tune in tomorrow. I'll be writing all weekend.
|
Who knew? My Shih Tzu loves coffee!
Sunday, March02, 2008
So, here I was, minding my own business, doing some reading for some book reviews. I was getting sleepy, so I made myself a cup of coffee from my new Senseo coffee maker. I was sitting on the sofa and leaned over to grab the coffee mug off the side table. My dog, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, came bounding over and as I was actually taking a sip, she put one paw on my chest and dipped her nose in the mug, taking a sip herself! I nearly spewed my coffee all over myself!
This is a dog who normally is very
mild-mannered, and unless it's french fries or
cheese, doesn't get all that excited about
people food. Oh sure, she'll sniff the air, and
wag her tail, hoping for a tidbit, but she's
NEVER actually attempted to eat anything I've
had in my hand, never mind trying to drink from
the same cup! I of course, tried to get her to
get down, so she scooted on to the ottoman,
sitting on my legs and whined as I attempted to
drink my coffee. (Hindsight makes me wonder why
I didn't opt to dump the entire mug out. After
all, she did just have her face in my drink.
Must be left over from my days as an ER nurse,
where eating food out of an emesis basin wasn't
unusual. What? It was CLEAN!)
Apparently, she'd had enough waiting on my legs because when I set the cup down, she jumped on to my lap and attempted to lean over the arm of the sofa, reaching for the mug, trying not to actually place her front paws on the table. At this point I just started laughing. All shock had worn off and I was just dying. Tears were rolling down my face. I even had a cramp in my side. What a nut. I was terrified that she'd be up all night, bouncing off the walls, but thankfully when I announced it was time for bed, she ran for the bedroom, in typical Diva fashion. Pets. Just when you think they've become predictable...
And we're off...
Sunday, February24, 2008
I can't
believe I've managed to set up my own website. I
originally set up the website using iweb, a program
that came with my Mac. It was a good way to get
published, but I liken it to a website builder with
training wheels. Do you remember riding a bike with
training wheels? Remember how wobbly those extra
wheels were? A little rickety as you'd totter back
and forth? Yeah, this is iweb. Meant for .Mac
publication, there were a lot of compatibility issues
with FTP servers. So, I bit the bullet and here I
am...an entire week later, and I've actually created
my own site. I'm still tweaking where things will go,
so check back often as I rearrange the furniture.
What do you think of it so far? Background colors match the banner all right? Any broken links?
Let me know! I'd love to hear from you!
What do you think of it so far? Background colors match the banner all right? Any broken links?
Let me know! I'd love to hear from you!
Voting and other broken things
Tuesday, February05, 2008
Back in December I was Christmas shopping at the local mall. Well, I left the Border's and walked outside to the nearest mall entrance. As I walked by a nearby planter, the ground had sunk due to settling or something. And I, laden with many bags, went sprawling. I ripped my favorite pair of pants. And I ripped my skin from low thigh to upper calf. When I called Mall Security, they asked me what sort of shoes I was wearing. “Stripper heels! What difference does it make? A broken sidewalk is a broken sidewalk!”
Deep breath. For the next 6 weeks, I healed, and every time I would bend my knee, the skin would rip open and re-bleed. I didn't think much about my foot, which was a bit sore. Now, my knee is still a little discolored, but about 10 days ago, I was sleeping and woke to a miserable pain in my foot. Being the stubborn nurse that I am, I thought it'd go away.
Finally, yesterday, I went in to see my doc (one of the coolest guys I've met in a long time, btw) who said I either had A. a boxer's fracture (as in kickboxing; however, the reason I want my foot to heal is to get back to kickboxing. It wasn't the cause.) or B. a torn ligament or tendon. I was placed in a cast boot and am supposed to get an MRI. It's about $700 and I haven't met my insurance deductible yet, so it'd be all my expense. I don't know about you, but I can't afford $700. Tax refund or no, I'm not giving my refund to an MRI. Fuggedaboutit.
