Counting down

Oh my goodnes gracious sakes alive ....

It is 3:22 pm ... and at midnight (assuming I'm still up) I can start work on Willow's Bridge.

Rephrase that ... I can start WRITING Willow's Bridge.

I've already put some work into it before hand. Character development ...and getting idea's down on paper.

There is so much I'd forgotten about writing fiction! You know, I'd even forgotten the terms protagonist and antagonist! Yikes!

It is amazing how the characters seem to come alive in you. I've heard about that before from other writers and always thought it was kind of strange. But, it happens. I guess, it's a good thing that it's a good thing that it's happening.

I'm so ready to go, midnight seems like a long way away ... I guess it's a good thing our church has an All Saints Party tonight!

I get to judge little people in costumes!!!

Pamper me

It seems, that somehow, I've been won ..given ..something a "Pamper Me" day from Mary Kay Cosmetics

I am so excited about treating you to a much deserved pampering!



What we will be doing is learning about skin care, doing a little glamour, and talking about your specific skin care needs, plus we’ll have some tasty muffins, coffee, and juice.

YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANNOUNCING!!!

NaNoWriMo Madness

Ok ... I've started a new blog with the intention of being a group blog like Bloggers Anonymous. It's for those who are participating in NaNoWriMo (or those who would like to cheer us on)! If you would like to participate ... please send me your email address (pearlsofaneagle@aol.com) and I will get you hooked up!!

I joined the NaNoWriMe site, and I love the site, but it is PAINFULLY slow!!! I've already met a couple of wonderful people there ... but would also like to keep the support of my already supporters! Tk ... Dr. Dino ..Ms Moofie etc.

I've posted a couple of posts ... already because my fingers are itchy!!

Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee join me!

A week to go

A week to go, and my story will start to be written down. I thought I would tell my background of the reason I have the story to tell.

When I was young, nine to be exact. I was given a Blue Willow China Miniature Tea Set

Not only similar to this one, but EXACTLY like this one. My hands can still feel the smooth shape of the creamer pitcher as I'd run my fingers around it's lips.

I was given it by my step mother for my 9th birthday. It wasn't just any Blue Willow set. It had been hers ... and she didn't have a daughter of her own to give it to. So, it was her honor to give it to me. She could have picked my older sister, but she chose me. It had been given to her for her 9th birthday, and to her mom for her 9th birthday ... it was a family tradition and I was being pulled into the family, not by blood, but by honor.

She had me read the legend of the blue willow ... 2 young lovers ... a cruel mean father who vowed to keep them apart. Her husband was from an enemy country, and he was tyrannical at best ... The beauty of the land they lived in was lost on her father. All he cared about was power ...and being right. She loved this young man... and she married him against her father's will.
Because she did, he vowed to kill them both. They hid for a while in the shed behind the willow tree. When he found them, they fled across the bridge

All blue willow china has the shed, the willow tree, and the bridge with the three figures running across the bridge.

When the 2 lovers get across the bridge, They are turned into doves or love birds (depending on who tells the legend) forever, to be kept together ...safe, and out of the reach of the tyranical father ... flying above the problems of the world, in the beauty of the garden she loved so much ...



So, as a 9 year old girl, I fell in love with the story for obvious reasons. The dreamer in me, found the story irresistable.

However, what was also in me, was a tomboy that was not to be reckoned with.

Fragile, china, and tomboys ...just really ...aren't a good idea. The ideal situation would have been to give it to me, and put it away till I was old enough, responsible enough to understand the words "antique"; "legacy" & "heritage".

Instead, a gift was a gift ...and they gave it to me ...this child who played as hard as she loved ... and well ... the china did not survive. It quickly became my most beloved possession ... but ...it also didn't survive from my birthday a few days before Thanksgiving, until Christmas.

I found far more uses for the china than sitting mildly with my dolls (who's uses had far more uses than sitting mildly with the tea set) having tea parties. China, simply won't survive such play.

Not a single piece, save the lid to the tea pot survived ..and I lost that before my 10th birthday.

