Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday! Corey, on the left, is 35 today and Stacy was 38 on the first of the month! They're about 2 and 5 in this photo. Who knew that they'd grow up to be such amazing strong women?!

Quote

"Creativity is medicine. The more we use it, the more steadily and readily and easily we use it. The more we ground it and regularly access it, the better off we are. The 'healthier' we are."

Julia Cameron - "Walking in This World"

Catching Up!

The reason for the hiatus on this blog is twofold. To my delight and surprise I was invited by my youngest daughter and her husband to go to Cape Cod for 4 days in Sept. Not only was Cape Cod somewhere I had always envisioned seeing, but the opportunity of spending time with three of my favorite people was too good to pass up. Jack is at that great age, 3 and a half, when it doesn't take much to entertain him or bore him and happily he thought I was pretty good at entertaining him during the car part of the trip. The four of us had never traveled together and I found that I was a bit anxious about slowing down their usual vacation pace. My fears were unfounded. Once I was on the plane headed to Boston a lot of the syptoms I'd been struggling with for months seemed to have stayed home allowing me to take a vaction from them. The weather was outstanding with none the heat and humidity I had expected and the area proved to be everything I'd envisioned.


Then when I returned home word came that Stacy was going to have a much-needed hysterectomy on Oct. 4th. and suddenly I couldn't write one word in any of my journals! At a time when writing might have helped me through the rough days I was frozen. I also couldn't create visual art. I had no idea just how depressed and anxious I was and once the practice of journaling stoppped I couldn't get started again. All of my intentions to write about the vacation didn't come to fruition once the date for surgery was made. It's now weeks later and I'm just now getting some of my equilibrium back. Inthe last couple of days I've been able to put pen to paper again but not without a nagging sense of unfinished business. And then it occurred to me that if I just listed the events rather than fill in the details I could put those weeks behind me and start the practice of journaling again. I felt completely unbalanced during the weeks I wasn't journaling and at odds with myself and the world.

The list is in my private journal, but suffice it to say that the month before and after Stacy's surgery was extremely rocky. We came close to losing her a couple of days after the surgery. Morphine and renal failure aren't a good combination. She saw the surgeon yesterday who told her that she's doing remarkably well and has healed better than most of his patients do. She hasn't had anything for pain since the 5th day after the complete hysterectomy and didn't have what he refers to as the "after surgery shuffle" where most women walk into his office bent over, holding their stomachs and barely lifting their feet off of the ground. Stacy has a completely different outlook on pain than most people do. She doesn't expect to be in pain so mostly she dismisses the discomfort. Seizures, however, are a different matter! We had expected that she might not have as many once her periods stopped, but that doesn't seem to be the case. . . and so it goes.

Middle Age

Middle age is when you still

belive you'll feel better in the

morning.

Bob Hope

Rocky Point and Other Musings

A favorite quote:

"I have been through some terrible things in my life-
some of which actually happened. "
Mark Twain

A visitor to this blog commented that I sound like I'm always whinning or worried about something and that she wouldn't be returning because she didn't want to read anything that was so depressing. I chewed on that for awhile and nearly deleted most, it not, all of the entries and then it occurred to me that perhaps I should clarify why I write here.

First off, no one needs to read this blog and secondly if I don't write about some of the challenges in my life then I carry them with me from one day to the next. And while it may seem that all I report about are the crises from a "poor-me-state-of-mind" I've never felt that my life is anything other than what it is. A life that only I can live and no matter how rocky it is at times I don't pine for something other than what it is. Acceptance, comes to mind. Acceptance in that this is what my life is during this visit here on Earth.

I have deep Spiritual Beliefs that are personal to the degree that I rarely ever talk about them. I don't feel that what I believe to be true is anyone's business but my own. Yes, I am overwhelmed at times by the challenges, especially when they seem to continue to repeat themselves like a broken record. (What would we do without cliches?!) And yes, life often comes to a standstill when yet another challenge grabs a hold of those around me. Lessons aren't all easily learned.

It's said that God is in the details and I believe that to be true even when the details are a jumbled mess of one challenge after another. I read something recently that has a great affect on me: Samantha Runnion was taken from her grandmother's home in 2002 and while her mother, Erin, was out looking for her she heard a voice shouting, "This isn't about you--nothing's happening to you--Samantha's the one who is in pain and afraid--get up and find her." Tragically, Samantha's body was found and the grieving started. Or, was it tragic? Erin has started Samantha's PRIDE, so perhaps that was Samantha's purpose for such a short life.

I have been grieving about Stacy for nearly 38 years and the process has been a long and often pain filled one, but when I remember that what she is going through is about her and not about me then I'm able to better handle the daily challenges. I have always felt a deep spiritual connection between Stacy and myself, but that is private and something I'm not ready to write about on a blog.

So, at this Point in my life this is where I am at; things are Rocky but there is also joy and days full of art and creative people that the internet has brought into my life. And I truly believe that heal with each other's stories.

Question Everything!

I should make a sign that says, "Question Everything" because it wasn't until yesterday driving home from the dialysis clinic that I realized why I feel so rotten!! I'm once again anemic! I've had chronic anemia for the last 30 some years so you'd think that I'd know the signs, but I imagine that the stress over the last few months led me to believe I was just exhausted and having an FM flare-up. When the anemia is factored in I become so slug-like that I can't even crawl out of bed and taking a shower is even difficult. I wish that I had caught on sooner because it takes me awhile to respond to the iron supplement that I'm prescribed. Six months ago my blood levels were finally in a good place after being on the prescription for two years so I was only on a maintenance program. I should have known better! Now I'm paying a high price for once again believing that a doctor could be correct in telling me that I would continue to improve. One step forward, two backward!

