More Pneumonia?

I am back in the PNW. I am coughing again and the goobies have returned. Is it pneumonia again? I do have seasonal allergies also, although they tend to last all the time. I guess I need to research this. And my knee is not feeling good. I thought maybe it could be the cholesterol lowering pill I am on, but have been off that pill for a week, and maybe it feels a little better, some days. I can't bend it very well. Aging is a incremental process, and I seem to fight this fact and the aging. I can't see myself as old. But if I can't do something, I fret. I guess I will be a whiny old lady and fight it!

The Spirit of Passing It On

After my daughter died, I discovered a side of her that had been hidden from me. She did not toot her own horn, but she gave of herself. If someone needed monetary help and she had some money, she would hand it over. If they needed a hug, she had one. She was pretty selfless when it came to giving of her self. I always called her my labor intensive child as I had to bail her out a lot, so some of the money she handed out could have been mine, and I don't care. But when she came into some money that her Grandfather had set aside, she could have done something great for herself with it, maybe bought herself an apartment or condo, but she went through it pretty fast handing it out, going to her most favorite place in the world, Maui, where I have since heard, you can spend a lot in a short time. But it made her happy.

After June 6th, 2006 I began to hear from people who wanted to tell me how my daughter helped them. So I have now taken on passing it on. I call it to myself the spirit of my daughter, and if I see some one in need, I can spare $20. Or if it appears that there is greater need, a multiple of $20. This started when I was met by a distraught woman with a fantastic story in the parking lot of our local grocery. She needed a specific amount to pay to stay the night so she could see her two children who she was trying to regain custody of after finding a job. It was a wordy frantic story, but I can spare $20. So I gave it to her. I realized on the spot that this was what the legacy of my daughter could be. I can spare $20. The stories may be far fetched, but who am I to judge. My daughter usually had far fetched stories to tell me, but with the basis of love for her, who was I to judge, and, hey, I can spare $20. What I was given in return from my daughter was a quirky love that did not come and go. So I will continue to spare $20 when I see a need. It happened yesterday.

We were in the gas station, best price in town at Love's, and Jack was filling the car and I was knitting a baby blanket, and noted the rig in front of us. It was a truck with the bed filled high with probably household goods, a pet kennel tied on the back, and a tarp over it all. It was a double cab truck with four people and a small child in it. The child was smiling and climbing over the driver who was obviously Grandma, and Grandpa came around to the front of the truck and pushed the hood closed. Jack commented to him that that was a good move. He came over and told us that they had just bought it and were still finding out how good it was. They were from Oklahoma going to Oregon. Entering the State they hit black ice on a bridge, jack knifed, hit the abutment lost control and ended up off the road totaled. The trailer was smashed, one dog disappeared and they never found it, but they had enough money to buy this truck and they were going to make it to Oregon. My husband gave them $60. It was what we had. We got a God Bless which one can always use. And they pulled out onto the road heading for Oregon. May God bless them. As the Grandpa said, we are alive.

So in the spirit of a daughter we will pass it on!

Pneumonia

I am into day 16 of having pneumonia. It is not fun. I am still coughing, and getting the goobies up. I don't have a fever anymore, but I am feeling weak and tired, and don't have the fitness I had two weeks ago. It was a viral one, caught out of the blue, probably from some obscure door handle, or at the swimming pool where I was doing water aerobics. I feel like doing some things again, and I have read two books, but I want my old self back. At one time, 5 days into the illness, I was in my chair with a blanky and not feeling like doing anything, and I looked outside, up at the rafters in the overhang on the porch, and I thought it would be so easy to just let go. Being a pretty positive person, and loving humor and laughing, this was not me thinking. But I am aged now, and aging, and thoughts like that come to you. Who are those tough ones that seem to be able to get through huge physical things, illnesses, really bad stuff like cancer and soldier on into old age, like their 90's, and then they are there and life quality is not all that great, but they seem to be happy and enduring. I don't know if I will be like them, but I do know I like being able to race down the ski slope, ride my road bike and feel the accomplishment of it all at my age, and even feel a little smug about it all! So here is to getting over this damn virus and out on the slopes before the season is over. I need to get day 70!

Anitiyah Continued

I was supposed to be writing about my youngest. When we drove down to Leadville in 1963, we had a VW bug. It was green. The two older kids road in the back seat, and the baby was in the back window storage space. So if she fussed, we had to stop the car, and I would retrieve her from the space and take her up with me in the front seat. It was a cramped trip and we did not take much with us as there was not much room to do that. We had to have diapers, etc for the kids, well, really for the baby. I nursed the baby so that was taken care of as far as food was concerned for her, but it was a hectic trip.