To say, my regrets over this are huge, is putting it mildly. I love the story of the blue willow, I love the pattern. I can get lost in the pattern, the story ... and the idea of running across the bridge to safety ... has become the theme of my Nano novel. So ... Willow's Bridge will be the name of the novel ... a story to tell that's deep in me.

Saftey is something I've been looking for since I was a child ... and it's something I'm longing to find ... I've found bits of it, maybe in the shed ... but I'm looking for permanent safety ... like the birds in the beauty of the garden ... so ... I will run across Willow's Bridge ... and write the story that's in me to tell ...

and we'll see what happens in the month of November ... 34 years after I broke the Blue willow China set ...

10 - 20 - 30

I have been tagged. I knew it was a matter of time. Jeff tagged Deneice, and I didn't tell her, because I knew she'd tag me. However, I did start thinking of what I was going to say when I saw that Jeff tagged her. BUT ....there were a couple of bloggers whom I consider myself lucky to have not been tagged by this a few weeks ago ...so ... I got a few weeks to actually contemplate this before it got to me.

The tag is what I was doing 10 - 20 and 30 years ago.

So ...

1997
My son had just turned 8 years old, and my other son was 5, almost 6. We'd just found our new church, Southpark Community Church and I knew it was home. My husband, had refused to go to church since Samuel was a year old. I'd made the decision to go to Southpark, regardless. When he got ready to come to church, he'd have to go where I was at home. I could no longer attend and be homeless ready to go to a church when he was ready to attend. I had to put down roots.

Little did I know the spiritual battle that would take place in my home with that declaration ... or the victory that it would lead to. As well, as my husband's attendance at church and his taking the spiritual lead in our home.

Benjamin, 5, was still diagnosed as autistic, and on a good day, if you had a Jar Jar Binx translation book, you might be able to carry on a conversation with him. The microwave was a refridgerator and the washing machine was a car and the car was a fence and well ... you just had to get used to what he called things. He had reasonings why he labeled things the way he did, and if you talked to him long enough, you could figure it out.
One day, he came in and asked for something to "ocean me over"
I was baffled.
"I need something to OCEAN ME OVER!"
"Benjamin, I don't understand"
"GIVE ME SOMETHING TO OCEAN ME OVER!"
"Show me what you mean"
He marched into the kitchen, grabbed a box of crackers and said emphatically "OCEAN ME OVER!
(TIDE me over ...oooooooooooh ocean ...tide ... I GET IT! )
The conversation took a bit longer with quite a bit more frustration on his part ..for one thing, he had to get to pronounce ocean to where I could understand it.

Benjamin could not eat very many foods without throwing up. Smells were a constant problem. His stomach was so sensitive it was a constant worry. He was allergic to dairy and we had to be very careful of the foods that passed his mouth or he'd break out in a terrible rash.

Samuel, being almost 8, already having read Jurrasic Park, and was being homeschooled and was leaps and bounds ahead of where any child had a right to be at 8. He was a tremendous help with Benjamin and did nothing to help dissuade Benjamin of concepts like ... ocean/tide ... and Benjamin followed Samuel everywhere.

We were taking Benjamin to occupational therapy 2 times a week and speech therapy once a week, physical therapy every other week. We had not yet, at that time, discovered Therapy Works ... where the sensory integration therapy would enter our lives. That ...changed Benjamin's life ..and diagnosis. It changed our lives ... and the path our family took.

I type this out, and remember how hard it was ... he ran away ...into the street, his impulse control was so minimal. His learning so far behind.

Both boys were still immunodeficient and infections were frequent.

The myasthenia gravis was very out of control ... I could not walk up a flight of stairs. My last myasthenic crisis had just taken place. Labor Day weekend 1997. I wore leg braces (AFO's) because my hyper extention of my knee and foot drop combined with the MG made it very difficult to walk and the pain level increased.

