OH, THE IRONY!

I finished this painting on Wednesday, September 12. Its title is FREE FALL. A simple painting that I suppose can be interpreted in numerous ways. What I intended for it to represent is the path that one's heart takes as it swoops and curves when it is falling in love. A free fall through the beautiful sky.

And it was more than ironic when on Friday, September 14, I awoke early feeling very odd...sickly even. I blew off the dizziness, chest discomfort, and overwhelming fatigue as being caused by lack of sleep. I took my daughter to work without letting her know I was feeling poorly. During the short drive, I sent silent prayers to God asking for Him to please let me get her safely to work and to please let me make it home. Sleep would help me feel better, I was certain. Sleep did not come. More discomfort did, however. I grew restless and concerned, and it was still morning. Perhaps I was just anxious, so I checked my pulse. It had a very strange rhythm to it.

 

I called my mother. Isn't that what daughters do when they feel sick? She suggested I call my family doctor. Following her advice, I called him. He was out of town, and his nurse suggested I go to an urgent care clinic or to the hospital. Uh...no way was I going to the emergency room.

 

Because I knew I could never attempt the drive there alone, I called my husband. He was on his way to a golf outing. I truly felt bad asking him if he could come home and take me to the local care center, but I was afraid I would faint and cause a crash. I still suspected lack of sleep as being the cause of this very weird feeling I had.

 

It took the urgent care physician all of about three minutes to suggest an EKG be run. No problem. Strip from the waist up, put on the little paper gown (that is not even as thick as a paper towel), leave the opening in the front. He slapped on the little adhesive conductor things, attached the lines, turned on the machine...and within seconds he was putting nitroglycerin under my tongue. WHAAAAAT? The testing was completed just as he was telling me he was calling an ambulance. HUH? My heart was in atrial fibrillation, and there was a possibility I was having a heart attack. He inserted an IV into my arm.

 

Yes, my eyes welled up, but I did not cry. I asked my hubby to call Mom to find out the name of her cardiologist at the hospital I prefer. Then, the paramedics helped transfer me to the gurney. I told them to close their eyes so they wouldn't be forced to view old lady boobs. Stupid paper gown.

 

My first time ever riding in an ambulance. The men were very nice, and I chatted while we were on our way. I asked many questions about their job. I was scared to death, but what good does it do to get worked up about what was already happening? Talking and joking kept me from dwelling on the possibilities.

 

The ER staff was wonderful. My heart was, indeed, out of rhythm. Meds were given to me, and blood was drawn for testing of cardiac enzymes to see if a heart attack had occurred.

 

I was not allowed to come home. After about five hours, I said I was feeling much better. Couldn't I just go on home? Nooooooo, they said. So I spent Friday, Saturday, and part of Sunday being monitored, put on blood thinners to dissolve any potential clots (the additional shots of blood thinners that were injected into my stomach were charming).

 

My orders while there were bed rest. Ugh. I was allowed to go to the bathroom with assistance. Pfffft. Thanks, butno thanks. I went by myself. Late Saturday afternoon I pleaded with the doc to let me roam the hospital, and I was granted permission as long as I had my heart monitor with me. WOO HOO! Hubby and I strolled down to the gift shop. I wanted some magazines. Well, that was one fabulous hospital store, because they had a curio cabinet filled with excellent vintage and estate jewelry. My eyes instantly went to a beautiful smoky topaz (my birthstone) ring. Price was not too bad, either. Hubby ignored my lavish praise of the ring and kept walking. BUZZKILL.

 

Returning to my room, I rested for a bit, then hubby left. A-ha! On my own AND armed with a credit card. I told the nurse I was going shopping! The gift shop was open, and I am now the proud owner of an extremely lovely topaz ring. A little souvenir of an eventful (albeit frightening) weekend.

 

I have been poked and prodded and examined every which way, and the exact cause of my irregular heart rhythm episode cannot be determined. I do have a low potassium level, which the cardiologist feels may have played a role in it. Potassium supplements have been ordered. Other than that, my heart rhythm is back to normal. I am being weaned off the Coumadin (blood thinner). I just have to pay more attention to myself and not write off bizarre sensations as flukes. I think I can do that!

