A Timid Knock At The Door...

Last Friday night, December 16, 2011 at 6:15 PM a timid knock on my door changed my life forever.

One October day in 2002, a phone call did too.

I was working at the police department, over 9 years ago, when I received a call from a mildly hysterical woman complaining about a wild animal on her porch. It was late at night, cold, rainy, and she was so upset over this beast on her porch that I called the Animal Control Officer out to try to catch it.

Shortly after the ACO's arrival, and retrieval of the frightening wild animal, he showed up at the police department holding about a 4 week old, half starved, soaking wet kitten and said "I guess I will be taking this to the pound..." I said "oh give me the thing" and I kept it in my lap for the rest of the night. The ACO's strategy had worked...

When I got off work I took the kitten home, and tossed it in bed with Haley who was sound asleep. Haley opened his eyes grabbed the kitten and said "Mew". He had always wanted to name a kitten "Mew" and it stuck.

Mew was so sickly that he needed to be bathed almost daily. His digestion system was a bit, um, faulty, but it didn't stop us from loving him. Mew started slowly growing stronger and was turning into a beautiful kitty with a personality like no other.

Near Halloween we had planned a weekend camping trip to Salem Massachusetts and while we usually left the cats at home to fend for themselves, we didn't have the heart to part with tiny and sickly Mew- so along he went. We set up a litter box etc in the camper Haley and his friend Justin were staying in and Mew spent the weekend camping at the beach with the rest of us. As it would turn out, the next year, even though Mew was an adult and healthy, we still brought him with us for old times sake.

Mew- we called him the gay cat because he was so extraordinarily handsome and meticulous. He had the softest most perfect fur, Jack Sparrow eye liner and he purred constantly. I would try to tell people stories about his perfection and personality and they found my tales far fetched- until they actually met him. Haley and I used to joke that Mew should have been the cat on the Fancy Feast commercials and that we were afraid he would be kidnapped by the Fancy Feast people... Mew loved everyone- he slept on my pillow, or my face, whichever- he would nibble on my nose or my eye lid when I was in REM sleep, just so I know he was there. I never went to bed without be joined by Mew. On Thursday 12/15/11, I went to bed, Sid was in his space next to me and I stuck my hand under my pillow and there was Mew. He just stayed there and let me fall asleep on him- that was his way. Docile and unconcerned with just about everything.

Mew wasn't perfect though- at some point he had developed an affinity for sneaking outside and when he did there was no catching him. Haley described it as "getting the wild in him" and no matter how careful we were, or how stressed we became when he escaped, he managed to do it with some frequency. I can't begin to count the amount of times I stood outside at night yelling "MOOOOO" and how many times I hugged him gratefully when he'd come home, and I'd beg him not to do it again..

Not only were Mew's escapades to the great outdoors dangerous for him, but his faulty digestive system had never completely healed and often when he returned he would be sickly from getting into something that he shouldn't have. While he wanted to eat anything anyone else was eating I had to be careful not to let him or I would pay the price with a stinky trail of liquified fecal deposits that didn't quite make it to the litter box... but that's the epitome of how much I loved Mew- how special he was, he was worth it even when it meant cleaning up after him.

Over the last few months Mews intestinal problem seemed to be getting worse. He had foul smelling gas and I was concerned that maybe he wasn't feeling good. Twice he had been so bad off that I had to lock him in the bathtub (I didn't have a better place and it is enclosed with doors) to let him get out of his system what ever had gotten in there- I didn't like it- but it was necessary. After a few days he would be back to normal and I would be swatting him off of my face while I tried to sleep or trying to keep him away from the milk in the bottom of my cereal bowl.

This December, Haley, Casey, Audrey and I had planned a weekend get away to Santa's Village over Casey's birthday. We were all looking so forward to it- we needed the vacation and the excitement of an adventure and we were counting down the days. In fact we were so excited about it that at the last minute we decided to leave Friday night instead of Saturday morning which meant that I had a ton of last minutes errands to run all day Friday. I was making good progress, trying to get the trash out and head to the dump, when Mew ran out the front door. I saw him dash past the satellite dish and then he was out of sight.

I continued with my rush to get my to do list finished and was just getting ready to jump in the shower when a timid knock came from the door. I had already dropped Sid at the kennel or no one could have even made it to the door, so I was a little leery of who was out there. I peeked out the window and saw two girls, figuring they were selling something I decided to answer...

One of the girls was visibly upset, the other was less and asked "is this your cat?" with that the upset girl turned toward me and was holding Mew. She was crying and apologizing and I kept telling her it wasn't her fault, that he was not supposed to be outside... I don't know how many time I repeated that- a dozen, a hundred- it's all a blur. The other girl told me that she did not think Mew was "still with us" and I thought she meant conscious- I was holding him and I never thought that he wasn't alive. The crying girl said he had run out in front of her, she didn't know what she had hit and stopped to see. Apparently her reaction caused a neighbor to come out and recognize Mew and together they brought him home to me. I thanked them extensively for that then I started to cry. The girl who had hit him was breaking down and they both left, I came inside wondering how I was going to find a vet so late on Friday night and what Mews injuries were going to do to our trip.

It was in a blink of an eye that I felt him die. He hadn't regained consciousness, he didn't move, I just felt his soul leave him. Instantly I knew that he had held on with all of his might to be able to die in my arms. I completely broke down in hysteria and put him on the chaise in my living room and knelt beside him screaming that he couldn't go- that he wasn't allowed outside, and that I would miss him for the rest of my life. I called Haley who came right over and I cried like I haven't in years, that gasping for air, tears flooding my face, unable to even speak sort of crying that comes from the deepest part of my whole body- I shook in disbelief and I held Mew until I was so sure that he wasn't coming back to me.

After some time had passed I clipped some of Mews fur to remember him by (and for when cloning becomes affordable) and Haley took Mew to his house until we can properly bury him. It occurred to me that I was not going to be strong enough to make it through the weekend festivities, then it occurred to me that I HAD TO and I crawled (literally) up the stairs and to the shower barely able to support myself with the weight of my devastation pressing down on me.

I tried so hard to be brave for the trip but I cried most all the way to New Hampshire. I relived that knock at my door all through the night and I cried under my pillow for hours. When I felt myself becoming inconsolable I went in the bathroom so I didn't upset the rest of my family, or I went for a walk around the hotel lobby but internally I didn't have a moments peace.

We did have a good time on our trip, I am proud of myself for not bailing out of it under the circumstances. I had moments where I was able to laugh and enjoy myself and I think I kept it together enough for the rest of the family to have a good time and Casey to have a nice 25th birthday but I ached so bad inside that at times I felt like I could not even breathe. Every now and again I would accidentally say out loud that "Mew is gone" and I would start to cry.

Originally we had planned to come home late Sunday and I would pick up Sid on Monday but as it was we came home early enough for me to pick up Sid Sunday night. I was dreading the loneliness of not having Mew and it would have been unbearable not to have Sid with me either. But even with Sid with me, I stalled coming home. I just could not bring myself to put one foot in front of the other to get into my own house. I thought about all of the white cat hair that I was constantly having to vacuum up, the putrid litter box and the annoyance of Mew racing me to the cat food cabinet and I longed for all those things. I must have driven around for about 2 hours before forcing myself to just come home.

Mew is gone forever and I really will miss him for the rest of my life. Few cats have had that affect on me but Mew- he was indescribably unique. Special doesn't describe him. I have pictures of Haley handcuffing him- I used to be able to roll him over on his back and vacuum his belly fur, he came when I called him, we dressed him and he didn't care and he loved me as much as I loved him.

