There are many milestones in your life. A baby's first steps. Your first kiss. Saying I do.
Two weeks from Saturday, I board a plane for Hawaii to take my place in the ceremony as the Mother Of The Groom. My son will experience a milestone in his life on December 17, 2005. He and Nicole will stand before their family and friends and commit themselves to each other. And in approximately 7 months, my son will reach another milestone. He will become a father. I had to stop and ponder those words. My son will become a father. Wow. Anyway...not only will he reach a milestone, so will I when this wonderful miracle makes me a Grandmother. I knew he and Nicole wanted to start a family right away, but I wasn't ready to hear the words, "Mom, are you sitting down?" this soon. I can't find the words to express my happiness at my son's news. Nicole is such a wonderful young lady and the two of them will make wonderful parents. I can only hope I will be half the grandmother mine was. My own mother died when my children were 2 and 4 years old. For the brief time she was here for my children, she couldn't have loved them more. She was a very special lady.
I haven't done a list since the first one. It seems appropriate to have a list for this occasion, so here goes.
Five Things I Will Teach My Grandchild
1. I'll do everything I can to teach my grandchild to show love. You may feel love for someone, but letting that love be known in different ways is so important. You don't have to say I love you all the time. I want to make sure he or she knows how important it is to let the people she loves know it...in one form or another.
2. I will tell that child all about his or her heritage. My father immigrated from Greece when he was 6 years old. My mother's heritage is French and Scotch-Irish. He or she will know the importance of knowing where your roots are.
3. I want to teach him or her to fingerpaint. Yes, fingerpaint. It's the most expressive you can be and requires no talent. The artwork created will be framed and hung on my walls with pride.
4. I want to help teach him or her to appreciate the natural beauty where he or she lives. It's so easy to take for granted the gorgeous beaches, plants and scenery of Kauai, so I want to be able to point out a beautiful flower, a spectacular sunset or a beautiful cloud formation. These things make you smile and we can't smile enough!
5. I want to teach him or her to love Mom and Dad no matter what. I learned with my son that you never give up on a child. He sure gave me a hard time when he was growing up, but I never gave up on him. I knew there was a wonderful person under that tough exterior. I was right. I hope to teach his child that no matter how mad you get, how frustrated you may feel or how you may want to slap the crap out of your daddy, do not ever give up on them!
I'm sure there's more I want to teach my grandchild, but my lists are limited to 5. Otherwise I'd be here all night rambling on about what I want to do for my first grandchild. What special days are ahead!
Magnolia
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Saturday, October 15, 2005
The Adventures of My Knee
About 3 months ago, I was walking into my kitchen, made a slight turn and heard a loud pop in my right knee. Having worked as an administrator for 5 orthopedic surgeons for 13 years, I knew this was not a good thing. About a week later, when my stride would cause a certain part of my knee to move a certain way, I would have pain that would nearly cause me to fall. So, off to the doctor I went.
After an exam and MRI, it was determined that I had torn my medial meniscus and there was a lesion on one of the bones. I'm not one to put off the inevitable and with my son getting married in December, I knew I needed to take care of this now. I had surgery a week later and all seemed to go well until this week. (Well, except when me and the crutches got crosswise and the crutches won, throwing me to the ground on to my good knee...otherwise everything went well.) I noticed that my right leg was swollen. When one leg is swollen and the other one is not, it's a great clue something is wrong. I went to the doctor, he agreed things weren't normal and he ordered a Doppler Flow study. This is kinda like a sonogram and they can see the arteries and veins (in color, no less!) and find out if there is a blockage somewhere. It turns out there was a blood clot behind the right knee. Down to the Emergency Room I was wheeled where I would be admitted to the hospital for a luxurious 3-5 day stay. I was started on an IV drip of Heparin, a blood thinner and assigned to my spot in the hallway. As luck would have it, the hospital was at capacity, so I became a Hall Person in the ER. A large osteopathic hospital closed down a year or so ago here in Fort Worth and it has caused other hospitals to, at times, be at maximum and/or overflow capacity.