So, I'm opting to wear the boot for about 4-6 weeks and see how it feels. If it's still messed up, I'm off to the orthopedic doc and will ~sighs~ give in to the expense.
Today, gimp and all, I went to go vote. I am not a republican or democrat. Seriously. I vote across lines, if need be. But I went to the primary and had to vote within my registered parameters. I wait about 20 min in line and get to the front. Here's our new ID issue. You have to have a govt issued pic ID. And it has to match the address on their books. If it doesn't, then you have to provide another govt. issued something or other that has the correct address. In the case of my town water bill, it has to be within the last 90 days. No big. I pulled my latest water bill, my DL (and while it's correct in their system, on the card itself it's my last address), and my voter registration card which also has the correct address. I plunk my DL down on the desk and the lady finds my name. This lady is a trip. Mac, if she voted probably dealt with the same lady. Flaming red hair, in her late 60s to mid 70s and bright red lipstick coming off in chunks. Yup, that's about an accurate visual.
She says my DL doesn't have my correct address. I present my water bill and my voter reg, which both have the same address, and of course, which matches her book.
She says 'You HAVE to replace your driver's license in time for the general election.'
I say 'it has the correct information registered at the DMV.'
Red: 'It doesn't matter, it needs to be on the card itself.'
Eye brow raised, I reply: 'I fulfilled all your requirements, as stated on your web page.'
She, snapping at me: 'You'll have to go through all this again.'
Forehead crease, me: 'All what? I handed you my water bill. I can do that again, with an up to date bill when the time comes. I'm not standing in line for two hours at the DMV to get a new address printed on my DL. It's fine the way it is.' (Might I also insert here that my DL doesn't expire until 2030???? Yes, you read that right. I'll be 60 years old when it expires.)
Snippy redhead: 'That's YOUR prerogative. You need to sign the book before you get your ballot.'
Me, looking around for a pen on the desk, other than the one in her hand.
She of the false red hair, with one long equally-false red nail, taps the book impatiently: 'You need to sign the book HERE, now!'
Me, with a very aggravated, about-to-throttle-her look, talking very quietly, in a dead calm: 'I need a pen to do so.'
She SLAMS the pen in front of me so hard I thought it would break.
I sign the book, then lean down, both palms on cheap conference room table and lean in about 3 inches from her face: 'Are you always this rude?'
She rears back as if she's been slapped. Her mouth drops open as if all muscle control keeping it closed fled. She snaps it shut again, looks down at her book, then back up to me: 'No, I'm not.'
Lady behind her holds out a ballot: 'Ma'am would you like your ballot now?'
Lady behind me, in a LOUD New York infused voice: 'You'd think you could be a little nicer to a woman with a broken leg!'
Entire crowd erupts into laughter. Both ladies stand up, peer over desk at said cast-boot foot and I walk away.
They really need to screen these volunteers. At the very least, make sure they have their rabies shots before reporting for duty!
So, now, here I am with a glass of Nero D'Avola and a homemade salad with pine nuts, feta, romaine, cukes and red onions, topped with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, able to laugh now...but earlier? Wasn't so funny.
Have a great night, everyone. I'm off to watch HOUSE!
Tagged!
Wednesday, January16, 2008
This morning, I learned that I’d been tagged by my
Wicked friend Shelley Bradley. Check out her
blog
here.
My goal, should I choose to accept it, is to list
7 random facts about myself and then tag others.
So, here goes nothing...
I absolutely love Z’Tejas. I love their margaritas, their queso, their VooDoo Tuna. You can’t go wrong with that place. Seriously. I have many recipes from when I worked there aeons ago, including a salsa recipe that I altered and make all the time.
If I could take an extended trip tomorrow, I’d want to go to either Colorado or Alaska, if it’s in the country. Outside of the States, I’d want to visit Italy. But seriously, it’d take well over a month to visit all the places I’d want to go.