When we finally made it to the apartment on the second floor, it became a blur because of the logistics of two kids in one room, and a small travel cot for the baby in our room until we could get a crib for her. So two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. Basic! I remember a few things, such as Anitiyah learning to crawl in the living room, on our old oriental carpet that had belonged to my Grandmother. We had a Christmas tree in one corner at Christmas and there are some pictures of the kids and Anytiyah laying on the carpet reaching out for goodies. I am vague as to time frames of finally being able to buy the Lot SW of town, and then getting a well dug, and ordering our house which was a manufactured home. It was not big, a bedroom, small bathroom, small kitchen, dining area, free standing fireplace, and living room. There was a staircase up to the second floor which involved the roof in the two bedrooms, but huge storage area under the eaves. The kids were upstairs, and Anitiyah switched rooms over time, giving the older kids a bit of privacy for a time. The baby was still in a crib, so I would roll it back and forth. My son told me that after I would tuck them all into bed, as I went back down the stairs, a monster would raise up out of the vent that allowed heat to rise into the bedrooms, and he would have to hide under the covers. Sometimes he would call me back, but he never told me about the monster until her was way older.

What a time. I was trying to keep myself together, do some kind of job, be with the kids and take them out exploring in the summers, and trying to be a wife to a husband who worked all week, different shifts, would go climb mountains with climbing buddies in the summer, and was a ski patrolman in the winters. I was so naive, and lonely, and don't know if I was much of a Mother other than loving my kids. I admit to turning to other people for friendship and not making very good decisions at times. But I also had been very sick with the kidney problem that was finally solved. I would wander the woods at times, just lost in what I should do to correct the situation. In the midst of all of this, while walking with a neighbor with my three kids and her two kids, in these same woods, we came across a body of a young man lying with his head up to a tree and a gun laying on his chest. My oldest child went running toward this scene, and we all called her back. She was amazed at the sight. She was pretty tough even as a young girl. This poor soul had been there a bit. I remembered noticing that the hands were an orange color.

We turned back, called the Sheriff and my neighbor took the Sheriff out to the site. I kept the kids at our house. I also fell apart. I think this was the final ending for me. I pinned the curtains together at night imagining someone creeping around outside. I took a trip to some friends who had moved to Albuquerque, insisting that I needed to just get away, and my husband took care of the kids. I drove my little Saab, which barely made it back up all the hills to Leadville. It was when I got back and we fought verbally, and roughly, that I decided to take the trip to Washington and visit my Mother. I drove us all, three kids, a cat, and myself.

I made it to Grand Junction, drove into a gas station for gas, and the car vapor locked. I sat there crying, sort of bumping my head on the steering wheel wondering why I couldn't even get out of Colorado. A young man who worked at the station came out and asked what was wrong and when I told him, he said he would push me, and to turn on the engine, and slip it into gear when I got a little speed up. It worked, and didn't let the car get very empty again, and drove on into Idaho, and a motel with a swimming pool for the kids. My oldest was my engineer and map reader, and helped me keep things going. By the time we got to the motel, I had a raging headache, and needed the respite. The kids really had a good time swimming and playing in the pool, and we had a dinner, and we all slept long and hard. Next stop, with my long driving days, was my Dad's in Washington. Going up I5 I was really getting sleepy, all the way from Portland, OR, and kept stopping at every rest stop and rested. The kids were so good I couldn't believe it. They must have sensed we were embarking on a new life. My youngest who had wet her bed almost every three nights never wet it again. It was like the tension was lifted and it felt so good to all of us.

More to come!

Anitiyah!

