Lightning Strikes

Sometimes when you least expect it, a bolt of lightning strikes.  When it does you react quickly with a smile and a word, “hi” if you are meeting someone.   Once the greeting is over you know you need to smile and begin to understand why you felt an unwanted, shocking strike.  It is a time for you to cope regardless of what the moment brought to you.

Yesterday, we arranged to have lunch with our neighbor from where we previously lived.  We were neighbors for six years and the last time we saw them was a year ago in front of our house.   That day they each came over to bid us a pleasant good-bye.  We often chatted with them in our yard or their’s and rarely did we go into each other’s homes to have a  formal time with each other.  Even though we chatted under the mango trees or during a time when we helped each other we did get to know a fair amount about each other.

As I climbed out of the car my eye quickly stopped at the wife and then on to the husband followed by the strike of lightning.   During the next moment, I found it difficult to say “hi” and pull me together to act normal.  The husband‘s Parkinson’s worsened leaving his left-hand shake unmercifully.  His wife looked haggard and worn.  She appeared as though she was ten years older than she is.

Without too much delay she began to talk about herself and why her shabby appearance was due to her muddled mind.   We accompanied them as they walked into the house.    The husband still is of sound mind although his physical appearance showed that he had lost weight;  the weight that had been lost by an erratic diet.    later he mentioned that there wasn’t food in the house and that we needed to go out.  I felt bad and wanted to shop and make food for them. Yet he would never allow anyone to give them anything.  This is something I learned during our six years we were neighbors.

Over the next two hours, we listened as they each told us about her problems.  She was crestfallen and tired and conscious of what she felt.  She explained at lunch that the man across the table was not her husband, he was a replacement, one that she was not as comfortable as with her real husband.  He asked her for the keys she carried but she would not release them and we knew that she wouldn’t give them to him because she felt this new person might take the car or lock her out of the house.  She kept thinking her purse was missing and then back at the house she stopped us to look at the man in the tree.  Her purse was in her bedroom as it always is.  Back at their house after lunch, she said that there was a man in the tree.  There was no man.

As we drove away, we worried about both of them.  We tried to ask them for any information about  their son but didn’t get any.   The next day we located him and explained to him what we saw and understood.  We felt it was very important for him to go to them and see the sad state each of his parents was in.  At night, the wife gets very upset, goes to the front yard and screams for help for someone to call the police to protect her.  On the other hand, she has been a threat to her husband’s peace and he feels the same as her in calling the police.

Their son will be with them tonight and try to decide what must be done.  Unfortunately, both his parents need professional evaluations during a stay in a hospital.  There are many tales within the bolt of lightning and they must be sorted out by a professional.  I hope there peace comes to them and strength given to the son to make it happen for them. 

To Travel, To Think

We are leaving for New York tomorrow morning.  The day before is always a busy day, but today seems busier than usual.  I often wonder why I need to do laundry in the middle of thinking which pair of pants will fit around my tummy.  I was a little surprised when I tried on pants the other day.  The biggy size I always take to try on were very baggy this time.  I ended up getting into a size 38 dress pants.  I still think the manufacturer erred in sizing the pants correctly.  I have only lost a few pounds, although, it could be my fat has gotten softer, thus allowing it to be condensed to fit into a smaller size!  Truth is when I look in the mirror, well you know, with nuttin’ on the body looks a wee bit too big!!

So, I have one pair of pants that fit well and now the decision is which other pants in my all black wardrobe will fit and be comfortable to travel in without wrinkling that is caused by being squished into the smaller airline seats, the ones that also have little leg room unless you want to pop an extra $20 each way  for one of  the better larger seats.  These are all tawdry worries/complaints that I should not think about!

The more important is how I will handle traveling, being in a crowded airport and plane where enough germs pass by me to surely make me ill.  Being cautious is important.   I certainly do not need a cold or virus that will affect my lungs with a nasty cough and increase my wheezing!  I suppose it was the thought of travel that prompted me to start coughing and wheezing constantly last night.  I guess I need to just do this trip and not think I am going to get sick, even though I will be staying with friends, one of which has just gotten over a virus with deep coughing and flu-like conditions.

The trip will soon be over and I will be back home to garden, wait for my next Avastin/Chemo Treatment and start little repair jobs inside the house, as well as continuing to restore my garden.  After thinking about the busyness of the day before travel I realize it isn’t much worse than my daily chores!

Mornings Now, Tomorrow’s Mornings?

Each morning after I awaken and stretch once or twice, I am ready to touch my feet to the floor and see what the first moment of the new day brings me.  Lately, I hobble to the bathroom, then return to the bed and get back in, or being stupid, I pack up my computer and decide to go downstairs.  The stairwell is always dark and  I need to make sure I feel for the edge of the first step and the handrail.   Once downstairs, I think I should not have come down so I head to my office to take a rest, usually I sit on the sofa and  fall asleep.