Six Days Later

Stacy and I were so optimistic last weekend when she felt better than she had in months, but things started crashing on July 4th when she had a small seizure. She's had three more since then along with a migraine and the nausea/vomiting that goes along with it. Her health issues along with not being to finish any of my numerous projects has proved to once again put me into the overwhelmed mode and I woke this morning with a migraine-from-hell. We make a sad pair!
Last Sunday Stacy woke me with, "Mommeeee, I'm leaking!" Two of the four gauze dressings on her chest were indeed leaking. We've been through a lot together but I nearly fainted when I removed the bandages and did the best I could to repack the areas around both the removed and new catheter sites! I ended up kneeling on the floor in front of her and kept putting my head down hoping that I wouldn't faint, but at least if I did I was already on the floor! She kept asking me if I was okay, "Fine, I'm just trying to figure out how to do this." Yeah, right! I barely got the last bit of tape on, stumbled to her bed and collapsed. Yesterday I got the Mommmeeeee signal again; it's the tone of the mommeee that always tells me that something isn't right. This time I only broke out into a sweat when I changed the dressings! We see the surgeon on Tuesday, the first appointment I could get for her! I think that the drain in the removed catheter site has been in a little too long, but I'm certainly not messing with it.

Since July 1, the night Stacy got home from the hospital, she's made the couch her command post. Being that she isn't sleeping in her bed I now have one more place to stack projects on! I'm in the process of making a fabric journal and her bed is the perfect place to cut the fabric pieces. Why put the fabric away? I was looking through boxes of photographs yesterday and those too are now on her bed.
Before we moved into this tiny duplex in 1985 we lived in a cabin in the Big Sur area, Palo Colorado Canyon, and my bed was in the living room. When we moved into this one bedroom place I ended up once again with my bed in the living room. After Corey left home I did consider moving into the bedroom, but it's crammed full of wall-to-wall furniture and I couldn't figure out how to re-arrange the house.
Often for a few nights after a hospitalization Stacy will sleep on the couch a few feet from my bed. Once she becomes tired of not having control of the TV remote she leaves the couch for her own double bed and TV. This time she says she's going to stay on the couch forever! Can't say that I mind having her close by what with her seizures and dizzy spells.
It's now 2:30 and I haven't made my bed, why bother this late in the day? So here we are with two messy beds in the living room and pounding heads! But at least the sun is shining!

Stacy and her furkid protector

At first glance the manipulated photo appears to be interesting shapes, but upon further inspection two of the shapes become a cat and a nearly hidden face.

MizRiley takes her job of protecting Stacy very seriously. This is their favorite way of taking a nap on the couch. There is a permanent sag on the back cushion where MizRiley has carved out a place for her plump self. One paw needs to be touching Stacy at all times which makes for some amusing cat positions. The photo taken 6/26, the day before the last "Hospital Adventure," pretty well sums up just how sick she was!

I met the young surgeon late Wednesday night and he had changed his tune since he first presented his opinion of what should be done for Stacy. We had a good talk and he said that while his first thought was to do what is normally done for dialysis patients, either a fistula or graft, he realized that Stacy has special needs and he would be only to happy to make things easier for her! Ah! A man after my own heart!

At midnight we got the word that the procedure to remove the infected catheter would be at 7:30. After only about 3 hours sleep I walked the halls in the hospital praying and attempting to squash the anxiety I was having. I had complete faith in the surgeon, it was Stacy's fears and trauma that I was concerned about.
After all it was only five years ago that she wouldn't go into the OR without me donning a gown, mask and gloves so that I could be with her when they put her under. Not a pleasant experience, no parent should ever go into the OR and see a tray of scalpels, etc. Four years ago I waited with her in the "staging" area just before she was wheeled into the OR and I wondered what this time would be like.

The nurse woke Stacy up at 6:15 and the first thing Stacy said was, "I'm not going to like this! It's going to feel strange without the catheter and I'm going to miss it." I sat on her bed and we said our goodbyes to the catheter that had been good to her for 4 years but now it "needed" to understand that it was time for a new one. Stacy decided I was being ridiculous saying goodbye to it, but it did give her some peace of mind and a good laugh.

I kissed her at the door to the OR and watched her go off through the doors and prayed that they wouldn't be sending for me. At 9:00 I was invited into post-op and there she was sitting up on a gurney chatting away with an RN, Jeri, who said, "Can I adopt her? She's the greatest patient I've had in a long time and so sweet." Stacy said, "My mom needs me so you can't adopt me." Jeri smiled and said, "I imagine that your mother does need you, but I'm hoping that I get to be your nurse tomorrow when they put in your new catheter, will that be okay with you." "Yep, you can have me."

Before she was released from post-op the surgeon came in to tell me that the preliminary lab tests were showing major Staph around the tubing and tissue samples and could have been there for up to a year! No wonder she's been so ill!!! The rest of the day went by fairly well, but I couldn't sleep again that night. Surgery was sheduled for 10:45 and this one involved two incisions . . .

"See ya in the room when I wake up," she said as she was wheeled through the doors to the OR! "It'll be a piece of cake she added." At noon the Pink Lady Volunteer stood in front of me, her eyes wide and said, "They say your daughter is waiting for you in post-op. I'll take you." On the way she said, "I've never taken anyone into post-op, it just isn't done. No family is ever allowed in there, so I'm sure curious about why you get to go in." I wanted to say something like, "She's in the witness protection program," or, "She's famous and we keep a good eye on her," but I just smiled and said that "she has brain damage and it's easier on her and the nurses if I'm in there." The volunteer said, "I guess she's pretty special then." I said, "You have no idea."

Jeri greeted me with, "I won the coin toss and got her as my patient again." And two RN's saying, "we lost!" Stacy said, "They were fighting over me but the best one won."

She was back in her room at 12:30, ate lunch and dialysis started at 2:30 in the new catheter. I came home and was under the impression that Mom would be able to bring Stacy home around 6:30. I had a good cry; a mixture of relief, fatigue and frustration over not having the infection discovered sooner! Starting at 6:00 Mom phoned every 30 minutes with an update until 10:00 when Mom finally said, "We'll be there in a few minutes!" Talk about anxiety! Mom doesn't hold up well and was probably more exhauted than I was. I'd gotten in a two hour nap when I got home and Mom had been up since 6am and she is 78 years old! The hold-up was that the lab tests following dialysis indicated a low reading of the antibiotic she'd had on Thursday so before Stacy could be released she needed another round of it and that takes about an hour.

Today, Saturday, is quiet and we're all so numb and worn out than none of us can summon up enough energy to talk or get out of our robes.

