My friend Brad has encouraged us all to join him in celebrating "Too Much Information Friday" on Facebook. Fridays will be a day when you can pronounce to the world silly little facts that you may not usually share. I am capable of being the queen of "Too Much Information". The thought of sharing completely random and unnecessary tidbits crosses my mind quite often. I try hard not to act on it. The most embarrassing information is kept under wraps which some of you may find hard to believe! I have just finished reading Chelsea Handler's first 4 books and must say that compared to her I am one of the most tame, uptight people on the planet. She leaves nothing to the imagination and throws it all out there. I was highly entertained and inspired to try to let loose a little more. This won't happen overnight. All things take time and in some instances high quantities of alcohol.
This morning I was thinking about the loaded question: "How Are You Doing?". Most of us ask this of people we run into and haven't seen in awhile. The majority of them will say they are doing fine--and you? You will reply that all is fine in your world and then you can go on to talk about the weather or whatever safe topics come to mind. Some people take the question literally and give you much more than you bargained for. Some of us are very patient and kind, but others, such as my husband have a hard time standing still when acquaintances go into graphic detail about the size of the kidney stone they just passed or their arthroscopic anal probe. I've had women I barely know get descriptive about issues with their menstrual cycles or other "lady" part problems that I really would rather not know about. In my adult life I have never even considered giving my private parts names or titles. They really don't need to figure into any conversations. Don't even get me started on bodily fluids. It appears that I am squeamish when it comes to secretions that originate from inside the body. I've had people laugh and tell me they sharted. I would be mortified if I somehow ended up with a large brown stain on my underwear. I wouldn't want anyone to know. Skid marks and speaking of them should be avoided at all costs. Nursing as a profession is obiously out for me. I can actually hold it together with family members or close friends until it comes to mucus. Even typing that word makes me gag.
Of course not all detailed answers have to do with medical issues. I have heard religious, political and other rants. Most of the time I really don't mind letting people vent. It can honestly be said that I care about people and want to help anyone in any way that I can. There are a couple people in particular who I know of that cross the line on personal information though. There is one in particular that I only run into every few years. I am not alone in trying to get by undetected. I feel terrible that I want to run away and hide when they are in the immediate area. I want to be a better person--to stand and take one for the team. I t is so hard though. This person can talk without taking a breath for hours. They don't realize that your eyes are glazing over and you are looking for an exit. Every terrible thing that has ever happened to this person spews forth in great detail. You can't even get a word in edgewise. You are held prisoner to graphic accounts of terrible situations. You feel so badly but at the same time wonder if it is karma.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Friday, May 30, 2014
Spin Doctor Needed......
An acquaintance once mentioned that I change jobs more often than I change my underwear. That is a bit of an exaggeration since I religiously change my underwear at least once per day. This statement has made me a bit insecure about my job history. I once dreamed of finding the right job and staying with it forever~fate had other plans. Friends try to make me feel better by telling me that I am well rounded, have vast life experience and have picked up numerous skills. Last night I tried to recount my employment history; in doing so I gave myself a massive headache and was shocked by the amount of jobs that I have held. There may be cause for concern. I attempted to count them all in my mind which was pretty much impossible since I was trying to go chronologically and kept remembering obscure jobs that I had blocked from my memory. The only thing to do was to promise myself that this morning I would sit down and type out a list and try not to faint when I saw the final number. The best way to look at it is to say that I have met a lot of amazing people through various jobs and have enjoyed the majority of them. I don't remember ever being fired. I was laid off once at a job where the company was closing forever--I was one of the last to go a few weeks before the doors closed. I could have stayed with Sunmakers, my favorite job ever, but I would have had to move my husband and pregnant self up to Seattle which was not possibly since his job was here. To the best of my memory, here is my list:
Before Turning 20:
1. Picking Beans at Dickey Farms
2. Babysitting for various people through jr high and high school
3. Snack Shack at the high school
4. Life Guard for the City of White Salmon
5. Life Guard for Clark College
6. Sales Clerk at a Sporting Good Store at Vancouver Mall
7. Possibly lasted one day as a telemarketer--I have a vague and highly unpleasant memory of this
8. Live in Nanny for a family in Vancouver
9. Waitress at T & C Restaurant in White Salmon
10. Booking Agent for Portland Night and Day
11. Cashier at Flaky Jake's
From Age 21 til Marriage at 25
12. Photo Developer at Hour Photo Lab
13. Sales Clerk in Hallmark like store at Mall 205
14. Customer Service Rep for Larger Photo Lab (loved this-they went out of business though :( )
15. Production Line for Different Large Photo Lab--worked all night so you'd have photos next day
16. Snack Counter at Movie Theater
17. Telemarketing again for a few days to help a friend--Hate it--reason I STILL hate talking on phone
18. Waitress at Farrell's
19. Receptionist and switch board operator at Moyer Theater Main Offices--left to go to Travel School
20. Receptionist/Agent in Training at a Travel Agency
From Right Before Marriage through 30's
21. Agent and Mexico Group Coordinator for a Travel Wholesaler-Favorite Job EVER we were sold :(
22. A/R person for an Office Supply Company (to get by until new job)
23. Accounting Manager at a Corporate Travel Agency---Liked a lot but left during 2nd pregnancy
24. Home Daycare Provider-----Hard Work-Not Favorite-Paid Bills with Toddlers in house
25. Group Coordinator for Summer Exchange Students--This was my longest running gig
26. After School Enrichment Class Teacher
27. Pre School Assistant Teacher in Lake Oswego
28. Booking Agent for Travel Wholesaler--didn't work with toddlers at home and newly preggo with 3rd
29. More Home Childcare
30. Community Coordinator for HS Exchange Students
31. Regional Coordinator for 2 companies at once--Summer Students and Winter Students
32. After School Program Leader for Grant Program---Grant Ended after 3 years
In my 40's
33. 2 Years of Americorps doing the Aspire Program at Colton High School
34. 1 Year Temp Job at Colton HS as Counseling Secretary---Loved it--temp position :(
