What state do you live in? And WHY?

I squealed out loud when I saw that the temperature forcasted for tomorrow is a whopping 24 degrees above zero. Sometimes I wonder why I live in this wonderful state called Wisconsin?

Family is probably my first and foremost reason for living here. I was born in Minnesota and moved here when I was 3 days old. That wold be the easiest answer to the question for me. I do have a favorite part of Wisconsin. The rolling hills and green-ness in the summer can't be beat. Ooh, and Fall and Spring are fantastic! Yes, we have -20 degree temperatures with a degree of regularity. And 100 degrees with nearly 100% humidity in the summer isn't out of the question. Mood swings, er- temperature swings of 50 degrees within a 24 hour day. Well, Spring and Fall go a long way towards smoothing that over. Spring is coming . . .

Oh Come ON!- a lesson in patience!

Schools in the area were all called off yesterday because it had rained and then was well on it's way to freezing, with 17 BELOW zero actual temps forecasted for last night. I unfortunately work NORTH of "the area". In a district that rarely calls school off for weather purposes. Now for the patience part- I saw on a local news website that school was closed today! YIPPEE! However- we have an official calling tree system where the principal calls 4 people and they call the next people and so on. I am the first person on the list after he starts the other chains going. The news website reported it at 5:37am. It is now 6:03 and I still have not received the call. Frustrating! I should have been in the shower, had my car started and be ready to leave my house in 12 minutes. I'm not ready- the news says "no school!" WHERE IS MY PHONE CALL!?!?!??

Update: At 6:07 I called my building secretary, who I would call if calling in sick(I knew she would be expecting phone calls this early). She hadn't heard anything yet. Anything. She was unable to reach our principal and her and the other secretary decided- START CALLING! I'd made my phone call and call waiting beeped with my principal on the line. At 6:20! It was indeed off, and the person who makes the decision didn't call people because it was called so early and was on the news. For the record: I live so far from my work that we don't get the same TV channels. I get Western Wisconsin, they get Twin Cities. . . . I think maybe we should be in a different time zone! Maybe I'll do a post about how drastically the weather can vary during my drive . . .

Okay, I'm over it. Glad I only had a partial cup of coffee. I'm going back to bed. Stay warm!

See y'all this afternoon!

A

Anniversary. . . .

When I began this post, it was intended to be a quick recounting of the events of my family eight years ago. As I began to type, it became more of a journaling. I've never sat down and tried to type it all out before. Tears were involved. It think it'll be good to have it down in type. That being said, I know it's lengthy, and if you don't want to continue reading, then don't. I won't be offended. In fact, I really won't even know.

