Tuesday, June 24, 2014

My brother passed away about 7 a.m. on Thursday morning, June 19, 2014.  The last few days have been sad ones, especially for my extended family.  My sister-in-law Jerrie has been a real rock for my brother who has been in ill health for several years.  She has loved him and taken care of him for quite a long time.  There are not enough words of praise to give her for that.  She and my brother Joe had been married for 53+ years, married as children at the age of 17 and been together through all the good times and bad times and in between.  They found strength in one another and in the three children they raised, and in the grandchildren and great grandchildren as they came along.  It was hard to watch them all have to go through the final goodbyes.  I can't imagine how tough that was for them.  As difficult as it was for me as his sister, I know it was many times over tough for all of them.  I pray for strength for my sister-in-law to get through the coming days but I know she will have many days that will be rough.

I'm afraid I contributed to her heartache without meaning to.  In using my phone to send several pictures of Joe's visitation to a cousin in Louisiana, I accidentally got one of them posted to FB instead of private message.  Unfortunately it was one of him in the casket.  Although I deleted it immedately upon learning about it, I certainly managed to alienate the family with that screw up!  They were hurt by it and naturally upset by it - I would have been, too.  I wouldn't have hurt them for the world, not any of them.  I care way too much for all of them.  I wish I could undo the damage.  All I know to do is ask forgiveness.

K and I got to the cemetery early (graveside service only).  We were standing outside the car so we were not burning gasoline running the a/c.  Someone in a car across from us got out of his car and asked if I was Dorthy.  He asked me if I knew who he was - but I didn't.  When he introduced himself I was shocked.  He was my boyfriend from way back when I was 13-15 years old!  He was older than me and decided to join the Navy so of course we went our separate ways.  In my mind I remember him, but I didn't remember him in person at all.  

Thought we were going to go out of town a couple of days to relieve pressure for a bit, but as it turns out, K made plans with his guy friends and I decided to stay around the house.  With losing both of my brothers in less than a year, I realize that time is pretty short.  Has made me think about things a lot - like why in the world save things for "some day"?  Such as the good rugs we keep rolled up in the front bedroom and put out only when company comes.  So I pulled out the large one and put it down in the den in the sofa/tv area.  Might as well use things up/wear things out.  No point in protecting them any more!  

Today's been nice - it has rained most of the afternoon...in fact, it has been flash flooding.  Our yard is singing in delight - what's left of it after the drought the past couple of years.  We've got to get out and seed or sod the yard...we barely have grass.  But lots of weeds!  Got to get after it.  Maybe I can work out some pain, depression, or whatever by working in the yard.  I've got to do shrub trimming as well - K doesn't do that...he doesn't do a good job of it.  

When I'm stressed or life is crushing in around me, I tend to handle it by either curling up in a ball inside, or withdrawing completely, or a combination of anxiety and activity.  When K woke me up on the 19th to let me know Joe had died, I was just numb.  I knew it was going to happen, and knew that he was ok, that the sadness to come was going to be for those of us left behind.  But all I wanted to do was cry.  I knew I couldn't go to his family because they had far too much to get through, and even though I'm his sister, I knew the right thing for me to do was to allow his family be together without me being around in the way.  I guess I went into the "anxiety and activity" mode, knew I had to keep myself occupied.  I had started stitching the binding on a table cover for my Singer 66 treadle machine at Needlework on Tuesday.  I spent the days after Joe died in my big rocker in the bedroom in front of the double window using the natural light to help me see where to put the blind hem stitching, and in my mind and heart went through the days and years of my childhood family.  And that's how my heart really said goodbye to my big brother.  I managed to get it finished and it is now on the machine.  I also managed to put together the crochet blocks of another table cover.  These blocks have been completed for 2 - 4 years.  It's now as finished as its ever going to be - with lots of mistakes in it - and its waiting to be washed and blocked.  I don't care that it has mistakes in it...those just represent many mistakes of life.  It's just going over a vintage sewing machine cabinet so it will be ok.  A pic of the rooster table cover is included here.  