35. Kinderday Leader at Holcomb Elem. for 1 year while also Homework Club Lead at Beavercreek
36. Kinderday Leader at King Elem.
37. District Sub for several years for Teacher's Assistant Position
38. Bookkeeper helper for a friend for awhile--Not my thing. :( Decent at it--hated 8 hours of numbers
39. Library Worker in Canby--Hated Working EVERY Saturday. Missed Family Time :(
39. Cashier at Target
41. Cashier at Used Furniture Store--Loved the people and old furniture--heavy lifting and weekends again
42. Assistant to a friend with a Travel Agency--She was helping me out between jobs. :)
43. Administrative Assistant at Creative Childcare Solutions currently
Okay old friends--did I forget anything? I am only 5 jobs away from my age!! This is scary. The funny thing is that besides my 17 years of working off and on with Compass USA, my longest running job is as a volunteer for PNBA. I have worked for them once or twice a year for 15 years. Not sure what I will do with this information. Maybe I will use it as a teaching tool for my children. I will tell them that if they want a decent retirement independent from their spouse they may want to think about longevity at a job. I would not recommend job hopping to anyone. Job hunting stresses me out but thankfully I have always ended up with something. This list makes it extremely difficult to form a convincing resume'. Celebrities have publicity agents or "spin doctors" that help them to "spin" things into a positive light. I need one of these to help with my resume'. Yes, I am a writer, but when it comes to attempting a resume' for myself it always seems lacking. If you are good at spinning, any help would be appreciated!!
Before Turning 20:
1. Picking Beans at Dickey Farms
2. Babysitting for various people through jr high and high school
3. Snack Shack at the high school
4. Life Guard for the City of White Salmon
5. Life Guard for Clark College
6. Sales Clerk at a Sporting Good Store at Vancouver Mall
7. Possibly lasted one day as a telemarketer--I have a vague and highly unpleasant memory of this
8. Live in Nanny for a family in Vancouver
9. Waitress at T & C Restaurant in White Salmon
10. Booking Agent for Portland Night and Day
11. Cashier at Flaky Jake's
From Age 21 til Marriage at 25
12. Photo Developer at Hour Photo Lab
13. Sales Clerk in Hallmark like store at Mall 205
14. Customer Service Rep for Larger Photo Lab (loved this-they went out of business though :( )
15. Production Line for Different Large Photo Lab--worked all night so you'd have photos next day
16. Snack Counter at Movie Theater
17. Telemarketing again for a few days to help a friend--Hate it--reason I STILL hate talking on phone
18. Waitress at Farrell's
19. Receptionist and switch board operator at Moyer Theater Main Offices--left to go to Travel School
20. Receptionist/Agent in Training at a Travel Agency
From Right Before Marriage through 30's
21. Agent and Mexico Group Coordinator for a Travel Wholesaler-Favorite Job EVER we were sold :(
22. A/R person for an Office Supply Company (to get by until new job)
23. Accounting Manager at a Corporate Travel Agency---Liked a lot but left during 2nd pregnancy
24. Home Daycare Provider-----Hard Work-Not Favorite-Paid Bills with Toddlers in house
25. Group Coordinator for Summer Exchange Students--This was my longest running gig
26. After School Enrichment Class Teacher
27. Pre School Assistant Teacher in Lake Oswego
28. Booking Agent for Travel Wholesaler--didn't work with toddlers at home and newly preggo with 3rd
29. More Home Childcare
30. Community Coordinator for HS Exchange Students
31. Regional Coordinator for 2 companies at once--Summer Students and Winter Students
32. After School Program Leader for Grant Program---Grant Ended after 3 years
In my 40's
33. 2 Years of Americorps doing the Aspire Program at Colton High School
34. 1 Year Temp Job at Colton HS as Counseling Secretary---Loved it--temp position :(
35. Kinderday Leader at Holcomb Elem. for 1 year while also Homework Club Lead at Beavercreek
36. Kinderday Leader at King Elem.
37. District Sub for several years for Teacher's Assistant Position
38. Bookkeeper helper for a friend for awhile--Not my thing. :( Decent at it--hated 8 hours of numbers
39. Library Worker in Canby--Hated Working EVERY Saturday. Missed Family Time :(
39. Cashier at Target
41. Cashier at Used Furniture Store--Loved the people and old furniture--heavy lifting and weekends again
42. Assistant to a friend with a Travel Agency--She was helping me out between jobs. :)
43. Administrative Assistant at Creative Childcare Solutions currently
Okay old friends--did I forget anything? I am only 5 jobs away from my age!! This is scary. The funny thing is that besides my 17 years of working off and on with Compass USA, my longest running job is as a volunteer for PNBA. I have worked for them once or twice a year for 15 years. Not sure what I will do with this information. Maybe I will use it as a teaching tool for my children. I will tell them that if they want a decent retirement independent from their spouse they may want to think about longevity at a job. I would not recommend job hopping to anyone. Job hunting stresses me out but thankfully I have always ended up with something. This list makes it extremely difficult to form a convincing resume'. Celebrities have publicity agents or "spin doctors" that help them to "spin" things into a positive light. I need one of these to help with my resume'. Yes, I am a writer, but when it comes to attempting a resume' for myself it always seems lacking. If you are good at spinning, any help would be appreciated!!
Thursday, May 29, 2014
In Search of.............
Once, long ago, I was actually described by someone as passionate. That seems so foreign to me now. In a world full of mortgages, college tuition, car payments and a ton of other bills I find myself mired in the drudgery of penny pinching and worrying that I will drop one of the many balls that I am juggling. I wish that I could say that I was an expert at one thing, but the truth is that I am average at best when it comes to most everything I do. I'm not trying to sell myself short, I am trying to see myself clearly so that I can move forward in life. It is said that if you find the one thing in life that you are passionate about and pursue it, you can make it into your career. I am 48 and have never actually had a career. I have worked many jobs~some I have loved and some were just to get me by. The ones that I have truly loved have disappeared by either the company being sold or by grant money running out. It was always my intention to find a job that I loved and keep it forever. That hasn't worked for me. My current job is one of those instances. I love it. It utilizes my unique skill set and keeps me engaged. I swear I have A.D.D. so keeping me engaged is important. I don't like to be bored at work. Anyone who has ever been bored at work will tell you that it makes the days drag by. The company is going to be sold. I completely understand. My boss has been doing this for fifteen years and it has become more trouble than it is worth to her. She is ready to make a big change and focus more on family. It is bittersweet for me because even though I am thrilled that she will be starting a new chapter in her life, it means that I will be back to trying to find the right fit. That is why my brain is trying to fathom just what it is that I am passionate about. I guess you could say that I am passionate about my family, my dog (sadly only one of the three if I'm honest), my friends, good books, hard cider and chocolate. Writing should be in there but I have been going through a very dry spell lately and it needs to find its way back onto the list. Writing is one thing that I do well when I take the time to actually do it. Juggling bills and schedules sometimes exhausts me to the point that there is no energy left to write.