I remember it being difficult ... I remember being desperate for respite care and not finding it. Being on a state wide 'waiting list' (which, we managed to get to the top of the list when Benjamin was 12 years old ... the child had to be younger than 11 years 11 months old to get services from it)

But when I think back on those times, I remember his smile, his laughter, and his waddle that made me laugh. I only remember how HARD it was when I write stuff like this. I only think of how sick I was when my doctor's start to talk about changing my medications around and the possiblity of going back to that condition ...


The reality is ... the day to day was hard ... but the era in my life, wasn't that bad.

1987

I was engaged to be married. Wow ...20 years ago. I was working at a fast food hot dog stand, managing it. Yikes.
I'd been married and divorced ... and was getting ready to get married again.
My life in front of me ... I was healthy, and strong ... and I had no idea what was in front of me.

1977
I was in the 7th grade ... living at my fathers. The only year I would live with my Dad. He left my mom the day he found out that she was pregnant with me. I went to live with him after a trauma when I was in the 6th grade that I never told my mom or step father about.

I thought, living with him would get me into a 'safe' place, but it put me square into the place of rejection and judgement. Dad hadn't wanted me from the start. The fact that I was less than acceptable was made abundantly clear throughout the year. My step mother, did a lot to try to make up for that. But, she also did a lot to try to get me to live up to my father's expectations. Which, just fed into the 'you're not good enough' mentality.

I'd grown up with my parents (my real dad and my real mom) both being special education teachers. My sister, had this knack for telling me that I belonged in my mom's class. She'd talked the kids at school into teasing me along those lines.

I believed them.

In moving to my Dad's, I had a new set of friends who had no clue about the teasing, the bullying or even had a clue who my sister was.

I was on new ground. Clean slate. New teacher's who had never had my nice, quiet, willing to please anyone that crossed her path ... sister ... and well ... suddenly ... I wasn't the clumsy, dumb, irritating Peggi anymore.

I was recommended by my math teacher to be tested for the gifted program ...and shock of all shocks to me ... got in. In California in 1977 it was a state wide program called (oh my goodness ... BRACE YOURSELVES ...this is terrible labeling!)

Mentally Gifted Minors ... or MGM

The fact that I could step foot from what I considered myself to be ready for the MR program into the MGM class was beyond me. But ... they thought I could. I did. What was even more shocking ... I found I fit in ..quite nicely. Everyone in there talked like I did. Acted like I did ... played like I did and read the same books I did and managed to get into the same kind of trouble I did!! WOW ... a whole classroom full of alien Peggi's!! *blink*

The highlight of the year was going to see the King Tut Exhibit in LA.

The Lowlight of the year ... having to watch Tale Tale Heart in *BOTH* MGM and Language Arts in the same week ...because it managed to get caught up in 2 different programs! I still haven't gotten over that one! I bought the DVD for my son last summer, but told him he's not allowed to watch it with me around!!!
*shudder* (bought him the original, the one I was forced to watch)

The beginnings of my eating disorder can be seen in this year, although, it didn't really start until after my step father died in 1979. But, living this year with my dad ... telling me I was fat ...and unacceptable ..and yes, he used those words ... did much to lay the ground work for the eating disorder. Being told that I was 'unforgiveable' for wishing I could have more than a half of a peanut butter and honey sandwich and half an apple and 1 fig newton for lunch ... while my brother had a whole bologna sandwhich, chips, apple and 3 cookies ... kind of got me on track for thinking about 'right foods' & 'wrong foods' and portion sizes.

The odd thing was ... my brother hated bologna ..and I HATED peanut butter ... why they did this, we still have no idea.

When I moved back in with my mom at the end of the school year, the doctor told my mom I was 10 lbs underweight ... a forced diet at 13 will do that to a girl.

I can still tell you what we had to eat most nights of the week that year ..and for breakfast it was one soft boiled egg, for me, a slice of toast and a glass of orange juice. My juice, was measured.

The year, was ... to put it mildly, paradoxical ... great successes both academically and socially at school. Home life ... was less than to be desired.

Funny ... Paradoxical seems to be a good word to describe my life in general.

So, on to the tagging ...
I'm going to tag DP (you know who you are) Random Grace, Three's a Crowd (a friend of mine from Church) Chris at Normal Chaos and Ms Raine!

