IT'S BEEN A WHILE . . .

Gosh, I hadn't realized how long it's been since I've written on this blog. This used to be my only blog. I think here is where I add how I really feel about things, good or bad. I hope there is mostly good here.

I'm retiring on July 1.

I hope that means I'll be able to write more. So many thoughts go through my mind, I wish it was tethered to my blogs.

I think about my kids, my purpose, my friends, my extended family--and my granddaughter, Mila. Since the COVID-19 virus hit the planet, it has stymied my ability to see her, and my children.

The last time we got together as a family was the Sunday before my birthday in March. I had just been on FMLA due to another ankle surgery in February, and my first day back was supposed to be March 15.

Lo, and behold, March 15 was the first day of quarantine. My community is now in a "yellow" zone, meaning we can go places, but need to wear a face mask and stay six feet apart from everyone.

Just last week, we celebrated Tim's birthday. I decided to go. I hadn't gone to Zannah's birthday two weeks before and regretted it. I'm over 60 and have asthma, so am considered a "high risk" person.

While at Zannah's for Tim's birthday, I realized our trip back east in July was not going to happen. Maine is very restricted. You have to stop on the highway and give the authorities your phone number so they can check to make sure you're quarantining for 14 days. Well, we couldn't do that. And we couldn't do anything if we went, except stay in Jamely's house and order door dash for a week. No lighthouses, no beaches, no nothing.

I didn't want to spend the whole 12 days in Pennsylvania--they are restrictive, too--so I decided to wait until we do this big trip all over again next year. The Hill Cumorah Pageant was the impetus of our plans. It was postponed--the very last one--until next year.

I hope and pray we can all be together as a family next year. Please, God, let this pandemic pass.

26th Anniversary of My Father's Death

Today is the 26th Anniversary of my father's death. 

Henry Joseph Tobelmann, Jr., February 3, 1926-November 14, 1989.

I wrote about it in 2009 when it was the 20th Anniversary of his death. You can read all about it HERE.

This was the last picture taken of my father, out in his back yard by the pond on the golf course.
It was October 1989. He was 63 years old. That's just a little over a year older than I am now.

This was my father's picture and write up in his 1943 yearbook.
He did a lot. He was also voted Best Dancer and Most Likely to Succeed.

                          

                 This is my dad in his Navy uniform.
He served in the Great Lakes camp in Michigan during WWII.

When he got out of the Navy at the end of WWII, he went on to college on the GI bill.
This is my father's graduation picture from Villanova University in about 1949-50.
He got a job at Lukens Steel Company right away. That's where my grandfather worked, too.
He retired early in 1988 after coding from a minor hernia operation.
He took that as an omen, and my parents moved to Palm Coast, Florida. He died in 1989.
I'm glad he had a year and a half of retired life to enjoy.

50 Shades of Hell

Photo from "Kristen Lamb's Blog:"
https://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/2015/02/13/is-romance-devolving-50-shades-vs-no-one-puts-baby-in-a-corner/?blogsub=confirming#subscribe-blog

 

I know I haven't written in this blog in forever. I'm maintaining another blog about divorce due to abuse, adultery and (porn) addiction, and I have shared Kristen's blog there as well. But I thought it important to add this to my more pasteurized blog because it's an important subject for today--well, tomorrow, too. . . any day, really.

 

Please take heed.

 

This is one of the best blogs I've read so far about the disgusting movie that is opening on Valentine's Day.

Below are some quotes I loved from this blog post. Okay, so I quoted almost her whole blog post, but this is really good stuff, and so appropriate for my own blog about Abuse, Adultery, Addiction--and how to rise up from the ashes of Abuse, Adultery and (Porn) Addiction.

And I didn't quote everything, of course. You can click on the link above to go and read it for yourself. She is a very clever writer and brings up so many good points about pornography, consent, victimization, and so on. She does not write PC about this subject, which I really like.

Satan's Pandora's Box has been opened by 100 million people who bought the book, 250 million people who viewed the movie trailer, and people who already spent $60 million dollars in tickets before it's even in the theater. This makes me want to cry, really.

My dream is that the women in the theater audiences will get up and walk out. (Is it too much to dream that real men would walk out, too?) It's a dream because women who are addicted to pornography are addicted by reading so-called romance novels. Anti-romance novels should be the moniker.

My fear is seeing these actors and others affiliated with the movie walk up the red carpet and up the stairs to accept an Oscar. Satan's victory complete. I will be throwing up, and not in my mouth.

My soapbox (and my divorce blog) is built upon these sordid subjects and I've been plying Facebook with links to other blogs and articles. Some might say speaking about the book/movie gives it more publicity, but the Edmund Burke quote has been on my mind and I can't be quiet or sit still:
“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”
Enjoy these thoughts from "Kristen Lamb's Blog" and really think about them.

 

-Nothing says I love you like predatory emotional manipulation, sociopathy, abuse and non-consensual sex acts.

-And yes, I know there have been other kinky books like this, but 50 Shades sold over 100 million copies and the movie (despite ZERO plot) is expected to gross in excess of $60 million which means I just threw up a little in my mouth this “story” has tipped from fringe to mainstream and that scares me more than a little bit.

-Grey doesn’t choose Ana because she is a confident, assured woman who can emotionally handle this sort of contract, um relationship, um abus…ok, hell I got nothing. A confident woman would have told him where to put his private jet.

 

-But women have faced thousands of years of not being able to defend themselves against victimization and rape and now we have a cultural phenomenon that is redefining sex and blurring the lines of consent (which are already pretty damn blurry, especially after a drunken frat party).

 

-It’s Grey’s lines like, “I don’t do romance” that kinda more than piss me off. Women used to be worthy of courtship and eventually a ring and a commitment.

 

-I remember living across from a young couple and the pretty blonde had been living with this jerk guy for EIGHT years. She wanted to be married and he wanted all the benefits of a marriage without any of the legal obligations . . .

