Disinfecting the germs

I'm a believer in signs. Some call it fate. Others, divine intervention. It's been a long week. I learned something that upset me, and since it isn't mine to share, I won't, but know that it brought me to my knees. 

That happens ever so often. I tootle along, content in the way I've handled life, and BAM, like walking into a wall, reality hits. I usually know beforehand, odd as that might seem, but there is a feeling, almost a sense of dread. I'm never truly prepared. BAM!

The first few days following, I didn't sleep. I existed because I had to. I sought counsel, met things straight on, researched, and talked my way through moving forward. As I struggled, I found signs--dialogue from a book I read. Words from strangers. Lyrics in songs. Things that said to me, blame yourself, absolve, make plans, keep trucking.

Midway through the week, our weather in one night went from the seventies to the forties. When I first moved to Florida, someone told me that the reason why I was sick often was the state rarely got cold enough to clear out the germs. Wednesday, the bacteria were cleared, and I managed to stand--tip-toeing, but upright.

Damn. Life is hard, isn't it? There is the good, the bad, the ugly, and, hopefully, much more good. It's hard not to want to solve everything, to erase the bad and the ugly, but slowly, this week, I've had the wake-up call. It's easy to be judgmental. Not so easy when the tables are turned.

Life.

I'll learn from it. Already, I'm listening more. I've readjusted things. I'm protecting better, loving greater. I'm grateful to you who've helped, who've reached out and especially to you who haven't run. Thank you, my peeps.

Knock on wood that this is over!

Surgery #2 - Left Eye

For some reason, this surgery was completely different from beginning to end. First, I was a nervous nellie. I'm not sure why, but I was anxious, weepy, and worried. Secondly, they took me in right away, stretched me out on the bed, and did everything at once from eye drops to blood pressure, to taping down my head to jabbing me in the hand with the drugs. It was rush, rush, rush. I felt even more anxious and then they wheeled me off to the surgery room.

I didn't have nearly as many eye drops this time, which I kept mentioning to whoever would listen. The response, "No, we don't have to do as many the second time around." Huh? What? Why not? I was sure I was going to feel this surgery as they sliced through my cornea because of the lack of numbing drops, but alas, all went well.

The surgery was a "slam, bam, thank you ma'am" quick one, and the whole process from beginning to slipping me into the car took an hour. Last time....3 hours. This eye didn't have the pain that the first one did. The big difference was that everything and everyone looked red. That disappeared this morning. The vision isn't as clear distance wise as the right eye, but I believe that they tweak the Crystallens in the other eye to help me see better up close. I'll find out more at the follow-up visit today.

Thanks to everyone who sent me emails, and cards, and to those who phoned me. I appreciate all the thoughts and prayers sent my way. Right now I'm typing this without glasses and my future looks clear!

And I worked out next to the President of the United States

It was exciting to watch history being made today. I've never been more proud of my country. I don't know that the new President can change things or make things better, but I do feel that we are taking a step in the right direction. We need diversity. We need to stop being two sides working against one another. Hopefully, this will be the start of that.

Hanging Photos

I got rid of my dining room because it had become Tom's office. I made it into a study, which is really Tom's office. I had a vision of what I wanted and one of the things in my vision was covering the walls with my kids' artwork and pictures. Today I worked on making this a reality.

I have had the main wall mapped out for some time. The other day I bought the frames, and with my friend, SueG's help we began the task of hanging the photos. I am not a bad hanger when it comes to pictures. When I was a youngster I hung first pictures of Lance Kerwin, then Shaun Cassidy and Parker Stevenson and finally Tom Selleck on my bedroom walls. But these were pictures ripped out of Tiger Beat Magazine and not framed. (Well, except for that one Tom Selleck framed photo) I eventually moved on to framed photos.

One day I hung a collage of frames and pictures on one of my walls. My work ethic went like this: I would hold up the picture, stand at arm's length to eye it, mark it with a pencil, hammer in the nail, hang the picture. Then I moved on to the next one. Just as I was finishing this job my father happen by the doorway to my room. He was appalled at my technique. He wanted to enlighten me by explaining how I should be measuring from the ceiling down and how I should be measuring in between each frame so the distance would be the same. I pointed out that everything looked even. He went outside and brought back a yardstick and proceeded to measure what I had hung. It was almost perfect. He never questioned me again. Thus I was born to hang pictures.

Today was a tad harder than those days in my bedroom. First of all SueG and I argued about how high to start. She wanted to start almost to the ceiling and I pointed out that all the experts state that frames should be at eye level. I won't repeat what she replied as SueG can be a bit colorful, but I did win the argument. We worked out the following arrangement: SueG did all the math and measurements. I decided whether things were crooked or even and did all the hammering and hanging. It took forever.

