Dear Ted,
I just read where you called me and my fellow Democrats "bat-crap crazy" during your little talk at CPAC.
I really wish you hadn't done that. Not because it hurts my feelings, but because it makes you look like a small-minded crybaby of a bully. Which is not a very senatorial look. It's also admitting that you don't give a damn about a very large group of your constituents. Because make no mistake Ted: I am your constituent, just as my fellow Texas Democrats are your constituents. It also shows that you clearly think that the status quo of the last 25 or more years is still in effect. You know, the one where Texas Republicans are invincible and Texas Democrats just kind of ceded you the state. And that's also a big mistake. We are waking up and we are not going to sit quietly in the corner anymore and let you or any other elected official in this state (or this country) do whatever they want. We will be heard and respected or you and anyone else who fails to listen to us will end up dealing with us at election time.
In the meantime, let me give you a few examples of things that are truly 'bat-crap crazy':
It is bat-crap crazy to claim to be pro-life solely on the basis of your anti-abortion beliefs without also being in favor of a few other things. Such as being against the death penalty. Or being in favor of an organization, such as Planned Parenthood, which saves lives every single day by providing health care of all kinds to those who otherwise would not have access to it. It's bat-crap crazy to shut down access to birth control and education about birth control when access to those have been demonstrably proven to reduce the number of abortions. It's bat-crap crazy when you claim the pro-life high ground while you refuse to take in refugees and send them back to die at the hands of the regimes and violence they are fleeing. If you don't care and protect the child, teenager, or the adult that baby grows up to be, then you are not truly pro-life.
It's bat-crap crazy to spend money on 'bathroom' legislation, instead of spending money on public education or programs that combat human trafficking.
It's bat-crap crazy to pour billions into building a wall along the U.S. - Mexico border to keep us 'safe' from non-existent 'rapists and criminals' when our nation's infrastructure is decaying daily with no plan to repair or replace it. You want to keep people safe and create jobs? Put the money into repairing and replacing our nations roads, bridges, and dams.
It's bat-crap crazy to spend millions to deport people who have never done any harm to anyone and to separate children from their families by deporting their parents, then potentially dumping these children into our overloaded and underfunded foster care system.
It's bat-crap crazy to ban all Muslims from entering because of the actions of a few extremists. Especially when the facts show that the average American is in more danger of being killed by a toddler who finds an unsecured gun than a terrorist who entered the country illegally. (And yes, here's the stats: http://www.snopes.com/toddlers-killed-americans-terrorists/) Oh, and by the way, people who have truly studied the issue of terrorism say the main thing that will be accomplished by this ban is to make it easier for the terrorists to recruit. Hate breeds hate. So, maybe we need to think about ways to break that cycle.
It's bat-crap crazy to pass laws that allow corporations to pollute our water and earth in the name of 'creating more jobs.' Seriously? How is that going to work? Are the proposed jobs going to be in health care nursing those who get ill from the chemicals being dumped?
It's bat-crap crazy to dismantle the ACA, leaving people without coverage and potentially causing the deaths of the seriously ill who will lose their coverage without a workable plan in place. And I don't mean a plan that won't work for the neediest among us.
It's bat-crap crazy to spend millions investigating over and over again, Hillary Clinton's emails and then to refuse to investigate Trump's staffs' ties to Russia, when the red flags are clearly there. This is partisan politics of the worst kind.
It's bat-crap crazy to not stand up for a free press and to defend at all costs freedom of the press, a press that fact checks and stands against the promulgation of hatred, bigotry in all its forms, and racism.
So, based on this Ted, who's the one who is bat-crap crazy? It's sure as hell looks like it's not me. Or my fellow Democrats. So you think about it. And if you decide that you don't care about us, well, we'll see you in 2018. Actually, we'll see you before then too. At every event you hold. And we'll be calling and writing too. We've been silent too long and we are not going to go silent again.
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Peace to You.
It's Christmas Eve. In the past, I've posted a Christmas wish list, which is usually a list of things, mostly political, that I want desperately to be resolved. Given what has happened this past year, I really thought I'd be posting that again. But I'm not. Despite my despair over the result of the election and what is happening to our country, I find myself focusing instead on what I am grateful for tonight.
My sister Julia reaching six months in remission from Acute Myeloid Leukemia and also the successful removal of the two melanoma tumors she had. How wonderful is it that she is in great shape despite fighting two totally different cancers this year? I am beyond grateful for her doctors at MD Anderson who have gotten her to this point. But more than anything else I am in awe of how Julia has handled everything she faced this year. An added gift is the increased closeness to her that I have and which I treasure every day.
My relationship with my sister Jane. In the past few years, with all that has gone on in my life, the losses I have faced and dealt with, never did I imagine that it would be this sister who would be my bulwark and the one I could turn to. I can only hope that I have been a tiny fraction of a similar resource for her.
My immediate family. Last night, I was blessed to have a sleepover with my two darling granddaughters and one of my daughters. And tonight, all three of my children, my lovely daughter-in-law, and those granddaughters were at my house for dinner and Christmas present opening. Laughing and playing with them and my husband tonight, I was able to put aside the despair of the past few months and revel in the moments we shared. Tonight reminded me that, despite whatever else is going on in the world, I have children and grandchildren who are the epitome of love and understanding. And yes, I know, everyone thinks their children are wonderful. But my daughters and son truly are. I see how they interact with each other and with the world and it gives me hope. Hope that they will be difference that changes the world. Even if it is just the tiny part of the world around them.
So, this Christmas, I wish you the peace that I have tonight. I hope that you will look around you and see the tiny, and hopefully large, joys of life. That you have that person or people in your life who are there to support you. And if, for whatever reason, you are living in darkness tonight due to whatever difficulty, that the coming year will bring you peace and joy in some form or fashion.
Merry Christmas to you all. And together, we will make a difference in the new year.
My sister Julia reaching six months in remission from Acute Myeloid Leukemia and also the successful removal of the two melanoma tumors she had. How wonderful is it that she is in great shape despite fighting two totally different cancers this year? I am beyond grateful for her doctors at MD Anderson who have gotten her to this point. But more than anything else I am in awe of how Julia has handled everything she faced this year. An added gift is the increased closeness to her that I have and which I treasure every day.
My relationship with my sister Jane. In the past few years, with all that has gone on in my life, the losses I have faced and dealt with, never did I imagine that it would be this sister who would be my bulwark and the one I could turn to. I can only hope that I have been a tiny fraction of a similar resource for her.
My immediate family. Last night, I was blessed to have a sleepover with my two darling granddaughters and one of my daughters. And tonight, all three of my children, my lovely daughter-in-law, and those granddaughters were at my house for dinner and Christmas present opening. Laughing and playing with them and my husband tonight, I was able to put aside the despair of the past few months and revel in the moments we shared. Tonight reminded me that, despite whatever else is going on in the world, I have children and grandchildren who are the epitome of love and understanding. And yes, I know, everyone thinks their children are wonderful. But my daughters and son truly are. I see how they interact with each other and with the world and it gives me hope. Hope that they will be difference that changes the world. Even if it is just the tiny part of the world around them.
So, this Christmas, I wish you the peace that I have tonight. I hope that you will look around you and see the tiny, and hopefully large, joys of life. That you have that person or people in your life who are there to support you. And if, for whatever reason, you are living in darkness tonight due to whatever difficulty, that the coming year will bring you peace and joy in some form or fashion.
Merry Christmas to you all. And together, we will make a difference in the new year.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
The Legitimization of Hate
It has been coming on slowly, but inexorably. The legitimization of hatred.
Hatred in the form of racism.
Hatred in the form of religious intolerance.
Hatred in the form of sexism.
Hatred in all its ugly forms.
It is clear that for far too many, the lessons I thought the world had learned of inclusiveness — love of one's neighbor despite his or her race, gender, or religion — have fallen by the wayside, or worse yet, never truly took root in people's hearts.