I have tried to console myself by thinking that maybe Mew knew he was sick after so many recent bouts of intestinal problems. I have tried to think that maybe he was running off to die rather than to suffer. I have searched for verification of these occurrences and found some hearsay documentation- it brings me a little comfort to think this may be the case and I don't want to be told different. I don't want to think that Mew only lived a portion of his intended life. I want, I NEED, to believe that December 16, 2011 @ 6:15PM was his time to leave me and that he is where he is meant to be.

Everyone misses you Mew. Audrey does. Sid does. They know. I know too. I feel you still jumping into bed with me and I have instinctively reached for you. I'll miss you my whole life, you were, and always will be, the best.

It's Diana but my momma calls me dummy....

A few days ago I acquired a new tank for Ubb. It is a monstrosity of a thing- 48" long, 13" wide, and it sits on a stand which makes its overall height tall enough to be a half wall- ever since I got it I have been wondering where in the world I was going to put it...

After walking around and noticing there is nowhere with that much empty space in my house, I thought if I only had a smaller sofa, then I could put the tank and stand behind it - the sofa I have now is very VERY deep, so it already sticks out further than I would prefer it too...

That set the wheels in motion for me thinking I needed a smaller sofa. My living room is not huge- and it's narrow, so whatever I got could not be more than 72" in length and I have looked fairly enthusiastically online and locally for a sofa less than 72" and haven't had much luck.

Plus, new sofa had to be cheap- really cheap as I have no money to be out buying furniture in anywhere other than a discount place, a yard sale, a thrift shop etc and even then I am splurging beyond my means...

Today I was in town running errands and decided to look at the usual hot spots for bargains, Ken-A-Set (Jenny, that's where you got that cool round chair), The Salvation Army and as a last resort Goodwill.

Our Goodwill has a very small selection of furniture- very small. In fact I don't know that I have ever really seen a sofa there but I went anyway just "in case". Today they did have something that may have worked- a double reclining loveseat - but it was dirty and not what I wanted...

But next to it there were two very contemporary and huge, tiered, square, end tables. These tables were sitting in a way that made them look like a sofa (using some imagination) and the wheels started turning in my head...

While I was looking a woman approached me- she was chatty, fairly well kept, my age but obviously a little on the slow side and by the attitude of the employees I deemed they thought her a nuisance. I think she probably comes in the store everyday.

One of the employees addressed her as Diane, then said "actually it's Diana, isn't it?" The chatty woman then said "My momma named me Diana but most the time she calls me dummy so I answer to almost anything". She wasn't kidding, she was stone cold serious and that really bothered me...

As I looked at these tables trying to figure out if I could turn them into a sofa, Diana was right there glued to my every out loud thought and she thought my idea was amazing. The problem was that I didn't have any way to transport these things and I was stuck on a decision.

Diana then tells me she has a friend with a truck and she bets he would help me. I said the obigatory "no, no, no, I'll will figure something out" but Diana insisted on helping me and with that she said it would take her 5 minutes to walk to her friends house and she would be back.

I stood there and waited wondering what the heck I was doing- anywhere that's a 5 minute walk from the local Goodwill is skid row Waterville with very few exceptions but Diana seemed so determined to help me that I figured I would wait and see if she came back.

Fifteen minutes or so later, here she is, with her friend Randy, and Randy's truck and Randy is happy to load these things and drive the 30 miles (round trip) to my house if I would cover the gas.

While I paid for the tables (which I had negotiated the price down by $10) Randy and Diana drove to the back of the store and loaded them in his truck, she came in to get me and said he was waiting to follow me, glad she could help, and to have a nice day.

I was a little bit dumbfounded to tell the truth. The whole thing was way out of my comfort zone as I don't easily interact with people but here were these strangers, on a Saturday afternoon out for nothing except to do a good deed.

I gave the $10 I had saved to Diana and she was adamant that she didn't want it. I told her it was for all the help she provided and the inspiration she had given me because I would have given up on this project if she hadn't been so eager to find me a way to transport them.

I gave her a hug and told her thank you for being so friendly to a stranger- something that is way WAY out of character for me, but obviously not out of character for her. All I kept thinking was... her momma calls her dummy.

Diana set off walking back to where ever she came from, and Randy and his wife followed me all the way home and he helped me put the tables in the garage until such time as I have time to make them into the couch that I have planned.

I gave him some gas money and he went on his way just as happy as could be that he was able to help out a stranger in need. I have done good deeds here and there but not like this- these people were excessive and I doubt it was a one time thing.

The tables are now in my garage waiting until such time as I have time to turn them into the amazing couch that I see in my mind. I have cushions saved from other projects, and an entire roll of upholstery fabric that I bought a long time ago just in case I ever needed it.

My entire project will cost under $100 and the most amazing thing- I measured the two tables and they are 36X36 so end to end they are..... 72 inches- exactly the size that I needed and I will have something cooler than anything I could have ever bought premade.

Plus, I am always going to have the memory of Diana. An overly friendly, good hearted, a little bit slow woman who hangs out at Goodwill and helps out strangers like me. Her momma named her Diana but she calls her dummy... I will never forget that.

Why I get defensive...

When guys like this

<-------------

have a tattoo of dead pig dressed in a police uniform and they put a picture of it on the internet with a death threat that mentions my kid by name, you can bet your ass that I am going to be sensitive about people criticizing the police.


So just FYI, if someone makes a derogatory comment about their opinions of the police, I am going to get pissed off about it- if you can't handle it then defriend me but before you do, try walking in my shoes or better yet, my sons.

The below story is an example of what the police deal with on a daily basis and the above is my opinion of those who bitch about them for their efforts.

By Scott Monroe
Staff Writer

WINSLOW -- A Winslow man pulled over in a traffic stop early Tuesday morning was arrested on drug charges, including possession of bath salts, police said.

The man, Nathaniel K. Kulik, 21, of 140 North Reynolds Road, was convicted last year on gun and drug charges after he was arrested with a loaded revolver outside an abandoned building in 2009.

Kulik was being held without bail Tuesday afternoon at the Kennebec County jail in Augusta.

Winslow police officer Haley Fleming was on patrol early Tuesday morning when he began following a 1996 Honda Civic on China Road, according to Police Chief Jeffrey Fenlason. Haley knew that the driver, Kulik, was violating a court-ordered curfew by being out at that hour, so he pulled the car over on Bay Street at 12:09 a.m., Fenlason said.

Fleming searched the car and then Kulik's residence, where Fleming found marijuana pipes, and small but usable amounts of marijuana, cocaine and bath salts in his bedroom, Fenlason said.

"Bath salts" is one of the street names for a designer drug that can reportedly cause hallucinations, paranoia and psychotic behavior. It became illegal in Maine two months ago.

"There was no indication he (Kulik) was under the influence of drugs at the time of the stop," Fenlason said.

Kulik was cooperative and was arrested on charges of unlawful possession of a schedule W drug, unlawful possession of a synthetic or hallucinogenic drug, possession of marijuana, sale and use of drug paraphernalia and violating conditions of release, according to Fenlason.

Kulik was convicted last year of carrying a concealed weapon, sale and use of drug paraphernalia, and possession of scheduled drugs. The conviction stemmed from November 2009, when police arrested Kulik, then 19, and a 17-year-old male from Embden, outside an abandoned building.

Police said among the items they seized was a .32-caliber revolver loaded with four bullets.