My time spent as a Hall Person was quite interesting. I was in the Trauma section of this large emergency room and believe me, I was not bored at all. From the drunkouttahismind victim of a motorcycle accident, to the guy who fell off a roof, to the pleas for anyone to bring a urinal to Section 14, to the screaming child of a grandmother who had indigestion instead of a heart attack, to the saddness of a very elderly lady who had fallen at home and was finally, after 3 days, found by her granddaughter...it was amazing. I was there, in my 9 foot section of Hallway D, observing the world as I rarely get to see it. People who are unfortunate enough to need urgent critical help. I've worked in healthcare all my adult life in one capacity or another. I was even one of the many UCLA students that worked "the desk" at the Emergency Room at UCLA Medical Center back in the late 1960s. I was young then and soaked it up like a sponge. It was exciting then. However, laying in my bed from 10:00am until 7:00pm in the hall of the ER this past Thursday, I had a chance to realize just how fortunate I was. Number one, I was fortunate that my problem was one that was going to be easily resolved. And number two, I was in a terrific hospital with a compassionate, caring staff. As I listened to the nurses, doctors and other employees interact with the patients, there was not one moment when they addressed a patient with anything but total respect. When time is critical in caring for and diagnosing someone, you would think pleasantries would go out the window and it would be all business. Not here...doctors and nurses talked to patients as though they were friends, setting them at ease as much as they could, addressing their needs and getting them the care and treatment they need.
I can't tell you how many times I was asked if I needed anything. At about 4:00, they my nurse said they had a real spot for me. I looked to my right at the person on a bed with a neck brace and said, "Doesn't he need it more than me?" She said, "Are you sure?" and I said of course. I was fine where I was. Besides, they were getting ready to do some remodeling and the electricians were working about 8 feet from me and they were pretty darn cute. Their supervisor would come by about every half hour and he was really good looking too. I didn't want to be moved behind some curtain! The veiw was too good!
Finally a room was available for me and I was taken to the floor. Once again, the staff was wonderful. I've recieved excellent care. At 7:30 pm I even had a visit from the Director of Food Services. He noticed my late admission and wanted to know what I would like for breakfast. That's what I call service! The food has been wonderful. How many times have you heard the word wonderful and hospital food in the same sentence?
The hospital I am referring to is Harris Methodist Fort Worth. This is a great hospital. In times when people gripe about healthcare workers, doctor's fees and anything else associated with healthcare, I wanted to tell of my experience so that people would know it's not all bad. I hope that if you need the services of an emergency room or hospital that you are lucky enough to have an excellent facility to go to. And one more thing, remember...nurses are angels. They work so hard for so little. The kindness you show to them is truly appreciated, I am sure.
I hope to go home tomorrow. I miss my cat, Brandy, too much to stay longer than after tomorrow. I'll be on coumadin for 30-90 days and then no more. My experience served to increase my appreciation for what I have at my disposal and will not hesitate to say thank you to my friends in the Administration of Harris Hospital. I hope I won't ever need the services of an ER or hospital again (yeah, right...) but if I do, I'll come back to Harris Hospital and their caring staff. There's a lot of people doing a lot of things right here.
After an exam and MRI, it was determined that I had torn my medial meniscus and there was a lesion on one of the bones. I'm not one to put off the inevitable and with my son getting married in December, I knew I needed to take care of this now. I had surgery a week later and all seemed to go well until this week. (Well, except when me and the crutches got crosswise and the crutches won, throwing me to the ground on to my good knee...otherwise everything went well.) I noticed that my right leg was swollen. When one leg is swollen and the other one is not, it's a great clue something is wrong. I went to the doctor, he agreed things weren't normal and he ordered a Doppler Flow study. This is kinda like a sonogram and they can see the arteries and veins (in color, no less!) and find out if there is a blockage somewhere. It turns out there was a blood clot behind the right knee. Down to the Emergency Room I was wheeled where I would be admitted to the hospital for a luxurious 3-5 day stay. I was started on an IV drip of Heparin, a blood thinner and assigned to my spot in the hallway. As luck would have it, the hospital was at capacity, so I became a Hall Person in the ER. A large osteopathic hospital closed down a year or so ago here in Fort Worth and it has caused other hospitals to, at times, be at maximum and/or overflow capacity.