-Characters like Ana have opened a WHOLE ‘notha can of worms when she refuses to tell Grey NO or to stop or even that he’s crossing a line and hurting her because “then she’d lose him” *gags* and tolerates the intolerable.

-How in 50 Shades of HELL is this remotely acceptable?

 



Not In Your Face

 I have "face blindness," also called prosopagnosia. It's interesting I only found out about this since I moved to Utah.

A few years ago, I was at a writer's conference boot camp. The mentor at my table apologized if she didn't recognize us if she ran into us during the conference. I didn't think anything of it. I knew I wouldn't recognize anyone either. I thought, "Isn't everyone like that?"

She went on to say she had "face blindness." This intrigued me. I spoke with her after our meeting and learned that she had to interact with people many times before she would recognize them again.

I said, "Me, too!" She told me she always apologizes ahead of time so people wouldn't think she was snubbing them.

What a revelation that was to me.

Though my “face blindness” is not extreme, I have a problem unless I have many interactions or have known someone a long time. And if a woman changes her hairdo or hair color, I’m doomed.

I mentioned to my daughter Jewely on Sunday how much easier it was back east to be in a ward where I knew everyone. When someone new came to church it was only one person or family to remember. I told her I have trouble recognizing faces.

There are hundreds of new people to meet in a new ward. That is a challenge for me. When I had been at my job in Utah for four months, I told my friend Bonnie I finally got a handle on who everyone was. That was with seeing my co-workers every day.

I always wondered how people could identify actors so readily in movies. I had an argument with my son Alex about an actor in a TV show. I said, "Look, it's the sidekick from 'National Treasure'."

He said, "No, it's not."

I said, "Yes, it is." Back and forth we went.

He got out his smartphone, tapped on it a few times, and showed me the actor I thought I was talking about. I looked at the TV. I looked at the phone. It looked like him.

"But I recognized his voice, too," I told my son, daunted. Alex said they did sound similar, but it wasn't who I thought. I guess it wasn't facial, but audio recognition that made me think it was the actor in "National Treasure." He had the same hair style, hair color and voice. The face was very different, I had to admit.

Describing eyes, a nose, a mouth or chin to a police sketch artist on TV detective shows always baffled me. And picking someone from a lineup? They all look alike! For me, there’s no way. I would never be able to describe someone. I would say the hair color, hair style, body shape and that would be it. The face would be a blur.

At work, I saw someone familiar in the lobby. I thought it was the cute caterer for Wingers and told her I was just getting ready to call her to place an order for an event. The woman, squinting, graciously said, "Well, let me know how I can help you with that," and gave me a funny, tentative look.

All of a sudden, I realized who she was--the cute young woman in marketing that I have worked with many times, but hadn't seen for awhile. I apologized profusely about my mistake. She must have thought I was losing it. No, lost it!

Today I attended my second meeting of the Employee Advisory Council. At the last meeting I was introduced to the marketing representative in the group who would help me make digital fliers for announcements. I worked with him via about a dozen emails over the last month. I remember thinking to myself today, "Oh, I'll get to see what Mike looks like," even though I had already met him.

Right now, I remember he’s thin, has strawberry blond hair and a beard--and glasses. I don't know if that's enough to recognize him if I see him in the elevator. I wonder now if I've been on an elevator ride with him over the last month. Yikes!

Also, at that first EAC meeting last month, a young brunette woman sat across from me. She smiled at me like she knew me. I had no idea who she was and only vaguely smiled back. We went around the table to introduce ourselves. It turns out, the week before the meeting, I had spent a whole hour, one-on-one, with her in a small, intimate conference room as she went over the nuances of the payroll time clock. (!!!) Only the week before.

Her hair was different; not like I remember.

Now, when I see her, in her cubicle, in her accounting setting and recognize her in that context, I make a big fuss over her in some way--cute shoes, pretty jewelry. I've got to make up for not recognizing her.

At one ANWA chapter meeting, I erroneously introduced one sister as another when she came to my door for her first meeting. She was gracious and politely corrected her name. I thought she was the presenter. (Insert blushing smiley face here.) Thank goodness for Facebook. I am determined now to study our chapter’s page and pictures before the meetings. Please forgive me, new members!

In my ward, I can’t distinguish people unless I’m their visiting teacher or they’re mine. I need to see the bishopric sitting up front each week or Relief Society presidency, or do something together with someone many times.

A thought came to me Sunday morning during Relief Society. I got up and bore my testimony and announced that I have Face Blindness and to “please forgive me if I don't recognize you.”

I compared it to being familiar with Deity. How will we know our Savior if we don’t make him part of our everyday lives through prayer and fasting, reading our scriptures or attending the temple? We won’t be able to distinguish when the Holy Ghost is near unless we have “met” more than once or twice and know His still, small voice.

Through trials I have developed a relationship with the Holy Ghost. His presence is palpable to me. He walks beside me, guiding me, coaching me. And, through trials, I know the Savior loves me and has carried me as I looked back to see one set of footprints. I have a testimony that my Heavenly Father loves me. He knows who I am--by name.

Trials aren’t necessary to know Deity, but we must interact every day in order to be acquainted with the countenances of divine beings.

Perhaps most people are more perceptive at discerning facial features than I am, but I’m sure, without a doubt, I will know the face of Christ when I finally see Him.

Yes, I’m sure of it.

General Conference

This morning when I woke up, I prayed that the prophet and general authorities would give talks that I needed to hear. Not only that, but I prayed that, if they did, I would hear them.
It was funny to hear Elder Uchtdorf start out by telling about a letter he received from a sister who asked him to talk about something specific. Are we allowed to do that?! I'll have to try it.
However, his talk hit home with me. Let those that have ears to hear...
I just love Elder Nelson. He is one of my favorites. I love how he talked about the body and all its organs and parts. It really made me realizee how my life--my body--is a miracle. I am thankful for all my working parts.

