Venting on Health Care and Negative People

Coming from a family that made it against all odds, I have no patience with anyone who says "I can't, it won't work, this cannot be done," or one who just gives up without trying. My husband was a glass-half-full kind of man. I learned from him and my brothers that being positive and believing I could almost always meant I did conquer the challenges before me.

On more than one occasion lately, as we scoured stores, online businesses, and interviewed every caregiver we encountered, for the best way to help my ailing older sister, I have become frustrated with the negativism we faced.

Perhaps because my sister is an octogenarian, nurses or caregivers, who have dealt with other people her age, want to write her off. That is the only way I can explain their actions. The most recent example came about when my younger sister, Gay, found a brochure at Mobility Express for this piece of equipment that she and I thought was the answer to transferring my sister with the broken hip. When we approached a couple of certified nurse assistants to help us try it out, all I heard was, "That won't work. She can't do that. It ain't gonna work, I tell you."

                    

  A New Place, A New Attitude

I am happy to say that, in a new facility where the staff learned to use the stand-sit transporter, they love it and it makes moving my sister a totally different experience. It is much easier than having her try to slide on a board to transfer from one place to another and safer than having one staff person try to lift her and another move a seat under her. 

                             

The staff at Sunrise Assisted Living did not take the negative attitude of the former CNAs, but learned immediately how to make the new equipment work for the patient.

As I said, I came from a family that didn't except no for an answer until they had exhausted all possibilities. That is how they grew a small company into a top international one. That is why we didn't accept the medical opinion that our mother would be "like a vegetable" for the rest of her life. That is why we took her home, cared for her and she recovered from a ruptured brain aneurysm; she lived happily for ten more years.

Perhaps managers and directors of senior housing could take a more positive view in their training of staff. That might turn around their hopeless outlook for patients and families who only want the best care possible in exchange for the extremely high costs paid to assisted living and nursing homes.

Without a positive attitude June could become discouraged with her health issues but she continues to smile, keeps her sense of humor and concern for her loved ones.

Cats and Dogs Don't Have to Fight

Tiger, the resident cat and my boss, has become quite comfortable with her cousins, Smokie and Sunny.

Smokie, the youngest of this clan, tried to get Tiger to play with her for the longest time, but now she just sniffs Tiger when they meet and then ignores her. Who said dogs and cats can't get along?

Sunny, a rescued three year old, could have been a real thorn in Tiger's side, but she chose to work on getting all the attention offered by the humans in the group. And who could resist that face?

Rocky loved Tiger and gave her big sloppy kisses. She adored him and mourned for him when he died.

One wonders why some dogs and cats don't get along. They are like those humans who become violent with total strangers, shoot into cars of people they don't know, pick a fight because of the color of another's skin, or hair or because he looked a certain way. I think it all has to do with how they are raised. 

I have never had a pet that was vicious or would bite, and I've had big dogs, little dogs and several cats. My dogs and cats loved each other. Why was that? What caused them to change their innate nature?

Maybe it was because we expected more from them, we loved them and did not show violence toward them. We never hit our dogs or cats, and treated them better than some little children I've seen in the grocery store who were slapped or yelled at or yanked up by one arm and swatted on the bottom while the parent screamed dirty words at them. How can a child be expected to learn non-violence when all he sees at home is anger and rage?

A Fall Writers' Retreat in the NC mountains

Have you heard of the Duke University Writers Workshop? The name is changed but the excellent writing instruction has not.

Table Rock Writers Workshop will be held September 17-21 at my favorite retreat, Wildacres, just off the parkway near Little Switzerland, NC. I am delighted that I will be going this year.

View from the large patio between lodges

They have some openings left, so visit their website, www.tablerockwriters.com

Shooting in Aurora, Colorado

I can’t comprehend why people in today’s world embrace violence in movies, on TV and in their everyday lives. Modern technology has brought violence into our homes. Children, young impressionable minds, see thousands of violent events before they are grown up. I am no expert on psychology, but it has to have an influence on him or her, and the men who kill randomly as this man, Holmes, did in the theater. And why can anyone buy, legally, assault guns? Who needs them? No one buys the type of guns this man did unless he has violence in mind.

I grew up on a farm and we had only one gun in our house. My father kept a shotgun or a rifle in a closet in his bedroom, and it was seldom seen by any of us. The only time I remember seeing it in his hands was to protect his home from an intruder. I never saw him shoot it. We had no telephone service on the farm at that time, so he had no way to call for help.

My husband knew how to shoot a gun. He had been in the Army. He liked to keep a handgun in his car because he traveled several days a week and felt it was a kind of insurance if he ever needed it. But when his mother was victim of a robbery in her home, he changed. His 84 year-old mother died shortly after the home invasion, and we believe the attack hastened her death.  

At first I didn’t realize it, but he began collecting hand guns. After he died, I found he had four guns. One was a collector’s item and had never been fired. Strange that a gentle man like Barry kept firearms which he never used. 

He didn’t hunt. When he was a teen he shot a deer with a bow and arrow. That experience haunted him and he never forgot it. The deer didn’t fall immediately, but ran until it bled to death. He followed. When he saw the actual violence of what he had done, he never wanted to hunt again.

I believe we should have the right to own a firearm, but not assault rifles or anything that resembles guns used in the military. This man bought four guns legally that the sellers must have known were not for his protection or for hunting wild game. And where did he find all the bulletproof gear he wore? Someone should have been suspicious of that.