My time spent as a Hall Person was quite interesting. I was in the Trauma section of this large emergency room and believe me, I was not bored at all. From the drunkouttahismind victim of a motorcycle accident, to the guy who fell off a roof, to the pleas for anyone to bring a urinal to Section 14, to the screaming child of a grandmother who had indigestion instead of a heart attack, to the saddness of a very elderly lady who had fallen at home and was finally, after 3 days, found by her granddaughter...it was amazing. I was there, in my 9 foot section of Hallway D, observing the world as I rarely get to see it. People who are unfortunate enough to need urgent critical help. I've worked in healthcare all my adult life in one capacity or another. I was even one of the many UCLA students that worked "the desk" at the Emergency Room at UCLA Medical Center back in the late 1960s. I was young then and soaked it up like a sponge. It was exciting then. However, laying in my bed from 10:00am until 7:00pm in the hall of the ER this past Thursday, I had a chance to realize just how fortunate I was. Number one, I was fortunate that my problem was one that was going to be easily resolved. And number two, I was in a terrific hospital with a compassionate, caring staff. As I listened to the nurses, doctors and other employees interact with the patients, there was not one moment when they addressed a patient with anything but total respect. When time is critical in caring for and diagnosing someone, you would think pleasantries would go out the window and it would be all business. Not here...doctors and nurses talked to patients as though they were friends, setting them at ease as much as they could, addressing their needs and getting them the care and treatment they need.
I can't tell you how many times I was asked if I needed anything. At about 4:00, they my nurse said they had a real spot for me. I looked to my right at the person on a bed with a neck brace and said, "Doesn't he need it more than me?" She said, "Are you sure?" and I said of course. I was fine where I was. Besides, they were getting ready to do some remodeling and the electricians were working about 8 feet from me and they were pretty darn cute. Their supervisor would come by about every half hour and he was really good looking too. I didn't want to be moved behind some curtain! The veiw was too good!
Finally a room was available for me and I was taken to the floor. Once again, the staff was wonderful. I've recieved excellent care. At 7:30 pm I even had a visit from the Director of Food Services. He noticed my late admission and wanted to know what I would like for breakfast. That's what I call service! The food has been wonderful. How many times have you heard the word wonderful and hospital food in the same sentence?
The hospital I am referring to is Harris Methodist Fort Worth. This is a great hospital. In times when people gripe about healthcare workers, doctor's fees and anything else associated with healthcare, I wanted to tell of my experience so that people would know it's not all bad. I hope that if you need the services of an emergency room or hospital that you are lucky enough to have an excellent facility to go to. And one more thing, remember...nurses are angels. They work so hard for so little. The kindness you show to them is truly appreciated, I am sure.
I hope to go home tomorrow. I miss my cat, Brandy, too much to stay longer than after tomorrow. I'll be on coumadin for 30-90 days and then no more. My experience served to increase my appreciation for what I have at my disposal and will not hesitate to say thank you to my friends in the Administration of Harris Hospital. I hope I won't ever need the services of an ER or hospital again (yeah, right...) but if I do, I'll come back to Harris Hospital and their caring staff. There's a lot of people doing a lot of things right here.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Boxing...What's The Point???
Boxing...I've never really been able to grasp the entertainment factor of 2 people in a square ring (already, the sport shows 'intelligence' calling it a ring) trying to beat the living daylights out of the other one. In every aspect of life, we discourage fighting. People spend time in jail for doing the same damn thing. So, when I read that a boxer named Leavander Johnson is in the hospital, in critical condition, it just made sense that I should take this opportunity to get on my soap box.
What other sport promotes knocking some guy (or woman) repeatidly in the head or whatever body part they can get at, until they drop to their knees and lose? Leavander Johnson was fighting Jesus Chavez and as a result, Leavander has a subdural hematoma. He was taken into surgery, his brain began to swell and the doctors placed him into a medically induced coma. He is listed in grave condition. At 35, he may die because he wanted to be the better boxer. The Winner. Wear some stupid belt.
I just don't get it and never will. Boxing isn't a sport. It's merely a show of who can land the most punches. And gee whiz, I'm sure Jesus Chavez didn't mean to hit him so hard.
Yeah, right.
What other sport promotes knocking some guy (or woman) repeatidly in the head or whatever body part they can get at, until they drop to their knees and lose? Leavander Johnson was fighting Jesus Chavez and as a result, Leavander has a subdural hematoma. He was taken into surgery, his brain began to swell and the doctors placed him into a medically induced coma. He is listed in grave condition. At 35, he may die because he wanted to be the better boxer. The Winner. Wear some stupid belt.