What is particularly appalling to me about the resurgence of this racism, sexism and bigotry is that many of those who I see and hear expressing it are people of my generation. People, who lived through the Civil Rights movement and who saw, either first hand or in the media of the day, the injustice of segregation and racism of the 50s, 60s and 70s. These same people are now openly expressing views that are encouraging and espousing a return to the 'good old days'. Yes, the good old days. When white men were in full control and anyone who was different due to race, religion, sexual preferences, or gender didn't dare to show it. When women knew their place and it wasn't in the workplace. A time that to these discontented few, who blame others for their unhappiness and life choices, is the epitome of what America should be. "Make America Great Again!" they cry, envisioning no doubt a new idyllic America where things are again as they should be. Where straight, white, so-called Christian males rule, those who aren't the privileged few know their place, and conservative Christian religions are the 'real' faith of the country. Where those who 'don't belong' in our country due to their religion or race are rounded up and taken away.
There actually once was a place that sought to make that particular vision a reality. It was called Nazi Germany.
To me, the greatest sin Donald Trump has committed during his presidential campaign is this legitimization of hate. The true mortal sin of his campaign is the way he has unleashed and vocalized the hatred of the small minded on the country and the world. Once it was unacceptable, thanks in part to 'political correctness', to voice these toxic thoughts. But now, given permission by Trump to vocalize their hatred without apology or an attempt to hide it behind a routine unmeaning protest, one hears again the casual racism and intolerance of my youth coming out of the mouths of people who should know better. And Trump and his followers wrap that hatred in patriotism and the flag.
If you vote for anyone who openly espouses these views as openly and loudly as Mr. Trump has done, then you are guilty of contributing to the legitimization of hatred too. And you do not get a pass because you happen to favor his proposed policies: economic, social, or international.
Hatred in the form of racism.
Hatred in the form of religious intolerance.
Hatred in the form of sexism.
Hatred in all its ugly forms.
It is clear that for far too many, the lessons I thought the world had learned of inclusiveness — love of one's neighbor despite his or her race, gender, or religion — have fallen by the wayside, or worse yet, never truly took root in people's hearts.
What is particularly appalling to me about the resurgence of this racism, sexism and bigotry is that many of those who I see and hear expressing it are people of my generation. People, who lived through the Civil Rights movement and who saw, either first hand or in the media of the day, the injustice of segregation and racism of the 50s, 60s and 70s. These same people are now openly expressing views that are encouraging and espousing a return to the 'good old days'. Yes, the good old days. When white men were in full control and anyone who was different due to race, religion, sexual preferences, or gender didn't dare to show it. When women knew their place and it wasn't in the workplace. A time that to these discontented few, who blame others for their unhappiness and life choices, is the epitome of what America should be. "Make America Great Again!" they cry, envisioning no doubt a new idyllic America where things are again as they should be. Where straight, white, so-called Christian males rule, those who aren't the privileged few know their place, and conservative Christian religions are the 'real' faith of the country. Where those who 'don't belong' in our country due to their religion or race are rounded up and taken away.
There actually once was a place that sought to make that particular vision a reality. It was called Nazi Germany.
To me, the greatest sin Donald Trump has committed during his presidential campaign is this legitimization of hate. The true mortal sin of his campaign is the way he has unleashed and vocalized the hatred of the small minded on the country and the world. Once it was unacceptable, thanks in part to 'political correctness', to voice these toxic thoughts. But now, given permission by Trump to vocalize their hatred without apology or an attempt to hide it behind a routine unmeaning protest, one hears again the casual racism and intolerance of my youth coming out of the mouths of people who should know better. And Trump and his followers wrap that hatred in patriotism and the flag.
If you vote for anyone who openly espouses these views as openly and loudly as Mr. Trump has done, then you are guilty of contributing to the legitimization of hatred too. And you do not get a pass because you happen to favor his proposed policies: economic, social, or international.
Monday, August 01, 2016
America's Bully
I was bullied as a child. Starting in third grade when we moved to Kenedy, Texas until I left almost immediately after my high school graduation, I was bullied by my classmates. Over 50 years ago, when I met my tormentors for the first time, there was little to nothing done about bullying by teachers or the school administration. My mother, a fourth grade teacher at the school, did nothing but tell me to "Ignore them. If you react, they'll keep doing it because they want the reaction." Well, I did my best for 10 years to ignore them. But the truth is that the verbal attacks and deliberate slights never stopped no matter what I did.
I tell you this because my experience factors in to why I loathe and fear Donald Trump and will do whatever it takes to prevent him from winning the presidential election this November.
I realize that many factors go into creating a bully, especially one of this caliber. I have no idea what was done to this man to make him this way, but to be honest at this point having read and listened to the unceasing vitriol, misogyny, racism, bigotry and belittling remarks he spews to anyone who dares to disagree with him, I find that I really don't care. Getting to the bottom of his issues is a job for a highly skilled mental health professional and will no doubt take years to unravel, much less remedy. What I do care about is what someone like him, so clearly unstable, with an inclination towards violence and out of touch with reality, will do to this country I love.
To me it is very clear that my mother's advice from all those years ago cannot apply to Mr. Trump. We cannot ignore him and hope he will go away. Because as I found out the hard way, ignoring the bullies just gives them permission to continue their reigns of terror. I will never know if my childhood would have been better if I had stood up to the bullies and not let them define my youth. But I will not risk the future of my children and grandchildren being ruined by an unstable bully with a global arena of potential victims. I will speak up and stand up for what I think is right.
I tell you this because my experience factors in to why I loathe and fear Donald Trump and will do whatever it takes to prevent him from winning the presidential election this November.
I realize that many factors go into creating a bully, especially one of this caliber. I have no idea what was done to this man to make him this way, but to be honest at this point having read and listened to the unceasing vitriol, misogyny, racism, bigotry and belittling remarks he spews to anyone who dares to disagree with him, I find that I really don't care. Getting to the bottom of his issues is a job for a highly skilled mental health professional and will no doubt take years to unravel, much less remedy. What I do care about is what someone like him, so clearly unstable, with an inclination towards violence and out of touch with reality, will do to this country I love.
To me it is very clear that my mother's advice from all those years ago cannot apply to Mr. Trump. We cannot ignore him and hope he will go away. Because as I found out the hard way, ignoring the bullies just gives them permission to continue their reigns of terror. I will never know if my childhood would have been better if I had stood up to the bullies and not let them define my youth. But I will not risk the future of my children and grandchildren being ruined by an unstable bully with a global arena of potential victims. I will speak up and stand up for what I think is right.
Friday, December 18, 2015
All I want for Christmas
Yes, it's been a while. But I'm back again. And with a Christmas List of things I really, really want. Unfortunately, I have serious doubts about whether Santa Claus will be able to deliver on my list this year. But as my dear Uncle CC used to say, "You'll never know if you don't ask." So, I'm asking for:
1. A ban on media coverage of that billionaire idiot who is running for President. Yeah, him. That guy. Whose team should really confiscate his cell phone and shut down his twitter account. But failing that happening, I don't think it's too much to ask that the news media simply stop giving him the type of air play that keeps this idiot alive in the polls and makes him feel invincible. So, please. Stop. Stop filming him. Stop telling us what he's saying. Stop allowing him to encourage those who are supporting him to hate anyone that is different from them. Just walk away and don't give his hate and racism a forum. Because clearly all the coverage you're giving him, in a misguided attempt to show the world what an idiot he is, isn't working.
2. America to be great. A big part of the Presidential campaign rhetoric seems to be focused on 'making America great again.' But based on what I'm hearing from those candidates focused on that issue, if we're looking to be great again, they are steering us in the wrong direction. To me, a great America is an America that doesn't discriminate against ANY person on the basis of religion, gender, race, or any other qualifier. A great America doesn't look for ways to remove rights from any group. A great America guarantees equal rights for all. A great America would not be the bully in the room, but the country who protects others from bullies and protects all people, even those who just happen to also belong to a religion that has members who distort the teachings of that religion to justify violence against others.
3. A focus on better role models for young girls. C'mon. Do you really want your daughter to grow up to be the next Kardashian or 'real' housewife? Or do you want her to grow up and be known for her contributions to computer science, to technology, to literature, to math, to film, to medicine, to science, to diplomacy, to art, to drama, or any of the myriad professions available to her?
4. My fellow Texans to stop electing idiots. Like Greg Abbot. Like Dan Patrick. Like Ted Cruz. Ad nauseum.
5. Every leader/pastor/reverand/iman/rabbi/man or woman of God who preaches hate of any type aimed at any other religion/group/belief system to stop it. Hate breeds hate. When you preach hate you are doing evil's work, not God's and I venture to predict that you will indeed someday get your just reward for assisting evil.