Whoops! Now I've done it!

Dear PearlsAndDreams,Well, you did it. You've gone and pledged your November to the pursuit of the month-long novel. Whether this is your first or ninth NaNoWriMo, we know you're going to have a great time, and we're thrilled to have you writing with us.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The question is ...can I write fiction????? oh brother!

I have a story at heart ... a story that is aching to be told. It comes out of a something that happened for real in my life ...

When I saw Collecting Cats desire to do hers on a Korean Wedding Vase ... She pushed me over the edge of cooperating this year ... I knew that I too must attempt this feat of writing this novel. I've had this story in my heart for a while now. It's not about a Korean china ...but rather Chinese China ... Blue Willow Legendary China
and an american girl of dreams ...



Even the Chinese copied it in their hand-painted decoration. Perhaps Minton's design was influenced by the legends that still surround Blue Willow today. One thing is certain. For two hundred years, children from all over the world have been coaxed into eating their vegetables, by mothers promising to tell them a story-that of a pair of hopeless young lovers turned into birds so they might remain happy together throughout eternity.

"So she tells me a legend centuries old

Of a Mandarin rich in lands and gold,

Of Koong-Shee fair and Chang the good,

Who loved each other as lovers should.

How they hid in the gardener's hut awhile,

Then fled away to the beautiful isle.

Though a cruel father pursued them there,

And would have killed the hopeless pair,

But kindly power, by pity stirred,

Changed each into a beautiful bird.

.....

Here is the orange tree where they talked,

Here they are running away,

And over all at the top you see,

The birds making love alway(s)."

Willow Ware is available in a wide range of patterns, makers-most identifiable by mark, styles, and periods-running from 1780 to wares produced today. Later pieces should only be purchased in excellent condition. Old Blue Willow is a prudent investment today as it is scoffed at by many dealers unaware of its important place in history

I looked for just the right font for this, I could not find one. Blogger, gives is very few choices. these days. So, I guess, I can plug in some webdings and color to give my post some flavor ... if I so choose. I wish I could warn you about what is about to come out of my fingers. But I must warn you: It is 3:30 on Friday morning ... and on Sunday Morning, my little baby boy, the one who so charmly held his hands on his hips at one year and said "DON'T YOU DO THAT! " to a nurse who was going to give him a breathing treatment .... and the same sweet sweet boy, who stood up, and stook out his hand to say "Nice to meet you" to the ER doctor who had treated him for being very very ill and saved us yet another hospital visit. We'd spend the whole day in that ER, going through IVbags, and IV antibiotics .... trying to keep a just barely 2 year old to understand "yes, they are acting like the hospital, not "checkers" like the ER ...but they want to keep you out of the Hosiptal if they can." After 13 hours .... The doctor came back ...blood levels had stableized ... a nurse would come and draw blood in the middle of the night, and to listen to his breathing, run one bag of fluids. If all was stable, he'd be ok, and would not need hospitallization. They were fighting to keep this kid with the bad ear and the bronchitis off the floor, even though he EAAAAAZily met criteria ... but they had pneumonia, RSV, and an unknown skin virus that seems to be spreading from room to room. (years later, they now call that an \MSRA investion) We won, we and patient doctor's ... won.
So, we're getting ready to leave, Samuel, is just over 2, his mom is pregnant and about to pop at any given sneeze in the wrong way (wasn't going to be that easy ...he was late too ...and had to be incudeced as well ...stubborn boys!) And he just stood up straight and tall, miliatry style, poked out his hand and said "it was nice you could meet me today"

WE ROLLED. Poor kid had no idea what he'd really said ...but we all knew what he'd meant. He made, the doctor's day! Holiday weekned too, I'm sure. WE always thought he didn't understand his slip. Now? We really have to question it.