I just don't get it and never will. Boxing isn't a sport. It's merely a show of who can land the most punches. And gee whiz, I'm sure Jesus Chavez didn't mean to hit him so hard.
Yeah, right.
Friday, September 16, 2005
5ive Things
List #1OK, everyone makes lists, right? Of course you do! I have lists all over the place...in my purse, on my iPAQ, on my laptop, on my PC, on my laptop at my office...some even have things crossed off. Crossing things off the list. Now THAT'S the best part of having a list. That great feeling of accomplishing something so that you can draw a line through it. Ya gotta love it.
I have a few lists. There's always the list of stuff to do on Saturdays. And the obligatory Christmas list that I start in October as I finish addressing my Christmas cards while I answer the door for all the little Halloween trick or treaters. My favorite list is the one I call my "It Would Be Nice" list. It used to be longer, but I decided to keep it short and sweet, so now it's 5 items. It's a list of the things I definately want to do or accomplish before I check out of this life and into whatever follows. So, here you go. My List. In random order. I hope it motivates you to hit the reply below and let me know what yours is.
1. Take a ride in a hot air balloon
2. Be able to look into the eyes of my grandchild.
3. Visit Greece, my father's homeland.
4. Fall in love again.
5. Scan all my old photographs (I do mean OLD) and create CDs for my kids.
That's it. Nothing earthshattering, but so important to me. There will be other lists. You'll have to check back to find out what they are. Don't you just love teasers???
Sunday, September 11, 2005
September 11, 2005
Four years. It was 4 years ago this morning that I watched in horror as the television in my office replayed, over and over, the airplanes flying into the first tower, then the second, followed by the Pentagon and the countryside. Like every other American, I'll never forget that day...that moment. And I don't want to forget it. I want it stored away in my brain, able to bring it up whenever I hear criticism of our efforts to fight terrorism. I want to retrieve it whenever I need to be reminded how vulnerable we were then and still are. I want to hang on to the memory because the minute I forget the horror, the terror, the fear...that's the moment I will doubt that our troops have a reason to be in Iraq. Without any effort on the part of the American troops and all the foreign troops by their side, the bad guys, the Al-Queda, would move forward without resistence in their efforts to kill whoever their leader says they should. Whoever doesn't subscribe to their beliefs. Few do. We have reason to fear them...to want them stopped. Nothing will convince me that if we do nothing, they will just be good boys and stay in their own yard. Anyone who says it's not our war to fight should do more to educate themselves as to just what Al-Queda's master plan is. Some have said to me "I don't worry because I live in the most powerful country in the world. They won't get to me." My response is so obvious I have to try very hard to not laugh in their face. I may be wrong, but weren't there only 16 or 17 men involved in turning those 4 planes into missiles on 9/11/01? As powerful as America is, we couldn't stop that from happening. Wake up...educate yourself.
Never let the image of those planes crashing into the towers totally leave you.
Never let the image of those planes crashing into the towers totally leave you.
Who Failed Who?
I don't claim to know it all. I read the paper on the weekends and catch the news at night when I can. Like others, I form my own opinions, but try hard to get facts rather than listen to speculation. I've been reading emails being sent by my friends, all having varying opinions on how, and if, the devastating destruction and loss of life caused by Hurricane Katrina could have been minimized at all. If we move forward a step or 2 and decide that efforts would be better served in learning from this rather than debating who was at fault and just who screwed up, the healing process may get started. Just may. I realize we need to analyze what went wrong, who hesitated too long, who did or didn't listen to requests to evacuate, but there are ways we can serve the victims, evacuees, dislocated people and/or refugees (I immensely dislike that one), so let's let the authorities do that. Let's stop blaming the guy at the top who did what he was supposed to do.
Along with my full time job, I have a part time job at my favorite store, The Container Store, here in Fort Worth. Friday, September 9th, 2 ladies came in and were looking for a small stand to put their TV on. They said that they were from New Orleans and needed something for their temporary housing. I told them how sorry I was for what they must have gone through and one lady commented, "Oh, we got out in time. We left when we first heard the reports of how bad it was going to be." They went on to say they had no idea what they would return to, but were grateful they heeded the warnings. These ladies did not hesitate to leave. Material things can be replaced. Lives can't.