By the time we had to leave we still had 7 frames left to hang. Later that evening I attempted to finish the job. I got 2 frames done to complete the second row and then realized that the third row was not going to work. Not only would it be too low on the wall, but three of the frames would not be spaced right because we had measured incorrectly. I decided the job looked fine the way it was and declared it complete (after making several frantic calls to people I knew).

The other wall was done by my husband. It took way longer and he was a tad grouchy at the end. But I'm happy with the results. Once I get real photos in them I will post close-ups.

Indiana Code

My last post (and email) reminded me of one my sister sent me years ago. I've kept it, and since I'm a Hoosier by birth I'm posting it as well.

Hoosier Code:

1. Know the state casserole. The state casserole consists of canned green beans, Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and fried onions. You can safely take this casserole to any social event and know that you will be accepted.
2. Get used to food festivals. The Indiana General Assembly, in an effort to grow bigger athletes, passed legislation years ago requiring every incorporated community to have at least one festival per year dedicated to high-fat food. It is your duty as a Hoosier to attend these festivals and at least buy an elephant ear.
3. Know the geography. Of Florida, I mean. I've run into Hoosiers who couldn't tell you where Evansville is but they know the exact distance from Fort Myers to Bonita Springs. That's because all Hoosiers go to Florida in the winter. Or plan to when they retire. We consider Florida to be the Lower Peninsula of Indiana.
4. If you can't afford to spend the winter in Florida, use the state excuse, which is that you stay here because you enjoy the change of season. You'll be lying, but that's OK. We've all done it.
5. In Indiana wear layers or die. The thing to remember about Indiana seasons is that they can occur at any time. We have spring-like days in January and wintry weekends in October. April is capable of providing a sampling of all four seasons in a single 24-hour period. For these reasons, Indiana is the Layering Capital of the World. Even layering, however, can pose danger. Golfers have been known to dress for hypothermia and end up dead of heat stroke because they couldn't strip off their layers of plaid fast enough on a changeable spring morning.
6. Don't take Indiana place names literally. East Enterprise has no counterpart to the west. South Bend is in the north, and French Lick is nothing like you might think. Also, if a town has the same name as a foreign city ... Versailles, for example (Ver-Sigh) ... you must not pronounce it that way lest you come under suspicion as a spy. (It is pronounced Ver-SALES by true Hoosiers)
7. In order to talk sports with obsessive fans in Indiana, you have to be knowledgeable on three levels -- professional, college and high school. The truly expert Indiana sports fan knows not only the name of the hotshot center at Abercrombie and Fitch High School, but also what colleges he's interested in, how much he bench-presses, who he took to the prom, and what he got on his biology quiz last week.
8. In Indiana sports consist of Basketball and NO OTHER.
9. The best way to sell something in Indiana is to attach the term "Amish" to it.
10. Meat and Potatoes, Whole Milk and canned vegetables are the staple diet of all Hoosiers.
11. When dining out Hoosiers will always gravitate toward the "All You Can Eat Buffet" style of restaurant dining. Long tables filled with giant bowels of all starchy foods (rolls, biscuits, mashed potatoes and noodles) are preferred over buffets that just serve an excellent salad bar.

Florida Code

I received this email today and had to post it for all my Floridian readers. (I thought that sounded like I had tons of readers) It is so true!

Florida Code:

1. When giving directions in Florida you should always start with the words, "take I-75 or take I-95"
2. If you're a snowbird or a non-working retiree, you absolutely can not drive between the hours of 6 am and 10 am and 4 pm and 7 pm. This is considered to be rush hour and you're not in any rush.
3. Freeways can only go north and south, not east and west.
4. I-275 will always be under construction...that's the law. There is nothing anyone can do about it!
5. A1A and ALT A1A are the same streets.
6. We measure the distance you travel in time, not miles.
7. If you miss your exit on I-75, I-4 or I-275, it's perfectly acceptable to back up.
8. Every street in Florida has both a name and a number (IE Adamo = 60th,) just for the heck of it, and for the pleasure, we get from the reaction of visitors when we give them directions.
9. Once the light turns green, only 3 cars can go through the intersection. Eight more go through on yellow, and 4 on red.
10. Flip flops, tank tops, and baggy shorts are also known as business casual.
11. English is our first and second language.
12. It is perfectly acceptable to brag about the size of your generator.
13. There is always a Walgreen's store across the street from a CVS on almost every corner.
14. It's normal to sweat when you are putting up your holiday decorations.
15. Learn how to dress in layers. It will be 95 degrees outside - inside any restaurant or business - it's 65 degrees.
16. The same neighbor who smiles at you every day will be the first one to rat you out if you are violating water restrictions.
    