I always pictured myself with a cozy little bookstore where people could come to chat, browse and hopefully buy once in awhile. There would be classes and meetings and people would be welcome to drink a cup of coffee and read a good book on their lunch hours. Small independent books stores are becoming extinct though. In order to pay those bills and keep the family afloat I have to actually bring home a paycheck. My small bookstore would have to have some other angle to it that would bring in money because the books themselves can be bought easily from the comfort of your own home on Amazon. There is also the fact that I am a creative person and therefore lack a few essential qualities of running a successful business. I would need a strong partner who isn't as warm, welcoming and accommodating as me. Someone who understands money and how to make it. I know how to spend it--frugally of course.
While this pipe dream winds its way through my brain, it doesn't really help with the question of what is next for me. I have several months before I need to make any decisions. I believe my job is secure until the end of the year. That could change. Maybe someone will come along, buy the company and decide that our awesome team of employees is worth keeping . We are a great team which makes it even harder. I love what I do and who I work with.
Several friends are at a crossroads in their lives as well. It is too bad that we can't come up with a business plan that would work for all of us. While most people are counting sheep I am categorizing possible career choices. If only I were younger. Casting director, funeral director, personal assistant, event coordinator, book buyer............heavy sigh. My goal this year is to find my passion, it can't be gone, just misplaced. I'm sure it is under a couch cushion, in the back of my closet or in a box in the attic. The answers will come, the right opportunity will present itself and all will be harmonious again. I need to remember to stay positive. In the meantime I'll keep daydreaming and wondering if anyone besides me would frequent a cider bar that sells books and chocolate?
I always pictured myself with a cozy little bookstore where people could come to chat, browse and hopefully buy once in awhile. There would be classes and meetings and people would be welcome to drink a cup of coffee and read a good book on their lunch hours. Small independent books stores are becoming extinct though. In order to pay those bills and keep the family afloat I have to actually bring home a paycheck. My small bookstore would have to have some other angle to it that would bring in money because the books themselves can be bought easily from the comfort of your own home on Amazon. There is also the fact that I am a creative person and therefore lack a few essential qualities of running a successful business. I would need a strong partner who isn't as warm, welcoming and accommodating as me. Someone who understands money and how to make it. I know how to spend it--frugally of course.
While this pipe dream winds its way through my brain, it doesn't really help with the question of what is next for me. I have several months before I need to make any decisions. I believe my job is secure until the end of the year. That could change. Maybe someone will come along, buy the company and decide that our awesome team of employees is worth keeping . We are a great team which makes it even harder. I love what I do and who I work with.
Several friends are at a crossroads in their lives as well. It is too bad that we can't come up with a business plan that would work for all of us. While most people are counting sheep I am categorizing possible career choices. If only I were younger. Casting director, funeral director, personal assistant, event coordinator, book buyer............heavy sigh. My goal this year is to find my passion, it can't be gone, just misplaced. I'm sure it is under a couch cushion, in the back of my closet or in a box in the attic. The answers will come, the right opportunity will present itself and all will be harmonious again. I need to remember to stay positive. In the meantime I'll keep daydreaming and wondering if anyone besides me would frequent a cider bar that sells books and chocolate?
Monday, March 24, 2014
Finding Middle Ground
As usual, this may be random, disjointed and sound like it was written by someone with A.D.D.. It was--I am taking a few minutes to clear out the clutter in my head from this last week so that I can wake up tomorrow and be ready for what it brings.
I grew up as the middle child so being in the middle is pretty typical for me. I have spent my life as the peace keeper, the diplomat, the neutral party or whatever other term there is for the "middle man". Sometimes I choose to be in the middle but more often times than not I just find myself there. Being in the middle this past week was probably one of the hardest things that I have had to endure in my life so far.
My Aunt has three "coffee table" books on her beautiful coffee table. I couldn't really tell you what the bottom two are. I know the title of the one on top though. It is called "Women to be Reckoned With". She enjoys stories of strong women who helped tame the west. I jokingly, or maybe not so jokingly tell her that the book should be about her and her three sisters. If you have ever seen Steel Magnolias or any other movies with strong, opinionated Southern women, then you can picture my aunts. My dad is the oldest of 5. He has three younger sisters who adore him and therefore will fight tooth and nail to make sure that he is getting the attention and care that he needs.
As the adult daughter of stubborn parents it isn't easy reassuring everyone that things are under control. My parents are adults themselves and are able to make their own decisions. I have no legal right to overturn any of those decisions. We all have the freedom of choice though our choices may not be understood by all. In the end the choices we make are the one thing that we truly own and they have to be made because they are what is best for us personally whether it is the popular opinion or not.
My father entered the hospital last week with what we thought was complications from pneumonia. We quickly learned that it was more than likely cancer that was making him so sick. No one is ready for an out of the blue cancer announcement. My dad has always been healthy. Until now he had never spent one night in a hospital. Though he was a smoker for years he has spent the past several trying to exercise and stay healthy. His diminished size and sudden weakness was hard for all of us to take. The decision was made by the hospital in White Salmon to send him to The Dalles. Some people did not agree with that decision. They believed the best care was in Portland and if he were to go to Portland things would have gone more quickly as far as getting his biopsy and getting the answers. I respected the doctor in The Dalles and believe that she did things in my dad's best interest. She wanted him a bit more stable before doing the biopsy. When it was apparent that his overall health was not rapidly improving the decision was made. I believe that the cancer has been in his lungs for several months. Waiting a few days for the biopsy was hard on all of us, but in the long run it isn't going to make or break what is or isn't. They know there are cancerous tumors in my father's lungs. They know that my father is too weak for most treatments at this time. Maybe by this time tomorrow we will have the pathology report that tells us what stage he is in and how aggressive his cancer is. It doesn't do any good to wonder if the cigarettes caused the cancer, why it wasn't caught sooner or whether he would be better off anywhere else right now. He is where he wants to be for the most part. He actually wants to be home. I can't blame him. He has endured a lot of poking and prodding this week.
