When Friends Show their Love

Just when I feel so down I could cry, I realize that I have dear friends who are supportive and generous. I mean real friends, not just friends on Facebook.

As my readers know, I have been dealing with chronic pain for the past year, and I spend much of my time these days focusing on how to rid myself of the pain, how to cure this ongoing issue. Physical therapy, chiropractic care, orthopedic massage, PRP injections and warm water exercises. At times I am not able to reach down and put on my shoes without excruciating pain. I get frustrated and angry that I can't easily do what I've always done for myself.

My two best friends, Mary Mike and Estelle, are always there for me. They listen when I need to vent and do their best to help me when I need something. Mike even offered to let me come and stay at her house where she could take care of me. Wow! And she has enough on her plate already.

Estelle Rice and Mary Mike Keller

Mike has dropped what she was doing to drive twenty-five miles to pick me up and take me home when I became ill and could not drive. I used to think only my sister would do that for me. 

Driving has been difficult for me, but not so much now. When I left to go to south Georgia a few months ago, Mike drove me half way to Atlanta where my sister, Gay, picked me up. Gay drove all the way through Atlanta like a champ. On Sunday, Gay drove us back through Atlanta but I suggested we called Mary Mike again. My friend, who had just got out of the bath and was in her pajamas, did not hesitate.

"Sure. I will get dressed and come meet you." 

Gay was exhausted. I knew she needed to get home. It had been a long hard week. I was happy she could go home to her husband. I was grateful that Mike could and would come and get me.

It is hard to have to ask others to sacrifice their time and energy for me.  I have always been a nurturer. I became a caregiver in January 1975 when Mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage. That was when our roles reversed and I became the mother. For ten years I was on call 24/7. I would not have had it any other way. Caregivers usually feel the same.

I consider myself an independent woman who has never quit even when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in the early nineties. Some days I suffered with fatigue so intense I wanted to lie down on the floor and sleep. If there had been a sofa in my office, I would definitely have gone to sleep. However,I learned what I must do to keep going and doing. I might have been out of commission for a few days, but I bounced back and kept on "ticking."

When my husband had cancer, I stayed with him twenty-four hours a day for weeks while he was in the hospital. But I had the support of my sweet sister, Gay. She has never refused me anything I needed, if she could give it. I don't know what I would have done without her at that time.

Me with my sweet little sister

I always knew I had family who would go out of their way and be there for me when I needed them. I did not expect to have friends do the same. 

Recently a new friend, author Carroll Taylor, drove me to Writers Night Out. She  carried my tote bag as I was learning to walk with a cane, trying not to trip myself. At the meeting, Alan Cone and his delightful wife, Mary, sat beside me. Before they left, he wrote their phone number on a sticky note and stuck it on my book. "If you need someone to give you a ride, call us. We will be happy to pick you up and take you where you need to go." 

How generous and caring, I thought. I did not expect that, but I do believe he was sincere although he and Mary live in another town.

I stopped by my mailbox and saw that someone had planted flowers around the post. 
I had no idea who did that. I asked a woman who works for me if she had done it. She is a caring person. But she said no.

"I think your neighbors planted the flowers," she said.

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"I saw one of them watering something at the mailbox."

Have you ever been caught at the grocery store with no umbrella or raincoat and the rain is coming down in sheets? I shop in a mobile cart now and was sitting near the door waiting for the rain to stop. A woman with two children in tow was busy loading her car and finding movies for the kids. When she finished, she asked me,"Do you need some help?"
I answered, "I asked a bag boy to go and bring my car up. It is right there, not far, but he hasn't come back. I'll just wait until the rain stops."
"I can get your car for you - if you trust me to do it."
"You can't do that. You'll get soaked," I said.
"No. Here, give me your keys." She put a plastic grocery bag over her hair and ran to my car. In minutes she had driven it right up to the door, opened the back and she helped me load my groceries. 
I thanked her profusely, of course. She said she lived here part time and had her grand-kids for the weekend. Her name is Linda and I am still in awe of her generosity. Every day, it seems, I run into kind and caring people.

I am not surprised. 
My neighbors, Alice and Marsha, have always been exceptionally kind to me. Alice cooks and brings me dishes that she says are healthy for a diabetic. I admit, some are not to my taste, but I love her so much for  thinking of me. Her brownies made with beans are very good. She also gave me the wonderful Taco Soup that is so versatile I have shared it with friends and family. It is one of my favorite healthy foods. 

I am fortunate to have these dear friends. They are an important part of my life. Their kindness comes from their hearts. They don't feel obligated. Some people just have that giving spirit. They were evidently taught by parents who believed in helping your neighbor.

Other friends who help me are John Buckley, Gene Vickers and Keith Norton, who will accept pay for handyman work, but barely enough to cover his cost to drive to my house.

Gay said to me recently, "You have a wonderful support group here." I agree. I would hate to leave them. I'm not sure I would ever find such kindness and caring again. 

You probably have friends like mine who go out of their way to be there for you. I know that some of you are that kind of friend to others.

Until next time, be generous with your friendship and your caring and may you receive the same in return.

The Hospice Doctor

My weekend was bitter-sweet. The husband of a very dear friend passed away Saturday morning. My heart aches for her and the grief she is and will be dealing with a long time. 