6. Religion to get out of politics. Or to be specific, I think it's time that the Republican party stopped taking instructions from and catering to the conservative religious fanatics. Which I find extremely ironic since I can remember when JFK was running for president, how one of the GOP's main objections to him was their fear that since he was Catholic, he would be following orders from a religious leader (aka the Pope). I'd also like to remind people yet again that freedom of religion is just that. Freedom to worship in the faith of your choice without fear. Or not worship if that is your choice. This 'we're a Christian nation and so Christian beliefs take precedence over others in our political system' is a dangerous path to go down. Think Nazi Germany people.
Merry Christmas y'all.
1. A ban on media coverage of that billionaire idiot who is running for President. Yeah, him. That guy. Whose team should really confiscate his cell phone and shut down his twitter account. But failing that happening, I don't think it's too much to ask that the news media simply stop giving him the type of air play that keeps this idiot alive in the polls and makes him feel invincible. So, please. Stop. Stop filming him. Stop telling us what he's saying. Stop allowing him to encourage those who are supporting him to hate anyone that is different from them. Just walk away and don't give his hate and racism a forum. Because clearly all the coverage you're giving him, in a misguided attempt to show the world what an idiot he is, isn't working.
2. America to be great. A big part of the Presidential campaign rhetoric seems to be focused on 'making America great again.' But based on what I'm hearing from those candidates focused on that issue, if we're looking to be great again, they are steering us in the wrong direction. To me, a great America is an America that doesn't discriminate against ANY person on the basis of religion, gender, race, or any other qualifier. A great America doesn't look for ways to remove rights from any group. A great America guarantees equal rights for all. A great America would not be the bully in the room, but the country who protects others from bullies and protects all people, even those who just happen to also belong to a religion that has members who distort the teachings of that religion to justify violence against others.
3. A focus on better role models for young girls. C'mon. Do you really want your daughter to grow up to be the next Kardashian or 'real' housewife? Or do you want her to grow up and be known for her contributions to computer science, to technology, to literature, to math, to film, to medicine, to science, to diplomacy, to art, to drama, or any of the myriad professions available to her?
4. My fellow Texans to stop electing idiots. Like Greg Abbot. Like Dan Patrick. Like Ted Cruz. Ad nauseum.
5. Every leader/pastor/reverand/iman/rabbi/man or woman of God who preaches hate of any type aimed at any other religion/group/belief system to stop it. Hate breeds hate. When you preach hate you are doing evil's work, not God's and I venture to predict that you will indeed someday get your just reward for assisting evil.
6. Religion to get out of politics. Or to be specific, I think it's time that the Republican party stopped taking instructions from and catering to the conservative religious fanatics. Which I find extremely ironic since I can remember when JFK was running for president, how one of the GOP's main objections to him was their fear that since he was Catholic, he would be following orders from a religious leader (aka the Pope). I'd also like to remind people yet again that freedom of religion is just that. Freedom to worship in the faith of your choice without fear. Or not worship if that is your choice. This 'we're a Christian nation and so Christian beliefs take precedence over others in our political system' is a dangerous path to go down. Think Nazi Germany people.
Merry Christmas y'all.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
A Moment of Grace
Let's face it. 2014 was, for the most part, just awful for me. Given that I've cried enough, I'm not going to subject you to a look back to all that. I am going to list a few things I'm grateful for over the past year.
I'm thinner. Much thinner. Not as thin as I'd hoped I'd be by now, but that's okay. Especially as after I lost the weight, I kept it off. I restarted the diet this week and have a new goal to reach in 2015. I'm ready to get the rest of the weight off.
I'm three weeks away from being released from this boot and being allowed to drive again. I can't wait. But I must thank all those who helped me through this. From Larry, who has dealt not only with feeding and transporting me, to Michael, Sarah, Sara, and Emily who jumped in and helped with a wide array of tasks when I was first unable to do anything at the house, to our friends and family who brought us food, to the students at the school where I work who simply opened doors for me to wheel or hobble through.
The people at work. The events of this year have meant that I've had to work remotely on occasion and they were supportive through it all. Being able to work from various locales and with adjusted schedules helped me keep a bit of much needed normalcy in my life throughout everything that happened.
Our redone space in the house. Over the summer, I redid our entry hall, living and dining room completely. It was a project I had in my head for over a year and it's done now, aside from finding the perfect dining table and chairs. The finishing touch for me though are the new light fixtures which my sister Jane gave me for Christmas. I still can't believe she sent me my dream lighting for these rooms. It's beyond perfect for these rooms. And they wouldn't be sparkling in these rooms if Larry and my son Michael hadn't spent quite a bit of time installing them. Working on these rooms was therapy for me following the death of my sister MC and now that they are done, being in them continues to sooth me, giving me a peaceful, beautiful space to sit and read or sew or just think.
My granddaughters. Luci and Ellen are pure love. I hold them and cannot believe how lucky I am to have them in my life.
My husband. It's been a tough year and I am not an easy person to live with normally, much less when I am deeply unhappy as I have been for too long.
My sisters. All of them. Mary Claire taught me so much. And being part of a team with Julia and Jane, heartbreaking as our appointed task was, was life altering. I've always loved them. But that love is deepened now by our shared experience.
My children. Who continue to love me. I hope they know how much I love them.
I'm thinner. Much thinner. Not as thin as I'd hoped I'd be by now, but that's okay. Especially as after I lost the weight, I kept it off. I restarted the diet this week and have a new goal to reach in 2015. I'm ready to get the rest of the weight off.
I'm three weeks away from being released from this boot and being allowed to drive again. I can't wait. But I must thank all those who helped me through this. From Larry, who has dealt not only with feeding and transporting me, to Michael, Sarah, Sara, and Emily who jumped in and helped with a wide array of tasks when I was first unable to do anything at the house, to our friends and family who brought us food, to the students at the school where I work who simply opened doors for me to wheel or hobble through.
The people at work. The events of this year have meant that I've had to work remotely on occasion and they were supportive through it all. Being able to work from various locales and with adjusted schedules helped me keep a bit of much needed normalcy in my life throughout everything that happened.
Our redone space in the house. Over the summer, I redid our entry hall, living and dining room completely. It was a project I had in my head for over a year and it's done now, aside from finding the perfect dining table and chairs. The finishing touch for me though are the new light fixtures which my sister Jane gave me for Christmas. I still can't believe she sent me my dream lighting for these rooms. It's beyond perfect for these rooms. And they wouldn't be sparkling in these rooms if Larry and my son Michael hadn't spent quite a bit of time installing them. Working on these rooms was therapy for me following the death of my sister MC and now that they are done, being in them continues to sooth me, giving me a peaceful, beautiful space to sit and read or sew or just think.
My granddaughters. Luci and Ellen are pure love. I hold them and cannot believe how lucky I am to have them in my life.
My husband. It's been a tough year and I am not an easy person to live with normally, much less when I am deeply unhappy as I have been for too long.
My sisters. All of them. Mary Claire taught me so much. And being part of a team with Julia and Jane, heartbreaking as our appointed task was, was life altering. I've always loved them. But that love is deepened now by our shared experience.
My children. Who continue to love me. I hope they know how much I love them.
Saturday, November 01, 2014
A Three Month Sentence
More reason to hate 2014. Last Monday I went for the two week follow up visit with my surgeon. I was foolishly optimistic. I went in thinking that I could positive attitude myself through this. If I had a positive attitude, I could pull it all together and get my life back as early as Thanksgiving week.
What a pathetic fool I am.