    
    
    

And life goes on...

I spent today watching television of Hurricane Gustav and the Jerry Lewis telethon and thinking about my niece who only lived for 16 months. So much heartache. So much helplessness. A hurricane, diseases and a death...that was my Labor Day. And I kept on watching, listening and remembering because that is something I can do. I can take that time out of my perfect life to not forget.

Sadness - Hurricane Gustav

It is hard to rejoice about Hurricane Gustav turning away from Florida and our area when I know somewhere someone else's life will be uprooted and torn into shreds. I'm feeling very low.

Just Another Typical Day In My Life

Today the girls and I went north 30 minutes for a doctor's appointment. After the visit we shopped at the nearby mall, had lunch, ordered some Starbucks (the girls had iced drinks, no coffee) and headed home. I had been driving about 5 minutes and was on a busy street (a street that, along with another street, made the #1 most dangerous intersection in the US list) about 2 car lengths from an intersection when my van died. Just stopped. Dead. In the middle of the center lane.

The light at the intersection was red at the moment, and I tried to restart my car. Nothing. I tried again. I like to think I was calm and rational. Usually in these situations, and unfortunately there have been a few, I panic. Remembering this, I took a deep breath, set down my peppermint mocha thousand-calories-that-I-don’t-need Starbucks coffee and tried one more time to start my car.

No, go. On the dashboard, a picture of a red oil can with a drop of oil coming from its spout lit up. I assumed that meant my van had an oil problem. I shut off the car and was stranded in the middle of a four-lane road a foot from an intersection…with two children.

Then I panicked. A little. I yelled, “Why is this happening? What do I do? What do I do? AAAAHHHH!” Talking to myself. A little pep talk if you will.

Then I calmly reached for my cell phone and dialed 911 because I have been taught to do that in emergency situations, and in my mind, sitting in a stalled car with two children while cars raced around me in hopes of making the light at the intersection in front of me, constituted as an emergency.

The 911 operator was quite helpful. She asked me if I had been involved in an accident and when she heard that wasn't the case she told me to stay on the line and she connected me to the city police non-emergency number.

Non-Emergency Lady: How can I help you?

Me: My car just died in the middle of (named) Rd. at the intersection of (named) Rd.

Lady: Is that (named) Blvd. or Rd?

Me: (looking up at the sign hanging over the street) Road.

Lady: Is your car heading East or West on (named) Rd?

Me: I was heading West.

Lady: Are you East of (named) Rd. or West of (named) Rd?

Me: (in my head) Jesus Christ Lady, who the hell cares? I’m about to be hit in the rear so could we speed things up a bit?

Me: (aloud) I am East of (named) Rd.

Lady: Have you been involved in an accident?

Me: No. My car just died. I have two children with me and the smell of gas is overpowering. Perhaps I should get out of the car.

Lady: Yes, carefully vacate the vehicle. The police will be there shortly.

At some point in the middle of this conversation, a woman appeared at my window with a cell phone. I assume she was from the apartment complex next to the road, but I don’t know. She was bringing me a phone, and after seeing I had one she stayed there with me throughout my conversation. When I finished, she helped me get the girls out of the car and together we dodged the traffic and got safely to the sidewalk. Looking back at my van flashing its hazards and sitting sadly alone in the middle of the four-lane road, I noticed a huge stain slowly spreading its way out from underneath my van. A stain that smelled suspiciously like gasoline.

The kind lady left me after I told her I was calling my Motor Club to get towing. The girls perched themselves on top of the fence that lined the sidewalk while I searched frantically for my Motor Club card. My hands were shaking, but after three searches I could not locate the card in my wallet. I did the next best thing. I called my husband. When will I learn?

Tom: All of the insurance information is in the car.

Me: I just need the Motor Club number. I can’t find mine.

Tom: We don’t have that service anymore. Our insurance company has roadside assistance.

Me: Oh, that’s why I can’t find my card. Okay, well I’ll call the insurance company.

Tom: All that information is in the glove compartment in the van. Why would you get out of the van?

Me: Uh, because it is leaking something that smells like gas and is sitting in the middle of (named) Rd.

Tom: Yeah? So why would you get out of the van?

The conversation probably would have continued in this vein for hours, but a lawn care truck with three men in it offered to push my car off of the road and I hung up. They were in the left turn lane so two of the men jumped out and joined me on the sidewalk while the driver did a U-turn and parked in the lot of a BP station eight lanes over.