I had a house guest this weekend who is also a dear friend of mine. Her name is Ellen and she is a private person so I will not give her full name. We met when I heard her speak the same year I was diagnosed with diabetes. That was 2003. 

I helped her with a Diabetes support group she organized here and then wrote articles from interviews of local people who had diabetes. I heard their stories which opened my eyes and I hope the eyes of those who read about them. At that time Ellen said we had a large number of people in this county who had the disease, but had not been diagnosed. She went on to get the hospital and the health department involved with getting people diagnosed and classes set up to teach them what they need to know to take care of themselves as well as how to talk to their doctors. 

I admired her work and it was not that easy. It is always hard to create change, especially here in the mountains. 

She now works as a Hospice Doctor and I can tell she takes great comfort in being able to keep patients out of pain and letting them die peacefully. Hospice care can be the only place a sick person gets the pain relief they need. Hospitals will not usually give that kind of care. I write from experience. My husband suffered horribly while at Emory Hospital, but once he was in Hospice Care, I insisted he have whatever was needed to relieve his pain.

Ellen tells me the families are the biggest challenge she faces with each patient.

"My son, Mark is coming in from California tomorrow. We want my husband awake so he can talk to Mark." 
Why would you want your husband to suffer in excruciating pain so he can speak a few words to Mark? The concern seems to be more for the son who is coming than for the patient who is dying.

I remember the nice young doctor at the Hospice Center where Barry had been admitted and was finally free of pain saying, "We'll cut back on the morphine today."
"Why on earth would you do that?" I asked. 
"So you and he can talk to each other."
I told him we had talked to each other for 45 years and we had nothing left to say that was worth making him suffer any more pain.

I hope if I am ever in such a state that no one will cut back on the medicine just so I can mumble a few words or they hope I will recognize someone. The patient, at this point, has no interest in others. He is dealing with pain, his own body and mind failing, and has to force himself to meet others' expectations. 

Families that make a loved one suffer in such a way are selfish and have no idea what it is to suffer immense pain. 

Ellen, who was a doctor when I met her, said she chose to become a hospice doctor after seeing and hearing about the horror and pain Barry went through when we could find no help for his suffering with cancer. I admire her so much. She told me her major concern for the hospice patient is that he have no pain. She tells her nurses that first they make sure the patient is pain free. 

I hope all hospice doctors and nurses today make that their first priority. If we have to die, at least let us go peacefully. 

What Makes You Happy?

Recently as cold weather settled in on us in the mountains of North Carolina I was toasty and warm with the heat going full blast, wrapped in a soft throw and being so grateful that I don't have to live in a drafty house with only a fireplace to warm me.

My mother and father lived in that kind of a house when I was a small child. I doubt that it got down to six degrees in south Georgia, but it did get cold and the winter wind found its way through the walls, around windows, and under doors. Fortunately our new house built the next year was tight and adequately heated.

I appreciate my parents who struggled to make sure their children had a better life. They managed to survive the Great Depression, World War II, and still enjoy life. When I hear people today whine and cry about how bad this world is, I have to smile. Everything is relative, isn't it?

It seems to me that no one has enough. The wealthiest want more and more material things. They don't enjoy what they have because they live in fear that they will lose it. The poorest don't have enough to eat or a place to sleep. They want more, and would love having what the wealthy man owns. What he has would be enough, the poor man thinks. But if he had what the wealthy man has, would that be enough? Do we ever have enough? Can we be satisfied with what we have? Can we enjoy today and not be scared of what tomorrow will bring?

I am satisfied with what I have, and I am grateful for all I have. When the icy wind is blowing outside, and I am warm and comfortable with hot chocolate on the stove, gratitude for what I have sweeps over me like a soft breeze. I know there are homeless people who have no shelter from the cold. I know some live in cars or sleep in boxes on the street. I know children who ate from dumpsters because the family had no money to buy food.

I don't need more than compassionate and caring family, good friends, and my health to realize what is really important in life. In the past few days concerned friends called to make sure I have all I need to be safe and warm. My sister called to check on me. I could tell she was worried about me being alone after she saw frightening weather alerts on TV.

Soon I will go on vacation in Florida where some wonderful friends give me the use of a condo. But that is not all. One of them will fly north at her expense to meet me and drive me down to the condo. She will likely drive me back as she did last year. 

That kind of friendship is what is really important. Having people in my life who care about me -- people I love -- that is what matters. 

Recently I asked on my Facebook page: Do we learn more from joy or from pain? As for myself, I think I have learned in the past five years, through all the pain of loss, what I really need in life and what I must have to live a happy life. I don't believe we have to have the biggest house, the finest of furnishings, the nicest car, the most fashionable clothes or find celebrity and fame. I think what we must have to be happy is love, people who sincerely care about us, a safe place to call home, respect for ourselves and anticipation for our future endeavors. Doing for others also rates extremely high on the happiness chart. 

As a writer, I have one more thing that makes me happy -- the ability to express my thoughts, the opportunity to communicate with others. It is a need that must be met every day, in some way, large or small. So I post on my blogs, scribble in my journals, and fill long pages of yellow legal pads with various and sundry words that eventually are transcribed to files in my computer. At times those words find their way to a publication that reaches more people. That also makes me happy. 

What makes you happy?