The forecast is - tense!

The wake-up call came at 7:10 this morning when the dialysis nurse burst into the room just ahead of the construction workers outside who like to start their day by shouting at each other at 7:20. Stacy had a rough night and mine wasn't much better. Cat naps seem to be the only kind of sleep I get and I wake up disoriented and anxious. The surgeon seems to have a "an opinion" of what he thinks should be done for Stacy. There was talk about removing the dialysis catheter and implanting a new one but the very young surgeon thinks it's time to try another fistula meaning needles which means bleeding problems and horrendous bruising! We've been that route and it was as usuccessful as home dialysis was! Why change what works? Why make Stacy's life more difficult? And why not listen the needs of the patient?

The fever is gone and unlike April, there isn't much of a sign of a bacterial infection. The catheter removal at this stage is "precautionary." Okay!

We didn't make it!

It turns out that the month of May was a fluke when there wasn't one trip to the hospital! We're making up for it this month by having two! Last night (Monday) Stacy was struck down first by chills followed by a fever of 103 and an invitation to the meet the doctor at the hospital! I absolutely couldn't deal with the questions that the ER nurses and doctors were going to run us through and to my surprise Stacy's doctor asked that she be admitted directly into a room. Imagine my surprise and delight! Even so we didn't roll in to the room until 9:30 and then there were the lab tests and a walk to xray for films of her chest and my cot finally arrived at midnight. Two nurses had a heck of a time getting an IV into her veins so that the antibiotic could be given. It was around 2 am when Stacy and I drifted off to sleep.

The jackhammers and delivery of tons of gravel started at 7:15 right outside of the window and I thought we were in the middle of war zone! The hospital remodel won't be done fast enough.

For Sale

Stacy's migraines, seizures, fainting spells, high blood pressure, vomiting and dialysis plus my chronic pain and brain fog are not making life on the home-front easy to handle.

Last Wednesday night I discovered her on the floor in the bathroom with blood on her hands and face. She had fallen off of the toilet and was tangled in her sweat pants and the bathroom towel she'd grabbed from the back of the door when she tumbled to the floor. It took me quite awhile to get her on her feet because she was non-responsive. The blood was from cuts on two fingers and I have no idea what caused them. I don't know whether she had a seizure or fainted because she's done both over the last two weeks. Every day brings a new crisis to get through and my hysteria levels are at an all time high! Of course the more tense I get the more pain I have which makes for long sleepless nights cursing at about my life.

Today's adventure for Stacy has involved vomiting, a migraine, and fatique. Mine has been so full of pain in every joint and muscle at a 10+ that I can't find a comfortable position to land in. To be able to sleep in order to take a break from my world is but a dream.

A Credo For Support

A Credo For Support

Do Not see my disability as the problem, recognize that my disability is an attribute.

Do Not see my disability as a deficit. It is you who see me as deviant and helpless.

Do not try to fix me because I am not broken.

Support me. I can make my contribution to the community in my own way.

Be a person who listens and does not take my struggle away from me by trying to make it all better.

Do Not use theories and strategies on me.

Be with me.

And when we struggle with each other, let that give rise to self-reflection.

Do Not try to control me. I have a right to my power as a person.

What you call non-compliance or manipulation may actually be the only way I can exert some control over my life.

Do Not teach me to be obedient, submissive, and polite.

Do Not see me as your client.

I am your fellow citizen. See me as your neighbor.

Remember, none of us can be self-sufficient.

Do Not try to modify my behavior.

Be still and listen.

What you define as inappropriate may be my attempt to communicate with you in the only way I can.

Do Not try to change me, you have no right.

Help me learn what I want to know.

Do Not hide your uncertainty behind "professional" distance.

I need to feel entitled to say NO if I am to protect myself.

Do Not be charitable towards me.

Be my ally against those who exploit me for their own gratification.

Do Not try to be my friend. I deserve more than that.Get to know me. We may become friends.

Do Not help me, even if it does make you feel good.

Ask if I need your help. Let me show you how you can best assist me.

Do Not admire me. A desire to live a full life does not warrant adoration.

Respect me, for respect presumes equity.

Do Not tell, correct, and lead. Listen, Support, and Follow.

Do Not work on me. Work with me.

Written by Norman Kunc and Emma Van der Klift

Life is Often Surreal

Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference. -- Virginia Satir

It's not often that I'm able to live my life from a surreal distance - something akin to watching it on a movie screen - but last weeks 3-night hospitalization proved to be just that. Surreal.

Dialysis seemed to go okay but practically immediately when Stacy arrived home she started vomiting
every 10 minutes. Made a phone call to the doctor. "What's her BP? Give her Promethazine and once her stomach settles down give her an additional BP med. and then about an hour later let me know how her
BP is." Yeah, right! Keeping a pill works really well when one is vomiting every 10 minutes . . .

Three hours later at 7:30 we were waiting to be seen in the ER. At 10pm lab tests were finally being run and I knew that it was time to send Mom home before she feel off of the stool. At 11pm it was decided that Stacy's BP, vomiting and migraine needed more attention so plans were made to stay overnight. At 1am we finally rolled into a room, the largest one I'd ever seen in the hospital, and I kept asking where my cot was. Talk about being a pest, but I'd spent most of the day in bed with vertigo and other dumb symptoms and was beyond being able to cope.

After a snack of crackers and peanut butter I fell into a deep sleep and was shocked to wake up at 5:30 in a cot in the hospital. Mom arrived at 9am and sent me home for some much needed sleep. Stacy was moved out of the fabulous suite like room into a broom-closet size room set up for dialysis. Wouldn't you think that dialysis patients required a large room?

Three nights in the hospital, new BP meds that finally lowered Stacy's BP and we were back home. It seemed more like a dream than another blip in the road.

I Love Paris!

Place des Vosges , 1997 - a favorite photo that was manipulated to create how I felt about scene I watched while sitting on a bench. Impressionistic.