The good news is, the stitches came out and the xrays look great. The bad news is the truth told to me by the surgeon. Because I was told to not put any weight on the damn leg, I didn't move anything within the splint for those two weeks because I was afraid of messing something up. And as a result, the muscles/tendons/whatever in my ankle have tightened up and need help. As in 'aggressive' physical therapy three times a week for six weeks. Which I can't even start for another week and a half! And which I will have to take time off from work to do as the physical therapy facility's last appointment of the day is at 4:00 pm. I also won't be seeing my surgeon again for six weeks. During which time I am not to put any weight on the injured leg. At all. And then to add insult to my injury, I asked when I will be able to drive again, thinking 'the minute I can put weight on this foot again'. And I was wrong again. Best case scenario is three months and that's only if at three months I can put my full weight on the leg and have full flexibility in the leg/ankle will he clear me to drive. Three months during which I cannot drive myself anywhere in my mini cooper. Three months when I have to rely on someone (mainly my husband who does have a job of his own) to drive me literally everywhere. Work. Physical therapy. Doctor appointments. Stores. You name it.
As I sat in the exam room taking it all in, I started to look around for something to hurl at the wall and break. Because I was so angry and frustrated. Luckily, there was nothing within reach. But I'm still angry and frustrated. I am used to being independent and doing everything for myself. I'm used to doing things for others, not having things done for me. And right now, there is so much I can't do. And it's not that I am not beyond grateful to everyone who has been helping me. I am beyond grateful. But I am having a very, very hard time getting past the frustration of being helpless. And afraid. Afraid of getting in a rush and falling again and making it worse. Afraid it will take even longer for me to get my life back.
What a pathetic fool I am.
The good news is, the stitches came out and the xrays look great. The bad news is the truth told to me by the surgeon. Because I was told to not put any weight on the damn leg, I didn't move anything within the splint for those two weeks because I was afraid of messing something up. And as a result, the muscles/tendons/whatever in my ankle have tightened up and need help. As in 'aggressive' physical therapy three times a week for six weeks. Which I can't even start for another week and a half! And which I will have to take time off from work to do as the physical therapy facility's last appointment of the day is at 4:00 pm. I also won't be seeing my surgeon again for six weeks. During which time I am not to put any weight on the injured leg. At all. And then to add insult to my injury, I asked when I will be able to drive again, thinking 'the minute I can put weight on this foot again'. And I was wrong again. Best case scenario is three months and that's only if at three months I can put my full weight on the leg and have full flexibility in the leg/ankle will he clear me to drive. Three months during which I cannot drive myself anywhere in my mini cooper. Three months when I have to rely on someone (mainly my husband who does have a job of his own) to drive me literally everywhere. Work. Physical therapy. Doctor appointments. Stores. You name it.
As I sat in the exam room taking it all in, I started to look around for something to hurl at the wall and break. Because I was so angry and frustrated. Luckily, there was nothing within reach. But I'm still angry and frustrated. I am used to being independent and doing everything for myself. I'm used to doing things for others, not having things done for me. And right now, there is so much I can't do. And it's not that I am not beyond grateful to everyone who has been helping me. I am beyond grateful. But I am having a very, very hard time getting past the frustration of being helpless. And afraid. Afraid of getting in a rush and falling again and making it worse. Afraid it will take even longer for me to get my life back.
Friday, October 24, 2014
An Expedition to Deepest, Darkest Borneo
Or My Return to Work with a Broken Leg
After being discharged from the hospital late on Tuesday night last week, I spent Wednesday and Thursday adjusting to being home and figuring out the basics of having a broken leg in this house. Family and neighbors fed us. Essential changes were made to make things a little easier for me, and I started to build up my strength. On Tuesday night I announced my goal of being at work by that Friday.
My husband refrained from asking, "Are you insane??" and did not make plans to spike my tea on Friday morning w/ an extra dose of the codeine based pain killer I was given. Instead he was a good sport and listened to my reasons for wanting to jump back in so soon. My reasons were simple and, I think, valid. On Friday, a meeting was scheduled with the marketing firm that has been examining and exploring the school where I work with the goal of providing us w/ new creative for our marketing efforts. This process has been a months long effort and Friday was the day the committee I am on was to see the design options they had created after all of this research, observation and input. As I will be one of those working with these new designs, I naturally wanted to be there for the unveiling.
Now, our technology department could have arranged for me to attend the meeting remotely. And normally, I'm the first to accept a technology solution to a problem, any problem. But in this case, I told my husband, I really wanted to be in the room to see it unfold and to actually witness the reactions of my coworkers. And to be a part of the moment. And he got it.
So, we made our preparations. Thursday night, he became my shampooist, wheeling me into the kitchen and washing my hair as I stood on my good leg with my head bent over the sink. Then he wheeled me into position in front of our closet mirror so I could dry my hair.
Friday morning arrived. We had planned that we would shoot to arrive at the school a little before 9:45, which wold give us time to get me in, get him set up in my office for the day and get me into the conference room in time for the meeting. To do that, we'd need to be in the car by 9:15. So, we get up and he fixed me my tea and English muffin. I ate and took my meds and gave myself the shot I have to take as a result of this little debacle. We did a little dance getting ready. Normally, I leave before he has to get into the shower. This day was more than a bit different. This was the first time I'd worn makeup since the accident, so everything had to be brought to me and there was no room on my nightstand due to all the meds I was taking. Also, my hair was looking significantly worse since I had dried it the night before. So, he had to set up my flat iron and bring the wheelchair so I could see what I was doing in the closet mirror. Once we were finally both dressed and ready, it was time for my first trip out to the car since coming home. We gathered everything up we thought we might need. Pillows to elevate my leg in the back seat of the car. My laptop case. My purse. My meds for the day. A shawl to throw over my legs while sitting in the wheelchair in my skirt. His backpack with his computer and other essentials to work. My walker, in case I needed it instead of the wheelchair to get somewhere at work. We really didn't know what I would need to get around best.
We piled everything on top of my lap and on the side of my seat except the walker and he wheeled me into our entry hall, then went to back the car down the driveway to the sidewalk. Once back in the house, he got me out, not w/ a ramp but with what I considered to be a rather dubious assortment of random lumber from the garage arranged to 'step down' the wheelchair to the pavement from the threshold. My verdict was that while it was a slight improvement, I still wanted a ramp. But he got me to the car and I managed to get into the back seat, hoist myself across the seat to the other side and fastened in and my leg up on pillows while he fit the walker and wheelchair into the trunk.
Thirty minutes later we pulled into the gate at the school. After a bit of business w/ the security guards, including being told to put on my badge (it's still in my Mini Cooper), we parked and began the process of extracting me from the car and unloading the wheelchair w/ me and my stuff.
We finally got me and my stuff into the building and made our way to my office. After a few of the welcome back/what happened to you conversations, Larry settled me in the conference room for the meeting and headed off to do his own work in my office.
I am happy to say that I was right about going in for this meeting. It was so much better being there in person to see the work and the reactions of everyone. It wasn't easy, but as first days back to work after an injury like this go, it wasn't bad. I will report that we did not need the walker, but did need the pillows. I texted Larry a little after 2 hours in and asked him to bring me one to put under my elevated leg. He handled it smoothly, handing the pillow in through the door and was accomplished, I hope, with a minimum of fuss. After the meeting ended around 2 pm, I hung around to help to get some information to some of the others that they needed. Then we loaded up me in the wheelchair and headed out for home.
Since then, we have streamlined the process. So, it's not nearly as big a deal though it's still not exactly a breeze. It helps that I am regaining a lot of strength and stamina. I also admit that I probably pushed it on that Friday going back so soon, only six days after breaking my leg and having surgery. But I wouldn't have missed being in that room for that meeting.
After being discharged from the hospital late on Tuesday night last week, I spent Wednesday and Thursday adjusting to being home and figuring out the basics of having a broken leg in this house. Family and neighbors fed us. Essential changes were made to make things a little easier for me, and I started to build up my strength. On Tuesday night I announced my goal of being at work by that Friday.
My husband refrained from asking, "Are you insane??" and did not make plans to spike my tea on Friday morning w/ an extra dose of the codeine based pain killer I was given. Instead he was a good sport and listened to my reasons for wanting to jump back in so soon. My reasons were simple and, I think, valid. On Friday, a meeting was scheduled with the marketing firm that has been examining and exploring the school where I work with the goal of providing us w/ new creative for our marketing efforts. This process has been a months long effort and Friday was the day the committee I am on was to see the design options they had created after all of this research, observation and input. As I will be one of those working with these new designs, I naturally wanted to be there for the unveiling.