If I’m at a party and drinking alcohol, you’re most likely to see me with a glass of Cabernet. I’ve been to Napa, did a lot of wine tasting and love the taste of red wines, but especially Napa or Sonoma Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ve never met an Australian red wine that I liked.
When I get stressed about something, I have a compulsion to clean or organize. Stress somehow galvanizes my inner Martha Stewart.
I don’t drink beer. Ever. Nasty stuff. Looks like horse pee.
My brothers are greater than a decade younger than me. I used to get comments when I was a teen, complimenting my children!
I used to be a rabid Durany. Not only did my license plate say Durany, but I met the band more than once. They actually remembered me from the previous meeting. Scary. I don’t know how to take that!
OK I have to tag some people now. Charli, Jennifer, Cathryn, Ann, Maura, Ali and Mimmi GO!
I absolutely love Z’Tejas. I love their margaritas, their queso, their VooDoo Tuna. You can’t go wrong with that place. Seriously. I have many recipes from when I worked there aeons ago, including a salsa recipe that I altered and make all the time.
If I could take an extended trip tomorrow, I’d want to go to either Colorado or Alaska, if it’s in the country. Outside of the States, I’d want to visit Italy. But seriously, it’d take well over a month to visit all the places I’d want to go.
If I’m at a party and drinking alcohol, you’re most likely to see me with a glass of Cabernet. I’ve been to Napa, did a lot of wine tasting and love the taste of red wines, but especially Napa or Sonoma Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ve never met an Australian red wine that I liked.
When I get stressed about something, I have a compulsion to clean or organize. Stress somehow galvanizes my inner Martha Stewart.
I don’t drink beer. Ever. Nasty stuff. Looks like horse pee.
My brothers are greater than a decade younger than me. I used to get comments when I was a teen, complimenting my children!
I used to be a rabid Durany. Not only did my license plate say Durany, but I met the band more than once. They actually remembered me from the previous meeting. Scary. I don’t know how to take that!
OK I have to tag some people now. Charli, Jennifer, Cathryn, Ann, Maura, Ali and Mimmi GO!
Ode to our Service Men and Women
Friday, November23, 2007
One of the women on a writers' group I subscribe to
sent us this poem. I'd heard it before, but wanted to
give tribute to all the men and women who won't be
home this holiday (and all those who've been away for
any milestone moment, including a child's birth, a
death, etc). These soldiers do so much for us, and we
show such little gratitude. So, Army, Air Force,
Marines, Navy. . .this is for you:
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always
remembers.'
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the
sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not
fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'
'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're
gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always
remembers.'
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the
sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not
fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'
'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're
gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'
Tragedy During Rush Hour
Thursday, September13, 2007
So, I was on my way to work on Wednesday. I heard the
freeway was backed up so I decided to take a surface
street. There goes a red light and I had to stop. I
looked across the street to a commotion and noticed a
woman lying in the road and another holding her neck.
Several people were standing on the sidewalk just
gaping.
I didn't think. I just whipped around the corner, parked my car in a bus stop, jumped out of the car and held up my hand like a New Yorker, screaming at the people whizzing by to stop their cars. Miraculously, they did.
I ran across the street and bent down to the woman, saying, 'I'm a nurse, I'm here to help you.' I attempted to ask the woman her name, but while she tracked my movements with her eyes, she didn't respond. Not knowing what her baseline was, I didn't know if she EVER could share her name, so I moved on. I scanned the area. A mangled bike was laying in the road. Apparently she'd been biking and had been hit by an oversized semi. I later learned that she was riding on the sidewalk, but for some reason had decided to go into what might be considered a bike lane right at that intersection (it could have been due to another bus stop on that side of the road and, with people there, rather than attempt to maneuver around them, she instead went into the street). She apparently hugged the curb but moved out a little too soon, and was clipped by the last axle of the trailer.
She was breathing shallowly, trying not to move. I felt for a pulse. Thready, fast and weak. I looked up at the other woman holding c-spine, so that in case she had a spinal injury she wouldn't paralyze herself by inadvertently moving. I started to get scared for this woman. The other woman said she was a nurse too. I wasn't sure what to do since I didn't have a kit. Someone had called 911. Help was on the way.