I was very happy when the phone rang at 10pm last night and my youngest daughter said, "we're home." I don't like it when they're out of the country. It's more comforting to now that they are only seven hours away. They had a great time at the resort they stayed at in the Caribbean and Jack, three-and-half-years-old, had a good time as well. The ocean was so green and clear that they now realize just how polluted the Pacific Ocean has become. Sad!

The new Sleep Formula I started taking two nights ago is doing too good of a job. I not only sleep through the entire night but half of the morning as well! I came out of a inane dream at about 11:00, had coffee, read the Sunday paper, made brunch and the next thing I knew it was 2:30! This won't do! I think I'll try taking less of the formula. At this rate I'll never get anything done.

From the Sunday Herald - Happy Talk:
Most people are as happy as they make up their minds to be. Abraham Lincoln
Some cause happiness where they go; others whenever they go. Oscar Wilde
Whomever is happy will make others happy, too. Anne Frank
When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us. Helen Keller.
A sure way to lose happiness, I found, is to want it at the expense of everything else. Bette Davis.

Texture - play

I wish I could get out from under the brain fog and flu-like symptoms that have taken up residence! I feel awful! I'm positive that the stress of the last few months has caused this latest flare-up of the immune dysfunction junk that I've dealt with my entire life, but that doesn't alleviate the problem! There are so many things that I want to do but the focus for the past two weeks has been on how to once again convince my immune system to behave itself. I'm not fond of being on a quest searching through data for things that "might" provide some relief from joint and muscle pain, brain fog, migraines, vertigo and flu-like symptoms. I'd rather be on a creative quest that includes a working knowledge of design elements. That to me is much more productive, but if I don't attend to the physical stuff I will never be able to accomplish anything I've set out to do. I've been putting off taking care of my health issues hoping that by ignoring them they would go away. Experience should have taught me that ignoring the health issues will only make them worse when I finally face the fact that I'm nearly too ill to get out of bed.

So, once again I'm re-thinking the supplements I take by the handful! And for the second time in six months I'm going through a detox to rid my system of toxins and other creepy things that seem to be running through my system. Extracting unwanted visitors does marvelous things to an already unhappy system and unfortunately one of the things it does is to make the ability to concentrate fly out the window. Every thought I have disappears before I even put it down and very little of what I read makes any sense. It's taken me two hours to write these few paragraphs today! And they probably don't make much sense . . . If I had the energy I'd be hysterical, but I'm running on empty or what I refer to as "energy deficit."

Almost French

Paris - 1997 is my attempt at making an antique looking postcard. This was the view outside of our hotel room on my first trip to Paris. I loved waking up during the night to see the Eiffel Tower lit up it in all its splendor. The one thing I didn't like seeing in the daylight, however, were antennaes and satellite dishes on the rooftops! Back in '97 I had no idea that in a few years I would be able to manipulate photographs in such a way as to eliminate wires, cars, people and satellite dishes! If only I had known!

For the past few weeks I've been slowly savoring a book, "Almost French" by Sarah Turnbull. In between the mystery reading marathon I've been on (one book a day) I read a couple of chapters in Turnbull's book and go to sleep dreaming about Paris. Reading this book is almost as good as a decadent dessert. I've walked many of the streets she talks about and can visualize places that she describes and I know that I will be slightly depressed when I've reached the end of the book.

Life being what it has been for the past five years I doubt that I will do much traveling in the future. Sometimes that bothers me and other times I know that I will carry the memories of traveling to Europe with me for the rest of my life. Thanks heavens for books like "Almost French" that help me to relive the experiences and adventures that I had in '97 and 2000.

The Guardian

I think that I need to memorize the following quote:

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Every morning I wake up feeling as if I'm at war. The battle being fought is a health issue one and the symptoms are winning! Each day is started with energy-deficit and once the chronic pain is ascertained all I want to do is stay in bed forever! The added stress over Stacy's elevated blood pressure, seizures and renal failure are factored into the day the second she wakes up and then I know for certain that I don't want to face yet another day. And everyone wonders why I don't welcome morning phone calls!

It takes a lot of "self-talk" to turn the day around and there are days when the effort is more than I can handle such as in the case of the current migraine-from-hell-attack that is in its tenth day. At best my brain functions in a pretty dense fog but when a migraine hits a level of 8-10 the brain cells stop functioning and I find that I can't make sense of the world around me, nor do I want to even try.

Fortunately, I've discovered that when my brain has left the planet, and the pain is below an 8, I seem to be able to sit at the computer and manipulate photos. I have no idea how I've gotten to the end result, but at least the hours don't drag endlessly on. That is if vertigo hasn't taken hold making even the thought of a looking at computer screen enough to turn me green.

"The Guardian" is from a photograph I took a few months ago at the mission in San Juan Bautista. I have no idea who the statue is of, (should have taken notes) but he has the look of a guardian about him.

Maloney's before the fire.

Maloney's before the fire that destroyed the abandoned Moss Landing restaurant. The fire, assumed to be arson, be arson, happened yesterday afternoon. It's now too late to return to the site for another photography session. I have a fondness for decrepit buildings with their textures and patinas that make my heart sing.
I'm not a fan of structures formed from glass or steel. Give me a rusty relic full of character, which Maloney's had, and I can spend hours photographing it.

April Recap Continued

Tribute to Celeste - "To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer." Ghandi