Now, our technology department could have arranged for me to attend the meeting remotely. And normally, I'm the first to accept a technology solution to a problem, any problem. But in this case, I told my husband, I really wanted to be in the room to see it unfold and to actually witness the reactions of my coworkers. And to be a part of the moment. And he got it.
So, we made our preparations. Thursday night, he became my shampooist, wheeling me into the kitchen and washing my hair as I stood on my good leg with my head bent over the sink. Then he wheeled me into position in front of our closet mirror so I could dry my hair.
Friday morning arrived. We had planned that we would shoot to arrive at the school a little before 9:45, which wold give us time to get me in, get him set up in my office for the day and get me into the conference room in time for the meeting. To do that, we'd need to be in the car by 9:15. So, we get up and he fixed me my tea and English muffin. I ate and took my meds and gave myself the shot I have to take as a result of this little debacle. We did a little dance getting ready. Normally, I leave before he has to get into the shower. This day was more than a bit different. This was the first time I'd worn makeup since the accident, so everything had to be brought to me and there was no room on my nightstand due to all the meds I was taking. Also, my hair was looking significantly worse since I had dried it the night before. So, he had to set up my flat iron and bring the wheelchair so I could see what I was doing in the closet mirror. Once we were finally both dressed and ready, it was time for my first trip out to the car since coming home. We gathered everything up we thought we might need. Pillows to elevate my leg in the back seat of the car. My laptop case. My purse. My meds for the day. A shawl to throw over my legs while sitting in the wheelchair in my skirt. His backpack with his computer and other essentials to work. My walker, in case I needed it instead of the wheelchair to get somewhere at work. We really didn't know what I would need to get around best.
We piled everything on top of my lap and on the side of my seat except the walker and he wheeled me into our entry hall, then went to back the car down the driveway to the sidewalk. Once back in the house, he got me out, not w/ a ramp but with what I considered to be a rather dubious assortment of random lumber from the garage arranged to 'step down' the wheelchair to the pavement from the threshold. My verdict was that while it was a slight improvement, I still wanted a ramp. But he got me to the car and I managed to get into the back seat, hoist myself across the seat to the other side and fastened in and my leg up on pillows while he fit the walker and wheelchair into the trunk.
Thirty minutes later we pulled into the gate at the school. After a bit of business w/ the security guards, including being told to put on my badge (it's still in my Mini Cooper), we parked and began the process of extracting me from the car and unloading the wheelchair w/ me and my stuff.
We finally got me and my stuff into the building and made our way to my office. After a few of the welcome back/what happened to you conversations, Larry settled me in the conference room for the meeting and headed off to do his own work in my office.
I am happy to say that I was right about going in for this meeting. It was so much better being there in person to see the work and the reactions of everyone. It wasn't easy, but as first days back to work after an injury like this go, it wasn't bad. I will report that we did not need the walker, but did need the pillows. I texted Larry a little after 2 hours in and asked him to bring me one to put under my elevated leg. He handled it smoothly, handing the pillow in through the door and was accomplished, I hope, with a minimum of fuss. After the meeting ended around 2 pm, I hung around to help to get some information to some of the others that they needed. Then we loaded up me in the wheelchair and headed out for home.
Since then, we have streamlined the process. So, it's not nearly as big a deal though it's still not exactly a breeze. It helps that I am regaining a lot of strength and stamina. I also admit that I probably pushed it on that Friday going back so soon, only six days after breaking my leg and having surgery. But I wouldn't have missed being in that room for that meeting.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
An Unexpected Detour
One false step. Just one false step. And this is me right now.
Eight days ago, I was at a friend's house for a lovely evening filled with fabulous food, dear friends, and a lot of fun just sitting around talking to each other. Then, as I was headed out to our car, I stepped out of their gate and missed a step.
Ending up on the ground in a heap with a right leg that was screaming with pain. As I seemed overall okay with no visible bruises, just in a bit of shock from the fall, my husband began to urge me to try to get up. So, I finally raised myself up on my hands and in doing so caught a good look at my lower right leg. "It's broken," I said. And everyone concurred when they looked at it.
So, a long night followed which involved a ride in an ambulance to the Houston Med Center, hours in the ER in a treatment room waiting to be treated, including having two level one trauma cases right next to me on the other side of a screen in the treatment room (one made it, one didn't to my sorrow), admittance to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, followed by surgery on my leg. In the days since, I've had evil physical therapists (who had my welfare at heart) trying to get me to hop up on a three inch tall platform using my walker and doing it without touching my broken leg to the ground. (I flatly refused to jump, finally telling them that we would get a ramp for the front door threshold.)
And now, about a week and a half later, I'm figuring this out somewhat. It has not been easy. The timing of this little accident has not been optimal (when is it?) and I have quite a bit of guilt over some things that I have not been able to do as a result of being out of commission for several days. I have another 5 to 7 weeks approximately to go. And even once I'm okayed to walk again, will almost certainly have to have physical therapy. But I'll cope. We'll cope actually, as this is really a family effort and also, to a certain extent, an effort that involves my friends and co-workers as well. For which I am profoundly grateful.
Eight days ago, I was at a friend's house for a lovely evening filled with fabulous food, dear friends, and a lot of fun just sitting around talking to each other. Then, as I was headed out to our car, I stepped out of their gate and missed a step.
Ending up on the ground in a heap with a right leg that was screaming with pain. As I seemed overall okay with no visible bruises, just in a bit of shock from the fall, my husband began to urge me to try to get up. So, I finally raised myself up on my hands and in doing so caught a good look at my lower right leg. "It's broken," I said. And everyone concurred when they looked at it.
So, a long night followed which involved a ride in an ambulance to the Houston Med Center, hours in the ER in a treatment room waiting to be treated, including having two level one trauma cases right next to me on the other side of a screen in the treatment room (one made it, one didn't to my sorrow), admittance to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, followed by surgery on my leg. In the days since, I've had evil physical therapists (who had my welfare at heart) trying to get me to hop up on a three inch tall platform using my walker and doing it without touching my broken leg to the ground. (I flatly refused to jump, finally telling them that we would get a ramp for the front door threshold.)
And now, about a week and a half later, I'm figuring this out somewhat. It has not been easy. The timing of this little accident has not been optimal (when is it?) and I have quite a bit of guilt over some things that I have not been able to do as a result of being out of commission for several days. I have another 5 to 7 weeks approximately to go. And even once I'm okayed to walk again, will almost certainly have to have physical therapy. But I'll cope. We'll cope actually, as this is really a family effort and also, to a certain extent, an effort that involves my friends and co-workers as well. For which I am profoundly grateful.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Forty Years Later...
Forty years ago, in 1974, there was an extremely active movement in the United States to get the Equal Rights Amendment ratified so that it would become the law of the land. That "Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex." There was a deadline looming for ratification by the states of this amendment and though I was just in high school, I was a fervent supporter of the effort. And I remember an argument I got into on the subject of equal pay for equal work with the guy who was my boyfriend back then.
Forty years later, the Equal Rights Amendment still has not become the law of the land. Despite numerous efforts, gender equality in the United States does not exist. It doesn't exist anywhere in the world.
Forty years later there are still people, like my ex boyfriend, who believe that women should not be given equal pay for equal work. (By the way, he still should be thankful that I opted to just order him out of the house rather than sew his mouth shut after he voiced that opinion. I was at Mom's sewing machine at the time and was tempted beyond measure to just take care of his idiocy with a few stitches.)
Earlier this week, the UN launched an new campaign called He For She. It's aimed at gaining gender equality throughout the world for once and for all. Because that's really what equal rights is all about. It's not just about women having the same rights as men. It's about everyone having the same rights. It's about men being able to do what they need to do for their families, for their children, without being considered 'unmanly'. It is about joining together and finally, finally, not discriminating against anyone because they are male or female. To have the same rights no matter if you are male or female. We must change the stereotypes that we define men and women by and allow each man and woman to be equal under the law. Equal access to family leave. Equal access to pay. Equal in every way.
Earlier this week, I shared a link to a video of Emma Watson making an impassioned plea at the UN for this initiative to my facebook page. Looking at my recent posts, photos of a carrot cake I baked received 15 more 'likes' than my post about this critical issue. Am I annoyed? Hell yes. This is literally a life and death issue for women around the world. Women and young girls are actively being attacked for trying to get an education in certain areas of the world. What is wrong with us when a damn cake gets more attention than an issue of human rights? We are talking about the right to vote. The right to be paid a fair and living wage. The right to an education. The right to be viewed as a human being who has value and to not have that value denigrated because of what sex you just happen to be.