I've also started uploading my digital pictures to Walgreens and having 4x6 prints made of the ones I want to keep.  I decided to get them all printed and into plastic sleeves in notebooks regardless of whether or not they are in chronological order.  I think its better to do it this way than to just let them be lost in space when I pass on.  Maybe someone will want them.  Who knows.  At least they'll be available.  I wish I had some current good ones of my kids and grandkids because I would like to display them.  I took down all the ones I had before because they were so out of date.  

With all the deep cleaning that's been done around here in the last month - and not quite finished - I decided when my former cleaning lady called to let her come out for a usual cleaning.  The house was not that bad - I had spent my time taking everything imaginable apart to clean "my" way.  I was quite shocked when she let me know after her girls had finished that it would be $145 since it had been so long since she had been there.  I let her know that wasn't going to happen since the house had not been bad when they came to clean.  I also let her know that it would be the last time I would use her...I'll be cleaning it myself from now on.  That's because when I took the house apart to clean I discovered SO much had not been cleaned while using the team.  Guess I'll save myself $200+ per month doing that.  I need the exercise anyway.  I do one room a day so it's not a big thing.  For instance, I took an entire day to clean the master bedroom - took the bed completely apart to clean, cleaned the bed as well as the floor and baseboards.  I did this heavy part while K was at the mission one day.  Here are pics of the bed part of the room!  (Got rid of plastic plants!)  I wrested that king size mattress and the foundation pieces by myself.  That's BJ testing it out to make sure all is ok.  I've been doing this type of cleaning all the way through the house.  Have more to go.  Getting rid of things, cleaning out.  Going to go through things every time I clean a room again and just keep on getting rid of stuff!  Of course there are some things that I will hold on to forever.  

So what else has been happening?  We got news that K is being awarded some sort of something or other by the SCV camp.  He's southerner by marriage so is an auxiliary member of the camp, and supposedly he is receiving the first-ever something or other awarded to an auxiliary member.  We'll find out at the meeting on Tuesday, July 1.  Hope I remember to take pictures.  

Speaking of organizations, I was elected Recording Secretary for the Julia Jackson chapter of the UDC.  Installation was held in May.  I'm including some funny pictures - K nor I are the best picture snappers!  I was asked to provide piano interlude during the military service award ceremony - K managed to get only one picture...and he took it while I was trying to get the music spread out before I began playing.  Oh well, in a hundred years it won't matter.  Just comical.  And then there's the pic of me as Recording Secretary with our newly installed President, Betty.  It was hat day for our May closing luncheon/military service awards ceremony/installation of new officers.  I had a better internal image of myself in that dang fascinator than what it appears here!  (lol)  The dress is my new one for the year.  It has the sleeves that have the slit opening down them in the center and my left bra strap kept falling down.  Plus it was purchased before the abdominal abscess so it was a bit big and hangy because of weight loss.  With my Grandma dress shoes I look like a throw-back to the early 1900's.  Betty was smarter than the rest of us - she wore pants!  The group picture is during installation.  

In addition to becoming an officer for our UDC organization, I have the honor of being the Historian for our Daughters of the War of 1812 chapter.  (Because my ancestors, on both sides, have been in this country since the 1600's, I'm eligible for just about any lineal organization around.  That and a dollar won't buy a cup of coffee any more but it does give me something to do and keeps me from going crazy...maybe.)   A couple of pics of that installation are included below.  Please note that the purple suit turned up once again!  It goes to lots of events.  First pic of us with installer Ruth, second without her.  We are holding up different spices because we are the spices of the chapter (lol).  Ruth handed a different one to each of us as our names were called, with a cute reference of our position to the spice.  I received cinnamon - and then forgot to bring it home with me, leaving it on the table in the club room.  

Haven't done anything exciting that I recall.  Life is full of crooks and turns and I seem to always be taking the wrong ones and hacking people off even when I don't mean to.  For that I am truly sorry.  Don't know anything to do but to pick my butt up and go on with life and whatever it's going to bring next.  

Much love to my children and grandchildren - you are my heart.  

Sunday, June 15, 2014...Father's Day

Not a single soul has had the decency to call and wish K a happy Father's Day.  I know how he feels; I know how badly it hurts, because no one wishes me happy Mother's Day.  These days are horrible.