My son. Samuel Dwayne Eagler, Born October 14, 1989 to a set of parents who were too medically fragile to have kids .. had the genetic stack of cards ...stacked against him. Joint problems, cholesterol, autoimmunnity comes from both mom's side (paternally) and Dad's side: He has a mother with Myasthenia Gravis and Lupus and fibromyalgia,an aunt with Rheumatoid Arthritis and Fibromiyalgia, and an uncle with Multiple Sclerosis. His Grandfather has Glocucoma and Psoriasis. His Grandmother has Celeiac Diesease. There may be more that we're missing that we may not even be aware about.

But. he just goes on about life ... life, is what you make of it. Life hasn't rolled him the best ball ... but he's learned how to pick up that ball ... and either make you think it's a funny clowns face ... and made you laugh with it ... or, he's developed a really fun and engaging game, and gotten you to go along with his schemes ... Or, he's turned it into an object lesson he can teach about.

His caring for thers, seems to know no boundries ... even when proven that someone might be harming him, not have their best intersests at heart ... they always ... always have the last chance. We've tried to tell him that there has to come day when that rope must be cut ...and his response is "Jesus, would never cut that rope," ouch!

I think, my biggest admiration for him comes in handling his own personal 'challenges'. Which, he does not see ... in any way, shape, or form, as challenges. He sees these ... what are called in the medical and psychiatric fields as 'disorders' ... as ...how shall I put this ... an emphasis on his personality? He has both Tourette's Syndrome and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The OCD will get to him long before the Tourette's. The TS, will never ever get to him. However, he uses the OCD to his advantage whenever he can possibly figure out a way to do so. (ok, so why can he not use it to MY advantage and get the neatnick part of it to clean my house and do his chores 'just so' ...huh? huh? huh? ...leave it to me to get an OCDer that doesn't care about neatness! horder/clutterbug ...hmph!)

His OCD enables him to make sure that he knows what he needs to know for school, to pass his classes, to make sure that his scores on the ACT & SAT are going to be top notch, and scholarship range. He uses it, to remember things about his friends, the things most friends forget ... birthdays, first days at work, work reviews, big tests ... and he calls the friend to check on them ... just the little things in life ..that when someone thinks of us, we feel loved and cared for ....

When he was first diagnosed with the Tourette's Syndrome, he was in the 5th grade. It was one of the years we didn't homeschool when he was younger. He had a teacher, who didn't get it. So, I'd had some on line friends write some letters about how their children's tourette's effected them in the classroom. I let him read the letters. As he did, he saw himself in those letters. After reading several of them ... he looked up with this big grin on his face and declared "I'm NORMAL in my Abnormalities!"

That, has been his life theme statement. I have these things in my life that society declares 'not normal' .... it's not normal to obsess on saying something 10 times till it sound 'right' ... it's not "normal" to walk around 'yelping' ...or saying "ayeb, OH MY, fish noise" (his current tic) it's not normal to have to walk only on the right side of the sidewalk and touch every portrution that sticks out of the walls ... and if you don't, turn around and start again (HAVE TO TOUCH) it's not normal to jerk your head back and swing it forward and back again. It's not normal to jerk your elbow out to the side.

It's just not normal ...unless ... you have OCD and Tourette's ... then, it's perfectly normal ...because that's what a person with OCD and Tourette's do ... so, he's normal in his abnormalities.

He's never had a bit of self esteem issues since he learned what the disorders are, and that for what he has, he's perfectly normal.

He's met a few people with SEVERE forms of the disorders, they've been in our church ... and they've been rejected ... and I heard him on the phone one afternoon ... calling every single youth group member ... explaining ... you know, you've been around it for years with my brother and I. It's not his fault. This, is what it is. He fought long and hard to bring acceptance for these other children. He had some sucess too ... his method ...education and kindness and example, with vunerability.

Some kids don't like him, some just don't find him funny. Some, need to hang around with kids who have the kind of money they have to go do things with ... having a kid who can just hang around a coffee shop or park or at home, isn't their cup of tea. It's different than when I
was a kid. Many of us had no spending money ...
ever ...so it was the majority that didn't have money to spend, not the miniority.

But I think, the lessons he's learning ... will keep him conscience of what God is doing for him, and through him as he enters this world we call adulthood.! happy Birthday Samuel.
I admire my son. I like who he is. If he were not my son, I would like to think, he'd let me be his friend. Happy Birthday Samuel.