Yes, I'm sure that those of you who are conservative and religious tend to think 'equal rights = feminism = abortion rights.' And you are so wrong if you think that is what this campaign is about. Because it is not. It is about treating EVERYONE with respect no matter if they are male or female and giving everyone the right to make decisions about their lives. So, I'm asking that you go to the website for this initiative and make a commitment to support this effort. Educate yourself about what this campaign is actually about. Educate yourself about the truth of what women are subjected to in terms of acts of violence against women, the lack of educational opportunities for women, the gap in pay for women and all the other issues this initiative is about.
It is time to stop the war of the sexes and create a world where our sons and daughters will treat each other with respect. No matter where they live. This is the world I want for my son, my daughters, my daughter-in-law, and my grandchildren. Give it to them and to your children and grandchildren. Give it to the world.
Here's the link: http://www.heforshe.org/
Forty years later, the Equal Rights Amendment still has not become the law of the land. Despite numerous efforts, gender equality in the United States does not exist. It doesn't exist anywhere in the world.
Forty years later there are still people, like my ex boyfriend, who believe that women should not be given equal pay for equal work. (By the way, he still should be thankful that I opted to just order him out of the house rather than sew his mouth shut after he voiced that opinion. I was at Mom's sewing machine at the time and was tempted beyond measure to just take care of his idiocy with a few stitches.)
Earlier this week, the UN launched an new campaign called He For She. It's aimed at gaining gender equality throughout the world for once and for all. Because that's really what equal rights is all about. It's not just about women having the same rights as men. It's about everyone having the same rights. It's about men being able to do what they need to do for their families, for their children, without being considered 'unmanly'. It is about joining together and finally, finally, not discriminating against anyone because they are male or female. To have the same rights no matter if you are male or female. We must change the stereotypes that we define men and women by and allow each man and woman to be equal under the law. Equal access to family leave. Equal access to pay. Equal in every way.
Earlier this week, I shared a link to a video of Emma Watson making an impassioned plea at the UN for this initiative to my facebook page. Looking at my recent posts, photos of a carrot cake I baked received 15 more 'likes' than my post about this critical issue. Am I annoyed? Hell yes. This is literally a life and death issue for women around the world. Women and young girls are actively being attacked for trying to get an education in certain areas of the world. What is wrong with us when a damn cake gets more attention than an issue of human rights? We are talking about the right to vote. The right to be paid a fair and living wage. The right to an education. The right to be viewed as a human being who has value and to not have that value denigrated because of what sex you just happen to be.
Yes, I'm sure that those of you who are conservative and religious tend to think 'equal rights = feminism = abortion rights.' And you are so wrong if you think that is what this campaign is about. Because it is not. It is about treating EVERYONE with respect no matter if they are male or female and giving everyone the right to make decisions about their lives. So, I'm asking that you go to the website for this initiative and make a commitment to support this effort. Educate yourself about what this campaign is actually about. Educate yourself about the truth of what women are subjected to in terms of acts of violence against women, the lack of educational opportunities for women, the gap in pay for women and all the other issues this initiative is about.
It is time to stop the war of the sexes and create a world where our sons and daughters will treat each other with respect. No matter where they live. This is the world I want for my son, my daughters, my daughter-in-law, and my grandchildren. Give it to them and to your children and grandchildren. Give it to the world.
Here's the link: http://www.heforshe.org/
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
Here I go again…
Note: Yes, I’m sounding off again. If you are a conservative Christian who still thinks our current president is a secret Muslim and you vote based on whom you think is the most Christian choice, then you probably won’t like what I’m saying here. On the other hand, that’s exactly why I think you need to read this today. So no alternative websites offered to you today. Just keep reading. I can pretty much guarantee that God wants you to know this.
I have finally reached my breaking point with posts on social media about how we need a president who believes in God in the White House, or about the 'need' to bring back God/Christian values/Jesus to America. All the while extolling the joy that will come of living in a country that has freedom of religion as long as that religion is nominally Christian.
Enough people. Let’s look at a couple of facts:
As I see it, posting anything or saying anything that implies in any way shape or form that any religion or belief system is the ‘right’ religion or belief and that other religions or beliefs are lesser or wrong and that their believers should be disenfranchised or eliminated from the face of the earth is an act of hatred, and therefore a mortal sin. If you are guilty of this, stop right now and sin no more. Then, and only then, will the world (and America) be a better place.
Disclaimer: No, I’m not perfect or claiming to be perfect. I’m actually quite a bit less than perfect. And I freely admit it. But I do have a fairly well developed worldview of good and evil. And right now I’m seeing way too much evil in how people are using religions of all types to justify hatred on a global scale. And that worries me greatly. Hence this: my version of a wake-up call.
I have finally reached my breaking point with posts on social media about how we need a president who believes in God in the White House, or about the 'need' to bring back God/Christian values/Jesus to America. All the while extolling the joy that will come of living in a country that has freedom of religion as long as that religion is nominally Christian.
Enough people. Let’s look at a couple of facts:
- Adolf Hitler based his genocide aimed at the Jews on his Christian (actually Catholic) upbringing and education. One article I read tonight on this said that the German Social Christian movement, which influenced Hitler’s beliefs strongly resembles the Christian Right movement in America (http://www.nobeliefs.com/hitler.htm). So, this man, raised as a Catholic, who wanted to be a priest, committed one of the most heinous acts of genocide in history aided and abetted by the Christians of his country. Who joined in all in the name of religion.
- America may have been founded on Christian values, but by virtue of the fact that our constitution does guarantee freedom of religion, that means in actuality America really is not a country of any specific religious belief. Or it should not be by the law of the land.
- Fanatics exist in virtually every religion out there. Evil exists. It is not exclusive to any one religion. In every religion, including Christianity, there are those who will turn the teachings of that religion to their own evil purposes. Christianity does not hold the franchise on virtue and goodness. Neither does any other religion.
- While I am myself a Catholic, I respect all faiths and prefer to not stereotype those of different beliefs based on the lunatic fringe element of their faith. And there are lunatic fringe elements in every single faith that exists.
- I also firmly believe that those who feel God will reward them with the joys of heaven for killing others in His Name have a big, hot surprise awaiting them. Since I was taught in my religion classes that the fifth commandment prohibition against taking life also covers actively (or passively) hating another human being, hating any one simply because they are a Jew, Muslim, Catholic, Atheist, Southern Baptist or what have you is therefore a mortal sin.
As I see it, posting anything or saying anything that implies in any way shape or form that any religion or belief system is the ‘right’ religion or belief and that other religions or beliefs are lesser or wrong and that their believers should be disenfranchised or eliminated from the face of the earth is an act of hatred, and therefore a mortal sin. If you are guilty of this, stop right now and sin no more. Then, and only then, will the world (and America) be a better place.
Disclaimer: No, I’m not perfect or claiming to be perfect. I’m actually quite a bit less than perfect. And I freely admit it. But I do have a fairly well developed worldview of good and evil. And right now I’m seeing way too much evil in how people are using religions of all types to justify hatred on a global scale. And that worries me greatly. Hence this: my version of a wake-up call.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Five Months Later
Today is my sister Mary Claire’s birthday. She would have been 56 years old today.
I wish beyond all things that she was here, so that I could bake her a cake like I did last year and celebrate with her. I would give anything to see her sitting on my couch in the den and holding her newest great niece, Ellen.
But she is not here. Instead I have spent the last five months mourning my little sister and coming to grips with everything that has happened since she told me about the lump near her collarbone.
I miss her every single day. I think about her every single day.
I have second-guessed every single decision we made about her treatment. And come to the conclusion again and again that we did do everything we could.
And I have relived the week and half while we cared for her in hospice over and over.
Ultimately, I have had to make my peace with not only what we did, but with what how it all ended.
This experience has changed me in ways I never expected. I am no stranger to losing those I love to death. I watched my father die in front of me when I was just seven years old. I lost five relatives between the ages of six and fifteen. And because of the experience of watching my father die suddenly of a heart attack, I developed a deep-seated fear of death that has haunted me my entire life. Until now.