Kulik said that if he hadn't "taken something earlier to calm himself down, he would have pulled the gun out and shot the officers and himself," police said at the time.

I Got All Night.....

Once home this evening I noticed a missed call from Time Warner Cable on the house phone- hmmmm... did I forget to pay my internet bill in August? I certainly could have- with everything else that I have had going on especially with Dad, forgetting my $29.95 bill seemed the least of my worries.

Fearing I may lose my lifeline to the world (Facebook) I called Time warner Cable to make a payment over the phone- just like I do every single month. It is all automated and I know it by heart- I don't even listen to the menu anymore I just say Yes, Pay Bill, Minimum, Check and then give them the account number. Takes literally 2 minutes. Except for tonight.

When I said "minimum" the recording told me I had a balance of $114. which I knew was not right so I waited to speak with someone in customer service. A few rings later, Travis, answered the call. I explained my problem to him at which point he informed me that my internet had not been paid for three months and it was $39.99 a month, not $29.95. I informed him that he was incorrect. The conversation went downhill fast after that.

I told Travis that I had my bank statement and Time Warner statement in front of me showing my last payment was in July and that since this was August, July was in fact not three months ago. Travis then corrected me by saying that "technically, this is September, I mean, if you want to get technical about it" I told him that yes, my bad, it is September 1st but regardless, my last payment had been in July. He argued, I argued, he said I would have to bring my paperwork in to the office and then IF there was a mistake they would correct it. I said, that was not acceptable and neither was his attidude and that I wanted to speak to someone else. Travis then asked me, very sarcastically, who I wanted to speak to and I may have said "anyone who isn't a dick" . Travis then hung up on me.

Well. Ever since hurricane Irene, internet service has been out sporadically over three states in New England and I am sure that the customer service people at Time Warner have probably heard as much bitching from people as they can possibly stand, however, I have not had an outage, that wasn't why I was calling and I did not start the fight between Travis and I. Plus, I have all night to call back and my thoughts are that Time Warner really has bigger problems to deal with right now than my $29.95 bill so it is to everyone's advantage to resolve the issue, pronto.

Naturally, I called back. This time I spoke to Troy. I advised Troy that I wanted to speak to a supervisor and I wanted to speak to one right now. Troy politely asked me to hold. When the phone rang back to Troy I could feel him quivering at the thought of having to speak to me... but he explained that the call was in queue and asked was there anything he could do to help me. I decided to give Troy a chance. I think I heard his teeth chattering in fear.

Troy was quite patient and polite though as he went over everything with me and saw that yes, I had in fact made a payment in July, but the problem was that my bill had gone up $10.05 per month and since I always just make the payment over the phone and I always make it for the same amount and was unaware that it had gone up, I was now past due an extra $30.15 on top of the August payment I had forgotten to make and some other crap that made the total owed some outrageous amount. Troy fiddled with things for a bit and then asked me to hold so that he could talk to a supervisor.

I was on hold for at least 10 minutes, maybe 15, when Scott answered. I asked Scott if he was a supervisor and he reluctantly said "yes, why?". I asked if Troy had spoken to him and he said no, he just picked up the phone and there I was. Bottom line was that I got to start all over again with, Scott. To make this long story not too much longer Scott said that yes my bill had gone up because my contract had expired blah blah blah. I decided that it was to my advantage to be civil to Scott as he did have the power to change things and eventually Scott knocked the payment down to $34.95 per month and waived all of the other bogus charges that were showing on my bill, I made my payment and all ended fine (hopefully) in Time Warner Internet Land.

Now here is where it gets bizarre... before hanging up with me Scott reviewed my previous calls to Travis and Troy and agreed that Troy had been helpful whilst Travis had not. Scott said he would speak with him and I actually told Scott that I was satisfied with how things had turned out and that I didn't think it was necessary for him to speak with Travis. Scott said it was my decision. Truthfully, yes, the man pissed me off and yes he has the customer service skills of probably anyone who has spent the last three days taking calls from people griping about their internet still being off, and yes he was rude and condescending but the way I figure it, he is working nights answering the phone at Time Warner and that is punishment enough.

I'll bet that whenever I call there from my home phone number in the future, that a little red flag pops up and all of the call takers pretend to be busy till the new guy finally answers the phone... ;)

Sometimes, I Am Afraid To Live Here :(

They're boys and girls- they range in age from 7 to 17 - they come from the last house on the right and the first house on the left - they're bratty kids and I am sick of them.

I have had to call the Sheriff's Office more times this summer than I have ever called in my life. These kids are driving me crazy.

I have watched them torment my dog, throw trash in my yard, ride their bikes purposely in front of traffic- I have listened to the foulest language, the non stop roar of go carts doing donuts in front of my driveway, and screams in the middle of the night.

I have been awoken by this gang of kids beating on street signs with some sort of pipe, smashing glass and then today shooting..... something. I didn't see what they had but I immediately went outside to get Sid. He is afraid of them too.

While I was outside Deputy Cole showed up- I had not called him (someone else did) but I flagged him down to give him a description of the kids and where they went. I told him that I was beginning to be afraid to live here because this goes on day and night and it's escalating. He said he would go talk to the kids but we all know (including the thugs) that this is not going to stop them.

I don't want to be the crazy lady that throws cats at the local kids (metaphor!) but I am so tired of them and I worry about them vandalizing my place or worse- doing something to hurt Sid. I don't know what to do besides keep calling the Sheriff's Office and taking pictures of the little shits.

For those of you who are going to suggest that I go talk to the parents- that is out of the question- I am far to shy and non confrontational for that. PLUS- I am not the only one on this street complaining and calling the police- one of my neighbors who has lived here for thirty years is considering moving- that's how bad it is!

Finally... I'm Broken

I broke just now. I don't know what it took- I wasn't listening to any sad music or thinking of anything in particular it just finally happened- I was standing in the kitchen and all of a sudden I pictured myself putting things in my fathers coffin. The trivial pursuit card with the Willie Mays answer on it from our game at the Grand Canyon in 1984 and the only time I ever beat him- my interpretation of the electoral college because he has never once let me finish a sentence when I have been talking about it- then I started to just think about other random things, like telegrams that he sent me for my birthday because he was too far away to be with me any other way- he was at sea- probably catching the very disease that 40 years later would be claiming his life.

I am not your average person. My thoughts are just different and I have thought about everything and every outcome on every subject and whether I am right, wrong or indifferent I am always convincing at least to myself. I have a lot of far fetched ideas about life- I'm not a religious person, at least not in any conventional or explainable way. I've thought a lot about death too- not just lately but for for a good chunk of my life. I have been on that brink and it doesn't bother me to think of death as a choice, after all from the moment of each of our conception our only true destiny is to someday die. Seems as though we are in control of everything in between though and I'm not sure I like that.

I have been setting myself up for the last few years to face the inevitable and that being that my parents, are growing older, and that it is likely they will not be around for another 25 years- I mean, it's not like any of us know when our time is coming but each day we grow older really just pushes us closer to death and in their case I have been trying to prepare myself for the future, for a while now.

I thought I had a pretty good grip on it. We're born, we live, we die- big deal. But something finally broke tonight and for all of my thinking and reasoning and bull shitting and planning I found my self sitting on the kitchen floor crying. I am not good in uncontrolled situations and I am angry at the lack of control that I have right now - my instinct is to metaphorically run away but I am trying so hard not to do that right now... I am so afraid that this time, by the time I come back from where ever I go to protect myself, that it will be too late.

I am a mess and my ramblings here are proof of that.