And our prophet, Thomas S. Monson, is just so precious to me. I love his stories and that he does all the gestures. I caught his eye at one point and he seemed to be peering directly into my soul. I have choices I can make that will steer my life.
I am grateful for all the talks that were given. I wish we could have General Conference every week...or at least every month. I so look forward to it.
And when the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang, "Oh, Thou Fount of Every Blessing," my absolute favorite hymn, tears couldn't be restrained from falling down my cheeks. I was so moved.
I look forward to the last session in a few hours.
I know I will be uplifted. I will also be sad to see it end.

Spring is Here!

Being up on a fourth floor in Murray during spring is a treat. I can look down on the west side of the valley and see ‘popcorn popping’ in all different colors on the trees in the area.


I can’t believe they are blooming this early. I started to notice all the colors coming to work on Monday.

My drive to and from work provides me time to see all the trees that bloom in Utah. Mostly everywhere are flowering pear trees with their white blossoms. Flowering plums are also prevalent with small pale pink blossoms. I’ve seen quite a few redbuds, too. That’s one of my favorites.

I haven’t seen any Japanese cherry trees around here. Maybe they don’t do well. I think I spied one weeping cherry. I think I saw a flowering crabapple tree, too, with dark pink blooms.

Until my unfortunate accident, I had big plans for my yard. There were no trees and so far I only planted one pear tree. It’s not quite blooming yet. Real estate is scarce in my small yard, so I will have to be judicious in what I choose.

I think I would like a Redbud. I love how the neon purple buds turn into big heart-shaped leaves. And they grow too tall.

I would also like to have a hydrangea tree. They grow small and compact, but I’ve seen them twenty feet in circumference in Perkasie. Beautiful. It turns from white with green tint to brownish-beige-ish in the fall. I tried to grow one in Perkasie, but there was a drought that year I planted it and it died—I thought! Apparently the roots were saved and I had lots of limbs come up and it turned into a weeping hydrangea ‘bush’ that bloomed profusely and hung over the picket fence. I loved it! I measured time by it the year I left. I said to myself, I will have to leave before my hydrangea blooms or I will want to stay. It started blooming in August, right before I left. *sigh* I can still picture it in my mind, and, thankfully, I took lots of pictures. It’s probably not even there anymore.

I also want to put a lot of butterfly bushes in my yard to attract, not only butterflies, but humming birds. They are prevalent here in the Salt Lake Valley. I can’t wait.

Unfortunately, things might have to wait this year. I don’t have a working foot to bear down on a shovel. I have scads of doctor and physical therapy bills to pay. I’d also like to get some kind of island into the kitchen. I don’t know what ‘they’ were thinking when they designed my kitchen. Everything’s in a straight line and the oven/stove and frig are far away from the sink. Having an island might help transport things, if I get one on castors.

There are still buku repairs to make. I need new doors, front and back. That will be in the $1,000’s.

I am so blessed to have my job. God is good to me. I know he watches out for me in all I do. I am his daughter and He loves me like a Father should love His children. I have seen so many tender mercies in my life since 2010. Yes, it was the worst year of my life, but out of the ashes of tragedy came the conquering phoenix.

I love Utah. I’m glad I live here. I’m having fun making friends and seeing old friends—and renewing old friendships.

I am blessed. I know it. I am thankful. I am happy. I am healthy.

Rachel Harrie's First Campaigner Challenge

Rachel Harrie's blog had a challenge to write a short story/flash fiction in 200 words or less, excluding the title. We had to begin with the words "Shadows crept across the wall."

As an additional challenge, we could do one or more of the following:

• end the story with the words "everything faded."
• include the word 'orange' in the story
• write in the same genre I normally write
• make the story 200 words exactly

I tried to do all four, but I don't have a 'usual' genre. I don't even know what genre I used. It just flowed out of me. I didn't know where I was going to go.

If you like it, please go there and see how I'm doing. I'll be in the 150 numbers, I think. That is, if I posted correctly.  If not, oh well...it was a challenge.

 

It Just Happened

Shadows crept across the wall of my back yard this evening as the sun retreated slowly to the west.

I considered the day, a beautiful one to garden, with low humidity and dense white clouds to veil the bright sunshine; so unlike my former home in the east.
I had forgotten how much I loved to get my hands in loamy earth.
It had been years since I endeavored to wield a shovel.
I didn’t want the night’s coming darkness to end my gaze on climbing climatis, yellow-orange rudbeckias and crimson roses.

The move to Utah, land of towering mountains and arid climate, was perfect for me.

I rediscovered myself here after my unfortunate divorce and realized I actually like myself, I like spending time with my inner child, and, oh, I love my gardens.
I carved out a few in my small plot of land.
My land.
My house.
These things are now of one.
There is no twain; no more vows or sharing.
The more I ventured toward my new horizons, the more I acquired a semblance of place and present.
I discovered my life is new.
What was is past.
I hardly noticed when everything faded.

2011--Oh, What a Year!

So, 2010 was a horrendous year for me--finding out about husband's shenanigans; deciding to leave him (good riddance!).  I consider it the longest year of my life.  I didn't realize how much I would miss my friends and family in Pennsylvania.  I figured, there's only one way to go--UP-- right?  2011 can only be better.
And it was...until September 3rd.
So, let's see what has happened this year...

January, 2011--still living with Meyersons (bless them abundantly, Lord) * found a house * thankful for my job

February, 2011--bought my house February 10th * moved in February 19th * was greeted by the many good people of the Midvale East 2nd Ward

March, 2011--Zannah's wedding on March 11th, my birthday * got my divorce notice (YAY!)

Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas C. Trujillo
Sealed in the Salt Lake Temple March 11, 2011

April, 2011--Alex moved in with me to live in my basement apartment

This is a terrible picture of Alex, but the only one I have at the moment

May, 2011--started planning and planting my garden--total bliss! * called as Sunbeam teacher at church * joined the Old Glory Vintage Dance group (it's so much fun!)