I wish these killers could be studied, and we could understand what makes them do what they do. Perhaps this man is mentally disturbed, but why did he turn to violence? Did he harbor some deep anger that he had never expressed? Why kill innocent people? He is evidently intelligent from what we hear, but did his parents have a clue, did his associates have an inkling of what he might do? Did he become so caught up in a movie character that he actually thought he was “The Joker?”

Many families are suffering tonight because of this one young man who has the innocent face of the boy next door. Thankfully we have more caring and feeling people who are not violent or filled with anger, and they have poured out their compassion for all those who hurt and will never completely recover from those few minutes in that theater. God, bless them.

Spiders are prolific this year. We put out some July 4th decorations on the deck. Today when I started to put them away, I was shocked to see hordes of granddaddy long legs scrambling from under the ribbon. In just a few days, the red, white and blue ribbons had become infested. Spider webs wrap my plants every night. I don't spray insecticides because they are more dangerous for me than the spiders, I believe. That is why I was glad to find this article in the Augusta Chronicle. http://chronicle.augusta.com/life/home/2012-07-13/ask-bugman-know-you-spray

Now I can safely deal with spiders without worry of getting sick.

I have been wearing a boot, not a pretty boot, for the past three weeks on my left foot. I awoke one morning to find my foot swollen and painful. I couldn't imagine what was wrong. I soaked it and the swelling subsided a little. But I went to a podiatrist and after an ex-ray he saw a fracture in a metatarsol bone. To keep my foot stable the doctor had me wear something that looks like part of a space suit. For the first few days, I tripped on the boot itself, and almost fell several times. Now which is worse, I asked myself, a fractured foot or a broken hip? After three days I could clump around the house without losing my balance. But I have come close to hitting the floor more than once. Tomorrow I see the foot doc again. I hope he will set me free so I can walk without pulling my back out with each step. We have a big, big weekend here in Hayesville. The Festival on the Square, sponsored by the Clay County Historical and Arts Association, will begin Friday night with a street dance. (Can't dance with a space boot on my foot) On Saturday and Sunday our Netwest writing group will have a booth where writers will be signing books and meeting people, promoting our group and I hope to tell some folks about Writers Circle. If you are in the area or can come for a weekend of fun, drop by and say hello. Hopefully I won't be wearing a boot.

Patriotic Anniversary

Barry and I met on the fourth of July. That was a turning point in my life. 

First Christmas in our Mountain Home. We were so happy.

I teach my students to write down the turning points of their lives as a way to organize their memoirs. Meeting Barry was a large turning point in my life. I had become disenchanted with dating, with men, and wanted nothing to do with their kind. I fell in love with a beautiful young mare my brother had bought for the farm. She kept me busy and I could depend on her. I told myself I could teach and ride horseback and never miss dating.

I had graduated from college and come home like the good little girl I was expected to be. The men I dated expected me to be something I was not. But I agreed to go on a blind date with a young man, Barry Beall, who would not take no for an answer. 

He arrived in a maroon Chevy II convertible, climbed out of his car and walked toward me where I stood watching my older brothers play horse shoes in our yard. I was not impressed with my date's looks -- tall, skinny with a crew cut. He wore the worst looking knit swim shorts I'd ever seen. 

My first impression changed completely by the time we had taken a boat ride and spent time talking, and watching the fireworks that night. We fell in love on July 4th. We married the following year on Flag Day, June 14. 

He grew more handsome as he aged.

Today at our table our old friends gathered and we remembered Barry. I know he was with us. We couldn't see him but I felt his presence and his love.

We were The Six

Rebecca Completed El Camino, an inspiring experience

My former student and good friend, Rebecca, has finished walking El Camino de Santiago, a 500 mile pilgrimage over mountains in Spain. You might have seen the movie on this subject with Martin Sheen and his son.

Rebecca posted on her own blog and on another website while making this trek. She has inspired people all over the world to give themselves the opportunity to take this journey, an athletic challenge and a spiritual experience.

Rebecca honored me in the following post on her blog. 

http://renaissancerebecca.wordpress.com/2012/06/09/the-things-i-never-dreamed-of/

Two More Writing Classes

My class at Tri-County College is a delight for me. Each of the students has a different but exciting story to tell. 

Loretta has never lived out of this state or this area, but she writes with understanding and knowledge of her place and her people.

Ellen grew up in Montana. Her stories hold our attention throughout her reading. Partly because we have not experienced living on a ranch or hearing wildcats on the roof at night, but she also knows how to keep tension in her story.

Dick has lived in many places. His stories about his life and the lives of his ancestors will one day enthrall his grandchildren. Whether boys turn over the outhouse or paint graffiti, boys will be mischievous if they can get away with it. Dick wrote about that teacher we all relate to -- the one that just doesn't understand.

Paula writes for a newspaper, but she can write more than the facts when telling stories about her life growing up on a farm in south Georgia. Barb, who grew up in the big city, understands that details enliven and inform the reader. Her stories take us back to more than half a century ago, when mores and values were quite different from today.

We only have two more classes in this course. Today one of the students said she wouldn't let anyone read her writing until she began taking my classes. Well, that made my day. To make a difference in the life of one who had not yet recognized she had writing in her blood -- well, what could be better?

Have you influenced the life of another? How? How did it make you feel?