FORTY-ELEVEN

So I am officially past the 1/2 century mark as of August 7th. The day came and went without any sort of apocalyptic event, luckily.

Prior to, Mom and Dad came up and took Audrey and I out to lunch and gave me my typical birthday check* (I had long ago conned any other would be birthday gifts out of them and they reminded me of that on the card LOL)

The day of my birthday was pretty uneventful 'cept for having Audrey to keep me entertained, a bunch of facebook posts and a few phone calls. We did the actual celebrating the next day when Haley and Casey were both off of work.

So it was Monday when Mom and Dad met Haley and Casey and Audrey and I at Margaritas which incidentally, prior to our arrival I had specifically said that I wanted no extra attention- I didn't need any birthday singing or fanfare, I even warned of the consequences for disobedience and kept a constant vigil on the comings and goings of those at my table... still someone was able to sneak away and the next thing I knew the clapping started and someone put a sombrero on my head and I was officially a spectacle. Ug.

The rest of my birthday present comes the first weekend in September and I can't wait. Haley and Casey and Audrey are taking me on a weekend adventure to the White Mountains where we will do some motel'ing, eating, shopping, and Santas Village'ing. It has been years since we have been to Santas Village in the summer, plus Audrey has never been, so I am really looking forward to that. There is no better present than being able to spend quality time with the people who love me and vice versa <3

* I spent half of my birthday check on a new tank for Ubb and will have the other half for the trip.

Out Of The Hospital, But Not Of The Woods

I blame myself for not paying more attention when I accompanied Juan and his partner way back when to that first appointment where I said I was really only along for the free lunch... but console myself by remembering that I had specifically said "If there is anything I don't know, tell me now so that I don't have any big surprises" and I was assured that I knew all there was to know? Well, I DIDN'T KNOW that that appointment was in a freaking cancer center. I guess I missed the sign or didn't think to read it- the place looks just like a medical complex where I would go to get my head examined or a mammogram- there was nothing about it that screamed cancer center. In fact I did not know this, nor really what kind of doctor Juan's doctor is, until he was released from the hospital and I came home and started researching him online. Now things were making a little more sense except for that one burning question, "why didn't anyone tell me this before?"

The home health care nurse came both Saturday and Sunday after Juans relaese from the hospital Friday. Juan showed up for his doctor appointment Monday morning. This was the appointment that the hospital had scheduled for him for the follow up and catheter removal. Upon arrival at the doctors office (the same one who had done the surgery) Juan was told that the incision sight looked fine but that the doctor was not going to remove the catheter (In a manner like eewww- I am way over qualified for that!) but his staff would call a urologist and make an appointment.

Juan's doctors staff was unable to reach a urologist and Juan was sent home, again, catheter intact to wait for a phone call for an appointment to have it removed. The call never came.

Juan was also waiting on a call for an appointment for when he was to return to the hospital to have the port put in. That call never came either.

Now I swear that what I am about to say is not something that I am making up- I can't swear on a stack of bibles to it's truth because I was not listening in on the conversation- but after the cluster of events over the past few days I believe this to be true...

Impatient waiting for the phone call about the catheter removal and the port installation, Juan decided to call the hospital. The hospital staff checked and told him that he was scheduled to have the port installed the next day at whatever time and that someone would be up to get him when the time came. What? Up to get him? Juan was confused- he asked "what do you mean up to get me? " the hospital staff asked, "aren't you still in room 467?" Juan says, "NO! I was released last Friday!"

For three days- the hospital still showed Juan to be in his room... am I the only one who thinks this is preposterous? I hope that I get to see the bill to see how much Medicare was charged for the three days after Juan was discharged from Maine General Augusta Hospital...

Maine General Augusta

After Juan's surgery on the 12th, his partner and I went to visit him daily during his stay in the hospital. He spent the the remainder of the 12th all of the 13th and some of the 14th in CCU.

CCU was very nice. All of the nurses were attentive and pleasant and I felt as though Juan was being well taken care of even though he had had minimal contact with his surgeon and had still not been informed of the cancer. I will be the first to admit that I was not there around the clock and Juan's memory was a little hazy- it's also not like the old days when you can pick up a patients chart and see what has been written down- everything is done on a well guarded computer so I can't say with any degree of certainty that the doctor had not told Juan of the cancer, but if he did he not tell him while he was lucid.

It was the 14th when Juan was moved from CCU to a semi private room on the fourth floor and to all of our surprise, the fourth floor is a super secret place that is not even mentioned in the hospital directory. Imagine our shock, and his, when the elevator doors opened to a big sign that said ONCOLOGY. Really? Cause there for while I was thinking that I had been the one with the morphine drip and had hallucinated this whole cancer thing..

The semi private room was so small. There was little room for visitors or staff- it was unbearably sad listening to the man in the other bed and it wasn't just his moaning, it was his conversation with a nurse about how the hospital had misplaced his CPAP machine when he had been moved to this room. Luckily, that was not my problem and Juan seemed to be doing as good as could be expected. He was in intense pain from the invasive surgery, still wasn't clear on what had been done to him and by now his partner and I really could offer him no new news as we had had none.

Due to the confinement in the room and Juan nodding off from the narcotics dripping into his veins we didn't stay too long that visit. We promised to be back the next day, Friday and said our good nights.

The 15th came and we were planning the trip to Augusta (35 miles or so) when Juans partner got a phone call from the hospital saying that the doctor had ordered him released. What? He still had a catheter, they had not put the "port" in (I know nothing about that other than it was something that was supposed to have been done) and only 18 hours or so earlier he was nearly bed ridden with his morphine drip- how could he be ready to be discharged? None the less, we headed to Augusta to pick him up.

For the rest of my life (or at least the average career length of a nurse at Maine General) I have to be very VERY careful never to be in a car accident or anything that will land me in that hospital because I am quite sure that in the nurses lounge there is a dartboard with my picture taped to it by now... but moving on, it was now probably 6PM and I sent Juan's partner in to see him hoping that I could have a chat with the charge nurse. I was very nice ( I was! ) but I told her that I wanted to make it known that I disagreed with the discharge orders. She looked puzzled. I told her, Juan and his partner live out in the sticks - in an emergency it is 45 minutes for an ambulance to get there. His bedroom is upstairs, and you can't even drive to the house- it is a long walk from the driveway. I also told her, his partner is 77 years old, there will be no one else home and I don't know that she is capable of taking care of him. His dressings would need to be changed, his catheter taken care of (didn't ask, don't want to know what that involves) and the nurse just looked at me like I was the biggest bitch she had ever met for questioning his discharge. I tried to explain to her that without the morphine drip he could be a handful and his partner is not always "with it" She said to me, and I quote "We can't change peoples personalities" I told her I understood that but wanted it on record that I objected to his release.

The charge nurse then went to Juan's room and asked him if he was ready to go home and of course he said yes- he had been planning it for the last couple of hours and the man in the bed next to him had just been released so naturally he felt ready to go- the charge nurse then asked his partner if she was capable of taking care of him and she sheepishly, as to not offend or cause controversy said yes, and with that I was escorted to the waiting room while the nurse showed Juan's partner how to take care of him.

About 30 minutes later a social worker shows up at the waiting room. She was very nice but she had obviously been called there to "quell the situation" and I had to start from the beginning again with why I objected to this happening. She did make it clear that it was not my place to make the decision, which I do understand, but I made it clear that NO ONE should make the decision without first checking the facts, such as, is home in an urban or rural location? Do you have an extended walk to get inside? Will there be competent people at home to care for you? Simple questions that to me, should be on a form on the discharge papers and signed off on by the patient and his caregivers- but they aren't.