My back garden in May

June, 2011--helped with the Tour de Cure bike ride sponsored by SelectHealth * fell in love with Brigham City * went to the Utah Arts Festival in SLC with Zannah and Nick (so fun!). There was a whole display of a Knit-a-thon (crochet, too) where everything was covered in knitted or crocheted yarn--trees, parking meters, bicycles--even a whole car!  We also saw a performance by Ballet West, which is why Zannah wanted to go.  We rode Trax and had a great time.

Tour de Cure riders getting ready to ride. Beautiful backdrop.

I didn't realize I got the temple in the background. It was several blocks down the road.
The Wild Bird Refuge was closed due to flooding.  Maybe next year!

The new Brigham City temple, under construction

They knitted everything--even a car!  That's me standing next to the car.

UTAH ARTS FESTIVAL

Zannah and Nick waiting for the ballet performance.  It was wonderful.



They knitted and crocheted trees...



...and even bicycles--poles--parking meters--everything! 
It was so fun to discover all the places and things
that had been knitted and crocheted

July, 2011--visited Jewely and James in Rexburg * visited the Campbells in Idaho Falls * stopped in at Brigham City again (why am I drawn to that place?) and saw the angel Moroni on top of the almost completed temple * went to a couple of rodeos with Bonnie (who knew I would love rodeos?)

July 4th rodeo in West Jordan. 
There were fireworks after.  That made my day complete.

Brigham City temple with Angel Moroni

August, 2011--had a Divorce Party--I mean, a "First Anniversary of My Flight to Freedom" party with my PA Pals * had visits from Theresa Sneed and Betsy Love from Arizona;  hosted a book signing for them at my house! What fun! I also went to a book signing/reception for them and rubbed shoulders with authors and editors and publishers (bliss!) * Carla and Ellen Campbell visited from Idaho (so great!); we went to This is the Place Park and to Joe's Crab Shack (YUM!); we attended Music and the Spoken Word on Sunday before they left to go home * Jewely visited for a day or two and we went to Hogle Zoo * (I can't believe I didn't take any pictures. I have to be better with bringing my camera)

September--da.da.daaahhh * while painting a tiny cut-out wall over my fireplace, the ladder I was standing on collapsed and I ended up in the ER. No break was seen on the X-rays, so it was assumed to be a bad sprain.

This was the little wall I was painting when the ladder collapsed.

This looks like a very bad sprain, doesn't it?

This is me, the day before surgery, standing and kneeling on my knee walker
in front of the little wall that Sandy painted in 15 minutes.

 October--finally got an MRI October 11th which disclosed a displaced fracture in the talus bone; surgery needed immediately; surgery on October 17th disclosed dislocated tendons and ligaments; out of work for 3 weeks * my mom flew in from Florida for a week (nice!)

November--follow-up doctor appointment November 1st; stitches out * back to work on November 7th * one-year anniversary at SelectHealth November 22nd (so grateful for my job and understanding boss)
December--started Physical Therapy December 7th; was told I am in the very beginning stages of recovery.  I may not walk without a boot until May.  I may not fully recover for 12 months.

So, I'm looking forward to spending Christmas with three out of four of my kids (and their spouses).  I can't wait to talk to my missionary on Christmas Day, so we will all technically be together that day, via technology.

The year 2011 was mostly wonderful, until Labor Day weekend.  I worked on gaining my freedom and learning who I am, forging a new identity in a new state, new city, new job.   I hope to be able to finish my book, take some creative writing classes and maybe some art classes.  I'm also thinking about taking voice lessons from my friend, Jane Kessler, if she'll teach me. 

So, I'll say again, there's only one way to go--UP--right?  Yes, I choose to believe that.

Merry Christmas 2011

One Year Anniversary at my job

I don't usually post about my job. I don't think it's appropriate. And, people have been fired for doing it. But, this is a milestone in my life, so I'm posting.

On November 22, I celebrated one year at my job at SelectHealth.
Well, I mean, there was no celebration or anything, but I was asked to post what I liked about my job.
While the people celebrating seven years and 11 years and nine years all wrote a sentence or a paragraph, I, of course, had to write my life story.

I told the person in charge to edit the verbosity (is that a word?) and I had some bullets at the end, she said, um, no, I'm sending everything (a mass email went out in my department).

This is what I wrote.

One Year Ago:
Last year was my Leap of Faith year when I left Pennsylvania with no job, no home and not knowing what was going to happen to me.
When I arrived in Utah in September, I went to work right away on the Internet finding a job.  Sometimes I would wake up and not even brush my teeth and just hit the computer and stay there until midnight.
It took about 10 weeks before I started getting prospects and interviews.  Luckily I had some temp jobs.
On the day I interviewed with Eric and Matt, I had 3 other places that I interviewed as well.  I wrote off SelectHealth.  They didn’t really appear too interested in me so I decided not to get my hopes up.

Irony:
Right after that interview, I started temping at Merit Medical in South Jordan, helping the HR department with open enrollment.  Their insurance—SelectHealth!
During that time, I got a call from Marissa Johnson in HR at SH offering me the job of office coordinator for the pharmacy department.  I was flabbergasted! I didn’t think I had a chance.  I asked for time to think about it and she gave me 48 hours.  In that time, I talked to all the SelectHealth people at Merit, asking them how they liked working there.  All I received were positive reviews.
After doing my investigation and finding out how great SelectHealth’s reputation is—#1 place to work in Utah voted upon by the employees—I realized how lucky I was to get the offer.  Benefits would kick in after a month (a real plus) and I could earn a pension on top of a 401k plan (who gets a pension anymore?).  So I called Marissa back and told her, “I accept!”

