The Silver Streak

Back online, folks. Whaddya think of that? It's ben two or three years since my last confession....oops, that was wrong.

FEELING LOW

Two weeks ago I got an early morning call from the Veteran's Administration Hospital in Washington, D.C. My younger sister had been admitted, in critical condition. A veteran of WWII, she had been living in the Naval Retirement Home in Gulfport, MS., until Hurricane Katrina flooded the lower floors and knocked out the electricity. She was one of the group relocated to the Armed Forces Retirement Home in D.C. Each person could carry only two shopping bags of personal items. The rest was left behind in Mississippi.

She had been there about eight weeks when she was stricken with something, they weren't sure what. It was very stressful trying to help the doctors make medical decisions from 5,000 muiles away, especially since she hadn't signed a medical directive, indicating whether or not she wanted tubes, etc. She died the next day, so obviously I'm still dealing with the shock. I flew to St. Louis to be with my brother and other sister, and to attend the funeral. Lots of memories, and old friends who showed up to share their support. Seeing high school pals from the 1930s was an eye opener. Where did the years go? And standing in front of the house where I grew up made me wish I could sneak in and show my dauighter Martha where I used to sleep, and eat, and do my homework. Kinda makes you feel old. But, then, I am old, so what's the surprise?

Now I'm waiting for the package from Gulfport, with her personal items. Did she have a will? Nobody seems to know. There are details upon details, all of them new and strange, and all having to be dealt with, long-distance.

Folks, get your paperwork in order.

BUT HE LOOKED SO CUTE

Slap me up the side of the head. I was doing my puppet thing in the ER yesterday when I came across this really cute guy. We chatted for awhile, and I was thinking what fun he seemed to be. Then he mentioned how his past was catching up with him, and smacking his body around; seriously. Suddenly he didn't seem that attractive. Is that prejudice? Common sense?

Yesterday I added a post, and it's not there...probably just as well. It was whiny.

Daughter Sarah is after me to get a laptop. Was it Groucho Marx who said "The machine age doesn't like me?" A laptop would be just one more thing to go wrong. In the past few days, my car aerial was twisted nearly off, the lid that covers the gas cap fell off, and the washing machine started smoking. It required Christian burial. Why tempt fate with yet another gadget?

WHERE ART THOU?

Yesterday I added a post, and it's not there...probably just as well. It was whiny.

Daughter Sarah is after me to get a laptop. Was it Groucho Marx who said "The machine age doesn't like me?" A laptop would be just one more thing to go wrong. In the past few days, my car aerial was twisted nearly off, the lid that covers the gas cap fell off, and the washing machine started smoking. It required Christian burial. Why tempt fate with yet another gadget?

New Things I Just Learned

Tchockies...that's how you spell those funky little things you see in other peoples houses, and wish you owned...like old type trays from defunct newspapers...or voodoo dolls.
"Gimme the Beach Boys"........no, no, no, no. It's "Gimme the beat, boys." I don't care. I'll keep asking for the Beach Boys.
Giraffes use their tongues for a strange sexual identification....nah, I don't want to go there. Look it up.

This has been the month of destruction. My car aerial got twisted off. The lid over the gas cap fell off. My washing machine started smoking and had to be given Christian burial.The little knob that turns on the three-speed living room lamp stripped its threads and can't be replaced. But I'm walking around in one piece, so the rest is manini (Hawaiian for small...really small.)

Baton Rouge

I've spent most of my time reading daughter Sarah's blog (sarahbottinbatonrouge.blogspot.com) She's in the FEMA command post in Baton Rouge, working with Logistics. That means high class problem solver, finding equipment, getting food for workers in the field, putting in 12 hr. days, sleeping on a cot, and all the time aware of little things like the shower floor being contaminated from what people track in. Wish I had the strength to go thou and do likewise. Maybe a couple of months from now, when the Red Cross will still need people, and my hip replacement is 100%.

The hurricane is still a blur. So many people. So much misery. We, far out in Hawaii, seem untouched, though we get bad winter storms that do a lot of damage. Nothing like Katrina. Nothing.

Today I started a writing class. Hopefully I'll get off the dime and submit some of my stuff to magazines.

Aloha for now.

No nursing skills, no M.D., but I can talk. Sometimes that's the best "skill" as an ER volunteer. Yesterday an elderly couple I know came in. He had backed the car down the driveway right into her. (She was looking into the street instead of watching for him.) She was all banged up, and he was a nervous wreck. Aside from blankets for her and water for him, there wasn't much I could do but "be there." He told me today that my presence, and ability to banter with him, was the single most important factor in his being able to keep it together. You just never know. Get out there and do something, folks, anything!