Watching Mary Claire fight the inevitable those last weeks changed my perspective forever. She fought so hard for every moment, even though at the end the moments she was fighting for were moments where she was incapable of truly living. When I think back over what happened, the only thing I would change is that I would no longer deny the truth of what was happening to her.
By this, I do not mean that I would not have fought for her as hard as I did over those two years after we got her into M.D. Anderson. I would. Absolutely. But once we had no further options, I wish beyond everything that I had had the courage that my sisters Julia and Jane had to face the truth and the courage they had to tell Mary Claire the truth about what was going to happen. And if I am ever in Mary Claire’s situation, I hope that I have Julia and Jane there to tell me the truth. I promise I will believe you two.
I love you forever Mary Claire.
And I love you forever Julia and Jane.
I wish beyond all things that she was here, so that I could bake her a cake like I did last year and celebrate with her. I would give anything to see her sitting on my couch in the den and holding her newest great niece, Ellen.
But she is not here. Instead I have spent the last five months mourning my little sister and coming to grips with everything that has happened since she told me about the lump near her collarbone.
I miss her every single day. I think about her every single day.
I have second-guessed every single decision we made about her treatment. And come to the conclusion again and again that we did do everything we could.
And I have relived the week and half while we cared for her in hospice over and over.
Ultimately, I have had to make my peace with not only what we did, but with what how it all ended.
This experience has changed me in ways I never expected. I am no stranger to losing those I love to death. I watched my father die in front of me when I was just seven years old. I lost five relatives between the ages of six and fifteen. And because of the experience of watching my father die suddenly of a heart attack, I developed a deep-seated fear of death that has haunted me my entire life. Until now.
Watching Mary Claire fight the inevitable those last weeks changed my perspective forever. She fought so hard for every moment, even though at the end the moments she was fighting for were moments where she was incapable of truly living. When I think back over what happened, the only thing I would change is that I would no longer deny the truth of what was happening to her.
By this, I do not mean that I would not have fought for her as hard as I did over those two years after we got her into M.D. Anderson. I would. Absolutely. But once we had no further options, I wish beyond everything that I had had the courage that my sisters Julia and Jane had to face the truth and the courage they had to tell Mary Claire the truth about what was going to happen. And if I am ever in Mary Claire’s situation, I hope that I have Julia and Jane there to tell me the truth. I promise I will believe you two.
I love you forever Mary Claire.
And I love you forever Julia and Jane.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Goodbye
The eleventh post in my series on my sister, Mary Claire.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
At 9:30 tonight, my little sister, Mary Claire Chesnutt Luce, died.
Only memories remain. Along with anger. Sadness. And relief.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
At 9:30 tonight, my little sister, Mary Claire Chesnutt Luce, died.
Only memories remain. Along with anger. Sadness. And relief.
Monday, August 25, 2014
A Prayer for the Dying.
The tenth installment in my series on taking care of Mary Claire while she was in hospice care.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Another day and Mary Claire still hangs on to life.
She has not eaten anything since last Thursday night.
For the past three days, the only thing she has taken by mouth is liquid morphine and an anti-anxiety med which we dissolve in the morphine.
Watching my beloved sister die a fraction of an inch at a time has been a nightmare.
When this all started, my only goal was to save my sister. Having now faced the reality that there will be no miracle for her, no cure for her, no way for her to live a full and loving life, I only want her to go and to be at peace. It is the most painful realization I have ever had to deal with. But it is the truth.
She has not eaten anything since last Thursday night.
For the past three days, the only thing she has taken by mouth is liquid morphine and an anti-anxiety med which we dissolve in the morphine.
Watching my beloved sister die a fraction of an inch at a time has been a nightmare.
When this all started, my only goal was to save my sister. Having now faced the reality that there will be no miracle for her, no cure for her, no way for her to live a full and loving life, I only want her to go and to be at peace. It is the most painful realization I have ever had to deal with. But it is the truth.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Every Day
The ninth installment in my series about my sister Mary Claire.
Monday, March 24, 2014
The first thing we do in the morning, when Jane, Julia and I wake up, is head to MC’s room to see how the night went and if there were any changes. At this point, there really aren't any changes and the few changes we see are very subtle.
Mary Claire is still hanging on to life. The hospice people say this could be because she is waiting for someone. Our mom perhaps, since everyone else has already been here. But we cannot bring Mom in to see MC with the way that MC is now. Perhaps she is simply scared to die. We don’t know. What we do know is that it hurts to see her this way. Even Mike, who we thought would never feel this way, seems to have reached that point.
And so we wait. Julia has all the funeral arrangements made. She’s picked out a plot at the local cemetery in Rockport and bought it for Mary Claire. She’s talked to the funeral home. She’s also made arrangements with a local restaurant that was a favorite of MC and Mike for a reception after the funeral Mass. Jane is writing her obituary. I am picking out the music and I have my children working on picking out the readings for the funeral Mass.
Jane and I have our system down now. Since we are giving Mary Claire the maximum dose of morphine every hour now, we are taking alternate days to be in charge of giving her medicine. Which is essential, as I’ve discovered it really is difficult emotionally giving her this much morphine every hour. One side fact: when we open a new bottle of morphine, we tint it with blue food coloring so that we can tell if the dose begins to run out of her mouth when we give it to her.
Monday, March 24, 2014
The first thing we do in the morning, when Jane, Julia and I wake up, is head to MC’s room to see how the night went and if there were any changes. At this point, there really aren't any changes and the few changes we see are very subtle.
Mary Claire is still hanging on to life. The hospice people say this could be because she is waiting for someone. Our mom perhaps, since everyone else has already been here. But we cannot bring Mom in to see MC with the way that MC is now. Perhaps she is simply scared to die. We don’t know. What we do know is that it hurts to see her this way. Even Mike, who we thought would never feel this way, seems to have reached that point.
And so we wait. Julia has all the funeral arrangements made. She’s picked out a plot at the local cemetery in Rockport and bought it for Mary Claire. She’s talked to the funeral home. She’s also made arrangements with a local restaurant that was a favorite of MC and Mike for a reception after the funeral Mass. Jane is writing her obituary. I am picking out the music and I have my children working on picking out the readings for the funeral Mass.
Jane and I have our system down now. Since we are giving Mary Claire the maximum dose of morphine every hour now, we are taking alternate days to be in charge of giving her medicine. Which is essential, as I’ve discovered it really is difficult emotionally giving her this much morphine every hour. One side fact: when we open a new bottle of morphine, we tint it with blue food coloring so that we can tell if the dose begins to run out of her mouth when we give it to her.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
A Cry for Help
The eighth installment in my series about taking care of my sister Mary Claire in hospice.
I stayed with her until morning. My sweet little sister, I hope I am right. That it will be okay.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Jane and I were woken up at about 4:00-4:30 this morning by
Connie, the night nurse. MC was calling for me and refusing to let Connie give
her the liquid morphine. We immediately went to her and managed to persuade MC
to take the morphine. But she kept saying “Help me. Help me.” And it broke my heart
because I didn’t know what to do. All I know to do is to give her medicine to
control the pain. And I felt that I was failing her. So, I finally just held
her and told her she could go. That it would be all right. That I would be
okay. And we would take care of Mom. And that Mike would be okay. And that
everybody would be okay.
I told her to go. That Daddy would be waiting for her.
And it would be okay. And at some point, she calmed down and started saying,
“Okay.” Over and over.
I stayed with her until morning. My sweet little sister, I hope I am right. That it will be okay.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
She would have loved this...
Note: Fair warning to my conservative friends/readers. Yes, I'm going to say things that will potentially upset you. So, if you really can't stand me using my freedom of speech, go somewhere else today. I recommend Molly Wizenberg's blog Orangette. No politics there: Just joy in the creating of good food that feeds her family and her friends. On the other hand, if you can stand just a little bit of political commentary (really there won't be much) stick around and then go read Molly's wonderful words. Because this is really not so much about slamming Texas' Republican governor as it is about someone I loved.