This whole year I have learned why SelectHealth is the best place to work in Utah. 
When I first arrived, I would ask people in the elevator and the parking lot, “So, you can tell me, do you really like working here?”  Everyone always replied, “YES!”  I thought it was too good to be true. Or I thought the elevators and parking lots were bugged…
There is so much employee appreciation, it couldn’t go unnoticed—free pie; a luau; Christmas presents; raffles and drawings; ice cream; community service; lunch and learn; massages...and a gym!  I joined the gym, I joined the Book Club, I get two massages a month, and I’m making new friends all the time as I take every opportunity that is offered.
I am so lucky to work in an environment that is caring and friendly.  Everyone around me always has a smile and a kind word. And I have the best boss in the whole company!! (True! I’m not just saying that!)
These last few months have been hard and I have to fight feeling sorry for my poor little self, but coming back to work actually brightened my days.  It was so refreshing to know that my co-workers care about me.  I have a little bell and flashy handlebars on my scooter and someone anonymously taped a business card to my wheel (that recently broke off) so I could be even more annoying.  These things tell me that people are thinking about me and caring about me.  It makes me feel good.
I’m so grateful to work here.

So, what do I like best?  Succinctly:
1.       The people.  They’re all good people.
2.       The environment. It’s very caring and friendly.
3.       The employee appreciation.  I don’t feel like a number here, but like a valued contributor.
4.       The opportunity to better myself through educational presentations.

Not For the Faint at Heart: spoiler alert*

So my first week back to work was uneventful, thank goodness.  Sandy drove me and picked me up on Monday.  It was all I could do to stay until 1:00.  Who knew lying around for 3 weeks would be so exhausting.  I had to use the third week to build up my stamina so I could sit upright for more than just 15 minutes.  Weird, huh?

The next day I actually drove myself to work and I wasn't so afraid. I built up to 5 hour days by Friday.  I hope I can build up to 8 hours this coming week.

There are still so many things that give me angst.  It's like learning my life all over again.  Driving, walking, typing, (and this week I will have a meeting where I have to take Minutes -- scary!).  There were actually people I work with whose names I forgot.  I thought they were new.  Silly me...

I have to say, taking a shower is very challenging.  I have to prepare everything ahead of time--towels, my clothes, crutches--and I have a shower chair that the doctor said I have to use. I'm not allowed to stand in the tub.  I use the tub in the other bathroom rather than my shower.  It's just more convenient.  And I guess I can use whatever I want. lol.  It takes me over a half hour to plan and execute the whole thing.  It's scary because I'm afraid of falling.  Like tonight, I realized I didn't have my phone with me. It was in the bedroom.  I just prayed the whole time I wouldn't fall.  Prayer works.  :)

I don't like feeling so needy.  I'm used to being independent and enthusiastic about life.  And, of course, being an analyzer, I always have to find meaning in all things.  Why did this happen? What am I supposed to learn from this?  I feel like I'm wasting my life.  I see the sunshine outside and I can't be part of it.  There's so much to do around here and I can't do anything!

So what am I learning?

Patience?  I already consider myself a very patient person.  I was a piano teacher, for heaven's sake!

Accepting service? Well, perhaps that has been hard.  I've had to acknowledge that I need help.  That is very hard for me.  Maybe tempering my pride needed work.

Or I could just leave it at acquiescing to bad luck.  My guardian angels saved me from what could have been so much worse.  Perhaps I should rejoice in that;  I am just paying the consequence of a terrible accident.

When I pray, I am always reminded of my blessings.  I have a roof over my head and food to eat (when someone brings it to me), and the warmth of a furnace and blankets and a comfortable bed.  I have a wonderful job and a boss who is understanding about my 'situation.'  I am so thankful for that!
I have good kids who are taking care of me--and people from church have been excellent.  And my friends have not forgotten me.

This morning, Sunday, and every Sunday since the beginning of September, my church service is Music and the Spoken Word.  It is so uplifting.  I love hearing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and watching the beautiful cinematography that accompanies each song. Then there is a show called Mormon Times that's very enlightening.  Then I watch a show that discusses scripture, so that is my Sunday School.  I am able to study the gospel via television, which I wouldn't be able to do back east with no BYU-TV.  I enjoy it immensely.

And getting a new Google TV was one of the best decisions I made.  I am typing, with thumbs right now, while I simultaneously watch a Harry Potter marathon on ABCFamily-TV.  Miraculous to me. So I am blessed.

I am thankful that I can crochet.  I have been stitching up a storm and the babies at the NICU will have lots of hats and cocoons for the holidays.  My son-in-law, Nick, persuaded me to set up an Etsy Shop so I did that. Who knows? Maybe someone will want to pay me to crochet? haha.  I do it as a service for the babies, but maybe this will be a way to earn money to pay for the yarn -- by selling a few things.

It is well known that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  Since I am not dead, I suppose I am getting stronger by the minute here.  Thank you, Lord, for my trials. I know that whatever I am learning now will come in handy at some time. Such is life.  I love to learn...and so I am.

* So, for those of you who are faint at heart, this is the spoiler alert.  I am posting pictures of my ankle with all the scars and stitches, so don't go any further, dear reader, if you don't want to be grossed out.  Since this is my blog and I'm trying to capture my life here, I'm posting the gross photos. :)

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Yeah, that's gonna' be ugly for awhile. At least the swelling around the sutures has gone down.
Sutures were removed Nov. 1.  This is the residue.
Ankle is still quite swollen.

The other side of my ankle is still bruised.  It really hurts to walk on my heel,
even in the boot.  I'm not supposed to put all my weight on my foot yet. 
And I'm supposed to stay in the boot to walk--with crutches.
I don't think I can walk without crutches.
It hurts too much.





I very rarely actually see my foot.  It's usually in a sock and wrapped or in the boot.  When I take a shower, I have to unwrap it, so it surprises me, too.  I'm not allowed to soak it, but just let water drip on it.  I'm also not supposed to put any cream, lotion or Neosporin-type stuff on it.  The skin is so dry.  It's like looking at an alligator when I take the sock off.  yuck!

And so the saga continues...