What's In a Name

Miss Moofie did a meme about her middle name the other day. I cracked a joke about being glad that she didn't tag me. She then commented that she didn't know my middle name, to which, I responded that, I did not either.
So, after thinking about it for a day or so, I've decided that my name might make an interesting blog entry. It certainly has caused enough *interesting* situations in my life. If Moof thinks her middle name is complicated, she will be grateful for it by the time she is done reading this. *grin*

I was born, in Harbor City, California. My mom, was alone, because my father had left her when she was 3 months pregnant. He left her the day she told him that she was pregnant. She had a sister named Peggy, and aunt Peggy and my Dad had an Aunt Peggy. The name Peggy ... was a family tradition. However, there was far more to the name Peggy being a family tradition than met the eye. (none of those Peggy's, by the way, liked the name, nor thought it should be a family tradition ...)

Peggy, was NOT the legal name of any of those Peggy's. Peggy ... was a nickname. An Irish nickname. How that nickname came to be ... no one is really sure ... but the real name is Margaret. To me, Peggy coming from Margaret makes as much sense as Jack being the nickname for John. But, that is neither here nor there ...or maybe it is ...but ...

So, November 21, 1964, Janet Mills had a little girl, and on the birth certificate, went the first name of Margaret. There had to be a middle name to distinguish her from the numerous other Margaret's in the family, so she named her after her favorite cousin in Portland ... Joyce Kathleen. So, the name on the birth certificate became Margaret Kathleen. The name that Margaret Kathleen was IMMEDIATELY called, was, by family tradition ... was Peggi ...

But, there were soooooooo many Peggy's in the family .... you can't have baby Peggi confused with Aunt Peggy and Aunt Peggy ... so ... what to call her to make it clear that she's not Aunt Peggy or Aunt Peggy Ann? (Peggy Ann is my mom's sister, Aunt Peggy, my father's aunt.) ....oh! Let's nickname the Kathleen as well!!!!!!!! Peggi Kaye ... well ... that would look much better, more unique as one word ... thus and so, Peggikaye was nicknamed ... at about 2 hours old.

The birth certificate would say Margaret Kathleen, the name would be Peggikaye. Forever to be called, Peggikaye ...by family members ... in California ...where double names are not common.

In kindergarten ... kids referred to her as Piggikaye ... or Piggi ... well, Peggikaye did not like that ...at all. Thankfully, the muppets were not around yet ...so Miss Piggi did not come up. But ... it was bad enough. So, when we moved to a new community, Peggikaye chose to go by Margaret at school. Which, she soon found out, she dispised. She'd asked to go by Kathleen, but she was told no one used their middle names. *blink*

The name gets far more complicated ... at this point ... her name is
Margaret Kathleen Peggikaye Mills. ...eh, some kids have it worse ... no big deal.

But ... This girl is going to school where her mom is teaching. Peggikaye's mom is remarried to Harold Pearson (she married him when Peggikaye was 13 months old.) People start to call her mom Mrs. Mills. That, really bothers Mrs. Pearson ... a lot ... A LOT. Mr. Mills really wounded Mrs. Pearson ...and she doesn't want to be identified as Mrs. Mills anymore. The daughters, who adore their step father, and see him as their father, have no problem taking on his last name for convienience sake.
So ...Margaret Kathleen Peggikaye Mills ... becomes

Margaret Kathleen Peggikaye Mills Pearson ...

So ... in some situations ... she's Margaret Kathleen Pearson ...or Peggikaye Pearson ... or Margaret Mills ...or Peggikaye Mills ...or Peggi Mills ...or Peggi Pearson ...just depending on what the situation is and what the legal implication is ...and what home she happens to be staying at (always Mills at Dad's house, Pearson at mom's house ...except at a doctor's appointment .... )

Are you with me?

So, then ... Peggikaye Pearson ...or Peggikaye Mills, whichever you want to think of her as ... grows up ...and gets married ...adding another name to the mix ... Rendon ...