I felt for her respirations. I saw a bunch of abrasions on the right side of her body. I felt for broken ribs. It felt like they were all broken. I felt the ribs compress and crackle with each breath. I was more scared. At least one lung was useless. The 'snap-crackle-pop' I knew was subcutaneous air in the space outside her lungs putting pressure on her breathing. Her breathing was agonal. The breathing one gets as they're breathing their last. God, where WAS that damn fire department!
Her eyes stopped tracking my moves. Her vision looked like it was fading. . .
Sirens!
Police and fire showed up at the same time. I stated that I was a nurse. I was given an IV kit, but as I went to start an IV, I noticed her lips turning blue. I yelled at her, 'No no no no no!' She was giving up and I wasn't ready for her to give up! Damn it!
I threw down the IV supplies and grabbed some oxygen, put in an airway (with the help of the other nurse because the woman's jaws were clamping down) and started to breath for her with the mask. Leads were placed. CPR started. Drugs given. Shocks given. She was intubated, IV was started. Shocks and more drugs. PEA. CPR. Didn't matter. Come ON! Come back to us. Helicopter landed. She's gone. We dropped our hands. The code was called. Blanket was placed over her. Helicopter left. A life lost in the street.
I was high on adrenalin for over an over afterward, then I just crashed. I couldn't help it. I just crashed. I could barely keep my eyes open. And when I would close them, I could see her pretty blonde hair, her blue blue eyes, starting at me, scared, confused.
Miraculously, I went to work, put in almost a full day, then drove in rush hour home. I got home and noticed some of the keys were missing from my keychain. They must have fallen off at the scene. How did THAT happen? The next day I called several of the detectives and sergeants before finally getting a hold of the detective in charge who told me that he had my keys locked in evidence and would bring them to me the next day. Wow. I didn't have to come claim them? How amazingly nice of him. He would come to me. So, apparently he'll meet me at work tomorrow. And yet, I still can't get past those eyes, staring at me as life slipped away. . . .
I didn't think. I just whipped around the corner, parked my car in a bus stop, jumped out of the car and held up my hand like a New Yorker, screaming at the people whizzing by to stop their cars. Miraculously, they did.
I ran across the street and bent down to the woman, saying, 'I'm a nurse, I'm here to help you.' I attempted to ask the woman her name, but while she tracked my movements with her eyes, she didn't respond. Not knowing what her baseline was, I didn't know if she EVER could share her name, so I moved on. I scanned the area. A mangled bike was laying in the road. Apparently she'd been biking and had been hit by an oversized semi. I later learned that she was riding on the sidewalk, but for some reason had decided to go into what might be considered a bike lane right at that intersection (it could have been due to another bus stop on that side of the road and, with people there, rather than attempt to maneuver around them, she instead went into the street). She apparently hugged the curb but moved out a little too soon, and was clipped by the last axle of the trailer.
She was breathing shallowly, trying not to move. I felt for a pulse. Thready, fast and weak. I looked up at the other woman holding c-spine, so that in case she had a spinal injury she wouldn't paralyze herself by inadvertently moving. I started to get scared for this woman. The other woman said she was a nurse too. I wasn't sure what to do since I didn't have a kit. Someone had called 911. Help was on the way.
I felt for her respirations. I saw a bunch of abrasions on the right side of her body. I felt for broken ribs. It felt like they were all broken. I felt the ribs compress and crackle with each breath. I was more scared. At least one lung was useless. The 'snap-crackle-pop' I knew was subcutaneous air in the space outside her lungs putting pressure on her breathing. Her breathing was agonal. The breathing one gets as they're breathing their last. God, where WAS that damn fire department!
Her eyes stopped tracking my moves. Her vision looked like it was fading. . .
Sirens!