After some time with the social worker and her really not being able to make a valid argument, she excused her self and came back to tell me that she had spoken to Juan and without mentioning me, recommended that a home health care nurse come by daily and help him, and he agreed, did I? Yes, at minimum, I agree. Thank you! For the first time since the ordeal started I felt like someone actually listened to pathetic insignificant me! With that, the nurses disconnected Juan's IV, gave him an appointment card with a time to see his doctor, in his office , for Monday, for follow up and to have the catheter removed, they then loaded him into a wheelchair and rolled him out to the parking lot said "good-by and good luck". (They may have mumbled something to me but I am pretty sure it was not luck )

Juan's partner drove him home, I went too to make sure he got inside and situated. He asked me if I was staying for the fireworks and a few other really loopy things and then apologized repeatedly for not being in his right mind. I left for my own home 45 miles away, the home heath nurse came Saturday and Sunday and all was well, or as well as could be expected.

Now I have my own opinion about why Juan was released late Friday afternoon, but I would really like to hear what others think... after reading this story and the 2 previous ones about Juan's doctor... does anyone smell anything fishy here?

The bad side of bed side manner

For confidentially reasons some of the names have been changed to protect my ass from getting kicked.

On July 12, someone close to me, I will call him, Juan, was scheduled for surgery, a biopsy to be exact- not the laparoscopic kind, but rather the full blown filet you open and dig around inside your innards kind... this story reflects the events prior to, during, and immediately after that day.

For several years Juan had been complaining of something aching in his chest. He had test after test after test and while I am not privy to knowing the results of each of them, my conclusion was that no one could determine a cause for Juan's pains. Skip ahead to 2 months ago or so, a new doctor and some more tests and again, things I am not privy to knowing, but it concluded in Juan needing to have a biopsy.

I went with Juan and his partner to the office of the surgeon that would be performing the biopsy. I sat in the waiting room for a good 2 hours- I didn't understand what was going on, I really was just there for the free lunch that I had been promised afterwards. You see, prior to that appointment I had specifically asked Juan's partner if there was anything I should be clued in on- I didn't want any big surprises- she assured me there was not.

Juan was quite uptight about the pending surgery and he mentioned the cancer word a few times but again, I had not been officially told that could be the cause of his distress and he had been tested for cancer several times already, so I wasn't taking it too seriously I chalked it up to "worst case scenario" talk. Juan had repeatedly said he was far more worried about the surgery itself than he was about what they may find and I just went blindly (in retrospect) along with that.

I went to the hospital on July 12 with Juan and his partner, his last words to me before the anesthesiologist took him away were to take notes throughout the day on anything the doctor came to tell us which I assured him I would. I then patiently sat in the waiting room, um, waiting, for the surgeon to speak with us. I'd say between arriving at the hospital and then speaking with the surgeon, about 5 hours had passed. Finally, we were called into a conference room with a small table and 2 chairs, the surgeon sat, the others with me stood and listened as the surgeon uttered the words "he came through fine, I found a malignant cancer and two nodules and I don't know what they are" Just like that.

Literally, I could feel the blood draining from my head as I steadied myself on the wall to keep from falling down. I shook as I tried to take the notes I had promised to Juan and I don't know that I could even see the paper I was writing on. I had a meek crackling voice by now and I tried to ask the surgeon a few more questions but he made it clear that he had no intention of lingering to answer things from insignificant me. As he hurried through whatever he said, I interrupted him and asked that he use laymen terms so I could make sense of what I was writing and he snapped that he saw no need for me to write anything down, that his report would be ready in three days. I explained that Juan was depending on us to fill him in as soon as he was awake and the doctor told me in no uncertain terms that he would see him first and he would fill him in.

I don't remember what else I asked Juan's doctor that morning- but I do remember this, practically verbatim: "It is not up to me to fill each family member in on everyone of my patients conditions, if I had to do that I would never get anything else done, that's why it is up to my patient to talk to the friends and family" I had questions about another surgery to remove the cancer, chemotherapy, prognosis- they all went unanswered as the surgeon pushed his way through us to get out the door and on with his day.

Have we all seen the commercial on TV for "The Cancer Treatment Center Of America" where the woman tells of her doctor coming in and saying "Peggy, you have cancer. It was like he was telling me, go to the store, there was no compassion" ? That is exactly how this consultation went, only it was not a TV commercial, it was real life and it left me dizzy.

Our group relocated to another waiting room where we were to remain until Juan was conscious and we could see him. We waited.... we waited... we finally decided to get a drink or a snack or something so we left word at the nurses station of where we would be and when we came back we told them that too. Still we waited- no one else seemed to be taking the news as hard as I was though. I sat there with my head in my hands nearly sobbing while Juan's son threw his empty soda bottle at my head (Juans son is 48!) (years!) and told me to lighten up or something similar.. Finally a nurse came in and said "there you guys are, we have been looking all over for you! Juan is awake and keeps asking for you, we didn't know where you were!" Trust me, with that and the arrogance, ignorance and God complex I had experienced earlier in the day with the surgeon it is a wonder I did not explode right then and there.

We were led down the hall to Juans room where he was very happy to see us. He was groggy and confused and asked what the doctor had said- I did not have the heart to tell him and decided it was not my place, plus he would not remember anyway. Juan's son left, his partner and I stayed a while longer, his doctor... never did show up. The nurse said she did not expect to see the doctor until probably 9PM or so... clearly this was inconsistent with what the doctor had told us back in the consultation room but during the course of the day I had learned that no one, even the ones in my own little group, excelled at communication.

Juan's partner and I finally left without having seen the doctor again. I felt so bad leaving, I didn't want Juan to be alone when his callous and lacking of compassion doctor came in and told him the news. It bothered me to no end but as it turns out it shouldn't have. By the time Juan's doctor arrived he apparently wasn't feeling like talking- he simply told Juan "it will take a few days to get the test results back, I'll check on you tomorrow".

Speaking of tomorrow, that's when I will continue this-

Welcome Back, Me.

I am so disappointed in my lack of diligence in keeping this blog going after doing so very well at first.

I let a touchy subject and some chastising from an anti admirer get to me, so I decided I needed a break- that was 5 months ago and I regret now all of the events that have come and gone without me writing about them.

Don't get me wrong, I am in no way feeling like the world came to an end because I didn't sit in front of the computer typing my thoughts and feelings for a few months- I know that it is not the world that missed me, but I missed me.

True, these words are what I depend on for the future when dementia sets in, or when I just need a trip down memory lane... but they are also my sounding board. They are my way of yelling to whoever wants to listen about things that I am passionate about, they are my way of looking for answers to things that I can't for the life of me figure out- my words are venting, and rambling, and wondering and laughing and remembering and bitching... in fact, they are Hermit Crabbing!

I am hoping to get back into the habit of posting something, anything, every couple of days and believe me- I have a lot stored up to talk about!

Happy St. Patricks Day

I wasn't even thinking about it being Saint Patricks day until I was looking for something to wear to the dentist office and then realized it needed to be green!

Ever since my last visit to the dentist I have felt as though something wasn't right with the healing process. My gums feel lumpy and sore and even though I can't see the spot where it hurts, I mentally pictured it as being exactly like when Haley broke his collar bone- which was a sharp piece of broken bone poking against the skin with such force that it is a wonder it didn't split open. Yep.. that's how my mouth felt, but on a smaller scale than the collar bone incident.