The Saga Continues ... and continues ... and continuess

Last night, for the first time since September 2nd, I slept with my foot unencumbered by boot or brace or even Ace...

The doctor said I didn't have to sleep with a brace if I didn't want to--so I thought I'd try it.
I actually slept on my side.  Both sides.  It was so wonderful.

After months now of sleeping only on my back with my foot held high by pillows and enclosed by a night brace or, at the very least, an Ace bandage, I slept on my side, with my right leg and foot under the covers with my other leg and foot.  It felt so good!!!  Such joy for such a small thing.

I think I'll try it again tonight, too.  This might be habit forming.

And this morning, upon awakening, I actually sat on my back chair and typed on my PC--with a keyboard!  So much better than doing it with thumbs.  Another joy.

So Sandy took me to the doctor on Tuesday for my first post-op appointment.  I prayed so hard the night before and the morning of, "Please, please, let me walk again?"

I got my stitches out--and it hurt like @#$%!  I thought she was making a new cut!  There was blood even!  I am such a baby and have a barely perceptible threshold of pain.  It is so low.

So I was fitted with a new boot, too.  It's smaller and more compact.  The one I had from the ER was too large because nothing smaller would fit my swelling ankle.

It turns out, I still have 98% of my talus bone.  Only small bone fragments were removed.  The real problem was that my tendons and ligaments were mangled.  The P.A. said they were dislocated and had to be formed around my bones and joints in the right places again.  That's why my ankle was so swollen on the right side.  Apparently they were all there and not where they were supposed to be.  He said it could only be corrected by surgery.

I am so thankful for modern medicine.  100 years ago, I would have been left for lame and used a cane or crutches for the rest of my life.  I am thankful for MRIs and Xrays and ortho surgeons who went to med school to learn how to fix me.

So, the prognosis is: 3 months on crutches and in boot, gradually putting weight on my foot until I can walk in the boot alone.  Then, ditch the crutches and stay in the boot for another 3 months.

That's 6 months!!!  By the time this is all over I will have given almost 3/4 of a year of my life to an 'unfortunate accident.'   More like a freak accident--dumb ladder collapsing...

I have another appointment at the end of the month and we'll talk about PT.  I can do some mild exercises until then, like flexing my foot and wiggling my toes.  Honestly, I'm afraid to do anything--anything, I tell ya'!!!

I also realize I never gave enough credit to my good friend, Patty.  She broke her leg right after her divorce.  Her recovery was two years.  And she had two young kids.  Who am I to whine?  (but I will anyway...)  I hope I can learn life lessons like she did.  I feel very selfish compared to her.  I just pray every day that this will be over fast.  I don't want to wish my life away, I just want to wish this pain and anguish and inconvenience away.  I want my life back.

However, this IS my life right now.  I have to live in the present, so I have to strive to do the best I can with what I have.  I am so thankful that my son lives with me.  He has been so helpful and solicitous.  He's taken many days off to accommodate my appointments and surgery and when he gets home from work (at 9:00 p.m.) the first thing he says to me is, "Can I get you anything?" Most of the time I have a list.  He has never complained.

Thank you, Father, for giving me good guardian angels so that I didn't break my arm--or my neck, for that matter.  I'm grateful that my mother made the trip from Florida to be with me the second week.  I really didn't know if I would need her here, but I did.  I'm grateful for everyone who prayed for me.  My mom said her Bible Study was all praying for me. 

Prayer works.

I am on the mend.

Six Weeks Later...the saga continues

This is as far as I got on Sept. 3rd

So, on September 3, 2011, Labor Day weekend, I decided to paint the little wall over my mantle.

"No problem!" I said to myself.

 I had bought the paint and this A-frame ladder months ago.
How did I know the thing would collapse on me? --literally!

So at the end of September Sandy painted the wall for me.

It took him all of 15 minutes.

But still my ankle/foot did not get better.

9-12-11

9-25-11

9-25-11  Who knew I had a bruse on the bottom of my foot?

....as well as all over my foot and ankle still by the end of the month?

By 10-1-11 it still didn't look much better
and the doctor discovered my toes were going out of alignment
so they had to be taped.
I know...ugly, right?

It is still bruised after a month and a half.

So, on Tuesday, October 13, 2011, I FINALLY had an MRI.  It showed a displaced fracture of the talus bone in my foot.  It was not caught on the X-ray. Apparently, these breaks are rarely seen on X-ray.

After the MRI, my doctor, the podiatrist, called me right away and told me she would make an appointment for me with an orthopaedic surgeon who specialized in this kind of surgery.

"Surgery?!"

So I saw him on Friday and I'm having surgery tomorrow.  That was quick!  The surgeon said, "I wish I would have seen you a week after this happened."

"Yeah...me, too."

(I feel like I've wasted 6 weeks of my life) except I've done a LOT of crocheting.

Yeah, crochet, scooter, recliner, TV...that's pretty much my life right now.

But the preemies at Intermountain Healthcare got a lot of cute hats and cocoons this last month and a
half.


        I even designed a new pea pod cocoon.  I hope they like it.

10-18-11

Day Before Surgery

Just me and my Knee Walker in front of the adorable wall that started this whole mess.

But doesn't it look great?

Two Weeks Ago...

Well...it's been two weeks since my accident and when I woke up today and looked at my foot, I could actually see space between my usually swollen toes.  They are still purple (and green), but they are thinner.  I'm still taking it easy today and will tomorrow, too.  I found someone to take my Primary class again.
I even hobbled outside briefly and saw the state of all my flower gardens.  *sigh*  Oh well... I won't be able to get in and weed them or prune the roses or cut some of my beautiful zinnias for a bouquet right now, but I forgot how beautiful and profuse flowers are in September.  So I took a book outside, sat in my anti-gravity chair and finished it while steeling glances at the back garden and feeling the sun and a cool wind on my body.
I read in Organic Gardening to plant Morning Glories with Sunflowers so they will grow up the lanky stalks.  I think that was a mistake.  It looks like my sunflowers are choking as they droop over with masses of Morning Glory vines encompassing them.  haha.  It's from lack of supervision these last two weeks. I went out almost every day to arrange the vines on the side fence, so they are definitely rebelling from lack of discipline.
It's really amazing what a difference a split second can make in your life.
I have decided to be positive and when people ask how I'm doing, I am saying, "Better, thanks," and then believing it.  It has made a world of difference since I was feeling sorry for myself because I can't do anything.
But I know that my Heavenly Father is watching out for me and my angels were working overtime.  When I think what could have happened and what did happen...it makes me oh, so grateful for His love.