My brother sent me a link called Lung Cancer 101 this morning. It was highly informative and stated that most lung cancer is not detected right away. Once detected it is usually in stage 3 or 4. It quietly grows and takes over while you are either oblivious or thinking it is something much more minor. Two weeks ago I thought pneumonia was bad--now I wish we had that diagnosis again.
Being in the middle has left me bombarded with questions, opinions, frustrations, guilt, anger, sorrow and a list of possible outcomes. I have done my best to sort through things, answer the questions I can, give assurances that all is in control and secretly hope that I am advocating for what my father wants and not for anyone else's agenda. There are those who will say that he is too sick to know what he wants. I beg to differ. He is sick, he is weak, but he is also stubborn. When we get the answers tomorrow I will ask him what he wants. He will be given a voice and choices. I will make sure that he is heard and that he is comfortable, happy and safe.
Days in the hospital are long. The clock moves so slowly as we sit and wait for answers that we may not want to hear. I am trying to keep the faith. A few more years would be nice. Another beach trip, a jam session with friends, that long talked about trip to Texas to visit family or to Nashville for the music.....so many moments I hope to have. He just wants to be home with his wife and his dogs relaxing and living his simple life in familiar surroundings. I always wanted bigger things for my parents than they aspired for. Maybe they have had the right idea the whole time though. Peace, quiet, love and happiness, what more could anyone really want? The answer for now is time.........
I grew up as the middle child so being in the middle is pretty typical for me. I have spent my life as the peace keeper, the diplomat, the neutral party or whatever other term there is for the "middle man". Sometimes I choose to be in the middle but more often times than not I just find myself there. Being in the middle this past week was probably one of the hardest things that I have had to endure in my life so far.
My Aunt has three "coffee table" books on her beautiful coffee table. I couldn't really tell you what the bottom two are. I know the title of the one on top though. It is called "Women to be Reckoned With". She enjoys stories of strong women who helped tame the west. I jokingly, or maybe not so jokingly tell her that the book should be about her and her three sisters. If you have ever seen Steel Magnolias or any other movies with strong, opinionated Southern women, then you can picture my aunts. My dad is the oldest of 5. He has three younger sisters who adore him and therefore will fight tooth and nail to make sure that he is getting the attention and care that he needs.
As the adult daughter of stubborn parents it isn't easy reassuring everyone that things are under control. My parents are adults themselves and are able to make their own decisions. I have no legal right to overturn any of those decisions. We all have the freedom of choice though our choices may not be understood by all. In the end the choices we make are the one thing that we truly own and they have to be made because they are what is best for us personally whether it is the popular opinion or not.
My father entered the hospital last week with what we thought was complications from pneumonia. We quickly learned that it was more than likely cancer that was making him so sick. No one is ready for an out of the blue cancer announcement. My dad has always been healthy. Until now he had never spent one night in a hospital. Though he was a smoker for years he has spent the past several trying to exercise and stay healthy. His diminished size and sudden weakness was hard for all of us to take. The decision was made by the hospital in White Salmon to send him to The Dalles. Some people did not agree with that decision. They believed the best care was in Portland and if he were to go to Portland things would have gone more quickly as far as getting his biopsy and getting the answers. I respected the doctor in The Dalles and believe that she did things in my dad's best interest. She wanted him a bit more stable before doing the biopsy. When it was apparent that his overall health was not rapidly improving the decision was made. I believe that the cancer has been in his lungs for several months. Waiting a few days for the biopsy was hard on all of us, but in the long run it isn't going to make or break what is or isn't. They know there are cancerous tumors in my father's lungs. They know that my father is too weak for most treatments at this time. Maybe by this time tomorrow we will have the pathology report that tells us what stage he is in and how aggressive his cancer is. It doesn't do any good to wonder if the cigarettes caused the cancer, why it wasn't caught sooner or whether he would be better off anywhere else right now. He is where he wants to be for the most part. He actually wants to be home. I can't blame him. He has endured a lot of poking and prodding this week.
My brother sent me a link called Lung Cancer 101 this morning. It was highly informative and stated that most lung cancer is not detected right away. Once detected it is usually in stage 3 or 4. It quietly grows and takes over while you are either oblivious or thinking it is something much more minor. Two weeks ago I thought pneumonia was bad--now I wish we had that diagnosis again.
Being in the middle has left me bombarded with questions, opinions, frustrations, guilt, anger, sorrow and a list of possible outcomes. I have done my best to sort through things, answer the questions I can, give assurances that all is in control and secretly hope that I am advocating for what my father wants and not for anyone else's agenda. There are those who will say that he is too sick to know what he wants. I beg to differ. He is sick, he is weak, but he is also stubborn. When we get the answers tomorrow I will ask him what he wants. He will be given a voice and choices. I will make sure that he is heard and that he is comfortable, happy and safe.
Days in the hospital are long. The clock moves so slowly as we sit and wait for answers that we may not want to hear. I am trying to keep the faith. A few more years would be nice. Another beach trip, a jam session with friends, that long talked about trip to Texas to visit family or to Nashville for the music.....so many moments I hope to have. He just wants to be home with his wife and his dogs relaxing and living his simple life in familiar surroundings. I always wanted bigger things for my parents than they aspired for. Maybe they have had the right idea the whole time though. Peace, quiet, love and happiness, what more could anyone really want? The answer for now is time.........
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Well, it's Cancer.........
At the end of February they said my dad had pneumonia. At 80 years old and being somewhat frail this alarmed me. I was worried but they didn't want to hospitalize him. I couldn't understand this since every day you hear of older people dying of pneumonia. It doesn't take muck for them to get dehydrated and to decline rapidly. I needed to go visit, but couldn't. First there was the awful virus that I had which had me coughing and feeling like crap. He didn't need to be exposed to that. Then there was the super busy weekend at work that I needed to prepare for and work and the freak ice and snow storm in the gorge. All of these reasons why I couldn't drive the hour to my parents house to visit them and see how things were going. I took their word for it and worried from afar. Pneumonia isn't something to mess around with.