New apartment, Leadville, and a long stairway out the back for the kids to go in and out. Three kids in one bedroom, the oldest was 4, next 2, and the two week old baby. I don't know how we managed to stack everything up in that three room apartment, but we did. The oldest girl was starting to have some temper flares that involved almost having some kind of fit like a seizure. The middle child, son, developed asthma, and had many episodes of breathing difficulties, and the little baby was just trying to fit in and get some attention with all this upheaval. There was one hospitalization for my son with his asthma where the next day I was told they almost lost him. There was no call to us. I was alarmed by this as we certainly should have been informed. But the Dr. attending him was the one who liked breasts, so I guess I should have known. And after a couple of years I developed some symptoms that were un-diagnosible for the local doctors. I would feel fine in the early morning, but then develop nausea, and back pain through the day. They used ultra sound on my back, 'to break up the focal point of pain', and then they clearly decided I was a hypochondriac as they kept telling me I was pregnant. I protested and mentioned that there did not seem to be a new baby. There were two doctors, one was distant and uninterested, and the other was too interested, kept wanting to examine my breasts and would. He would never have a nurse with him, and I should have suspected something. I was naive, and sick, and just wanted help. He also used to follow my car if he crossed my path. I should have reported him to someone, but I just felt too tired and ill.

Finally I wrote home to our family friend and our doctor of many years. I was so sick, that I wrote the bare symptoms which gave my family doctor and idea and he wrote back and told me to get home immediately or go see a colleague of his in Colorado Springs. I got an appointment right away with the colleague, and under great distress, considering the children, and my husband's job, and trying to figure out how to handle all of this, I got a diagnosis of a kidney problem called a fallen kidney. No wonder I was so sick. I was booked for surgery in about 2 weeks, my Mother came out to take care of the children, and I expected to lose a kidney. ( My husband would come down on weekends to visit, and stay with a friend from my college days. Husband would tell me about strange magazines and books that my friend had lying around. I had to giggle as I knew my friend was gay. ) The doctor decided that my kidney looked good enough to try and save, and tied it up to my ribs. I still have the kidney even though it was a long haul to heal and feel better and for years I would get infections very easily. I had lost a lot of weight, and the kids had more upheaval. Before the time of this event, we had managed to find a Lot NW of town and had a manufactured home put on it for 'our place'. We had 5 acres, I think, of woods around us, our own well, and electricity into the Lot, and wonderful deck looking out into the woods.

There were good times, hikes in the mountains, our yard to play in, learning to ski. But my life was crumbling. I decided to try working again. I was a window dresser for J. C. Penney's, and then got a job teaching skiing up at the local ski area. I earned enough to buy a little Saab 2 stroke car. Zoom I called it. The kids could go to the area with me, ski, and then play in the day care with the other kids. My husband was a ski patroller at another area most weekends, and in the summer he was off climbing mountains. I began to wander. I would take the kids on trips into the mountains with a lunch, and we would explore. Or we would stay at home and amuse ourselves. The oldest went to school, walking a pretty long way until they finally got a bus going for our area. I would walk her through the woods to the next street over, and my son would keep an eye on the baby. Lots of times I would come back and Aniy would be crawling around the house. It took some time figuring out how this could happen, me suspecting my son of her liberation. She had found a loose bar in her play pen. She just pushed it aside and crawled out, and my son did not see it happen. My oldest daughter would walk home and bring me flowers that she said she found in the woods, but I am sure she found in peoples yards. We would discuss the propriety of this, but the lecture would not last.

I will continue this story concerning the further breakdown of my ability to maintain a place in my first marriage. To be continued!

My Mother's Last Days!

Mom was having lots of troubles with cardiac failure, and probably kidney failure as well, but seemed determined to keep on trucking. She was so proud when she made it all the way to the mailbox about a block from her apt. But she had trouble getting back. It was hard to tell what was the trouble, and I am not sure if it wasn't everything and COPD. But she kept doing OK, and when the assisted living place said we might start looking for something that could care for Mom with more intensity, we had no idea that it would soon be a traumatic trip to the hospital. We were called by the hospital, and I called my brother and we all started to drive North. We were 40 miles from the hospital, and my brother was 80 miles. We drove a road along the water and as we neared the town where the hospital was, Ode To The Moon came on the radio, there was an electrical storm going on all around us, and it was 12:00 midnight. What a spectacular way for someone to leave this world.

We arrived at the hospital, and were ushered into the Intensive Care Wing, and my brother soon arrived with his wife. Mom was hooked up to too many tubes, and was not breathing on her own, but they said she could hear us if we wanted to talk to her. It was hard to see and comprehend that this was the wonderful happy little Mom we all knew. But we talked to her and told her to keep up the fight and we would be there for her. They told us not to expect her to last the night. We left somewhere around 4:00 AM, and went home to be called and told that Mom had made it and would be making it for awhile maybe.