The guy in charge had one working eye and one eye that might have been working, but it was working in a different place from his other eye. When I told him the police were on the way he scoffed and rolled his good eye. The other eye continued looking at me.

Take charge guy wanted to know if one of my kids could get in the driver’s seat and steer across two lanes of traffic to the left lane and make a U-turn and then another turn into the BP station without the benefit of power steering. Uh, what? I wondered if I was suppose to be involved in the pushing of the van while my kid drove, but I didn't inquire. Instead I told him that wasn’t going to happen. He suggested I steer instead. I agreed.

At this point, take charge guy started out into the road. A car sped past him, narrowly missing his feet and he jumped back onto the sidewalk and told his partner, “You stop traffic.” His partner and I leaned out over the sidewalk and looked up the road at the cars racing toward the intersection. Neither of us said a word, but neither of us made any move toward taking him up on that suggestion.

Instead, we waited a few minutes, and when the light turned red, we left the girls and trudged out to the car. I got behind the wheel and they got behind the car, and we made it into the left turn lane despite cars honking and people throwing up their arms. We had to wait through a full cycle of lights before getting the green turn arrow, and with take charge guy yelling for me to, “turn, turn, turn,” we made the U-turn and rolled into the BP station. The smell of gas was so overpowering by this time that two customers walking into the store commented on it.

I didn’t have any money to give these guys, but take charge guy assured me that they were happy to help and they drove away. I then had to go to the crosswalk and walk the eight lanes back to my children. They met me in the middle, and we got safely back to the BP station and to the car. I called the insurance company. My husband arrived. The police did not. The tow truck company called me.

Tow truck person: It will be about 35 to 40 minutes as the driver has to stop and fill up on fuel.

Me: Okay.

TTP: What is the car doing right now?

Me: (looking over at my car) Uh, it is just sitting there. (begin laughing as I realize the absurdity of this conversation) Well, he isn't having tea with the car next to him!

TTP: (laughing) I guess I should have phrased that differently.

The absurdity of the day continued, but the van did get towed, and we did get home. I was furious that the police never showed up. I was so annoyed that I ranted and raved all the way home arguing with my husband, who thought dialing 911 was stupid because it wasn't a police situation. In fact at one point he told me I was lucky they hadn't shown up as they would have ticketed me! For driving a faulty car! What?

Our argument annoyed him so much that he called his office, the sheriff's office which is where 911 operates, and he asked a supervisor what the sheriff's procedure is on a citizen who has car trouble in the middle of the road. Guess what? The sheriff's office sends out a deputy who assists in calling a tow truck, helps get the car off of the road, and stays with the citizen until said tow truck arrives! That answer alone saved my day.

And the problem with the car? A broken gas filter. Who knows how many dollars of gasoline poured out on to the street while my van sat there. But all is well......for now.

The Loss of Innocence

Today I discussed the facts of life with my oldest daughter. She had just had her yearly physical and I thought that was as good an opening as any.

The public schools give the sex talk in 5th grade so her friends outside of her school learned it this year, and because this was the year she would get the talk at her own school, I figured I should give it now. Wouldn't she rather hear things from me first?

I didn't it right. I sucked. First, I did it while I was driving home from her physical. What possessed me to do it this way? When my mother gave me the talk she used some book she'd gotten. It was way over my head but she read it to me and then discussed the things she'd read. I had once used that same book when Madison asked me questions about babies. The book is totally too advance, but it would've been better than a discussion in the car. I kept looking at her in the review mirror and she just seemed so small, drawing her legs up as she does for protection.

She knew quite a bit, but most of it was clinical. We discussed sex, transmitting diseases, and drugs. Everything I could remember that was discussed in my sex education class. Although what I remember about that was mostly the kid vomiting after doing drugs or alcohol. It looked like spoiled milk coming out of her body and the boys imitated it on the walk home from the bus stop. Over and over.

Secondly, I went far overboard. I tried to get through to her that her body was hers and that no one had the right to do anything with her body unless she agreed to it. I got a little forceful on that topic. Why did I do it that way? It was very pro-female. She cried. She said she felt weird.

I stopped in the parking lot of Target and climbed in the backseat with her. I hugged her and tried to tone down the discussion and my forcefulness. I hated myself for doing it all wrong. She cried some more and when I asked her why she was crying she said, "Because you look so sad. You look like you're going to start crying."

Yep. Sorry, kid. I probably am and will. I screwed that up for sure, but mostly I'm sad because you're growing up and I have to have this talk in the first place. No one prepared me for my firstborn to become a woman.

I'll try to do it better with your sister.