Margaret Kathleen Peggikaye Mills Pearson Rendon.

She then promptly gets divorced. When she does, she decides to drop the Margaret ...the Peggikaye ...and finally use the Kathleen ....

and for a short time manages to be Kathleen Rendon.

No one in her circle of friends is able to make the transition, much to her dismay. Back to Peggikaye.

So, A couple of years later, she gets married again, adding yet another name to the mix ... Eagler

So ... her full legal name when she has to deal with the social security administration is

Margaret Kathleen Peggikaye Mills Pearson Rendon Eagler

You should see the faces of the people in the office ...as any combination of those names have been used in legal situations in my life

Who is Margaret Mills
me
Who is Peggikaye Pearson
me
Who is Peggi Mills
me
Who is Kathleen Rendon
me
Who is Margaret Rendon (I got a ticket while married)
me
Who is Peggi Rendon
me
Who is Peggikaye Eagler
me
Who is Margaret Kathleen Eagler
who? oh ..me

So ..what is my middle name ... I have NO EARTHLY IDEA!!

What Was She Thinking?

In July, when Don came home from the hospital, we had home health care from the hospital's home health care agency.

The hospital was more than accomodating. The transition from an incredibly long, overwhelming hospital stay ...45 days ... to coming home was harder than I'd ever guessed it could have been. The agency seemed to understand that the adjustment was not going to be the piece of cake I expected it to be. I was so glad he was coming home! How could it be difficult?

He came home on a Friday or Saturday ... I don't remember now ... and on Saturday, the assessment was done. Monday,July 9th, the nurse assigned to his care came to our house. Professional, knowlegable, friendly and experienced ... we felt very comfortable .. even relieved with her being in charge of Don's care.

She'd been with the hospital's home health care for a number of years, and with the hospital for even longer ...a nurse for over 20. Most of those 20 years spent at this hospital. Her knowledge of Post polio syndrome and respiratory issues, especially regarding scoliosis was amazing. We didn't know if she'd studied up on it just to care for Don, or if she'd had experience with it before. It didn't matter. She knew how to care for Don ...and that was what was important.

She was supposed to come by Wednesday morning, and we didn't hear from her. Don, Wednesday afternoon, at 3:15, feeling caged in, after his long stay in the hospital, had his son take him to the coffee shop 2 blocks away. He'd be close enough to come home when she called to come over. She never called. We went to church that night, leaving Don home alone ... he thought he was doing well enough to be alone, but he started having trouble breathing ... and I had to leave church to come home and be with him. We started to talk about how we wished the nurse had came by like we thought we was scheduled to. We didn't know if his breathing troubles was expected or not.

We figured we mis understood ... maybe she'd come by on Thursday.

Friday Morning ... we hadn't heard from anyone in the home health agency ...not the nurse, not the PT, not the OT ... and by 11 I called the agency ... the supervisor called me right back. Very confused.

"are you sure?"
.... well, yeah ... I'm very sure ...
"well, the nurse said she saw Donald on Wednesday, but you weren't there, he was there alone."

Um mmm ... um ... no ma'am ... I was here all day.

"uh, let me call you back."

She called me back and asked permission to come out to the house.

She then showed us the file ... the nurses 'notes' of having been to our house from 3:30 to 3:55 ... complete with vital statistics ... and Don's signature ... only, it doesn't even remotely resemble Don's signature. Doesn't match their other signatures for Don either ... it does however, look like the nurse's handwriting.

Not only that, but we have the credit card reciept for 3:59 at the coffee shop... with Don's real signature ... for where he really was.

She didn't come by ...and she falsified records ...and she forged Don's signature.

Why in the world would a nurse for over 20 years ... completely falsify records ... why would she lie? Why would she say she'd seen him without the family present? Why would she forge his signature? Did she think that he was so incoherant that he wouldn't know the difference?

Does she realize the risk she put him at? It was really scary at the time to realize how much trouble breathing he had that night and we didn't know what we were to do about it ...and all we could think about was "I wish the nurse had come by"

It turned out ok ...and Don is only using oxygen occassionally, plus his bipap at night. He's walking with a cane ... still not driving. Still not able to open a can or jar ... still can't button his own jeans ... but he's doing well.