 

But I am uncertain I will be painting anymore pictures of hearts. ::smile::

 

Run your fingers through my soul~

I KNOW, I KNOW...

Yes, I know that today is the sixth anniversary of the horrid attack on our country. What can be said about it that has not already been said?

For me, I spent the day continuing to believe that there is far more good in this world than evil. And I will keep on believing that.

"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other." ~Rainer Maria Rilke

ETCETERA

"HE LOVES ME NOT"  

It has been far too long since I have written in this journal. I think I have had too much to say about many subjects, and I elected to remain quiet. Not that all is good or bad in my world...it just "is."

The puppy continues to grow, but she is still a cuddly thing. We had a name battle at the beginning. I disliked the name my daughter chose. Yes, it is her dog...but yours truly spends a lot of time around it. I wanted a name I liked. After maybe five or six different tries (yes, the vet said it was okay to change her name, since she was still very young), we finally settled on one we all like. Sierra. And the name suits her well.

 

My sister was taken to the emergency room with what the neurologists thought was a brain aneurysm. They saw it on the CT and MRI films. It was an ugly time for her...and all of the rest of us. We suffered horrendous flashbacks, and some seemingly forgotten memories of Daddy's brain aneurysm rupture resurfaced. After a particular procedure was performed on her, it was discovered that the aneurysm was really just a collection of blood vessels that is somewhat of an anomaly. No aneurysm. We sent up many prayers of thanks. She is doing fine. Now to bury those horrid memories...

"LIGHT COMES"

I have been painting a bit. I hope I will always have that to turn to. Good or bad results, I still like how I feel when I am fiddling around with paints or pastels.

Mom is doing okay. I need to accept that there are just some things that are never going to be the way they were. More doctor visits. More aches and pains. She is mentally extremely sharp, and a delight to be with. We girls go to lunch with her every week or two. I try to call her each day just to blab and check to make sure all is well.

 

There is a spectacular 121-acre garden/park nearby. One of my sisters and I spent a Saturday there with cameras in hand. A woodcarver had an exhibit at that time. The theme was BIG BUGS! And big bugs they were! Made entirely out of wood. Those along with the beauty that can always be found at the garden made it a grand day.

That is about all I care to discuss at the moment. Suffice it to say that I am continuing to explore and learn. That thrills me.

 

Have I mentioned how much I love my family and friends? No. Hmmm. I need to fix that. I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU.

 

My wishes for happiness in your worlds!

 

Nikki~

 

Run your fingers through my soul~

THIS...

...now resides in my home. I did not want it. I had repeatedly stated that I did not want a new dog. That I was not emotionally ready to handle having another dog after losing my poochie in December. I was adamant.

Yet my daughter brought THIS home anyway. I tried not to like this puppy. But she is a carbon copy of my beloved poochie. And I melted when I held her. I love the softness of her fur and her puppy scent. I love how small she is...for now. I love her beautiful eyes. I love her playfulness. I love how she looks when she is asleep. I hate potty training her. ::smile::

 

Oh, and my mother had her heart operation. It went very, very well. I stayed with her for a few days once she was discharged. Unfortunately, the procedure triggered an extremely painful attack of her arthritis, which has limited her ability to move around or use one of her hands. But, it should pass within a couple of weeks. I am simply grateful that her heart problems seem to have been corrected as best as possible.

 

And I am busy exploring some new things in my life. Always up for learning and discovering.

 

Life is good...even with a few bumps and bruises acquired during it.

"Buy a pup and your money will buy love unflinching." ~Rudyard Kipling

Run your fingers through my soul~

TOGETHER

Times together can be wonderful ones. The making of memories before your very eyes. Moments captured and cherished.

One of the most painful aspects of losing someone is that there are no more opportunities for new memories to be made. We are grateful for the ones we do have stored in our minds, and we fondly recall the laughter and love. During anguished times, we call upon and cling to those treasured memories like a lifeline.