A rather sad anniversary in our family today. Eight years ago today, in 2000, my mom had her brain aneurysm.
I woke up that morning in Utah. I'd been back after Christmas for one week exactly. I'd graduated in December and was going to start looking for a job to at least finish the year out in Logan. It was a Wednesday morning, my roommates and I were milling around the kitchen together when the phone rang. My sister "Mandy, it's Mom- the ambulance is on the way." I'll never forget it. The previous Friday night I'd called to talk to my mom on the phone. My sister told me she couldn't talk, she had a headache. Now- my mom has had migraine headaches as long as I can remember, but not to this extreme. I made them put her on the phone, she just had a headache, surely she could talk to me for a few minutes! She sounded rough, barely able to croak out her responses. I told her she should go to the doctor, even the emergency room if it's that bad. She told me she'd go on Monday if she wasn't better(that's my mom!). I pressured her with the fact that Monday was Martin Luther King day, and are we sure the clinics were open? She compromised by saying that she'd go to urgent care in the morning if she didn't feel better. She did. They sent her home with a (mis)diagnosis of a sinus infection and 4 medications (antibiotic, pain pill, decongestant and I forget what else).
She medicated and went to work Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights. Wednesday morning on her way home, the head ache became so bad that she couldn't remember the drive home. She made it safely, by the grace of God. After Dad helped her out of the car and into the house, they began talking about taking her to the doctor, or calling an ambulance. Mom refused to have an ambulance called(again, that's my mom!). Dad began getting her ready for a trip to the clinic(not the one responsible for the mis-diagnosis), he'd already called and they were expecting her. I wasn't there, so the details are fuzzy for me, but I believe that when Dad helping her on with her shoes resulted in vomiting, she consented to an ambulance.
That's when they called me. I was on the phone as the ambulance showed up and took her away. I talked to my sisters and to my dad at the hospital and found out that they were going to take her to Minneapolis. They wanted to Life Flight her, but the weather was too bad, so they took her by ambulance. I waited. I called my grandparents. I called my aunts. I waited. I talked to my dad again, "She'll be fine, Mandy." I waited. "Dad, when do I come home?" "She'll be fine- wait. If it was my mom I'd want to be there. Come home. You get a flight home, call me and tell me when, and I'll be there to pick you up." My roommate and best friend started calling the airlines, trying to get an emergency flight. I started to pack. I wasn't sure how long I'd be gone, or what I would encounter when I got of that plane. I packed black dress clothes.
When I got off the plane, my dad wasn't there. I was devastated. I almost couldn't breathe. What had happened in the hours I was in the air? After making several phone calls, my sister came running in. Dad was outside. Mom had had an aneurysm and was in a drug induced coma(is that how you say it?). Her aneurysm had bled out, but the slightest raise in her blood pressure could cause a rupture and kill her. They would do surgery the day after tomorrow.
We could see her 2 at a time for a few minutes each hour. The next night I called a friend who came to get me. He took me home to Mom and Dad's house. I slept very little, my friend helped me with the dishes while we talked, if I remember right. The next morning I took my mom's car back up to the hospital so we'd have an extra vehicle.
My uncle flew in from Connecticut, but he sat with my grandfather in another hospital. Shortly after he heard about Mom, he'd had a heart attack. (It was relatively mild and he lived for several years after that.) My aunts and uncles and my sisters, my dad and I sat in the surgical waiting room at the University Hospital and waited. It was a very long day. Finally, Dr. Maxwell came out and told us they'd been able to clip both aneurysms (like a barrette). Now we'd wait some more. Her surgery was the 21st of January, she didn't open her eyes at all until the 28th. And then only for a second. The next weeks were a blur. They involved many, many hours at the hospital. I remember that a nurse, Heidi, and I cut her hair. They'd shaved the top of her head, and the back was bloody and matted. We carefully lifted her head and washed it, but it was so matted that she looked to me and I made the decision to cut, and cut I did. They'd waited, expecting her to wake up and then she'd be able to make her own decision about cutting her hair. She hadn't, and it was time. Yes, my sisters were furious.
My older sister had 2 small daughters. Fortunately her husband could watch them for much of the time. The four of us rotated through shifts so that we'd be there when she woke up. I think it was 12 days before she woke up. A flutter of her eyes here and there.
When she woke up, she wasn't herself. She was impatient and irrational. She couldn't eat of drink. She tore out her feeding tube 3 times. She had physical therapy and swallowing tests. They thickened everything, even her much demanded coke. They had to tie her to the bed to keep her in it. She was in no way ready to walk on her own, and she wasn't rational. The turmoil continued. She has smoked since her teens, and her addiction was only stayed when her nurse gave her a straw to "smoke". (You can laugh here- I have!)
Somewhere in February a friend of mine drove me out to Utah. We drove all night, arriving Saturday. My friends threw me a going away party. We packed up all my stuff in his car and mine and drove home. I didn't go back until several years later for a visit.
Her progress determined whether she'd go to an acute rehab facility for intense rehab, or to a nursing home. She didn't progress like we'd hoped. When we left, we brought her to our local nursing home. She kept trying to jump out of the car. We kept locking the doors. The nursing home wasn't great, but we wanted her close to home. It was right up the street.
She was discharged on a Wednesday. That night I'd gone to church. Dad got her settled in and was home in bed when I got home at 9:45. The phone rang and I answered it. Mom had tried to get up out of bed and had fallen and split her head open. Did we want them to call an ambulance? She'll need stitches. Dad and I went to get her. I can't remember if Dad drove or I did. My car had power locks(we'd realized earlier that this was a good thing). Mom kept trying to open the doors while we were driving and we kept hitting the lock button to prevent her from doing so. After her staples were complete, we brought her back to the nursing home. After a day or so, she went by ambulance again. Her stress was messing with her vital signs. The doctors recommended that if we could take care of her at home, we should do so. We tried it. Would we be able to do it? I could not give up my life entirely.
The next weeks involved my tough decision to return Mom to the nursing home. Again, I angered my family, but I could not be her sole care giver to the point where I couldn't even get to church. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I drove all the way sobbing hysterically. Dad brought her back home, and we settled in to a routine. Dad worked 3 or 4 twelve hour nights at a time. That end of the week I took care of mom. One his days off, he was the primary care giver. I slept most nights on the floor of the living room beside her hospital bed. She would get up and roam in the night and we couldn't be sure she was safe or that she was able to walk on her own. She was hot all the time. One night I woke up to find that she'd stepped right over me and was out on the deck. Somehow we were able to keep her safe during that time. Her drinks still needed thickening, her diet soft. She was on a ton of meds and required twice daily shots in the stomach with blood thinner. We came up with a medication log system to make sure she got all of her meds. There were days where we had to bundle her up and take her back up to the emergency room at the University Hospital.
Nothing was simple or straightforward. Mom wasn't simple or straightforward. She was still irrational. She couldn't remember anything. I'd wake up at night on the floor beside her bed to her sad, little voice, "Mandy, what happened to me?" "You had an aneurysm Mom, you'll get better, you'll remember some day" became our mantra. I repeated it every time she woke up scared. "Mandy?" "Yes Mom, I'm here." After a while, she seemed to remember, but just needed to hear it. "What happened? I had an aneurysm, right? And I'll get better?" "Yes, Mom."
My grandparents were wonderful. The rest of my family, not so much. Her siblings rarely came to visit, but always had opinions to shoot off to the rest of my family. One time my aunt called from Connecticut and told us that we should have put her in the acute rehab place. And we most certainly should never have let her start smoking. Thanks for the support. I did blow off some steam there- "Thanks for your opinion. Perhaps if they ever came to visit, they'd know that she wasn't able to go to the acute care facility. It wasn't our choice. She wasn't capable. The facility wouldn't take her, thanks for rubbing it in! And who are we to choose for her to stop smoking? She was smoking STRAWS!" And then I promptly hung up. Family or no family, we didn't need that.
Eight years later. There have been severe depression, seizures, irrationality, so much repetition that I have screamed. My mom still has short term memory loss. She still has thoughts pop into her head with varying degrees of accuracy that go around and around and set up camp in her mind. She'll be angry at some one for a reason that no one is sure really happened. She makes decisions on a gut level, based on feelings, and logic can't sway her. My dad has had to take on a bigger role in the family; taxes, bills, family communication(none of these are his strengths). My sisters and I have become the mother, to her and to each other. There are times where I just need my mom, only to call and find her angry and self absorbed, threatening to pack all of her stuff and move out, and wishing she was dead. There have been many tears on all sides. Tears at every new holiday, new event, new memory created that Mom won't remember. There has been anger, lots of anger. Anger from Mom, anger with Mom. We are blessed, so blessed to have her. I would do it all over again to keep her with us. She's not the same and never will be, but I guess neither are we.