Yesterday I called the dentist and he actually called me back so I could explain my situation with great detail and accuracy which enabled him to fit me in today to have a look at the problem.

About one minute into the visit he hit the sore spot with that pricker thing they use and after my flinching stopped I got a double whammy of lidocaine. A lot more pricking went on, but then I didn't care. It turned out that I did indeed have a bone fragment trying to protrude through my gums and that has been what's irritating me, well, irritating my mouth.

So I sat there while he sliced up my gums, tried to scrape out the offending bone chip but it would not budge. He said that many times just tearing up the skin as much as he did will make a some scar tissue that will cover up the sharp bone so that its not an irritant, but if that doesn't happen in a week or so to come back and he will shoot me up again, slice open the whole gum and then get in there, file down the bone and stitch it back together. I reminded him that I needed my mouth to be intact for the severe gluttony I have scheduled when I go to Disney and he attempted to assure me that I would be fine in 17 days.

As for right this minute, the lidocaine is wearing off and I am going to need something to make my mouth stop throbbing in pain. Since I spent all of my daily allowance on gas to get to the dentist I won't be able to numb myself with green beer so I am very glad that I did not take all of my Tylenol 3 after my first appointment concerning this tooth.

Luckily I had nothing to do today but housework and go to the dump and I am happy to put both of those things off and go back to bed and maybe miss most of this jagged, cut up gum skin as it attempts to form it's scar over my protruding jaw bone fragment.

Good-night.

And Then There Was Audrey!

We have lost track of how many casts Audrey has had to have to try to correct her talipes equinovarus (I use the technical term here because whenever we say "club foot" people automatically assume we mean "pigeon toed", which we do not.)

Her first casts were tiny little plaster things that went from toe to thigh on both legs when she was but a week old. We had to go to Bangor every week to have them soaked off and then the foot manipulated into another position and the casts reapplied. Then after several weeks she had surgery on both feet to stretch the tendons so that her feet could move out like they needed to, and then more casts to keep them there. Once she started to want to crawl the casts were no longer an option as to not impede her natural development, but she had to wear a brace across both of feet, first all of the time, and then just at night.

In time she outgrew the shoes that attach to the brace and before a refitting her doctor, Doctor Turi, assessed her and decided her left foot needed to be manipulated some more and again be in a cast. Again this would be a weekly procedure, he felt as though three times would be sufficient, plus a new kind of leg brace and new shoes for her feet brace.

When Audrey was a baby she didn't know any different and having her legs in casts was sad for us, but it didn't matter much to her. Now that she is one, we were more concerned with how she would take to having that toe to thigh cast, and now they need to be fibreglass for durability... we prepared for the worst.

Well... her first cast was hot pink and she slept through the entire process of it's application. The next week during it's removal was not so pleasant for anyone involved, but she left with a fancy flower colored cast. The week after was highlighter yellow* and it was supposed to be the last one- however doctor Turi decided one more week would not hurt so she now has a purple cast picked about by Travis, the technician that puts them on and takes them off. (He picked purple in honor of my hair! I also need to add that Travis is wonderful- when she had the pink cast taken off I forgot to take it with me and he realized it, bagged it, wrote our name on it and remembered to give it to us the next week (: )

Anyway... Audrey has not slowed down because of the casts. She misses her playtime in the tub but other than that she pays no attention to the cast. She gets around as well as she ever did and I really applaud her for that. I am pretty sure if it were me........ I would not be so pleasant! Hopefully this Friday the purple cast will come off and allegedly no more will go on- Doctor Turi promised we would be castless by the time we left for Disney World so if he did chose to do one more- so be it, but hopefully not.

Moving on to my * about the highlighter yellow cast.... for the most part, Audreys cast is not especially noticeable. It's winter, she wears pants over it, all that shows is her foot and most of the time people just overlook it. That changed when she got the highlighter yellow cast though. People stared. Some asked what happened to her but most tried awkwardly to act like they never saw it. Little kids tugged on their parents and pointed and the parents acted mortified. Some little kids came right up and asked and the parents apologized. One pathetic woman in a restaurant gave Audrey and her mom the stink eye like she just KNEW that Audrey had been abused... I almost got up and said something to her but didn't want to make a scene... so the point is this, well two actually- I don't recommend the highlighter yellow cast on a child, and if you see a child in a cast or a brace or a wheelchair and you find it impossible not to gawk or sneer, than at least ask the parent what happened if you feel it is your business. Don't jump to a conclusion that the child has been abused... and if your little kids are tugging at you and pointing, it's OK to let them ask what happened. None of us have been insulted over that- we are insulted over the unwarranted, incorrect and pompous presumptions that are made by the uncouth.

I wanted to make a video of Audrey and for her too, cause she will never remember this time in her life- and how delightful she is, and how well adjusted she is to her situation- So this is for you Audball, your perseverance is to be commended and in 17 days... we will be at Disney and your leg will be free to play, and swim, and whatever else your tough little spirit wants it to do! You are much loved.

Japanistan

"Afghan officials say a suicide bomber has killed more than 33 people at an Afghan army recruiting center." This was what was scrolling beneath some of the pictures of the devastation that is now Japan while I was watching CNN on Sunday.

I watched the pictures stream by of the people in Japan wandering dazed, looking for loved ones or any trace of the life they once had and thought of how much they were suffering through no fault of their own- and then thought of all of the war torn parts of the world that keep on fighting, destroying and killing by choice and it just seemed ludicrous. It's comparable to one person barely holding onto life and a healthy person committing suicide. One person throwing away food while another one starves- it just doesn't make sense.

I started writing this a few days ago and I didn't quite know where to go with it so I put it off. Today I was trying again to find a direction other than the obvious being irony, so I looked up out of curiosity how many countries on this planet are at war in one way or another and now I am even more baffled.

We hear a lot about Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and the other high profile war zones, but smaller ones, like The Ivory Coast sort of get swallowed up and forgotten, at least by part time payers of attention like me. However according to Wikipedia, in this century alone, 6 major wars have been started and 11 other conflicts. (major wars are those resulting in 10,000 + deaths per year and other conflicts are less than 10,000 deaths per year)

So I sit here still scratching my head wondering where my point is, and all I can think is, I'm pretty sure that the countries that have been bombarded with natural disasters in recent years, had so many lives lost and the land left in utter chaos, would have preferred not to have had such suffering. Then I am forced to wonder why the countries that bring it upon themselves to kill and leave their land in chaos can't realize how lucky they really are to not be burdened with nature being so destructive and subsequently figure out a way to end their conflict.

I guess what it really boils down to is I am just too simple minded to understand these things, and maybe I am better off staying that way.

I've Run Out Of Words

What's left when we run out of words like appalling, mind boggling, deplorable, despicable, unconscionable, unethical and immoral? That's a question I have been asking myself most of this afternoon after I received some very unsettling news.

My daughter-in-law, Casey, her mother has a friend who early last winter (2010) was diagnosed with a late stage cancer. I don't know the details other than it's a tumor on his spine. Since his diagnoses, Casey's mother has been this mans Florence Nightingale. She has gone way out of her way to take care of him, transporting him to all of his appointments, never leaving his side and being the kind of friend that everyone would want to have in his situation.

Again, I don't know many details of this mans cancer. I have met him twice, once at Christmas when he appeared frail, and again at Audrey's birthday party when he appeared much worse. I do know that in the six weeks or so between those meetings he had undergone chemotherapy. I also know that he has been preparing for surgery to try to remove the tumor, and also, apparently, there is a narrow window of opportunity for this surgery after the chemotherapy, but what I didn't know until today is that his surgery has been postponed- twice.