 

Having lost my father five years ago (or was it only yesterday?), I have struggled with and fought the fact that I cannot create any new memories with him.

 

Well, I made a brand new one. ::beaming:: I am beyond excited. I conversed with him throughout it. I felt him with me...guiding me...helping me.

 

You see, the above painting was one of the very last ones he was working on when his brain aneurysm struck. It left him unable to draw. That painting sat unfinished on his drafting table. Incomplete. The ideas he had for its completion never to be realized by him.

 

He had to relearn how to write his name, an arduous task in itself. I bought him sketch pads and pencils. I tried to coax that fabulous artistic talent of his to come to the foreground once again. It was sad to see the pain sweep across his eyes at the realization that his brain and hand simply could not work together to once again produce beauty. The pads and pencils were discreetly put away.

 

I had wanted to finish it. I had no photograph to follow. Nothing to let me know what it was he had planned on adding to the scene. I could only see an unfinished house and an incomplete landscape. The sky and trees were expertly done by him and only needed a few more touches of my paintbrush. And then I began to make it my painting, too. I made the house the way I thought it should be. The color to my liking. Windows how I wanted them. I put a wreath on the front door to add some holiday warmth. A fence along the right side of the barn. Heavy snow atop the house and barn roofs. A driveway once shoveled but quickly succumbing to the falling snow that I added. A soft background of unblemished snow.

 

We were together again. Working together. Creating together. Being together. Making a fresh memory.   

 

And it was grand.

 

"What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. Right now." ~Unknown

 

 

Run your fingers through my soul~

PREMONITION

Whether or not people think premonitions are a bunch of hooey makes no difference to me. I know...KNOW...they are not. I have had enough of them to be able to discern the difference between a seemingly random coincidence and a strong premonition.

Sometimes I am not as sure that coincidences are coincidences at all, but instead milder, kinder, softer premonitions. But, that is not the subject of this entry. Premonitions are.

 

I get them. And when I do, my stomach churns from the lightning-swift warning. I get an almost violent and overwhelming surge of anxiety. I have been known to jump to my feet from a sitting position when a premonition strikes. My brain races to process the information the premonition has imparted. It all happens within but a few seconds.

 

Then I am left to determine what I should do about the forewarning I have been given. I COULD ignore it. Ah, but I have learned not to do that. Why? Because they are almost always correct. In some cases with immediate action on my part, I have been able to prevent the "bad" thing from playing out in its grim entirety. I stopped it in its tracks. I could give many examples that just might knock off your socks, but I am not trying to convince anyone to believe as I do. I am simply explaining me...and this peculiar trait of mine.

 

I have to admit that it stuns me when I see just how accurate the forewarning was. I have cried when all was said and done. Cried from relief that the scenario was altered to conclude with a more positive ending.

 

Not all of the premonitions that I have require action. Or maybe not instant action. They still deliver a tremendous wallop or a sensation of being physically ill, however.

 

There is one that has plagued me since December of last year. It has never left me. And it is growing stronger and stronger. I have done all I can to ensure that it does not come to pass, and I will continue to do so. Unfortunately, it is one that limits just how much I can do. I seek new avenues to circumvent its path, and maybe I have made some headway. I just have not been able to stop it. All indications are that it is proceeding, perhaps at a slower pace, but still moving. 

 

The worst part? I already know it cannot be stopped. I feel it. It hovers. It gets pushed back a step or two, then it takes a leap forward...making up its lost ground. It will happen. Nothing will stop it.

 

And I hate it. I hate that I know it is there. Lurking. Damaging. Winning.

 

"Have you ever held something beautiful and know that it will eventually die?" ~The Blind Man by The God Machine

Tags: Premonitions

MEMORIAL DAY

"These heroes are dead. They died for liberty-they died for us. They are at rest. They sleep in the land they made free, under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows, the embracing vines. They sleep beneath the shadow of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine or storm, each in the windowless palace of rest. Earth may run red with other wars-they are at peace. In the midst of the battles, in the roar of conflicts, they found the serenity of death." ~Unknown

Tags: Memorial Day