Over the next weeks, months and years, we will continue to see reports on the news about lives lost, animals being shot, diseases related to being in the water and rebuilding efforts. I don't think we've even scratched the surface to see just what the long term effects will be...psychological, emotional, financial, health related, the economy and others we haven't even thought of yet. The rebuilding of the gulf coast will take time. Let's hope that, as I've heard people say, it will be better than ever once that effort is complete.
Along with my full time job, I have a part time job at my favorite store, The Container Store, here in Fort Worth. Friday, September 9th, 2 ladies came in and were looking for a small stand to put their TV on. They said that they were from New Orleans and needed something for their temporary housing. I told them how sorry I was for what they must have gone through and one lady commented, "Oh, we got out in time. We left when we first heard the reports of how bad it was going to be." They went on to say they had no idea what they would return to, but were grateful they heeded the warnings. These ladies did not hesitate to leave. Material things can be replaced. Lives can't.
Over the next weeks, months and years, we will continue to see reports on the news about lives lost, animals being shot, diseases related to being in the water and rebuilding efforts. I don't think we've even scratched the surface to see just what the long term effects will be...psychological, emotional, financial, health related, the economy and others we haven't even thought of yet. The rebuilding of the gulf coast will take time. Let's hope that, as I've heard people say, it will be better than ever once that effort is complete.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
What Price Love
The cute little cat 
shown here is Brandy, my lovable little companion. She's been with me for a little over 2 of her 11 years. My daughter rescued her from the animal shelter when she was a kitten and when her job took her to Africa, she said..."Mom, can you take Brandy?" I'd never had a cat before and was really reluctant to say yes. But I did and have never regretted my decision! She is like a little puppy...she's playful, loves to pretend she's being stalked by aliens, loves to sleep on my desk while I sit here and work and is always happy to see me come in the door at the end of the day.
About 6 months ago, she became ill and after many trips to the vet and blood work that was sent to Texas A&M, she was diagnosed as having pancreatitis. She would stop drinking water and for a cat, that can spell out a very rapid decline and death. The first time it happened, I nearly lost her. With each successive episode, I became more and more aware of the symptoms that would lead up to her full blown illness. She is now on prednisone every other day to keep her pancreas happy. Who knows how long a cat can remain on such a potent medication, but she will continue to recieve it as long as it helps her.
After one particularly expensive vet bill, someone commented that no cat was worth that much money. I commented that I had no idea when I would reach the point when I would ask myself if I should continue with the expense. The expense isn't really the issue though. The real issue is her quality of life. If the vet tells me she is in constant pain or unable to walk across the room, I'll rethink my decision to prolong her life. But for now, she's a happy, healthy little animal that returns all the love I show her. When I look at her and softly tell her I love her, she half closes her eyes and starts purring so loud you can hear it from across the room. That's unconditional love. And for me, that's priceless.
shown here is Brandy, my lovable little companion. She's been with me for a little over 2 of her 11 years. My daughter rescued her from the animal shelter when she was a kitten and when her job took her to Africa, she said..."Mom, can you take Brandy?" I'd never had a cat before and was really reluctant to say yes. But I did and have never regretted my decision! She is like a little puppy...she's playful, loves to pretend she's being stalked by aliens, loves to sleep on my desk while I sit here and work and is always happy to see me come in the door at the end of the day. About 6 months ago, she became ill and after many trips to the vet and blood work that was sent to Texas A&M, she was diagnosed as having pancreatitis. She would stop drinking water and for a cat, that can spell out a very rapid decline and death. The first time it happened, I nearly lost her. With each successive episode, I became more and more aware of the symptoms that would lead up to her full blown illness. She is now on prednisone every other day to keep her pancreas happy. Who knows how long a cat can remain on such a potent medication, but she will continue to recieve it as long as it helps her.
After one particularly expensive vet bill, someone commented that no cat was worth that much money. I commented that I had no idea when I would reach the point when I would ask myself if I should continue with the expense. The expense isn't really the issue though. The real issue is her quality of life. If the vet tells me she is in constant pain or unable to walk across the room, I'll rethink my decision to prolong her life. But for now, she's a happy, healthy little animal that returns all the love I show her. When I look at her and softly tell her I love her, she half closes her eyes and starts purring so loud you can hear it from across the room. That's unconditional love. And for me, that's priceless.
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