Police and fire showed up at the same time. I stated that I was a nurse. I was given an IV kit, but as I went to start an IV, I noticed her lips turning blue. I yelled at her, 'No no no no no!' She was giving up and I wasn't ready for her to give up! Damn it!
I threw down the IV supplies and grabbed some oxygen, put in an airway (with the help of the other nurse because the woman's jaws were clamping down) and started to breath for her with the mask. Leads were placed. CPR started. Drugs given. Shocks given. She was intubated, IV was started. Shocks and more drugs. PEA. CPR. Didn't matter. Come ON! Come back to us. Helicopter landed. She's gone. We dropped our hands. The code was called. Blanket was placed over her. Helicopter left. A life lost in the street.
I was high on adrenalin for over an over afterward, then I just crashed. I couldn't help it. I just crashed. I could barely keep my eyes open. And when I would close them, I could see her pretty blonde hair, her blue blue eyes, starting at me, scared, confused.
Miraculously, I went to work, put in almost a full day, then drove in rush hour home. I got home and noticed some of the keys were missing from my keychain. They must have fallen off at the scene. How did THAT happen? The next day I called several of the detectives and sergeants before finally getting a hold of the detective in charge who told me that he had my keys locked in evidence and would bring them to me the next day. Wow. I didn't have to come claim them? How amazingly nice of him. He would come to me. So, apparently he'll meet me at work tomorrow. And yet, I still can't get past those eyes, staring at me as life slipped away. . . .
Moving!
Monday, September10, 2007
A few months ago, I had decided that I was not going
to stay in the house I'd been renting. For one thing,
it was way too big for just me and my dog. For
another, I rented the house to avoid a lot of the
grief I'd dealt with over the past year. I've been a
home owner before. I didn't want to deal with home
repairs, finding lawn maintenance crew etc. And this
out of state owner wanted me to do most of the work
myself. Uh, no. Time for me to find a smaller, cuter
house. The house may have a kitchen with an island
the size of Rhode Island and a spa in the backyard,
but these pros didn't outweigh the cons.
I found a house about 3 miles away. It's more of a patio home with one shared wall. Actually that shared wall is part of the kitchen and garage. It's all tile floors except for the bedroom which has new carpet. Lots of planter shelves, and it was less expensive than the other house. Oh yea.
So the day of the move arrived. The movers showed up bright and early. They had everything on the truck within 90 minutes. Oh, well it helped that I was 'one of the most organized people they'd ever seen' (their quote) and had all of my boxes in the garage stacked by room, as well as the smaller pieces of furniture like file cabinets, end tables.
We drove the three miles to the new house, and within another 90 minutes the boxes and furniture was unloaded. I then went back to the other house to finish cleaning, mopping and shampooing the carpets. I'd done the two smaller bedrooms and my mother came down from her house to help me clean and shampoo the rest. After this, we were so wiped. I wanted to take off and eat lunch, but I had to wait for the cable guy. So mom left while I started unpacking. . .and unpacking. . .and unpacking. Over the next three days, I unpacked, organized, cleaned, decorated and set my house in order. I slept a couple hours then got up to do some more.
Sounds normal right? Well, I knew I had to do most of the unpacking on my own. I also knew that I would go crazy waiting for someone else to help me. So, I started doing some things on my own, like hanging my 70 pound mirror, and assembling my u-shaped desk. While putting the desk together, however, I managed to drop a piece, right on my laptop monitor. After swearing, crying and generally acting despondent, I remembered that I'd taken a rider out on this computer and it was fully insured. After being on the phone with the insurance company for 30 minutes, I was told that in 48 hours, I would have the money in my checking account to go buy a new computer.
I used to have an Apple Powerbook G4. I now have a Mac Book Pro. This thing, I think, makes coffee. It has a backlit keyboard, and this super drive that will, in essence, allow me to record my entire iTunes library on one disk. Have I shared how many audio books and songs I have on there? Anyway. . . .
I'm finally moved in. Pictures and curtains are hung. Boxes are empty and broken down. AND I have a new computer. Life could be much worse.