Dialysis treatment on Monday, April 18 was fraught with anxiety. Stacy's BP was high and she vomited during treatment, which she never does. (She has been on dialysis since November of 2000. Three treatments a week consisting of 3 hours each. She was diagnosed with End-stage-renal-failure in Oct., 2000. She also has brain damage that happened during a high fever in 1968. Stacy is my "Forever Young" child.)
Tuesday morning she ate breakfast and went back to sleep. I had a hard time waking her and she refused lunch. An hour later when the doctor returned my phone call and we were discussing what to do about the blood pressure meds and vomiting she started to go into a seizure. Dr Chen said, "call 911 and I'll see you later at the hospital."
Happily Steve, EMT, arrived because the police officer who arrived first was of no help! Stacy was vomiting and I couldn't hold her head and get a bowl under her at the same time. (The next day I had quite a mess to clean up!) Either they were slower getting her into the ambulance or I was faster getting my things together because I was able to hitch a ride in the ambulance. I remember a fireman saying to me, "I hope that you're planning on going in the ambulance, because you don't look like you should drive." That was an understatement. I hadn't recuperated since the last crisis plus the daily worry of knowing how bad she was had taken its toll.
Stacy's BP was again off of the charts so I assumed we were back for another attempt at getting the BP done. But the blood tests came back with the news that she had a bacterial infection! If the infection didn't respond to antibiotic treatment her dialysis catheter would need to be removed and the options for her treatment are limited . . .
The next two days were a wait-and-see time and on Thursday during a time I'd gone home for a nap Mom phoned me at about 3:00 and said, "I'm ill, I hate to have you come back to the hospital so early, but I need to go home." Some how I knew this wasn't going to be a case of Mom just being tired and stressed out but something more. (Mom always sits with Stacy during the days and I get the night shift.) I threw more clothes into my overnight bag, just in case I wouldn't be going home again soon, and rushed to the hospital to find Mom in the bathroom vomiting. I went out to the nurses station and told them that I was taking Mom to the ER and that Stacy would be alone. A volunteer was walking by with a wheel-chair and said that it might be a good idea if I took mom to the ER in it and she'd stay with Stacy.

I don't think I've ever seen the ER so busy and later I heard that it was the night from hell! Somehow I managed to get Mom seen right away and because I wasn't feeling too well myself I signed myself in, but
didn't get seen for 3 hours after Mom who it turned out was very ill with a viral infection and not the same thing as Stacy had. Phew! I have to say that I chose a great ex-husband, Larry, because I phoned him at work and he arrived at 11pm to stay with Stacy while I went home at 1am to sleep. Mom finally got admitted at midnight, 3 hours after I was released and sent back out into the trenches. "I don't think that you have an infection, but you are suffering from exhaustion, but someone needs to take care of Stacy and oversee your Mom's care so we have to hope that you'll be okay." OKAY??!? Was the doctor nuts?! I was having a breakdown of epic proportions! (Mom ended up spending the night on the gurney in a cubicle in short-stay. There wasn't a bed or room available until late the next day.)

An image that keeps flashing into my thoughts is of the ER while I was lying on gurney with an I.V. in my arm knowing that Mom was in a room two doors away and Stacy was in room downstairs scared that I wasn't coming back! That only thing that kept me calm was knowing that Larry was on his way.

Larry was able to stay until Sunday at which time he had to return to work. An hour after he left I found out that Mom was being released and Stacy would be staying until at least Tuesday. I had no idea how to get mom home and settled in and I was not only frustrated but angry that the doctor didn't realize how weak mom still was! I was so rattled that I broke down in front of Stacy's doctor who advised me to call a brother or a sister. I have a brother, but . . . not available. I finally reached a neighbor of mom's at the retiremement community she lives in who said she'd come and get mom and have a wheel-chair ready with a strong man pushing it and they'd get her settled in.

One of the hardest things I've ever done was to put mom in that car and send her home alone knowing that she couldn't take care of herself, but I also knew that I couldn't leave Stacy and then there was the small detail that I was beyond exhausted and all of my chronic symptoms were attacking me. I've never felt so alone!

Later, I was sitting on the cot staring into space when a nurse came in and said that she was on duty until midnight and asked me if I had made plans for a dinner tray? I normally ate at home before I spent the night and hadn't thought about food. She ordered a tray for me and then said that she remembered us from 4 years ago when Stacy had first started dialysis. I vaguely remembered her. We've been in the hospital so many times over the years that it's hard remember who all of the nurses have been, but most of them sure remember my sweet Stacy. Little did I know that the same nurse, Celeste, would help us through the next night as well.

Monday arrived, 6 nights of being in the hospital and Stacy and I were counting on it being the day we might go home. An early morning visit from Dr. Chen had given us hope that after dialysis we could indeed leave! When Robert didn't show up at the expected time I should have known things weren't going to be easy. Being the only dialysis nurse on duty that day he ended up with 2 emergencies before he could get to Stacy. We finally got word that he'd be in setting up the machine at 9pm which turned out to be 9:30. Even if it was too late to go home it was a relief to finally have treatment started. That relief lasted about 15 minutes because if it could go wrong it did! The machine was as tired as the rest of were and refused to run properly. The blood test Robert took at the beginning of treatment was the wrong one. Treatment ended up taking nearly 4 hours and at 1am we were all ready for the nuthouse. The nurses shift had changed, but Celeste had stayed on to help us through everything. She made sure that the right blood test was done and helped Robert get the machine going even if she had no idea what to do. She kept Stacy and I going by just "being there" and once we got word that Stacy needed yet another round of antibiotic she went to the pharmacy and picked up it rather than waiting for it to be delivered. Stacy's I.V. was blown due to the BP cuff taking her BP every 15 minutes during treatment so it was decided the only way to give her the med was through her dialysis catheter which meant that Robert, who had now been on duty since 7am the day before, needed to stay until 2:30am. Stacy burst into tears and I think Robert wanted to join her. Lying on the cot I turned my face toward the wall. The last thing I remember is Celeste turning out the lights in the room and telling us that she'd put the word out not to disturb us for the next few hours and that she'd see us the next night. The next morning arrived five hours later when Stacy's temp. and BP was taken, both of which were down and we could go home!

The memory of Celeste tucking us in for the night not only conjures up warm and fuzzy feelings, but a realization that even if I've never felt so alone there is always an angel to help make things a little easier.

It would be two weeks before mom was well enough to take Stacy to the clinic for treatment. During that time I needed a chauffeur/friend to drive the two of us to the clinic because my driving skills weren't up to par - exhaustion and depression have a deep hold on me and haven't let go. Stacy's last round of antibiotic is supposed to be on the 20th, one month after the first round.