Sunday night I called. He sounded great for the first three quarters of our conversation. He was upbeat, sounded strong and was telling me how much better he was doing. Then the coughing started. It was a scary cough. It didn't sound like he was getting better. He dropped the phone. I yelled for him and for mom for a few minutes. I wanted to get their attention so they could pick up the phone and tell me everything was okay. They didn't pick up the phone but I could hear them talking and watching television in the background so I hung up. I tried to call back but of course the phone was off the hook and they weren't answering the cell phone. I told myself I worry too much. I could always call back Monday night and check in.
Monday morning started like all Monday mornings. A little frantic, busy at work, trying to prioritize the week and get ready for another busy weekend of events. My job as the scheduler is challenging at times with ever changing circumstances and the fine details involved. I was trying to figure out how to juggle everything to make it work when my cell phone rang. My brother was calling to tell me that dad was in the hospital and that he had lung cancer. How do things change so fast? He was home the night before getting over pneumonia. Pneumonia is curable. I just wanted him to go to the hospital, rest, get some IV fluids, find a strong enough antibiotic and be back to normal in a week or two. It is noon on Monday--how does he suddenly have cancer?
My heart breaks as I hear about him waking up in the middle of the night looking for people who weren't there and having conversations with the invisible ones who were. Hearing how he fell several times, refused to let mom call and ambulance and fell again in the yard as she talked him into going to the hospital in the car. She was in her pajamas, her phone was dead, she didn't have our numbers and didn't want to bother anyone anyway. She sat in the hospital alone and waiting. She was alone when the doctor walked in and said "well, it's cancer." Cancer wasn't on her radar. It wasn't on any one's radar. The doctor was so blunt. I know that maybe blunt is best, but a little warning would have been nice. Having support there with her would have been nice. How could I be oblivious at work? I know my brothers feel the same way. We were all hit hard by it yesterday. What happened to pneumonia? Apparently the x-rays of his lungs were hazy and they thought it was pneumonia. Further x-rays showed the truth. The proposed truth. I haven't seen them yet, I haven't talked to a doctor yet--I have so many questions.
Kyle made the trip down the gorge with me yesterday. We picked up my Aunt and headed to the hospital in The Dalles. My dad went from hallucinating to lucid and back again. He asked the nurse if there was an extra bed for me in his room. I told him I had to leave but would be back the next day. He told me not to waste the gas--he'd be home the next day. I told him fine--I would visit him at home. It was hard leaving him last night. I know I will be heading back that way in a few hours and plan to stay tonight. I am hoping for some answers. I need to know as much as possible so we can plan for the coming days, weeks, months and hopefully years. I am trying to be positive so I can squelch the dread in the pit of my stomach. His age and overall health are against us, but he is a fighter.
So many things go through your mind when you hear news that changes everything. My excuses for not visiting sounded stupid. I haven't gotten around to recording his music onto a CD--I have a cassette floating around somewhere lost. I need to have his music. I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have when I was young. There aren't enough pictures of me and him together. I want a picture of me and my dad when I was little. I know there must be several in the boxes and boxes of pictures, but there are too many and I don't have time to dig through pictures right now. I am just lost. I feel like a little girl. Helpless and scared-- I'm not ready to lose my daddy.
Sunday night I called. He sounded great for the first three quarters of our conversation. He was upbeat, sounded strong and was telling me how much better he was doing. Then the coughing started. It was a scary cough. It didn't sound like he was getting better. He dropped the phone. I yelled for him and for mom for a few minutes. I wanted to get their attention so they could pick up the phone and tell me everything was okay. They didn't pick up the phone but I could hear them talking and watching television in the background so I hung up. I tried to call back but of course the phone was off the hook and they weren't answering the cell phone. I told myself I worry too much. I could always call back Monday night and check in.
Monday morning started like all Monday mornings. A little frantic, busy at work, trying to prioritize the week and get ready for another busy weekend of events. My job as the scheduler is challenging at times with ever changing circumstances and the fine details involved. I was trying to figure out how to juggle everything to make it work when my cell phone rang. My brother was calling to tell me that dad was in the hospital and that he had lung cancer. How do things change so fast? He was home the night before getting over pneumonia. Pneumonia is curable. I just wanted him to go to the hospital, rest, get some IV fluids, find a strong enough antibiotic and be back to normal in a week or two. It is noon on Monday--how does he suddenly have cancer?
My heart breaks as I hear about him waking up in the middle of the night looking for people who weren't there and having conversations with the invisible ones who were. Hearing how he fell several times, refused to let mom call and ambulance and fell again in the yard as she talked him into going to the hospital in the car. She was in her pajamas, her phone was dead, she didn't have our numbers and didn't want to bother anyone anyway. She sat in the hospital alone and waiting. She was alone when the doctor walked in and said "well, it's cancer." Cancer wasn't on her radar. It wasn't on any one's radar. The doctor was so blunt. I know that maybe blunt is best, but a little warning would have been nice. Having support there with her would have been nice. How could I be oblivious at work? I know my brothers feel the same way. We were all hit hard by it yesterday. What happened to pneumonia? Apparently the x-rays of his lungs were hazy and they thought it was pneumonia. Further x-rays showed the truth. The proposed truth. I haven't seen them yet, I haven't talked to a doctor yet--I have so many questions.
Kyle made the trip down the gorge with me yesterday. We picked up my Aunt and headed to the hospital in The Dalles. My dad went from hallucinating to lucid and back again. He asked the nurse if there was an extra bed for me in his room. I told him I had to leave but would be back the next day. He told me not to waste the gas--he'd be home the next day. I told him fine--I would visit him at home. It was hard leaving him last night. I know I will be heading back that way in a few hours and plan to stay tonight. I am hoping for some answers. I need to know as much as possible so we can plan for the coming days, weeks, months and hopefully years. I am trying to be positive so I can squelch the dread in the pit of my stomach. His age and overall health are against us, but he is a fighter.
So many things go through your mind when you hear news that changes everything. My excuses for not visiting sounded stupid. I haven't gotten around to recording his music onto a CD--I have a cassette floating around somewhere lost. I need to have his music. I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have when I was young. There aren't enough pictures of me and him together. I want a picture of me and my dad when I was little. I know there must be several in the boxes and boxes of pictures, but there are too many and I don't have time to dig through pictures right now. I am just lost. I feel like a little girl. Helpless and scared-- I'm not ready to lose my daddy.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Random Musings
Since I re-post my blog posts onto my Facebook page I should remind people that the name of my blog page is Rediscovering, Reinventing and Rewriting......Stories, Musings and Random Babbling. With that in mind you can understand a bit more why some of my posts are pretty random and may lack direction. When I haven't written in awhile there is a lot of stuff rattling around in my head which needs to just be cleared out. Kind of like the junk and cobweb in the attic. I used to be able to sit down and mindlessly write whatever came to mind. Lately I believe I have been over thinking things. I try to be funny, serious or whatever it is I think I need to be on a given day. I need to go back to just going from the gut and not thinking much about it at all. It is Random Musing so if it doesn't flow right or make sense, no worries. It doesn't always have to!
I think I lost my sense of humor recently. I have been looking everywhere for it, but it isn't in any of the usual places. I hate taking myself seriously. I guess I am supposed to--turning 48 was surreal, I know age is just a number, but 48 is different. I need to get over the fact that I am definitely middle aged, I have been in denial until now. My early 40's didn't bug me; I felt a little more adultish but not ancient. I realize that 48 isn't ancient by any means, but it is alarmingly close to 50. I have high hopes for my 50's, but what about my 60's, 70's and 80's. I need to start getting a little more serious about those healthy changes I always daydream about making. Just yesterday I was 30 which means tomorrow I will be 60. Time flies so much faster as we age. My reading glasses have gone from helpful to necessary, I have occasional short hot flashes which are irritating and I'm starting to get a little more forgetful. It would be interesting to know how many times I actually put deodorant on in the morning. I can never quite remember if I did or not--I bet there are mornings when I put it on three times. I guess over doing it is better than not putting any on at all.
With the loss of my sense of humor I have been having to do mandatory things like work full time. I haven't done that in years. I am so sorry to all of my hard working friends and family who couldn't make time for lunch, movies or fun weekends. The time for those things is hard to find when you are working. I get it now! I love my job but am wiped out at the end of most days. I can't fill every night of the week anymore, I used to be on the go constantly. I need two or three nights to just chill out now. Crap, I'm 48--am I supposed to say chill out? I need to relax more often than before. I work occasional weekends-my free weekends are spent cleaning, doing laundry, paying bills and trying to do all of the things I used to do when I had more free time. Facebook is no longer a daily thing, blogging has become harder to accomplish once a week and I go weeks without calling people that I really need to call. I have never liked the telephone, but lately I like it even less. I need to make more of an effort to call my mom, my aunt, my mother-in-law, my two sons who don't live with me, my brothers and friends. That is a lot of people to call--I would much rather e-mail or text. My 22 year old son informed me that he was going to go ahead and visit my husband last night even though I wouldn't be home because at least my husband calls him to check in. I text--shouldn't that count? I try to put important things in my Facebook Status so that friends and family see them. I know they would rather get phone calls. I get that. I wouldn't post super important life events like births, deaths or terminal illness on there before calling certain family members and friends, but it is the fastest way to get other news out there quickly without spending endless hours on the phone saying the same thing over and over and over......I swear I am not whining, just trying to justify my preference for e-mail and social media. I know it isn't as personal. For those of you who are awaiting phone calls from me-have mercy and allow me to e-mail and text the majority of the time--please! I would like to look at my cell phone and not feel tremendous guilt for not actually using it to make phone calls. I use it as an alarm clock, the check the weather, to play Words With Friends, to check my e-mails, text my children, listen to music and occasionally to Google something. The actual phone feature is probably used the least. I have a lot of available minutes left over each month! I am digressing from my lost sense of humor. I guess I am blaming my guilty conscience for not being in touch with relatives on my increasingly grumpy moments.
Recently my daughter told me that she prefers me when I am hanging with friends relaxing and being silly. She doesn't like seeing my serious side--I am different and not much fun. I want to be fun more often but can't justify humor 24/7. I have to be somewhat grown up since I am 48 now. Not everyone is amused when I channel my 13 year old boy silliness or make sarcastic remarks. Luckily they put up with me at work. Sometimes they even laugh at my jokes. I guess I do have a bit of a sense of humor. I have to in order to cope. I handle stress best when I can laugh about it. There are those who frown and think I don't take life seriously enough. Those people need to see my super serious home side when I am trying to balance the check book or figure out how to juggle my to do list. I don't laugh at home as much as I should. Wow, I just solved the mystery--my sense of humor is somewhere in my desk at work. I will dig it out tomorrow and bring it home with me! My seriousness at home seems to stem from the guilt that I am not managing my time wisely. There are nights where I actually plop down on the couch and watch mindless television for an hour or so. I could be using that time to make phone calls, clean the house or pay bills so I don't have to waste precious weekend time doing chores. I am getting old. As a teen I would never have lumped phone calls in with chores.
I vow to quit harping on my advancing age. I will stay the same silly, random person I have always been both at work and at home. I will attempt to laugh at home at least once a day and occasionally pick up the telephone. Am I the only person who sometimes picks up my cell phone and listens for a dial tone? I really shouldn't admit to that, but it has happened more than once recently. Of course I am the only one who knows what I am doing. Others probably just think I am making a call~which is something I should do now. Since I have figured out where my sense of humor is I can stop writing and go call my mother.
I think I lost my sense of humor recently. I have been looking everywhere for it, but it isn't in any of the usual places. I hate taking myself seriously. I guess I am supposed to--turning 48 was surreal, I know age is just a number, but 48 is different. I need to get over the fact that I am definitely middle aged, I have been in denial until now. My early 40's didn't bug me; I felt a little more adultish but not ancient. I realize that 48 isn't ancient by any means, but it is alarmingly close to 50. I have high hopes for my 50's, but what about my 60's, 70's and 80's. I need to start getting a little more serious about those healthy changes I always daydream about making. Just yesterday I was 30 which means tomorrow I will be 60. Time flies so much faster as we age. My reading glasses have gone from helpful to necessary, I have occasional short hot flashes which are irritating and I'm starting to get a little more forgetful. It would be interesting to know how many times I actually put deodorant on in the morning. I can never quite remember if I did or not--I bet there are mornings when I put it on three times. I guess over doing it is better than not putting any on at all.