Yesterday was Flag Day - sponsored by the Mary Isham Keith chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution.  All chapters within the district plus all the other heritage organizations participate.  K and I were there.  It was held at an outdoor pavilion of a veteran's park in a nearby small town.  As historian for one organization and a member of several organizations, I took pictures.  I'll share a few here.

Our young Navy cadets out of the unit at the Joint Service Base did an excellent job presenting the colors.  They range in age from 10 to 17.  

Dr. Judith Carrier, former head of TCJC/TCCC, is the current Regent of the Mary Isham Keith DAR chapter.  Since MIK was the hosting organization, we were pleased to have Judith as our "MC" for the event.  I was sitting behind Diane Dyess, Regent of our Six Flags Chapter of the DAR and it was either catch a profile picture or the back of her.

Our Daughters of the War of 1812 was well represented at this event.  The lady with the tiny baby fosters children while they are in the "in-between" cycle of adoption.  This tiny guest was absolutely adorable.  We are often blessed with little ones like this coming with her to meetings and events.)

Diane Dyess, Christean Jenkins, Pamela Rhoads, Peggy Jones, Dorthy Casten, Joann Durham

Both the Six Flags and the MIK chapters of DAR were represented at the event.  It was a great Saturday for such a ceremony -- not too hot, a good breeze.  I can't recall the names of everyone in this photo, except the lady in the red jacket is Anita Daniel, in the green is Diane Dyess, yours truly in the white jacket, Arlene Pricer next to me, and on the right end is Bettye Rogers.

I can name a few of the ladies in the MIK organization...That's Dr. Carrier on the far left, Linda Johnson next to her, Sonja Starnes stepping away from the group, Sally Allsup (Chaplain) in the white; Virginia Brown next to Sally, sweet little Paula Smith in the black jacket, Joann Durham dressed in red/white/blue with the hat, and again Bettye Rogers on the far right.

Betty Rogers was the speaker for the day.  She is retired military, and during the Vietnam war was in charge of a flight hospital (aircraft outfitted as a hospital) that flew into country to pick up the wounded and flew them out providing medical care.  She shared several stories with us about those days but unfortunately we could not hear much of what she had to say -- the microphone needed to be held very close to the face for amplification and as most of speakers do, she tended to move it away from her and turn her head.  I think we need to invest in one that pins to the shirt.

Our Sons of Confederate Veterans were also represented at the event.  Several of us are members of several lineage organizations, thanks to our ancestors who fought, bled and some died for this country.  Since this was mostly a DAR event, however, our SCV camps were low in number.  But here we are - yours truly and hubby K, along with Diane and Jack - members of the Griffin 2235 camp of the SCV.  (I didn't wear any of my ribbons that day...just my flag pin.)

Instead of going to lunch with the rest of the attendees, we elected to head to Cleburne via the new tollway with intention to eat lunch there.  The tollway dumped us out in an area of Cleburne where we did not recognize anything.  We continued on what we thought would take us into the actual town but still could not get our bearings so pulled off to check map on phone.  That's when I noticed I had a message from my niece - about my brother Joe.  Joe has many medical issues, including diabetes, heart issues, frozen lungs, etc.  He has been ill a long time and this time has been hospitalized since Monday of this week.  There is not any more that can be done - he will be moved to hospice care.

This is so very hard.  Joe and wife Jerrie have been married since they were 17 years old - 53+ years.  He has been the rock of our entire family since he was a very young man.  It seems impossible that we are losing him.  Seems impossible that just yesterday we were kids playing at the creek, riding bicycles, begging mother to let us play in the rain, etc.  And now we are the old generation - the grandparents/great grandparents.  Time has come and gone.  I hope to go see him tomorrow - he can now have visitors.  They wouldn't allow it before now.  He can also eat and drink whatever he wants - no more restrictions.  So today his daughter took him a burger from Sonic and a malt.  He and I are the last of "our" family, but he and wife have 3 adult children, 5 grandchildren plus several step/foster grandchildren, and several great grandchildren.  Saying goodbye is totally tough; God give us strength.

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Note:  I lost two friends over the past 3 weeks.  Friday was the service for friend Jan.  Over the past year I've lost several other friends.  Perhaps it is morbid, maybe it's just realization, but during that service on Friday as I looked at the casket at the front of the chapel, it came to me that it won't be long before it is my turn to get into the box and have the lid closed for the rest of eternity.  I find it terrifying.