I didn't know about the first scheduled (and subsequently postponed) surgery, but I did know that this Tuesday (tomorrow) he was due to have the tumor removed, then Casey told me this afternoon that the surgery had been postponed. The more Casey told me about the ordeal of his surgery, the more outraged I became. Here is a person who is essentially a stranger to me yet I was coming to realize the severity of the emotional roller coaster he is on, and that his circumstances could happen to anyone. Here is the story:

It seems that this man has essentially made all of his final arrangements fearing he would not survive this surgery. His family from out of state had come to Maine to be at his side, Caseys mom had taken several days off of work and he spent all day today at the hospital having last minute tests and preregistering and whatever else he needed to do pre surgery tomorrow. He has been worried and scared for weeks and trying his best to have the strength just to go on with life until his surgery, however, when he got home from the tests etc today, he had a message stating that the doctor who was performing the surgery was not going to be able to make it. No explaination was given, just some voice saying that they would schedule him an appointment, in two weeks, to schedule another surgey. Now, if that is not bad enough, this is the second time this has happened and the narrow window of time between the chemo and the surgery is running out.

I think anyone in this situation would be outraged, if they had the strength to be. I don't think this man does. Luckily he does has Casey's mom to fight for him but since she is not family and does not have power of attorney etc she is limited as to what she can do.

If all of this isn't bad enough, the story went on to include that this man has never been comfortable with his doctor. He asked to see someone else and for what ever reason he wasn't able to. When the first surgery was postponed he asked that another surgeon perform it and he was told that "doctors don't clean up other doctors messes". I wonder, where, is that statement in their code of ethics? Unbelievable.

I realize that I have only heard what Casey has told me, and I realize that Casey has only heard what her mom has told her, and maybe there is a lot more to the story but regardless, the bottom line is that a man is dying, his window is expiring, and he appears to have a very callous doctor who is doing more harm than good. I know that Caseys mom will do all she can to help. I know that he is trying to find alternatives, resources and advocates to help him with with his issues and urgency. What I don't know is why in the world in the greatest country on Earth, something like this even happens. Plus, if it happens to someone in my very small circle of acquaintances I shudder to think of the actual magnitude of the problem. It's scary.

I know what I need to do...but...

Warning: this is long and not well written- I can't face working on it anymore but I started it, and I needed to finish it.

I can't. I just can't.

Back in 2007 the love of my life wandered back in and to say the least I was grateful. We had known each other for 23 years but we were never single at the same time- not until 2007 when he called me out of the blue.

There are no words that can express the emotions I went through over the next few months, I went from literally being on top of the world to the depths of hell and things will never be the same for me.

Rick and I went back a long long way. We met when I moved to Texas in 1984. I was a young dispatcher, he was a young policeman. He had just gotten married, I got married shortly there after- in the years that followed we wished we had met each other sooner. Rick and I didn't have an affair. It was more than that. It was a deep emotionally rooted connection and taboo friendship filled with what if's and fantasies. Eventually we began to meet on the sly, we loved each other, we talked for hours and hours on the phone, but we never once touched each other. That was a boundary we just never felt we needed to cross, our relationship and commitments to our families meant more than that.

It was right before Haley and Casey's wedding when he called and as soon as I heard his voice I was immediately back in love with him. I felt as though the time lords had picked that moment because anything sooner wouldn't have given me the independence that I was about to have. We spent many, many hours on the phone reminiscing about the past, dreaming about the future, grateful for the present.

Once the wedding was over, I worked non stop overtime to be able to fly to Austin to see him. It had been 8 years since I had seen him last and I still recognized him, from even a distance just from the way he walked. We were for once, allowed to be in love. My days in Austin were wonderful. We spent most of our time at his house, talking, catching up- being as though this was the first time we had ever known each other as single people, and I had never been where he lived before, and I wasn't in Austin to be entertained, I just wanted to be with him. Being there was a little weird, but comfortable too, at long last I was content, just to be.

I did want to see Jenny while I was in Texas though, so we made plans to meet her and Xavier at the Riverwalk in San Antonio to eat and hang out. Rick was short on cash so I gave him $100 so he could pay and not feel like a yutz. I didn't think anything about it. No big deal.

I was only with Rick for about 3 days yet the thought of leaving was overwhelmingly sad. I remembering sitting across from him staring at him, and telling him I was trying to memorize everything about him because the thought of leaving and not being with him anymore was just killing me. Finally, I suggested that I go home long enough to work some more OT and then come back in a month or so. We mutually agreed, and that's exactly what I did. I think during that time in the spring of 2007, was the first in my life that I have ever been accused of glowing.

Rick and I talked on the phone daily and after a few weeks, we were talking about him moving to Maine to be with me. I had no desire to move back to Texas permanently, plus I had a house and he didn't, so it seemed the best option and he was all for it. Additionally, he is retired and makes a good sum of money, so it didn't really matter where he lived. I felt as though all of my years of various suffering and hell were about to be repaid with a wonderful future and he sid he felt the same way.

One day during our phone call he said that he was a bit embarrassed for me to come back to Texas because he was broke and he needed to register his car and get new tires for it. He said after he did that he would have no money to spend on me during my visit. I assured him that I didn't need to be entertained, that I was content just to be there, but he said he still felt bad about it. Well, I had already bought the plane ticket, plus, I would be devastated not to return to Austin so he said if I would loan him $600, he could get his car taken care of and then pay me back later in the month. I didn't even hesitate, I sent him a check on May 4th, he cashed it on May 7th.

By the end of May I was back in Austin. I think I was there for 4 days. We spent three of those days shopping for wedding rings and making plans to get married. I did not have one single second thought about that except that he seemed like he was a little too preoccupied by his ex wife sometimes- I asked him about it though and he assured me he wanted nothing to do with her, so I let it go.. and while it was a big step to be planning to get married, it wasn't like he was a stranger, or even a new relationship, he was someone I had known for years and had quietly been waiting for, for most of my life. It was very exciting!

Since we were planning on this life commitment, I thought I should at least meet his grown son while I was in Texas. The Spurs happened to be having a play off game in San Antonio and we decided that would be a fun thing for all of us to do, plus I wanted to see Jenny and Xavier again too so we all agreed to go. The tickets cost me over $350, and I gave Rick another $100 in cash so he wouldn't feel like a yutz and he could buy us dinner afterward.

In any other situation I would never have been so free with my money. After all it took a lot of overtime to earn it, but I trusted him completely and the fact that he had half of his apartment packed by the time I had returned back to Austin was a good indication that he really was planning to move to Maine to be with me. We talked about that extensively. We knew how hard the adjustment would be for everyone, but we were so happy to have the chance to be together that we were willing to do whatever it took.

I left Austin in late May, and for the first time I didn't cry when I got on the plane. I left another check for $600 in his car so he could pick up our rings that we had ordered from James Avery. The plan was that in a month I would return back to Texas and we would drive to Maine together with his stuff, so I knew I wasn't saying good bye for very long! The plans we had made were going to make life fantastic! Plus, I was going to be very busy in between these trips. I had taken pictures of all of his furniture and things he planned to bring to Maine just so I could start making room for them when I got home! The time was going to fly.