She actually went back to her apt. and when it next happened, maybe a month later, when we got to her apt. we found a note that she had written to us saying goodbye. We were in the apt. getting her glasses and some clothes as they said she could move to a nursing home in a few days. This was the downhill run, and she was very angry for awhile as she had wanted to die, but a neighbor had found her and called 911. She had wanted to let God take her, she said. She was ready, and hadn't she told us so in the note? She made it another few months, and we found her a really nice place near where she had lived for some time, a nursing home that had a day care, and a cat wandering around, and nice places to sit, and she had her own room eventually. When she was really going down hill she did not really understand where she was, and thought it so nice that she was able to live in this nice house with all these nice people. My brother from back East was here for the duration, and he would get to her bedside first in the day and was there when she breathed her last. She did not know much by then and suffered the extreme kidney failure symptoms calmed by morphine, and she slipped away. We got there 30 minutes late, but I held her and said goodbye anyway. She was my little Mom, and she loved us all so much, her kids, her grandkids, and her life, and her God she had found. She left a wonderful legacy of laughter, caring, and love that we all try to emulate in our own way. May she be able to see what she has wrought and be rejoicing in her heaven! Amen

Anitiyah!

I am borrowing that name from a book I am reading. I want to write a story about my daughter and want to preserve her privacy. This is my youngest daughter born in the early 60's, a time of great awakening, efforts at peace, and a degree of safety I don't think we will see anymore. Aniy was two weeks old when we were going to move to a new job, and a new home. Her birth had seemed to have been fraught with suspense as I thought I was in labor, but it was so light it might just be an upset stomach. We decided to drive to the town where the hospital was and wait at a friends home. We would leave our two other kids there while I was in the hospital. The friends finally shooed me out of there as they were sure I was going to give birth in their living room. So I got to the hospital and went through the usual preps and indeed I was in active labor. Aniy was born a couple of hours after I got to the hospital, and they put me in a room afterward with the only other person in the maternity section of this little old hospital run by Catholic nuns. The ward was on the third floor and to get there you climbed three flights of wide stairs. I think there was an elevator, but the nuns always walked up and down the stairs. Maybe they had to do that as a penance. You could hear the stairs creaking when anyone was on them. In my memory it seemed a dark place, but it was night when I gave birth.

I was really tired and dozed, but my roommate shook me wake to tell me she could hear dripping. I was hemorrhaging. We managed to get ahold of the nun in charge, I think I had a bell to ring, but my roommate did actually go out in the hall to look for someone, and the nun came up to check me. She elevated the end of the bed, changed all the covers and packed me, and massaged my belly, telling me to do the same. It was an agony trip, and I was so tired. I kept trying to keep kneading my belly, but would fall asleep. I think I must have finally stopped bleeding, and did sleep as I was soon out of the hospital. I am pretty sure they only kept you a day or two back in the early 60's. At home I attended to getting ready to move. What a mess. Three kids, one a newborn, and I was so weak I could barely do anything. I also was breast feeding this little bitty girl. We also had a big black cat named Linus.

We had a VW bug and we would drive that car to the new home with three kids, the cat, and what luggage we really needed to make the trip. A moving company had all our other household things headed to the new home. I really do not remember much other than trying to keep the kids quiet, and tending to the new baby, and hoping the cat would settle down. The meds we got to quiet the cat did the opposite. The cat was yowling and hyper and moving around, and we were all going a bit nuts. The cat was a big cat, and we finally stopped at a Vets office in some little farm town in Wyoming and asked them to keep the cat until we could arrange to get it to where we were going to live. This was the start of many cat fiascos in my life that I still cannot forget. We never got the cat back, and if we are to believe the Vet, our cat went to a good life as a barn cat. I really hope so!

We did make it to the new home in a small mining town at 10,000 feet, and moved into a motel room. I immediately ended up in bed as I began to hemorrhage again. So I had a little travel bed with Aniy in it next to my bed, and the other two kids were just going to have to entertain themselves while their Father was out arranging for us to have an apartment, and to await for our goods to arrive. It was pretty miserable. I went through this town a couple of weeks ago, and the motel is still there, and it pretty much looks the same. It is right on the main road through town, and rather stark.

When we finally moved into our apartment, it was on the second floor, had two bedrooms, a kitchen where you also ate, and a small living room. It was a beginning. The house we had moved from at a mine site in Montana was basically three shacks tacked together. It also had two bedrooms and was one among six houses up a dirt road at a phosphate mine. I guess I should write about this place in the hinterlands of Montana. So that will become an aside from the story of Aniy. To be continued!