Saturday Night, June 14, 2014

Haven't posted in a long time - although I've thought about it.  Because life has just seemed so "real"...one thing after another!

Because the holidays of November and December are so painful (I long for my children and grandchildren and cry my way through the holidays), I look forward to January as a healing month.  Unfortunately that was not the way it happened this year!  Having spent way too much $$ for Christmas, January was also to be "catch up time/take a breather" month.  We were knocked off our terre firma a bit much when K's disability check was not deposited in our account on the 15th.  A call to our local SS office revealed that he had been terminated as disabled ... they claimed he had been working for the past year earning over $1800 per month!

We made a trip to the local SS office, sat for 2 hours waiting our turn to speak to someone, and then received hateful treatment by the representative.  She claimed he had been working, that he had earned all this money, that they had sent letters to us in November telling us he would be cut off, etc., etc.  They handed us print outs of the letters we never received.  We asked for reconsideration because he certainly had not earned that kind of money -- and who would know better than the SS office?  They have records of his earnings!  I had all of his income records with me, along with our bank account information where his deposits are made.  They made copies of his W-2's but didn't want to see anything else.  In addition, we completed a form seeking appeal.  We left totally shocked at the way we had been treated, as well as the misinformation they were giving us.

We waited a couple of weeks, never heard from them, and began calling from time to time.  Each time we were assured it was being handled.  It wasn't.  A phone representative finally send our call to a main SS center in Kansas City.  I received a telephone call on Thursday of that week from a representative there who told me she had no idea why the FW office had done this to K, because her records showed he had worked two weeks out of the year full time, and the rest of the time intermittent part-time work (stadium).  She and I went over the records she had vs what I had and they were the same.  She advised that she had already been to her supervisor as soon as she saw the mess, and she had been instructed to expedite reinstatement.  Needless to say, expediting with the government takes a while.  It was March before we learned that K's disability had been reinstated, but that it would take 30 days or more before he would receive current and back pay funds.  Thankfully it finally came in April.

In late January I accompanied Betty Abdo, President of our chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, to Salado for the State forum.  That was the weekend of the 24th and 25th of January, and we drove there on icy roads but fortunately did not have an accident.  A business meeting, of course, and somehow I found myself on a State committee tasked with converting printable forms to online fillable forms.  That task has been ongoing since January but thankfully has now been declared completed and the forms have been provided to the masses for their use and discontent.

In February I transferred from the Mary Isham Keith chapter of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution to the Six Flags Chapter.  MIK is a very large chapter, and therefore it is very hard to become involved in the workings of the chapter.  Transfer permitted me to become involved - probably more so than I need to be!  But it is more fun to be involved.  As of right now I am co-chair of the Constitution Day event which will occur in September - a big deal for the DAR, and Six Flags is the host for that event for our District this year.  I attended the planning meeting this past week.  In addition, I find myself in charge of producing the Yearbook for the chapter because the Regent's computer crashed, restoration could not be done (she thought she had it backed up, but alas, no), so everything is being recreated.  So, I'm working on the yearbook.  I had it about completed when I was told that it needs to be done in Publisher - a software I don't have, and a program I know ZERO about.  So I guess somehow I'll be coming up with that program and learning how it works.

On February 10 I had vascular surgery on my left leg...it was not done in the hospital but in the doc's office.  There was a screen set up over my chest across the table so I would not be able to see what was being done.  So I'm on this table, sans undies, with folks on the other side of the screen working on me.  The doc advises me that he is going to begin at the ankle and be injecting 20 numbing shots up the inside of my leg and into the groin area.  NOT a pleasant experience!  After that he advised he was going to start at the ankle with an incision and insert whatever (no idea what it looks like or is or what all entails because I could see nothing) to work upward through the large vein of the leg.  All of this was done because the valves in this vein of this leg were worn out and no longer pushed fluids back up out of the foot/lower leg.