I found a house about 3 miles away. It's more of a patio home with one shared wall. Actually that shared wall is part of the kitchen and garage. It's all tile floors except for the bedroom which has new carpet. Lots of planter shelves, and it was less expensive than the other house. Oh yea.
So the day of the move arrived. The movers showed up bright and early. They had everything on the truck within 90 minutes. Oh, well it helped that I was 'one of the most organized people they'd ever seen' (their quote) and had all of my boxes in the garage stacked by room, as well as the smaller pieces of furniture like file cabinets, end tables.
We drove the three miles to the new house, and within another 90 minutes the boxes and furniture was unloaded. I then went back to the other house to finish cleaning, mopping and shampooing the carpets. I'd done the two smaller bedrooms and my mother came down from her house to help me clean and shampoo the rest. After this, we were so wiped. I wanted to take off and eat lunch, but I had to wait for the cable guy. So mom left while I started unpacking. . .and unpacking. . .and unpacking. Over the next three days, I unpacked, organized, cleaned, decorated and set my house in order. I slept a couple hours then got up to do some more.
Sounds normal right? Well, I knew I had to do most of the unpacking on my own. I also knew that I would go crazy waiting for someone else to help me. So, I started doing some things on my own, like hanging my 70 pound mirror, and assembling my u-shaped desk. While putting the desk together, however, I managed to drop a piece, right on my laptop monitor. After swearing, crying and generally acting despondent, I remembered that I'd taken a rider out on this computer and it was fully insured. After being on the phone with the insurance company for 30 minutes, I was told that in 48 hours, I would have the money in my checking account to go buy a new computer.
I used to have an Apple Powerbook G4. I now have a Mac Book Pro. This thing, I think, makes coffee. It has a backlit keyboard, and this super drive that will, in essence, allow me to record my entire iTunes library on one disk. Have I shared how many audio books and songs I have on there? Anyway. . . .
I'm finally moved in. Pictures and curtains are hung. Boxes are empty and broken down. AND I have a new computer. Life could be much worse.
I won a trip to Enchantment Resort in Sedona!
Monday, August13, 2007
Last year, as I was getting ready for work, I heard
our local jazz radio station talking about giving
away tickets to the Sedona Jazz on the Rocks. They
were giving out their last set of tickets. They
called out for ‘Denise McClain of Queen Creek’. OK. I
haven’t lived in QC for at least 1 1/2 years. I can’t
imagine there was another resident with my name, but
hey, stranger things have happened. So I called in.
They asked me to verify my DOB, and then said that, yes, it was me they were talking about. Wow, concert tickets. I hadn’t won anything in a while, so this was a pleasant surprise. But I was cautioned to not come in to the radio station until at least Monday, when they’d be drawing their grand prize. What was it? A weekend getaway to The Enchantment Resort. OOOOK. The likelihood of that happening was slim. But, sure, I’ll wait. ~snort~ Fast forward to Monday, when lo! I got an email from the station mgr. stating that I did indeed win the grand prize drawing. You have GOT to be kidding!
I get to the station and have to sign a 1099! How much ARE these rooms anyway!? Fast forward again to last weekend. I finally ask my friend Deb to come with me to the resort. We both had Friday off and we head up there, with Diva in tow (that’s the puppy). We drop her off at the doggie hotel and head out of town into National Forest area, in Boynton Canyon were the resort was located. We crest the last turn leading into the canyon and there was the resort. It took my breath away. How can something like this be so beautiful? We had to give our name to the guard at the gate to even be let on property, and drove to the front desk area, where the notice of our arrival was called ahead. After checking in, we followed our bellman to the parking area just below our casita, where he then loaded our bags onto his cart and drove us to the room. Unreal. Our beautiful room even had a skylight in the bathroom to view all the stars. Since our casita was at the top of the property, we had an unimpeded view from our balcony AND the front door. The pictures on my picture page will show those views. I can’t believe I won this! It truly was the best views of Sedona I’d seen yet, and I’ve been going there for years! Nestled in the canyon, away from the tourist traffic and noise, pitch black at night where you can count all the stars. Unbelievable. A slice of heaven.