Where were you September 11, 2001?

Since I am home nursing a sprained ankled, I have been watching all the special shows about 9/11.  Some of them I have not seen before.  All have been very inspirational--but sad.
I remember I was getting ready for work that morning.  I never watched the "Today" show, but Matt Lauer was interviewing someone and I thought he was being very curt or rude to his guest (I don't recall who it was). It was about 8:50 a.m. and I had my toothbrush in my mouth as I was watching. 
All of a sudden he said he just got word that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers.  I thought it was a little plane, like a Piper Cub type, some sort of joy riding pilot who was maybe drunk or had a heart attack...my mind raced on making excuses as to why that might happen.
I watched for a few minutes, then turned the TV off and got myself out the door.  As I was driving to the newspaper, I heard that another pilot drove into the other Twin Tower.  I thought, "What is this?  Some drunken pilot convention?"
When I hit the office, my colleagues were looking for an place of business nearby with a TV set.  The chiropractor, two doors down, had one.  Some of the other reporters raced over to see what was going on.  I stayed at my desk and listened to my headphones.  I was tuned into one of the local talk shows that was preempted by what was now being called an attack.  There were many theories being tossed around.  I kept wondering, what happened on September 11th in the past?  Was this an anniversary of some kind?
I decided I didn't want to see any of the footage, being the empath that I am.  I figured I wouldn't be able to do my job if I was picturing the whole escapade in my mind.  The radio was doing a fabulous job already of filling my mind with images I didn't want to see.
By the time I got home for the day I told the kids nobody was to turn on the TV.  So we didn't see any of the images.
That didn't stop Timmy from imagining the worse.
The next day he refused to go to school and threw the biggest temper tantrum I'd ever seen.  He finally said, through angry grunts and grimaces, body throwing and pounding arms and legs on the floor, that he was afraid to go to school; that it might be bombed.
I tried to console him by telling him that Perkasie was a very safe place and would be the last place a bomb would come, and Guth Elementary School was not a target either.  We were very safe.
Nevertheless, he refused to budge and would not go to school.
So, I let him stay home--a mental health day.  He certainly needed it.  I spent most of the day checking up on him.  He was very quiet and contemplative.
He kept refusing to go to school and it got so bad the school recommended I take him to Penn Foundation, so I called them and made an appointment with a social worker who was very good for him.  She had him draw a picture of his fear.  He drew a high tower (only one) that was on fire and there was a fire engine at the bottom trying to put out the fire.
The social worker told me he was very concerned about the little children who lost their parents.  She said she had never seen that much compassion in a 10-year-old before, that he was worried about other people, other children.
So she advised me that we should immerse ourselves into some 9/11 service.  Many had popped up in a short period of time.  As it happens, when we got back to school that day, a service project was taking place.  If you donated $1, you could write your name on, something, a flag maybe, and it would go on the wall until the whole cafeteria was covered.  The money would be sent to some 9/11 service foundation for children in NYC.
I believe that helped tremendously.  The social worker had him draw pictures to send to children in Manhattan, where she was going to be of some help to children working through the trauma.  He liked that idea, too.
It's funny that he never saw an image in our home.  We didn't watch any of the many films, news coverage, documentaries--I was afraid it would be too graphic for the children.  I guess imagination plays a big part in how you deal with tragedy.
Believe it or not, there was a family in Souderton who lost a son.  He was a chef at the Top of the World cafe, or whatever it was called, on the top floor of one of the towers.  I was given the daunting task of interviewing the man's parents.  I was flustered.  I didn't know what to do or how to act.  I could only let them speak. Everyone was hurting.  Later, it seemed, everyone knew someone who knew someone, like six degrees of separation.
And I knew several who had birthdays on September 11th.  I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have that as a birthday, until on March 11th, my birthday, the tragedy was dredged up again on the six month anniversary.  I felt horrible inside.  And my horror would only be half as horrid as someone born on September 11th who would have to live through this every year.  I was sure they wouldn't single out March 11th again--and they never did.
And so, here we are, 10 years later.  What have we learned?  What has been accomplished?
I have learned that terrorism is of the adversary.  Those who would blame God for what happened are past the mark.  I remember reading about all the people who missed being at the towers because their alarms didn't go off, they missed the train or subway, they had a dentist appointment, and so on.  That was Providence.  He saved many lives.  And all the heroes, living angels who sacrificed their own lives so others could make it out alive, were Providential, too.  No greater is one who gives his/her life for a fellow being.  There were many of them and they are in the spirit world now and we don't even know what they did.  Their glory is complete.
I pray--really hard--we don't ever have to go through that again.  I pray that Providence will again work overtime to quell those who wish harm on their fellow humans, their brothers and sisters--all of us children of a divine Father.
Please, Father, comfort those who lost loved ones during that tragic attack.  Protect those who are fighting to combat the adversary in other lands right now, that love, kindness and Your Way will win out. 
Please, Father, let us all live as we did on 9/12, in a scenario of loving brotherhood and God Bless America.

Happy Anniversary to Me

One year ago I arrived in Utah.
It has not been an easy year.
It has, frankly, been the longest year of my life.