After surgery I was told that I could not sit down, had to walk/stand for 20 minutes, could not sit at home, had to be up on my legs.  We did the walking, went to the car, stopped for food, and I spent the rest of the afternoon evening walking through the house, standing beside the sofa doing dance steps, and finally going to bed for the night.  That's when the discomfort/pain, moaning/screaming began.  I continued the walking/moving the following day and throughout the weekend and then returned for ultra sound check on Monday.  I was told the leg would be painful for an extended time, that it would take a while to recover, but I could stop getting up during every commercial.  The doc wanted to go ahead and schedule surgery for the right leg -- I smiled and left...no way.

I never got better...just started going down hill healthwise...felt sick, weak, cold, chilled, couldn't get over it.  I continued to try to move forward - even went on a quilting retreat but was just not well.  In March I celebrated my 66th birthday (no cards, no phone calls, no visits from those who matter the most to me).  My health continued to go down, and I found myself more and more curled into a ball covered with a blanket unable to go about my business.  During the night of Thursday, March 13, when I turned over it felt as though I had pulled something in the groin area of my right side - the area where my transplanted kidney resides.  I didn't think too much about it except the pain continued to get worse through Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  And my abdomen was as big as a basketball and hard.  On Monday I called my transplant doc and went for an ultrasound of the area.  I knew I had an appointment with the doc on Wednesday, so was trying to hold out 'til then instead of spending $$ going to the ER.  But I was no longer able to endure the pain, was doubled over, went to bed, tried to get comfortable, but just couldn't.  K gave me two choices - he could drive me to the ER or he could call an ambulance.  I let him drive me.

The ER staff started me on morphine and dilauded for pain...nothing touched it.  The on-call transplant doc was able to look at the ultrasound results made earlier on Monday and yes, there was fluid and infection in the area.  I was admitted to the hospital but by this time I was pretty much out of it.  I was so sick, I didn't see any way I would make it out of that place.  I was out of it, and as of today I don't remember the first 4-5 days of that hospital stay.  I nearly died so they say.  Tests were apparently done on Tuesday...lots of blood work, lots of antibiotics started, lots of fluid.  Dr. F. had to go out of town on Wednesday but left instructions for a procedure to be done to drain the site so cultures could be grown.  None of that happened while he was gone, just pain meds.  He was not a happy camper when he returned on Thursday.  It didn't take long for me to be sent for a couple of things...first, a CT with contrast - a no no for transplant kidney patients.  There was no choice.  Usually the transplanted kidney is dies after that.  Then I was sent for another procedure - first a big syringe with a big long needle inserted to draw off fluid to see what it was -- massive infection.  Sent to lab for culture growth.  Then they knocked me out and an incision was made to drain the area and insert a drain that could be attended to by the nursing staff.  Tests indicated the transplanted kidney was affected.

I was placed under the care of an infectious disease doc (Youree), and cultures indicated my bad luck -- an intestinal bacteria (fecal) had somehow entered my system and went to the weakest point...the transplanted kidney and abdominal cavity.  That info allowed determination of correct antibiotic to use to combat the infection.  I was placed on a 42 day regimen of IV antibiotics through a PICC line placed in my right arm across to the heart area.  Once I finally began to improve (a few days), I was discharged home to continue the IV antibiotics, reporting to Youree's infusion clinic every 7 days.

Cause of the infection?  Most likely occurred as a result of the vascular surgery done in February.  Who knows for sure.

I was doing fine on the antibiotics...had reached the final week of infusions.  The last day was to be Thursday, May 1.  On Monday, April 28, K got Subway sandwiches for us for lunch.  I ate about 1:30 or so, and about 5:30 became violently ill...nausea, vomiting, pain in the abdominal area, cramps, the whole shabang.  Again, K took me to ER, I kept throwing up.  I was admitted to the hospital, tests were run, and thankfully it was not a return of the original infection...instead it was food poisoning.  But because of my already weak condition, I had to stay in the hospital that week.  The antibiotics were increased, but I was declared finished with the IV meds on Thursday and the PICC line removed.  I was discharged home late Thursday.

Did I lose weight with the ordeal?  Yes...approximately 20 lbs.  Was it worth it?  Not hardly.

I'll blog about other spring events in another post.  It's been a busy/frustrating year thus far.  And it is going to be a sad one as well.