With the loss of my sense of humor I have been having to do mandatory things like work full time. I haven't done that in years. I am so sorry to all of my hard working friends and family who couldn't make time for lunch, movies or fun weekends. The time for those things is hard to find when you are working. I get it now! I love my job but am wiped out at the end of most days. I can't fill every night of the week anymore, I used to be on the go constantly. I need two or three nights to just chill out now. Crap, I'm 48--am I supposed to say chill out? I need to relax more often than before. I work occasional weekends-my free weekends are spent cleaning, doing laundry, paying bills and trying to do all of the things I used to do when I had more free time. Facebook is no longer a daily thing, blogging has become harder to accomplish once a week and I go weeks without calling people that I really need to call. I have never liked the telephone, but lately I like it even less. I need to make more of an effort to call my mom, my aunt, my mother-in-law, my two sons who don't live with me, my brothers and friends. That is a lot of people to call--I would much rather e-mail or text. My 22 year old son informed me that he was going to go ahead and visit my husband last night even though I wouldn't be home because at least my husband calls him to check in. I text--shouldn't that count? I try to put important things in my Facebook Status so that friends and family see them. I know they would rather get phone calls. I get that. I wouldn't post super important life events like births, deaths or terminal illness on there before calling certain family members and friends, but it is the fastest way to get other news out there quickly without spending endless hours on the phone saying the same thing over and over and over......I swear I am not whining, just trying to justify my preference for e-mail and social media. I know it isn't as personal. For those of you who are awaiting phone calls from me-have mercy and allow me to e-mail and text the majority of the time--please! I would like to look at my cell phone and not feel tremendous guilt for not actually using it to make phone calls. I use it as an alarm clock, the check the weather, to play Words With Friends, to check my e-mails, text my children, listen to music and occasionally to Google something. The actual phone feature is probably used the least. I have a lot of available minutes left over each month! I am digressing from my lost sense of humor. I guess I am blaming my guilty conscience for not being in touch with relatives on my increasingly grumpy moments.
Recently my daughter told me that she prefers me when I am hanging with friends relaxing and being silly. She doesn't like seeing my serious side--I am different and not much fun. I want to be fun more often but can't justify humor 24/7. I have to be somewhat grown up since I am 48 now. Not everyone is amused when I channel my 13 year old boy silliness or make sarcastic remarks. Luckily they put up with me at work. Sometimes they even laugh at my jokes. I guess I do have a bit of a sense of humor. I have to in order to cope. I handle stress best when I can laugh about it. There are those who frown and think I don't take life seriously enough. Those people need to see my super serious home side when I am trying to balance the check book or figure out how to juggle my to do list. I don't laugh at home as much as I should. Wow, I just solved the mystery--my sense of humor is somewhere in my desk at work. I will dig it out tomorrow and bring it home with me! My seriousness at home seems to stem from the guilt that I am not managing my time wisely. There are nights where I actually plop down on the couch and watch mindless television for an hour or so. I could be using that time to make phone calls, clean the house or pay bills so I don't have to waste precious weekend time doing chores. I am getting old. As a teen I would never have lumped phone calls in with chores.
I vow to quit harping on my advancing age. I will stay the same silly, random person I have always been both at work and at home. I will attempt to laugh at home at least once a day and occasionally pick up the telephone. Am I the only person who sometimes picks up my cell phone and listens for a dial tone? I really shouldn't admit to that, but it has happened more than once recently. Of course I am the only one who knows what I am doing. Others probably just think I am making a call~which is something I should do now. Since I have figured out where my sense of humor is I can stop writing and go call my mother.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Annoying Dog Mom
Have you ever seen one of those annoying dog mom's who talk baby talk to their dogs, treat them like humans and get offended by people thinking anything even remotely negative about their dogs? Well, I've become one of them. I didn't intend for this to happen. I was happy being the owner of a couple of dogs who are nice enough, even family members, but not connected to me as much as other dogs in the past. Last January my family coerced me into getting a puppy. I was not thrilled with the idea. I had often said that if we were ever to get another dog it would be an older rescue. I barely survived Sydney's puppy hood and there was no way in Hell I would go through that again. Like many mothers, I have a hard time saying no to my youngest. As the baby his siblings often label him as the "favorite" child and believe he has it so much better than they ever did. I don't agree with that. I believe that each child is loved and has gotten perks that the others didn't. Nicholas is my firstborn, Kelli is the only girl and much to his dismay, Kyle is the baby. His injury last January deeply upset me and made me susceptible to moments of weakness. I can only say that I must have been momentarily possessed when I agreed to a pit bull rescue puppy. I am not a stranger to pit bulls. We had a couple of very sweet ones when I was in high school. They have big hearts and are unfailingly loyal. They love with all of their being and want only to please their people. This naive desire to please is what gets them into trouble. Many dogs of this breed have been trained to fight or have been abused so badly that it is their only recourse. They have gotten a bad rap. No one looked at lovable Pete, the dog friend of the Little Rascals and claimed that he was dangerous and would probably mall one of the kids on the set. I have seen viscous dogs of all breeds. Believe me if poodles, shih tzus and chihuahuas weren't so little they would be in the headlines daily. Those little things can be mean and like to bite. Don't even get me started on mini dachshunds or mini pincher's. Pit bulls are big, they are strong, and when you run into a bad one it does more damage then other breeds. That doesn't mean that the whole breed is bad. They are completely misunderstood, labeled and unfairly hated. For this reason I was not keen on the idea of bringing one into our home. I knew all to well how neighbors would feel and the public would react to him.