But today, I got a call from an investigator with the nursing board ... asking us to sign an afidavidt regarding the situation. We will. (she was very thrilled we were willing to cooperate) She said she couldn't go much into detail other than to say that there would likely be no plea bargaining, whatever that means)

It is a shame ... 20 year career ...just to avoid spending 30 minutes doing your job ... What a risk she put my husband at. I am friends ...both in real life and in the blog world with many medical professionals, and I can't imagine any of them risking their licence or career for this. I feel sorry for them when I think of this woman ... how many times they have to go the extra mile ... because of people like her ...

What was she thinking?

It's going to be an interesting ride.
I finally decide that it's time to get down to the business of therapy ... and ... my therapy team ... seems to dissapate on me. Dr. M leaves to go to another clinic, with the intention of me following him, but the insurance doesn't work out. The same day I find out I won't be following him, I find out that my therapist will be taking an emergency medical leave. She was supposed to have taken off right then for 6 weeks, however they had to work a few things out, and I saw her a couple more times. Her leave starts now. It will be 6 weeks starting now.

Could be interesting timing. We had a problem with social security ... they messed up, and my disability managed to get cancelled ... we are trying to get it fixed, should get fixed, but who knows how long it may get to fix. Hopefully quickly, our income has dropped to $495 for the month of October (for a family of 4!) um ..er ..uh ... yikes! What I don't know is ... does this mean my MEDICAL coverage has stopped as well? Or does the medicare/medicaid continue as well? I'm up a creek if that stopped when the social security disability stopped. The doctor appointments not being able to be kept is one thing .. not being able to get my rx's filled ...that ... is a whole 'nother kettle of fish!

What was frustrating, was calling Social Security and having them say "yes, we show that you called to say that you never got the forms, and that we didn't send them, but we still cancelled you because you didn't send them back into us." SAY WHAT? AND since when do you notify someone AFTER you've cancelled them????

My oh my.

Therapywise ... L, keeps saying that I'm disassociating during therapy. I'm not really sure what she means by that. This last time, she said that I did it more than normal. I know that I 'freeze' and don't know how to answer what she wants me to answer ... I get kind of numb. I guess I'll have to talk to her about that when she comes back. But, I'm aware of what is going on in the room ... I'm there ... I'm just 'stuck' and unable to respond, overwhelmed by what she's talking about or wants from me.

Her assignment while she's gone is for me to figure out what comfort is ... and how to be comforted.

Tagged by a theif!

PK, you had asked to play the interview thingy on my blog, so here goes:

1. What is one possession that you would hate to do without? The one possession I have the most trouble doing without would be my pen and paper. I could write down as many scriptures as I could remember, and those around me could remember ... so we could come up with our own Bible, but I'd also be able to write my heart to God, letters to others ... my ability to put into words what God is speaking to me into the written word would be lost if I could not do that.
2. What is one scripture you have trouble with, and why? Eat. There are many of them, that refer to eating, as a command, not a casual reference, but a command. Eating is an intrigral part of the celebrations of Christianity ... celebrations, not just survival. Food, it seems, is representative of more than just survival, but representative of the life that God has for us in His life and existance in heaven. Having had an eating disorder ... discovering that FOOD is really an intregral part of spirituality was an overwhelming part is kind of ... quite ... um ... overwhelming.
3. Where is one place you'd prefer to never return to? Pueblo, Colorado, except to see my fathers grave.
4. What is one thing you'd do differently if you had high school to do over again? I would take algebra and actually go on the medical school track.
5. If you were given $1000 that you had to spend on something for yourself, what would you use that money for? I would take a day at a spa, spoiling myself, being comforted in a way I'm not used to being comforted. Learning that it's ok to be comforted, to be comfortable. To be safe.

Those are my answers and here are the rules if you want to play too:1. If you are interested in being interviewed, leave me a comment saying "Interview me."
2. I will respond by posting five questions for you. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions