New Friend Luke
We have adopted a Cairn Terrier. Think Toto of The Wizard of Oz…
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The Mystery of Sarah’s Gravestones
Poor Sarah died at 5 years, nine months and 22 days old in 1850. These two stones for Sarah are near each other, have the same information, and are definately for the same child.
Why?
Camping in Maine – The Way Life Should Be
There is a special enjoyment that is derived from camping. I’m not talking camping with hot showers and MSNBC on your flat screen in your RV, I’m talking about sit-around-the-campfire, Coleman lanterns, Marshmallows burning on whittled sticks, and the laughter of family punctuating the night air.
The glow of firelight on a child’s cheek, the settling into your seat as fire-cooked food settles in contented stomachs and the lightheadedness from fresh air and simple joy brings a smile to your face.
The stars are brighter in the black velvet sky and the calls of Owls and Coydogs pierce the silence of the night reminding us of our fear of the unknown in the dark.
By dawn, the cold has settled around the sleeping, making them aware of the thin stretch of cloth between their bedding and the crisp greying of day.
The sounds of morning activity signals the start of another meal being prepared around a campfire. The snapping of the kindling in harmony with the sounds of tent zippers and yawning, disheveled campers emerging from their lairs.
We circle around the fire again.
My Mom was in a surgeon’s waiting room and…
By request I am publishing an interpretation of an email I sent over a year ago regarding an incident with my mother. Sand, this one’s for you…
I took my mother to the oral surgeon first thing this morning to have two infected teeth removed. Since her Mastoid ear surgery a couple of weeks ago, she can’t hear much at all.
While we were anxious in the oral surgeon’s waiting room, a yearling child was vocalizing happily just out of our sight-line in the large area.
My mother leaned to me and said,
That’s pleasant to hear.
Oh, you can hear that? Good.
After a couple of minutes Mom said,
It’s a man, right?
What?
It’s a man screaming.
What man?
The screaming.
After skipping a beat,
It’s a baby talking
I said, while pointing to the right of the waiting room.
Mom pointed to the left, saying,
Isn’t it a man screaming in the dentist chair?
No, it’s a baby talking.
Poor Mom had been sitting, waiting to have two teeth pulled, listening to a grown man scream in the dentist chair.
Well, men are big babies anyway…
…was all she had to say about that.
Tooth Fairy Truths
My mother had me leave my teeth for the Tooth Fairy on my nightstand.
I told her I was supposed to put it under my pillow. Everyone knew that!
Mom said The Tooth Fairy was very busy and we should help her out by making her job easier, and she wouldn’t wake me retrieving my tooth from under my pillow.
Three mornings in a row I awoke to see my tooth still where I left it. Mom said The Tooth Fairy was very busy and she would get to me as soon as possible.
On the fourth day I awoke to see my tooth still beside me on the nightstand. The magic had dulled by this time, and I wasn’t surprised. It was a school day and I heard Mom climbing the stairs to come wake me. Depressed, I rolled over and pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to go to school. Mom came in my room and then left again. I heard her going down the stairs. I didn’t understand and I rolled over…
My tooth was gone. A quarter was there instead. The truth slammed into my brain. Mom was the tooth fairy. And she was too busy to get to me for four days…
The Duck Pond
I’ve passed this farmland throughout my life…
Ducks…Geese…a lovely view…
This small building on the shore of the pond…so picturesque on a late autumn day…
Barn Along the Way
I’ve passed by this barn for most of my life. Some structures are as much a part of the scenery as the trees and the mountains. The view is unimaginable without it. You look for it, expect it, and feel at peace when your eyes are filled with its seemingly timeless beauty with all its flaws.
Geriatric Doctor Without Concern for Patients
This falls into my…”Are You Kidding Me?” catagory.
I took both my parents to their primary care checkup this week.
Now..they have both had this doctor for over 20 years, when he took over the practice from the retiring town doctor. Both my parents have attended every check-up, followed every directive, taken every medication…
I’ll ignore the fact he never had my mother get a bone density scan in all these years. Of course, her 85 year old hip broke this winter, causing her to fall.
I’ll ignore that I had to report his last office location to the town code enforcer for an exterior handrail to the entrance that had pulled out of the wall, so offered no support for an elderly person to get into the building, and had not been fixed after YEARS, AND when I tried to bring my parents through the wheelchair access door, I had to make my parents wait outside on the ramp while I moved a stack of cardboard boxes that blocked the entrance. I’m trying really hard to get over this BS, but I am hitting the laptop keys a bit too hard, it seems.
All that aside…Doctor PB moves to a new location down the block by combining with another practice. Fine.
Geriatric Doctor…remember that…
One handicapped parking spot.
No wheelchair automatic door opener on any door. Only one entrance, but three doors to get to his office inside.
I had two people with walkers, one blind with dementia, and I had to be a contortionist to open the door for Mom to enter the outer entrance space, and keep Dad from walking off into the door jamb as I try to hold the door open and help pull his walker into this cramped entrance.
Now, I have to back up two old people with walkers so that I am able to open the office door into the entrance space, and again, do the yoga pose to get them both in.
Now we have to walk across a waiting room of sick children to enter the Geriatric doctor’s door (right next to all the goobery kiddy books and toys) to go to his ‘waiting room’. This glorious waiting room has upgraded since my last visit when there were only two chairs, and I had to sit on a walker. Now there are four! One directly behind the door so you can get whacked in the knees when another patient arrives. It’s not an official space, just a wide spot in the hallway. Ridiculous.
What happened to HIPA? No privacy here to discuss appointments, referrals, prescriptions.
What happened to ADA? The patient following us was crippled with two walking sticks.
I’m not even going to bother telling you about the exam room ballet we had to dance to get us all in, but I was sweating by the time I got to sit down.
On a walker.
Thank you for letting me vent. I feel helpless when I come home from a day like this, with a migraine, aggravated Fibromyalgia, and exhausted.