Recap of March and April

Thankfully it's May! As if the 5 nights we spent in the hospital in March weren't awful enough we had to top that crises with another one in April. Seven long nights and days. I can't seem to move forward until I get rid of some of the experiences we went through. It's like I'm frozen in that time warp. The 12 nights are blended together in my mind without the separation of 3 weeks between the first hospitalization and the last one. Both times I called 911 and both times the same marvelous paramedic arrived. Steve has been here twice before so at least he knows Stacy's history and the last time he was here said, "I''m not liking the blue color she has, I've never seen that before." It's good to know that I wasn't imagining things.
March 24th, my 38th anniversary - that is if I were still married, started out being a day full of tension. Stacy had a headache and was vomiting. Migraine, PMS, dialysis reaction, what?? Nope, a Grand Mall seizure finally alerted us to what was wrong. I always hate to dial 911 because it seems like overkill when a police officer, two firemen and the ambulance arrives. All I ever want is a paramedic and a quick drive to the hospital that an ambulance provides The other thing I hate doing is answering the police officer's inquiry about what meds Stacy takes. There are so many that I just hand a basket full of them to the officer. The next question is always, "Could she have taken too many?" So I stand in the middle of the room, and I'm always in my robe, no matter what time of day it is and tell the story for what will be the first time out of about 10 or so times I'll repeat it during the day.
When Steve took her blood pressure in March it was off the charts and they didn't wait for me to gather some things together and join them in the ambulance!
I don't remember the drive to the hospital but Mom (My second call after 911 is to my mother and she always is waiting at the hospital when we arrive!) told me that I ran across the terrace from the parking garage into the ER and started through the doors in search of Stacy without stopping at the front desk. She was already in a cubicle, vomiting, crying and about ready to have another Grand Mall. I yelled that she was going into another seizure and the savvy nurse ran for a shot of valium. The doctor said, "Oh I don't think so, she looks like she's exhausted from the vomiting." I nearly said, "are you nuts, I know the signs," when the nurse looked at me for confirmation and I nodded a yes and she jammed the needle into the I.V. which promptly stopped the seizure. "I guess maybe she was going," the doctor said. The nurse later told me that she always takes her cues from parents or caregivers.
The BP was 236/115 and stayed there for hours. Of course the first thought everyone had was that Stacy had had a stroke because she was so out of it, but I know how she is after a seizure and continued to believe that I was seeing post-seizure and not something new. Many tests later my belief was right on target.
I had packed an overnight bag and a cot was waiting for me in Stacy's room in the critical care unit where we stayed for 5 nights. She had dialysis treatments in her room by her favorite dialysis R.N. , Robert, who is employed by the dialysis clinic. She was hooked up to so many monitors that it always seemed that someone was in the room checking on them. So much for rest.
On the 29th she was released, against my better judgement, and we went home with 3 new blood pressure meds. For the next 3 weeks her BP refused to budge and remained alarmingly high. I waited for the next
crises to hit and it did!

Big Sur

Big Sur never seems to change, which is a good thing when one needs something familar and comforting!
Today was exceptionally beautiful, so much so that the tourist congested highway south of Carmel seemed more like summer than
April 1.

Sometimes Heaven is a slice of decadent chocolate cake, especially when savored outdoors next to a bubbling fountain.

Pig Crossing. A sign to warn drivers about the wild boars that insist on crossing the highway.
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Nature Directing Itself!

When Nature Directs Itself!
I've tried numerous times to photograph this tree but the lighting was never as perfect as it was today!
Carmel Bay with the lagoon in the background the day before the sandbar was opened to allow the river to flow into the bay.

Surprises Sometimes Are A Good Thing!

Normally I 'm not fond of surprises but when the phone rang at 9am on Monday and the voice of my ex-husband, Larry, said, "This is your 30 minute warning before I arrive at your door," I decided to treat it as a good thing rather than something akin to dread.
It did turn out to be not only a good thing but a mini-vacation as well. He sat with Stacy at the dialysis clinic during her 3 hour treatment giving them time to visit. I was able to run some errands and even tracked down Nevr-Dull a new "must have " product to try.
Ater we checked him into a hotel we went out to dinner at Stacy's favorite place, El Torrito's, and had the best table in the restuarant, a corner window one with a view of the Monterey Bay.

The next morning he arrived at our house earlier than we usually climb out of bed but with the promise of breakfast at Katy's Place Stacy and I hurriedly dressed. The morning was exceptional, weather-wise, and after a fattening breakfast we drove down to the ocean and saw first-hand what I'd been hearing on the news. The lagoon at Carmel State Beach where the river ends was overflowing and digging away the bank right near the road. A few treasured Monterey Cypress trees were threatened by the erosion and I couldn't help but wonder when the six agencies would get together and decide to open the sandbar between the river and ocean. It was an endangered steel-head trout vs. road and tree situation.
I did capture the photograh, above, where a tree stump shot directly into the sun appears to be a man directing an orchestra! I had seen the decayed tree many times over the years but the lighting had never been right. In this case I thought he looked like he was directing the perilous scene in front of him.

The morning turned out to be perfect for photographing and Larry stopped the car whenever I said, "Oh, I've got to get that!" U-turns were often made when I spotted a sign I had to add to my growing sign collection. Who could pass up one that showed "Pigs Crossing?" I had read in the newspaper that two signs were now located on Hwy. 1 in a area where wild boar cross the highway. I don't think that the signs have prevented the occasional collision of boars with vehicles, but the signs are certainly an attraction.

It was a good visit for the three of us and I'm happy that all of the garbage of our youth is behind us and we can enjoy each other's company.

The Money Tree.
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Mysteries of . . .

Mysteries of computers and blogs! Arrgghhh!
It seems that the blog has a mind of its own because I can't go in and add text under photos! Hopefully this is a temporary thing.

The photograph of my Dad is manipulated a bit and the Money Tree ATC, above, is one I made for a swap using rubber stamps and oil pastels and text words from a label maker.

March 4, 1918 - March 22, 2000
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Bouquet of Shamrocks.

Bouquet of Shamrocks for Good Luck!
I'm in absolute shock! I turned my back for a few minutes and the month is over! Tomorrow is the first day of the month that I fear, the month that marks losses and stressful times . Five years ago my father died and since that time I've had gallbladder surgery where it was discovered that the darn thing was so diseased it was a miracle I was alive; Stacy had problems with seizures and her dialysis treatments and we made numerous trips to the ER; Mom started having anxiety attacks that cause blinding headaches; and last year my daughter, Corey, lost a baby boy in her eighth month!