When I wake this second time, the ability to feel better should available.  Not always is the case and when it is a sluggish day it will stay that way all day.

Not long ago, I arose early and while having coffee planned my day.  Most days I chose to work in my garden and I started around 6:00 a.m.  It’s a great time to do what you like to do, pulling the weeds, raking and trimming and bring a particular part back into its original beauty.   While I worked I talked to the plants making sure they were happy or telling them that they had a choice to survive or go!  

Now those times are a thing of the past, hopefully, one day they will return.  The loss of doing as I wish isn’t pleasant.  For now I am subject to how I respond to Chemo and after having my second round of treatment yesterday I wonder how I will react this time or will it be an easier time than the first round of Chemo.   Today, I trudged downstairs to get a few things done that were not difficult to do, yet by the time I finished I wanted to return upstairs.  I was daunted by the stairway as I stood at the bottom looking up.  Suddenly the top was farther away than it is.  I took a deep breath, grabbed the railing and headed up the great expanse of steps!

Well, I am the one that caused my plight and I should not complain, but this state of life is one that I do not care for, so I must wait and see what happens.  TIS not the best quality of life.  I wonder, will that all change one day in one tomorrow?

I need a plan, words, my love, my truth

Lying inside the tube of a Magnetic Resonance Image machine today gave me plenty of time to think since there is nothing to do than hold your breath, lie quietly and wait for the next directive from the technician.  The MRI doesn’t bother me as it does so many people and fortunately I am not claustrophobic so I was able to relax.  After the first few images taken I began to focus on the three small windows directly above my eyes. 

Looking at those three little windows I realized I was beginning to see them as a place where my memories became vivid images produced, not by my direct thinking, but through my subconscious.  

The first image was the day I sadly realized that one more attempt to stop smoking failed.  Smartly dressed in a gray Armani suit, silk tie and Italian loafers, I stood by my white, oval, marble desk in my office in the catering firm I ran.  All morning long I became more and more agitated because M and I  spent a fortune on the stop smoking patches that just came on the market.  Even today, they claim they will be successful.  As soon as I moved to the second, less potent level of the patch I realized the claim was a ruse.  That day my addiction won again.

Next came scenes at the hypnotist, the appointment with the doctor who claimed success by giving smokers injections in their noses, another of me standing at a counter at Walgreen buying a fake cigarette to puff on, then on another day I returned to buy a package of filters for cigarettes that were to help.  The images in those three little windows poignantly showed why I was in an MRI.

Now, the left lung lobectomy I have had begins a new trail.  Yesterday’s cat scan showed possible  lesions and maybe a blood clot  in my lung.   The new information reminded me that with each failure to stop smoking brought on gut wrenching worry for tomorrow.   Yet, regardless of my worries,  for years the addiction twisted my mind to continue while only being able to  hope that in some tomorrow I could beat the odds.

I  beat those odds ten years ago.  Even though I did I wasn’t successful.  I  accept whatever my destiny will be.   I wrote this path myself, although, it  bothers me how my actions affect  M, my sister and my family.  If I am lucky all of this ends will end well for me and I will be so thankful.

But then again–

I  need a plan, words, my love, my truth to give to them if or when——

Should I should i s h o u l —

Maybe, two months ago, I should have seen a grief conselor.  I had a premonition that if I didn’t I would feel the ramifications.  I think I was right.  Now, the affects of not doing so is beginning to show.

  • I have a terrible time sleeping.
  • I am not organized.
  • I am a blimp with no control over the binging.
  • I am in Phoenix and wish to be home.
  • Home, the safety of my Library is paramount to me.

Now, I wonder, what do I do.  I am only worried about my eating.  I have absolutely no self-will at this point.  In fact, I feel like I don’t give a damn.  At the same time, I also worry about what this fat midriff is doing to me.  I fear a heart attack.

I may fear a heart attack, but if I should get one then I prefer it to being massive, rather than having it bring me down, have me taken to a hospital and poked at endlessly.  That is torture to me.  I prefer that not be a reality.

Why, I hate hospital’s, I know what they can do and I can’t let that happen to me.  I can’t be there and be poked at looked at.  I was born the wy I am and because I hate the reality it makes me not want to be examined.  To many times I have been and I die a little each time.   I much prefer going to my grave without such untruthful poking!

Am I depressed.  It’s hard to say because usually I feel much differently when I am depressed.  Now I feel only to be in a la la land.  Thats it i just float through the environments and discussions I have.  Can’t seem to settle down and focus on what is beeing said.

I have to think all this out!