Well, if you got this far, thanks for reading. I'm glad to finally have it down on paper(er, blog). I called my mom while I was typing this, just to talk. At her request, I'll print it out sometime to give to her. Some parts I'll cut. There are some things she just doesn't need to know. I didn't intend to portray her badly in any way, but I know it would hurt her to read some of it. There is so much insecurity in her after all of this.

Yours,
Amanda (Mandy)

Old times . . .

I'm watching the first season of Laverne and Shirley on DVD. I remember them from way back. I've had the set for 2 weeks from the library and it's due back tomorrow, so here I am . . . I am not going to make it through the entire season . . .

Shazaam!

Shazaam! This is a hot, mildly psycho new template! Wow!

I'm not sure if I'll keep it. It's fancy. It's hip. It's brown . . . and red! It's beautiful!

I wonder if it's hard to read. Hard to look at.

We'll see. Maybe it'll grow to feel more natural.


One time? One time I put red lacy ribbon as a book mark in my Bible, and called it my harlot Bible. It seemed highly improper. Now? I don't even notice the ribbons, and no one else had problems with them. Is this now my "harlot blog"? Or will it grow on me like the ribbons? Not so shocking after I get used to it. Perhaps.

Stay tuned. If it grows on me and I love it, the next step is a red lacy outfit that I'll wear to work next week. My "harlot outfit". Hmm, tomorrow is casual day. Maybe I should throw in some red fishnet tights.

A

So Wrong . . .

I saw on CNN that an autopsy on Ike Turner ruled his death in December to be from cocaine overdose. Now- I'm not that eloquent, especially at 9:30 at night, but I have to conclude that the death of a 76 year old man by cocaine overdose is sad. What a waste of a life. By 76, I guess I expect that people have sowed those "wild oats" per se, and have settled down(like for 40 years already!). If I am still running circles around my own sinful nature at that point, I pray that the Lord will take me out! I somehow expect that I will be on the downhill side over that battle in my life. Well on the road to accomplishing all that I want to accomplish in my life. Winding down, or even still going strong. In July I'll be meeting some retired missionaries who are operating an international Bible ministry. They are translating and shipping out Bible materials all over the globe! I hope that I am still going as strong at that age!

brrr.

Our high on Saturday is predicted to be -2. That's right, TWO BELOW ZERO. Thank you, God that the coldest days this week are the ones I don't have to drive to work! brrr!

Still immature!

I have found a new friend. Queen of the Mayhem and I seem to have similar infantile humor going on. Queen, here is the story I promised you!

Two years ago, I was working at our local High School. Working in a small group setting allowed for many great conversations with my students, usually of the delinquent type!(students, not the conversations!) One such student, we'll call him Scott for now(although I confess to calling him other things at times!) was a Beavis and Butthead sort of sophomore. Scott was a skater punk who, judging by his freshman year attitude was bound and determined to go nowhere- fast! Well one day, I was lecturing Scott on getting through life. The lecture included something like this . . . "we all have hoops to jump through, things to do! I have my work duties to do, just like you have school work to do! If I don't do them, I'll get fired, there are consequences! . . . " When my ramblings had finished, Scott, with a small grin interjects(and his best B&B impression- or maybe not), "Ms. B? Two things: First, you said duty. Second? I don't remember, 'cause you said duty." Get it? Doody? I know that I laughed some at the time, but I've gotten a great amount of laugh mileage out of that story. Huh-huh, you said doody!

Well, that's all well and good, until my pastor begins incorporating the word into his Sunday message! The pain! The horror! He must have used it at least a half-dozen times in his message a few weeks ago! Talk about almost peeing myself! I was choking on my giggles, making pained faces at my closest friends. Trying, desperately, not to make eye contact! I thought I would die! He used it again the next week, and is now peppering his messages with it randomly. I hope it passes from his vocab soon, because honestly a woman can only take so much!

See Queen? You and I might just be infantile soul mates! Huh-huh, you said doody! Yep, I've ruined another word for you now, if it wasn't already!

So immature!

I'm so immature. I saw a name in the paper . . . and giggled. SHATWELL

And when did eggs get to be $2.00 a dozen? ($4.59 for organic! Which is far too much to pay from something that comes from where it does!) I guess maybe when gas went up to over $3.10 a gallon. And cheese was more than a dollar more per pound, even $2.00 more! than when I bought it before Christmas (non-sale price!!!). Yikes. I wish my paycheck went up, too. Then I could buy more cheese.

A