Shamrocks are supposed to bring good luck! My yard is full of the kind (above) that are prevalent on the Central Coast. I'm prone to pulling the pesky things out from the garden but this year I'm allowing them spread their luck throughout the yard. May they grow hearty!

Figurative Series #2

Figurative Series - Digital Play #2

The month sure isn't going very well. I've been ill since late Monday night, probably a flare-up of the immune dysfunction stuff that pays me a daily visit, but at this major level it stiffles creativity and that I have a difficult time dealing with.

I was able to have another outing with my brother and sister-in-law on Monday before they left for home in Minnesota. Even the rain couldn't dampen my happiness about being out of the house with people I love and wish I could see more of. I had hoped to photograph more while they were here, but will have to take myself out a photography date.

The digital, above, was created from a photo of the pink blooms on the Plum tree in my front yard and silhouettes appropriated from a magazine photo of Elton John, in the middle, with two friends.

All Twisted Up!

All twisted up!
That's me, all twisted up! The day started out like any other day might, just okay. But once I heard Mom's voice on the phone my stomach twisted up into knots! Thanks heavens for Cell phones and a brother on the other end who I could send over to collect Mom and take to the ER.

I was in the middle of finally have a guy from The Dish install a new cable (to hopefully take care of a year-long problem!!) and I didn't want to him to stop. Once he did a check of the satellite dish I was out the door before he even drove off. Nothing like an emergency to get my adrenline going. I found Mom already in a cubicle trying to answer questions the doctor was asking her and my brother saying, "I think my sister might know that."

Three hours later my first guess was correct, Mom was having a major reaction to a medication and not a heart attack. I got her home and settled in and did a few errands. So much for having a nice quiet visit with brother and sister-in-law!

The Tuck Box

The Tuck Box restaurant in Carmel is about as quaint as you can get! It's rare that a car isn't parked in front of it blocking it from view and I would have missed the shot if I hadn't had my trusty camera in my hand! It wasn't long before a car dove into the spot.

You'd think that Carmel is hundreds of miles away rather than right over the hill from where I live, because it's been a couple of years since I wandered about the village! It took a week-long visit from my brother and his wife to get me out the house. Once we found a parking place on a side street we had a blast browsing through shops where they bought a lot of collectibles to add to their collections. A horse statue was added to my collection (www.trailofpaintedponies.com to see Earth, Wind and Fire. Click on Merchandise > native ponies.) I have no idea why I've always been so drawn to horses, but perhaps it's the freedom in which they run and part of me is always trying to escape/run from my life.

I had one request while we were in Carmel and it was granted. I had wanted to see Joan Miro's month-long exhibit in a gallery where I nearly had to leave a deposit on a lithograph just to be able to leave! My mistake was in telling the salesperson that I was in the gallery to see the exhibit and when I passed on purchasing the $5,000-35,000 art pieces she decided I had to have the $900 one. It nearly ruined my time in the gallery having to deal with her hunger to sell me something! My brother wandered off and for a few minutes and she followed, probably thinking that she was chasing the person with the money, wrong, he had no intentions of purchasing anything, but it gave me the opportunity to study Miro's work. I'm always amazed at how essential it is to see work up close and viewing his work left me with a sense of wanting to add some playfulness to my work. Thoughts about that has kept me awake for the last two nights, well that and a killer migraine! Good thing I had something fun to think about and not just the pain.

"The spectacle of the sky overwhelms me. I'm overwhelmed when I see, in an immense sky, the crescent of the moon, or the sun. There, in my pictures, tiny forms in huge empty spaces. Empty spaces, empty horizons, empty plains, everything which is bare has always impressed me."
Joan Miro, 1958 Twentieth-Century Artists on Art

Loss.

Following a phone call from my daughter about yet another loss I grabbed the camera and between gusts of wind captured a sentimental shot. The delicate pink buds bursting into plum colored leaves made me weep. Even on a grey day full of sadness the world carries on and there is something beautiful to be found.

On another note: No wonder I felt wary 4 days ago, the road continues to be rocky and my center is tilting.

San Juan Bautista

Proof that there is some sun without the nasty pine pollen somewhere in the world!

It's very gloomy, grey and cold so you'd think that the pine pollen would take a break and not shower us with the green stuff! Lunch, in San Juan Bautista, was suggested so off we went for a feast of bratwurst, sauerkraut and fried pototoes, not the usual fare when visiting a town known for its Mexican food. We had discovered the corner restuarant on our last visit when suddenly enchiladas didn't sound as good as they had. The restaurant is celebrating its 25th anniversary next month and is decorated in a combination of German and Mexican styles that somehow don't seem out of place. We can't figure it out but the more I studied it this time the more I realized that it's the color palette that allows two such diverse styles to blend. It doesn't matter whether a German beer stein sits next to a Mexican pinata or not as long as the colors are bland and faded.

After lunch when we stepped out the front door we discovered that the main street, that had been vacant of traffic and pedestrians, had become congested. The entire 3 blocks around the restaurant had been blocked off and people were gathering on the curb and a few older folks setting up folding chairs. For what? It seems that the local high school was having some sort of rally for their basketball team. You never know what you'll see in a very small town that might be spirit lifting especially when the news has been full of gang violence in nearby cities. San Juan Bautista "feels" like it's in a 50's time warp, even though I'm sure it has problems like any other town in 2005 does.

Unencumbered!

Rubber stamped words and watercolor on text from a physics book. This was a quick unplanned page for an Expedition Journal that hopefully will lighten the tone of the book. The work that I've done so far seems heavy and serious and could be a difficult-act-to-follow for the next artist working in the EJ. Much of my work is thought out and slowly executed when what I really want is to be able to not think so much! But I doubt I can change my way of working because it's most likely a part of who I am.

In my dreams I'm svelte and free from the heaviness of body and life. The word that comes to mind is unencumbered.

Door to February!

Mixed media - gesso, water-soluble pastels, and embellishments. The key strips, scanned crooked, seem to imply a sense of being unbalanced and guarded about the second month of the year.