OJ and newspapers left on the doorstep every morning. Inspirational cards and plush robes left on our turned down beds in the evening, with filled ice buckets. It was unparalleled service.
Our first night included an exclusive invitation to Mii Amo (which means ‘one’s journey’ in a Native American dialect) Spa for a book signing by Perry Garfinkel, National Geographic journalist who wrote the book ‘Buddha or Bust’. Then we enjoyed a wine and cheese party. The spa itself is listed in several books as one of the top spas in the world. I can see why. From their immense array of services to the meditation ashram and medicine wheel garden, it really is a place to behold.
We spent our time on the grounds, as well as in town where we found fun books on the paranormal, crystals, clothes and amazing food, like Picazzo’s and the Cowboy Club, which had a filet mignon among the best I’ve ever tasted. We also went on a 3 hour hike to various vortex/rock sites, like Coffeepot, Cathedral rock, Thunder Mountain and Airport Mesa. Sunday came way too fast, and an exhausted Deb and Denise picked up the Diva and headed home. It was a journey I’ll not forget any time soon. I can’t wait to go back!
They asked me to verify my DOB, and then said that, yes, it was me they were talking about. Wow, concert tickets. I hadn’t won anything in a while, so this was a pleasant surprise. But I was cautioned to not come in to the radio station until at least Monday, when they’d be drawing their grand prize. What was it? A weekend getaway to The Enchantment Resort. OOOOK. The likelihood of that happening was slim. But, sure, I’ll wait. ~snort~ Fast forward to Monday, when lo! I got an email from the station mgr. stating that I did indeed win the grand prize drawing. You have GOT to be kidding!
I get to the station and have to sign a 1099! How much ARE these rooms anyway!? Fast forward again to last weekend. I finally ask my friend Deb to come with me to the resort. We both had Friday off and we head up there, with Diva in tow (that’s the puppy). We drop her off at the doggie hotel and head out of town into National Forest area, in Boynton Canyon were the resort was located. We crest the last turn leading into the canyon and there was the resort. It took my breath away. How can something like this be so beautiful? We had to give our name to the guard at the gate to even be let on property, and drove to the front desk area, where the notice of our arrival was called ahead. After checking in, we followed our bellman to the parking area just below our casita, where he then loaded our bags onto his cart and drove us to the room. Unreal. Our beautiful room even had a skylight in the bathroom to view all the stars. Since our casita was at the top of the property, we had an unimpeded view from our balcony AND the front door. The pictures on my picture page will show those views. I can’t believe I won this! It truly was the best views of Sedona I’d seen yet, and I’ve been going there for years! Nestled in the canyon, away from the tourist traffic and noise, pitch black at night where you can count all the stars. Unbelievable. A slice of heaven.
OJ and newspapers left on the doorstep every morning. Inspirational cards and plush robes left on our turned down beds in the evening, with filled ice buckets. It was unparalleled service.
Our first night included an exclusive invitation to Mii Amo (which means ‘one’s journey’ in a Native American dialect) Spa for a book signing by Perry Garfinkel, National Geographic journalist who wrote the book ‘Buddha or Bust’. Then we enjoyed a wine and cheese party. The spa itself is listed in several books as one of the top spas in the world. I can see why. From their immense array of services to the meditation ashram and medicine wheel garden, it really is a place to behold.
We spent our time on the grounds, as well as in town where we found fun books on the paranormal, crystals, clothes and amazing food, like Picazzo’s and the Cowboy Club, which had a filet mignon among the best I’ve ever tasted. We also went on a 3 hour hike to various vortex/rock sites, like Coffeepot, Cathedral rock, Thunder Mountain and Airport Mesa. Sunday came way too fast, and an exhausted Deb and Denise picked up the Diva and headed home. It was a journey I’ll not forget any time soon. I can’t wait to go back!