Once home, a day or two went by when he didn't call. I wasn't even concerned with that- I trusted him unconditionally and figured he was just as busy as I was. But in a matter of days the phone calls became fewer, shorter, and less enthusiastic. I asked him over and over again what was wrong. All he would say is that he was having second thoughts about moving and as much as I didn't like to hear that, I did understand it. It was a big, big step. I told him we could slow down- we could just go back and forth for visits, I encouraged him to come to Maine to visit before making the commitment but nothing seemed to console him. We went emotionally back and forth and had ups and downs over the next few weeks. When it came time for me to make a third trip to Texas it was obvious that he did not want me to. I was completely devastated.

I couldn't understand anything anymore. It was all I could do to make it to work everyday, I was beyond being able to even function. I had no idea how things had managed to change so rapidly and he wasn't telling me anything. One day I saw he was on line, I emailed him and then started chatting with him but he was not writing back. Then I got a chat message "I just got another one, I have to get moved FAST" I questioned what that meant and demanded he answer me. He made up some idiotic explanation, but I knew what it meant. I knew the "I just got another one" was referring to the email I had sent and the "I have to get moved FAST" meant he was in fact moving from his apartment, but it was not to come to Maine - or to be with me at all. The chat message he had sent me was a mistake, it was intended for... his ex wife. Then he changed his messenger avatar to a picture of him and her.

A part of my soul withered up and died that day. I realized, at least deep on the inside, that for some reason all of this had been a game to him. Just a game. I wrote a lot of poetry about it. I made myself a written plan of how to survive it, and I put a stop payment on the last check I had given him. Within a week or so I wrote him a letter asking for the repayment of the original $600 I had sent him. I mailed a copy of the canceled check with it. It was returned to me as "moved left no address". It was then that I decided that all of the other things I had done financially, buying plane tickets and all of the other expenses associated with traveling, the yutz money I had given him- all of that was my own choice, but the $600 he had asked me for and said would be paid back, was a mutual agreement. I told myself I would not rest until I had that money back.

I have done somethings that I am not proud of in the attempts to get that money back, including writing this blog. But here it is going on 4 years later and I still don't have it. And it's not like Rick and I have not talked during the last 4 years! Every few months he will call and tell me how much of a mistake he made by going back to his ex wife,(it only lasted a couple of months) how he has always loved me, how he will make things right between us. Each time he calls or emails he asks if he can come and live with me and at first I told him that we had way too many issues to work out before an arrangement like that could be made, but in time, I just decided to play along with him- after-all, it's easy to make a promise that you know you will never have to keep.

However, all along, in the back of my head, all I wanted was that $600 back and I would stop at nothing to get it..if it meant playing the game, then so be it. By December of 2010 we were talking on line quite often and on the phone sometimes. It honestly still hurt me to hear his voice, to face what could have been- mostly it hurt me that all of my fantasies of him that amounted to more than half of my life were all proven to be a lie, but by January he agreed to pay back the $600. The next day he changed it to February. Actually, I didn't care, I just wanted it in writing. (Prior to that he had claimed he had no recollection of ever having borrowed the money, or that he never cashed the check. He still had the ring check I had put a stop payment on and used that as evidence to back his story that he had never cashed it. He was unwilling to admit that there were 2 different checks)

By the end of January, we were on the outs again, be it karma or something subliminal I sent him by accident a message intended for someone else saying that he had finally agreed to pay back the money. We have not spoken since then except for a chat message that was beyond comprehension and ended with him writing BRB on January 27. Needless to say, it is mid March and I still don't have the money and I am getting ruthless.

In my life, I have lost a lot of loves. Some I never think of, some I still mourn, but Rick is the only one I can say I truly hate. I hate what we became, I hate what my memory of him became and I hate myself for what I became because of him. It's not even about the money- the money is just the fuel of the flames, what feeds the hatred- I want to have no feelings for him whatsoever but I have it programmed into my entire being that I can never be free of him as long as he owes me that $600.

I am not trying to hold on to him- I am trying to rid myself of him and in my mind, him returning that money is the only way I will be free. I wonder to myself all of the time, was $600 really worth it to him to cause so much pain, to lie to me and steal from me and use me? Me? Someone he had known for more than two decades? More importantly, I wonder to myself if $600 is really worth it to me to continue to have to dwell on his betrayal? I know that answer, I just don't know how to move on.

23 Days, 13 hours ...

I have on the low ceiling that runs the length of my stairs, a chalk board. It's actually chalkboard paint and people leave messages there sometimes but mostly I use it for a countdown to our next Disney trip. It now reads 23 days,

With things being as they were, a brand new grand baby and me being unemployed, life and finances haven't allowed us to go since September of 2009 when we went for Halloween and let me say that we are all feeling way overdue. So it was sometime last summer that we decided to set our sights for April 2011, after we had our taxes back and to be at Disney World for Haley and Casey's 4th anniversary.

As it turned out, we had been able to accumulate enough points to use our Disney time share and procured reservations at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, a resort that we have not been too before. The countdown on the chalkboard had begun!

Now, unless you have traveled with me, read my blogs from a couple of years ago or sat next to me while I made plans, you have no idea how much effort I put into our Disney vacations. It may seem a bit overdone, but a Disney World vacation is not a fly by the seat of your pants type of event for me. Restaurant reservations fill up months in advance, and the park hours aren't always the same, Extra Magic Hours are a fringe benefit for staying on Disney property and need to be taken advantage of- all of that on top of picking the perfect plane reservations and making sure we have travel arrangements to get to the resort from the airport- well, someone has to do it.

I work on these details for months, and once everything is in line I print off little cheat cards for all of us attending so that we know where we are eating each day, and when, and at what park, and I make sure all of those times coordinate with the Extra Magic Hours which I of course highlight with the park hours... I also make sure everyone has a copy of our reservation information, our airline information and reservations, and phone numbers ... and I even print off copies of the menu's of the places we are eating so we can look them over on the plane! OK, the menu thing is just for fun but the other stuff is necessary information- the only thing not necessary seems to be making everyone else a copy because inevitably, every single day, someone asks, where are we eating? What time are we eating? When are the Extra Magic Hours? What park are we going to today? What time does the plane leave? Oh well, makes me feel needed!

Of course all of that planning and organization is just the beginning. I, for myself anyway, have to make sure I have enough money left for the $12 a day it costs to park at the airport... and the $10 a day for the kennel Sid will have to stay in.. but all of this is clearly labeled in my special Disney wallet in separate little compartments, with tabs that say things like: tips, misc, spending, gas....

Packing is something I also take very seriously. I am not a day before the vacation packer. I am a months before the vacation packer- when it comes to Disney, I unpack and repack to make sure I have absolutely everything I might need (though I admit, I have whittled down how many pairs of shoes I take now!) But I am the one that everyone is going to ask... did you bring any __________ and most likely I am able to retrieve it, be it nail clippers, AA batteries, bandaids... whatever, I am the one to have it.

So, as you can imagine, with only 23 days to go I am feeling the excitement and the fatigue of crossing the last minute things to do off of my list. It drives me crazy that I can't pack my cell phone charger till the last minute, or my camera, and to make it even worse, I ordered an anniversary present for the kids and it isn't here yet so I have to keep a spot open in my suitcase for when ever it gets here! (and if you dare wonder about things a toothbrush, shampoo, etc- I have travel sizes of that stuff- it has been packed for a over a month along with a can of coffee, coffee filters, sugar and creamer)

Maybe I do overdue it, maybe I do live up to my self description that I have to plan to be spontaneous, but I'll tell you what... we are never the ones standing in front of a restaurant waiting for hours because we don't have a reservation and when everyone else says "we aren't going to need an umbrella" luckily, I have brought several.

23 days, 12 hours now!