As I said, I lost the battle and Rooney was picked up and brought home on a Sunday while I was at work. The dog was to be Kyle's so I didn't have any choice in which dog he would get so the family went to the shelter without me. They went to look at a puppy they had seen on line. They made the trip across the Columbia to a little shelter in Washougal, Washington. The dog that had caught their attention was spoken for but he had siblings and there were other puppies at the shelter. Rooney won their hearts and I came home to a little guy who was cuter than I wanted to admit. He was a fast learner and was soon potty trained and didn't do as much damage in chewing as I expected him to. Unlike Sydney he didn't dig giant holes in the grass, eat my shoes or wreak havoc with the neighbors. He was sad that the two older female dogs weren't readily charmed by his cuteness and didn't want to cuddle with him. He cuddled with everyone else. He was affectionate and before I knew it, I was hooked. I worried about him being in his kennel too long, I bought him toys at Ross where they are cheaper, created a toy box for him and spoiled him rotten. When no one is around I talk baby talk to him. It makes me throw up in my mouth when I realize what I'm doing, but I go on doing it. He is sweet and deserves to be loved back. He wants the world to love him. When new people come into the house it is hard to control his enthusiasm. He wants to kiss them and play with them and make them his best friends. He doesn't understand how big he is and that for most people he isn't really a lap dog. Our family has adjusted. We cuddle on the couch with him and treat him like the lap dog he believes he is. We deal with the occasional eaten sock and the "pit fits". His pit fit is when all of the sudden he just has so much energy that he picks up a toy and runs full speed through the house several times. He circles things, knocks a few things over and jumps furniture. When he is finished he drops on the floor exhausted by his efforts and gives a big loud sigh that signals that he is ready for a long nap.
My daughter informed me today that although Rooney is cute, he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. This made me sad. I don't want anyone to think he is stupid. He is my baby. He is big, clumsy and sweet. He may chase his tail and think that the dogs on TV will come out and play with him, but he isn't a complete idiot. He can undo knots in ropes and socks, he shares his toys with Sydney by playing with it in front of her, then pushing it over to her. He does taunt her with toys at times, but that is when he is trying to get her to play.
We also have a neighbor who lives next door to the house behind us. Sometimes Rooney lifts himself up to look over the fence to see what is going on in their yard. He is super curious. He likes to get into grocery bags, boxes and laundry baskets. He just likes to see what things are and when he hears a noise in the yard he wants to investigate. The irate man came to inform us that our pit bull looks at them and that they feel threatened because they have dogs and kids. Well, we have dogs and kids. We feel completely safe. He do our best to keep Rooney away from the fence now. That neighbor doesn't deserve Rooney's curiosity. He is shortsighted and shallow minded. See--I am labeling a man I don't even know because he dared to make assumptions about my dog. I've lost it. I take pictures of him watching TV with me. We record Pit bulls and parolees every Saturday night because he loves that show. I love that show. When I first heard the title I pictured something completely different. When I watched if for the first time and learned what big hearts they had and the passion they have for the rescue work they do I was hooked. Like many on the show who adopt rescue dogs, they end up believing it was actually the dog who rescued them. Does Rooney make me a better person? Maybe. He makes me laugh, exasperates me at times and loves me with the unconditional, adoring love that only a dog can give. My children are growing up and distancing themselves from me. They are becoming their own people and asserting their independence. My motherly instincts are now focused on a 70 pound pit bull who has stolen my heart. I am not the over the top annoying dog mom, but annoying dog mom I am. :)
As I said, I lost the battle and Rooney was picked up and brought home on a Sunday while I was at work. The dog was to be Kyle's so I didn't have any choice in which dog he would get so the family went to the shelter without me. They went to look at a puppy they had seen on line. They made the trip across the Columbia to a little shelter in Washougal, Washington. The dog that had caught their attention was spoken for but he had siblings and there were other puppies at the shelter. Rooney won their hearts and I came home to a little guy who was cuter than I wanted to admit. He was a fast learner and was soon potty trained and didn't do as much damage in chewing as I expected him to. Unlike Sydney he didn't dig giant holes in the grass, eat my shoes or wreak havoc with the neighbors. He was sad that the two older female dogs weren't readily charmed by his cuteness and didn't want to cuddle with him. He cuddled with everyone else. He was affectionate and before I knew it, I was hooked. I worried about him being in his kennel too long, I bought him toys at Ross where they are cheaper, created a toy box for him and spoiled him rotten. When no one is around I talk baby talk to him. It makes me throw up in my mouth when I realize what I'm doing, but I go on doing it. He is sweet and deserves to be loved back. He wants the world to love him. When new people come into the house it is hard to control his enthusiasm. He wants to kiss them and play with them and make them his best friends. He doesn't understand how big he is and that for most people he isn't really a lap dog. Our family has adjusted. We cuddle on the couch with him and treat him like the lap dog he believes he is. We deal with the occasional eaten sock and the "pit fits". His pit fit is when all of the sudden he just has so much energy that he picks up a toy and runs full speed through the house several times. He circles things, knocks a few things over and jumps furniture. When he is finished he drops on the floor exhausted by his efforts and gives a big loud sigh that signals that he is ready for a long nap.
My daughter informed me today that although Rooney is cute, he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. This made me sad. I don't want anyone to think he is stupid. He is my baby. He is big, clumsy and sweet. He may chase his tail and think that the dogs on TV will come out and play with him, but he isn't a complete idiot. He can undo knots in ropes and socks, he shares his toys with Sydney by playing with it in front of her, then pushing it over to her. He does taunt her with toys at times, but that is when he is trying to get her to play.
We also have a neighbor who lives next door to the house behind us. Sometimes Rooney lifts himself up to look over the fence to see what is going on in their yard. He is super curious. He likes to get into grocery bags, boxes and laundry baskets. He just likes to see what things are and when he hears a noise in the yard he wants to investigate. The irate man came to inform us that our pit bull looks at them and that they feel threatened because they have dogs and kids. Well, we have dogs and kids. We feel completely safe. He do our best to keep Rooney away from the fence now. That neighbor doesn't deserve Rooney's curiosity. He is shortsighted and shallow minded. See--I am labeling a man I don't even know because he dared to make assumptions about my dog. I've lost it. I take pictures of him watching TV with me. We record Pit bulls and parolees every Saturday night because he loves that show. I love that show. When I first heard the title I pictured something completely different. When I watched if for the first time and learned what big hearts they had and the passion they have for the rescue work they do I was hooked. Like many on the show who adopt rescue dogs, they end up believing it was actually the dog who rescued them. Does Rooney make me a better person? Maybe. He makes me laugh, exasperates me at times and loves me with the unconditional, adoring love that only a dog can give. My children are growing up and distancing themselves from me. They are becoming their own people and asserting their independence. My motherly instincts are now focused on a 70 pound pit bull who has stolen my heart. I am not the over the top annoying dog mom, but annoying dog mom I am. :)
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