I arrived in Sandy, Utah, at the home of my friends, Bonnie and Mike Meyerson, on Saturday, August 28th.  Jewely had come down from Idaho for Amy Smith's wedding and to see me.  I probably would have spent more time in Boulder if not for that.  As it was, I got to see Jewely for a day anyway.  And, of course, Sandy and Zannah lived here, too.  It's why I moved here.  My kids are here.

I was so blessed to live with the Meyersons.  Bonnie was my strength.  She lived through my whining and crying and feeling sorry for myself.  She was my sounding board because I really didn't have any self-esteem to speak of and had so many questions.  Is this right?  Is that normal?  I came to her a basket case.  I was having a lovely time out on the road seeing the U.S.A., but inside I was scared to death to move on to the next step, as I knew I was heading for it. She was there to comfort me and let me know that I'm a good person and a daughter of God. 

By September 1st I hit the internet looking for a job. Sometimes I would wake up and not even brush my teeth or get dressed.  I'd just get on the internet and look for jobs and apply.  I would stay like that until midnight most days.

But it paid off.  By the end of October I was starting to get calls for interviews.  In the interim I subbed at Bonnie's school and went on a few jobs for Manpower and Kelly.

By November I was getting call backs and got a temp job at a very good place, Merit Medical, for two weeks.  While at Merit, I helped the HR department through the open enrollment health insurance process.  They had SelectHealth, oddly enough, a place I had just interviewed with for an administrative assistant job in the pharmacy department.  I didn't think I'd get it, though.  But while at Merit, I got a call from SelectHealth with a job offer.  The pay was decent--more than I made in PA.  And the benefits would kick in in 30 days--a plus!  And they had a pension plan for people there longer than five years.  Hmmm...sounded too good to be true.  They wanted an answer in 48 hours.

I prayed about it, got Priesthood Blessings and really didn't feel like I got any answer.  Bonnie said sometimes, if it's obvious, why do you feel you need an answer?  Duh!  I woke up the next morning and, while praying, it dawned on me.  All the pluses were the answer I needed, especially the benefits kicking in by January 1st.  I knew this was the job God meant me to have.  I started November 22nd.

Now I could concentrate on a permanent place to live--and Zannah's wedding. Nick proposed November 30th. 

I was so blessed to have the Meyersons let me stay in their basement bedroom.  It had its own bathroom, too, and a big closet.  I was comfortable there.  I was scared to move.  But I had been scared in every single next step I had to take all year.  I was scared to decide to get a divorce.  I was scared to leave Pennsylvania and my friends and family. I knew I had gotten through the other steps.  I could get through this one, too.  I had the Holy Ghost as a comforter the whole year (still do).  He would not fail me now.

My dear friend, Lisa Clark, is a realtor and had also been there to give me advice on job hunting and just good old fashioned moral support when I needed it.  Lisa tells it like it is, and, for that, I'm grateful.  She and I began house hunting in December, before Christmas.  I had been looking on-line ever since I arrived and was able to see what was out there for me.  I went from thinking I wanted to live in a single home to townhouse to condo to twin and back to single home again.  I thought I should live in South Jordan in the Daybreak Community and Lisa and I looked there but couldn't find anything suitable in my price range.  We decided to wait until after Christmas.

In January, Lisa found a cute newer twin which met all the criteria I had for a home:  I wanted a rambler (ranch) with a finished basement--family room, bedroom and full bath.  I wanted at least three bedrooms.  I also wanted two full bathrooms on the main floor.  I didn't want a big yard to take care of.  This twin had four bedrooms--two up and two down.  It was located in Midvale, four miles from work and two blocks from a church.  It's 15 minutes from downtown Salt Lake City and about that far from the airport.  Midvale is in the middle of Salt Lake County.

It was more than I could afford, but Lisa talked the bank down to my price range and by February 10th, I was a homeowner!  I moved in February 19th, with the help of my new Elders Quorum from the Midvale East 2nd Ward--and Sandy, Zannah, Nick and Mike Barclay.  The boxes are still in the basement, but I decided nothing has to be done yesterday--or tomorrow, for that matter.

Then it was time to think about Zannah's wedding, which took place on my birthday in March at the Salt Lake Temple.  Luckily Zannah did all of the planning and I did nothing.  I just showed up.

In March, three days after Zannah's wedding, I learned that my divorce was final.  It was like I was hit with a ton of bricks when I read the letter. Marriage was important to me and I believe in the institution.  I am the kind of person who should be married.  I loved my home and wanted to give my children the continuity of a nuclear family. But they understand I couldn't stay there.  They lived there.  They knew.  I have the greatest kids.

At the end of April, Sandy moved in with me.  I love having him here.  I don't feel so alone.  We give each other our own space.  He has the whole downstairs, unless we have guests come stay with us--which, during the month of August, was weekly.  I loved it!

Meanwhile, I am still learning at my job.  I feel comfortable there.  The people I work with are very nice.  My boss is really good to me.  SelectHealth was named the best place to work in Utah by its employees four years in a row, and we are in the running for 2011.  What more can I ask for?  And my department is growing.  We are probably going to be hiring about 25 more employees in 2012, so I don't have to worry about being laid off.  In fact, before I signed the paperwork for my house, I had a talk with my boss. He told me we were growing and if anyone was going to be laid off, "...it certainly wouldn't be you," he said to me.  That made me feel good!

So...it's been one year that I've lived in Utah.  I love it here, really.  I love the climate.  It's dry, so even if it's 90 degrees, it's not oppressive.  Hot, yes, but not oppressive.  At night it's in the 60s and 70s, so I can open my windows and be very comfortable while sleeping.  And the mountains as a backdrop--priceless!  I can't imagine living where there aren't mountains now.  They are so beautiful.  I never grow tired of looking at them.

I do miss my friends and family in Pennsylvania, though.  They are still in constant contact through Facebook and email and good old fashioned phone calls--and Skype, too! 

I consider myself blessed. Thank You, Lord, for watching over me this past year.  I know there were times when I looked behind me and saw only one set of footprints.  They were Yours.

Now on to year two.