On Friday a federal prosecutor in Austin indicted Texas Governor Rick Perry on two felony counts of abuse of power. Today he showed up at the Travis County courthouse to turn himself in and have his mug shot taken. I'm not going to get into whether the charges against Perry are baseless or natter on about how I certainly hope they aren't baseless.
No. What struck me today was how happy my best friend Sara would have been over this turn of events. She would have been ecstatic. And we would have been emailing each other about it and speculating hopefully about Perry's hope of another presidential run being done in by this indictment.
Sara was the real deal when it came to being a liberal Democrat, becoming more and more zealous as the years went by. The standard expectation being that most of us are fervid liberals when we are young, turning more conservative with the passing years. Sara was pretty much the opposite of that. But then she never did do anything that was expected of her.
Today I would have shared with her the fact that my daughter, her namesake, took a afternoon break to walk down to the courthouse and watch Perry make his 'walk of shame' in to turn himself in. I would have shared the video and photo my daughter Sara shot. And Sara Gray would have loved it all. She would have relaxed a tiny bit because she saw hope for Texas in this turn of events.
Instead, I'm hoping that she's seeing this now and smiling over the fact that Rick Perry now has a mug shot and is racking up some big lawyer bills. And that he is maybe, just maybe, losing some sleep at night over this.
It was a good day in Texas today Sara. I wish you were here.
On Friday a federal prosecutor in Austin indicted Texas Governor Rick Perry on two felony counts of abuse of power. Today he showed up at the Travis County courthouse to turn himself in and have his mug shot taken. I'm not going to get into whether the charges against Perry are baseless or natter on about how I certainly hope they aren't baseless.
No. What struck me today was how happy my best friend Sara would have been over this turn of events. She would have been ecstatic. And we would have been emailing each other about it and speculating hopefully about Perry's hope of another presidential run being done in by this indictment.
Sara was the real deal when it came to being a liberal Democrat, becoming more and more zealous as the years went by. The standard expectation being that most of us are fervid liberals when we are young, turning more conservative with the passing years. Sara was pretty much the opposite of that. But then she never did do anything that was expected of her.
Today I would have shared with her the fact that my daughter, her namesake, took a afternoon break to walk down to the courthouse and watch Perry make his 'walk of shame' in to turn himself in. I would have shared the video and photo my daughter Sara shot. And Sara Gray would have loved it all. She would have relaxed a tiny bit because she saw hope for Texas in this turn of events.
Instead, I'm hoping that she's seeing this now and smiling over the fact that Rick Perry now has a mug shot and is racking up some big lawyer bills. And that he is maybe, just maybe, losing some sleep at night over this.
It was a good day in Texas today Sara. I wish you were here.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
An Act of Faith
The seventh installment in my continuing series on taking care of my sister Mary Claire while she was dying.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
One thing I’ve found out this week is that if I’m alone, I
break down. And I can’t break down. Even though Mary Claire is now not as aware
as she was, I need to show her that I’m okay. So, I have to stay strong and not
be walking around with red eyes from crying. Saturday, March 22, 2014
This morning, Fr. Rey came and administered the sacrament of
Extreme Unction. Also known as the anointing of the sick or Last Rites. When he
arrived, I pretty much read him the riot act. As in, “We need to do this, but I
do not want MC to be upset by it.” Because I know she is afraid. Hell, I’m
afraid. She is dying. And there is nothing I can do to stop it.
She did become upset. But then, amazingly she became calm at
the end. I’ve heard of this and this is
not the first time I’ve seen this sacrament administered. But I was surprised
by it’s effect on her.
I’m so tired. But I need to see this through. I need to see her through this.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Taking to Her Bed
The sixth installment in my series about taking care of my sister Mary Claire in hospice.
Jane arrived early this evening. Though MC had asked me today when
she was coming, MC had forgotten Jane was coming until Jane went into her room. Which led to a funny Chesnutt sister moment: Jane
was explaining to Mary Claire that she would have been
here sooner, but that she had been sick with a cold and fever and knew that
Julia wouldn’t let her in the door while she was sick. A long pause, then MC
said, “Bitch.” And yes. We loved it.
It is a relief having Jane here. I had been worried about her getting here in time. And together the three of us will see MC and each other through this. Originally my plan had been to go home once Jane got here and return in a week. But it is very clear that I cannot go. Both for Mary Claire’s sake and for mine.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Mary Claire is now unable to get out of bed. Little did I
know when I put her to bed last night that we had seen the last day she would
be mobile. The hospice nurse told us today that we should not move her now.
She’s not capable of walking. She’s also having difficulty swallowing her
pills. After trying mixing the crushed pills in grape jelly and that not
working as well as I had hoped, I tried chocolate whipped cream. Success! She
loved it. The only caution is that you simply cannot lick any that accidentally
gets on your fingers. I almost did that automatically (I love chocolate), but
stopped myself just in time.
Today I contacted our extended family and a few family friends
to let them know the state of affairs here after a ‘friend’ of MC’s went on
Facebook and announced that she only had two weeks to live. I was not happy
when I woke up this morning and saw that post. But Julia immediately reached
out to someone she knows who promptly dealt with the issue. Gratefully, MC is
now past the point where she can use her phone to check Facebook. We have
removed the iPhone from her room and have with us though just in case.
It is a relief having Jane here. I had been worried about her getting here in time. And together the three of us will see MC and each other through this. Originally my plan had been to go home once Jane got here and return in a week. But it is very clear that I cannot go. Both for Mary Claire’s sake and for mine.
Thursday, June 05, 2014
How Do You Say Goodbye?
The fifth installment in my series on taking care of Mary Claire in hospice earlier this year.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Mary Claire continues to weaken. We can all see it. She’s determined to do things on her own, but this morning, when I fixed her breakfast (chocolate milk and malt o’ meal) she couldn’t feed herself. She was just too shaky. She got frustrated and wouldn’t eat any more. Absolutely refused to let me help her. We are worried because she doesn’t realize that she can’t do things by herself anymore and very concerned that she will wheel herself too close to the stairs or try to stand up by herself and fall. So, we kept a close eye on her. Much to her annoyance, I’m sure. She also got upset when Julia helped her put her makeup on. It hurts MC to see her face in the mirror, which is so thin, and to see the swelling she has in her lower body. She can’t move by herself and she’s not herself. And all she wants is to be ‘normal’ again.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Mary Claire continues to weaken. We can all see it. She’s determined to do things on her own, but this morning, when I fixed her breakfast (chocolate milk and malt o’ meal) she couldn’t feed herself. She was just too shaky. She got frustrated and wouldn’t eat any more. Absolutely refused to let me help her. We are worried because she doesn’t realize that she can’t do things by herself anymore and very concerned that she will wheel herself too close to the stairs or try to stand up by herself and fall. So, we kept a close eye on her. Much to her annoyance, I’m sure. She also got upset when Julia helped her put her makeup on. It hurts MC to see her face in the mirror, which is so thin, and to see the swelling she has in her lower body. She can’t move by herself and she’s not herself. And all she wants is to be ‘normal’ again.
Today really started the goodbyes. Family is beginning to come in. Clark came in this morning early and when MC saw him, she called his name and just clung to him when he hugged her. She was so happy he was here. My daughter Emily came in for a quick overnight trip, and a few friends stopped by. Mom was also told today about what is happening. She is stunned and heartbroken. I finally saw her this evening. Julia called me to come join her at a restaurant, where she had taken Mom and our friends from home to get me out of the house. Amid the laughter and talk, much about old times, Mom suddenly became quiet and teary. It’s a shock, because we tried to protect Mom from the worst of this. And I have no idea if that was the right or wrong thing to do.
After everyone else had gone, Julia and I stayed. And talked. And cried. And on the topic of the right or wrong things to do, we agreed that no matter with what has happened so far and with what happens in the next few days, there will be no second guessing, no guilt, no recriminations. And we told Clark that when he and his wife came and joined us. This loss is going to tear us apart in so many ways. We cannot tear each other apart during or afterwards.
One bright spot in this day. The weather finally was just warm enough with no wind to allow MC to sit outside on the deck. We got her out there and just sat and visited while music played on an iPad. It wasn’t long, but I’m so happy that we had that moment with MC.
The low spot: When I was getting MC ready for bed, much earlier than her usual time at her request, she asked me, “Why can’t I remember anything?” And my heart broke again.
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