A new month, new possibilities but my spirits are already dashed by the pine pollen that is dusting us with a green film, creating more havoc on our health issues. Allergy migraines, congestion and itchy eyes aren't what I had in mind for my days!

I had hoped to experiment with more techniques last month but life went off in a direction not to my liking. If only I could be content with the projects that are completed . . .

Figurative Series #1

Figurative Series - Silhouettes #1. Watercolors, pastels and metallic wax. I received 3 pots of Twinkling H2O's from a friend and started playing with two of the colors, sunflower and douglas fir.

Shadows and silhouettes have always fascinated me. I would love to do a series based on shapes of the human form rather than exact depictions. I'd like to think that is the beginning of that series!

After two weeks of dry weather it's beginning to look like we're in for a few wet days, always a good time to experiment and I hope to do just that. Over the weekend, though, I was hoping to get out into the garden but I was warding off the virus that Stacy has, so the yard is looking even more neglected. But, sometimes it's a good thing to be "forced" to stay indoors because I was able to create 5 new gesso/pastel backgrounds for Expedition Journal pages. There is always a plus when plans are changed, now if I can just remember that!

Let The Cruising Begin!

This manipulated photo, shot in Salinas on a busy street, reminds me of another era when cruising was a Friday night activity! Cruising - a word I contemplated Wednesday night while sitting in the ER for another fun-packed evening. Stacy had a 3 hour nosebleed and what is a mother to do but head for the ER and hand the problem over to someone else.
Stacy informed the doctor that she wasn't having a very good year. The very wise doctor said, "And I bet you had hoped that 2005 was going to be an improvement over last year. The good news is that anything that happened last year is now in the past. So, the thing to remember about today is that tomorrow this visit to the ER will also be in the past."
Touche!

Cruising might be prohibited on the streets of Salinas but I'd like to try "moving through life smoothly or effortlessly," or even "travel without destination or purpose." Let the cruising begin!!!

King of Prussia

A GTC - Glue-Trading-Card- created from 5 magazine clippings.

Prussion Virtues: perfect organization, sacrifice, the rule of law. At the end of the 1st century the Prussion settlements were divided into tribal domains, separated from one another by uninhabitated areas of forest, swamps and marsh. In each tribe the leader was responsible for the supervision of everyday matters, while the chief was in charge of the road and watertower buildings. Prussia was abolished by the Nazis in 1934 - since then the term's relevence has been limited to historical, geographical or cultural usuages.

This fella looks "kingly" enough to take back Prussia!

And then there is Prussion Blue - any of numerous blue iron pigments formerly regarded as ferric ferrocyanide.

ID Recorded

ID Recorded is a mixed media piece representing the state of our current world conditions. The phrases and stamps were on envelopes I received from France and Australia.

Suddenly There IS A Palm Tree!

Headlines: The Central Coast is Blasted With Wind and Rain.

What a shock to discover that there is a Palm tree in our neighborhood primarily known for its pine and oak trees! The majestic oak had covered up the fact that a palm tree has infiltrated the street. Fortunately, the oak tree was only a few feet from the house, so when the mighty wind uprooted it the tree merely leaned against the roof as if to take a nap until the storm passed. Sadly, the oak was beyond saving and now there is only a hole where it once proudly stood. I photographed this scene right after the branches had been cut from the tree and before the trunk was removed. No damage to the roof! But my view is ruined by the out-of-place palm in desperate need of dead frond prunning.

The fence in my front yard decided to play a game of dominoes beginning with the gate as board-by-board fell finally stopping when a solid post was reached. Termites, the main culprit first weakened the wood and then saturated by the storms the fence only needed a little push from the wind. It's times like this that I'm only to happy to point out the problem to my landlady!

The Door Opens on 2005!

Page from my art journal, created with a little more abandon than my usual quiet sepia palette.

The Queen of Hearts playing card is a door, hinged to the page with duct tape. Inside the door is a quote by Edith Lovejoy Pierce: "We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on these ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day. "

The beauty of a decaying Oak tree

I feel that I have a lot in common with this close-up photo of a decaying oak tree! Perhaps we're becoming more interesting with age.

On a recent walk through an oak grove in Carmel Valley I happened upon the kind of texture that excites me and is impossible to duplicate outside of nature. As is the case of this photo, sometimes film can capture what the eye doesn't see.

The Door Closes on 2004

Art Journal page - The Door Closes on 2004.

The stark greys and harsh black crackle finish on the altered playing card door symbolizes the toll 2004 took on me. Hidden behind the door is a list of the losses and health issues that confronted my family last year.

Oh to be young again!

One of my favorite photos of my grandson! Jack turns 3 tomorrow.

Artificial urgency has struck! I can't seem to get anything accomplished and it seems that everything is requiring my attention. I had hoped by now to have my storage room organized, with newly purchased iris storage containers, but the task has turned out to be a humpty-dumpty one and refuses to be put back together again.

Yippee! It's a New Year!

This is a spread I did for an AB that I included in a kit for a Christmas gift. Lately, I seem to be working with grids. On the right side of the page torn strips of duct tape were first placed over the text and then dry brushed with white gesso. To further accent the grid black gesso was painted around the tape. Rubber stamps and additional color was added. The left page is simply a wash of fluid acrylic paints in blue shades, block rubber stamps and a flower image from a magazine.
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I am so relieved to finally put an end to a tumultuous year and say hello to a new year, one full of possibilities! The health issues and losses of 2004 will hopefully become distant memories as 2005 progresses.

After nearly a three week break from creating anything I find that I'm a bit rusty and stale. Paint brushes and mediums feel foreign in my hands and I'm having a difficult time working on a spread in my journal. "The Door Closes on 2004," and "The Door Opens On 2005." The only color palette that seems to fit 2004 is one of greys. A sunrise palette seems fitting for the 2005 page. Now if I just just pull it off!

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An excellent first-day-of-the-year Quote from Dear Abby:
Just for today: I will live this day only. I will not brood about yesterday or obsess about tomorrow. I will not set far-reaching goals or try to overcome all of my problems at once. I know that I can do something for 24 hours that would overwhelm me if I had to keep it up for a lifetime.