To Mask or Not to Mask

So, there is a lot of controversy as to whether or not you should wear a mask in public.  To me, the answer is simple.  Yes, you should wear a mask.  Not to protect you but to protect me.  A surgeon wears a mask when he is operating to protect the patient, not necessarily himself.  What if the surgeons decided tomorrow that they will no longer wear a mask during procedures because it is his right not to do so and it is so cumbersome.  Now, you might say that surgery is higher risk because of the open wounds that the surgeon is operating on; but we have open areas too.  We have a nose, a mouth and eyes, all portals for infection.  

Wearing a mask may not be comfortable but it is the right thing to do.  Recently, Governor DeWine has made the wearing of masks in Trumbull County mandatory.  As a law-abiding citizen it is your duty to wear a mask; it is the law.  If you don't wear a mask in public, are you any better than anyone that breaks the law?  No!  You are just the same.  What would be worse is if the people we elected to up hold the law are not "policing" the mask law just as seriously as they would police anyone who is breaking the law.  

Now, you might say that if I don't like that other people are not wearing masks that I should just stay home.  I say, if you don't want to wear a mask, which is the law, then YOU should stay home, not me.  If the truth be told, I wish nobody had to wear a mask.  I wish that Covid-19 didn't exist or that is was already well into our past; but it isn't.  It is here and we must protect the ones we love (and the ones we don't even know) by wearing a mask, washing our hands, and keeping a social distance.  It's should be our new normal for right now.  It should be your new normal for right now.

Wearing a mask is inconvenient.  Wearing it right is apparently even more inconvenient.  Remember wearing your mask on your chin is not helping anyone, you should just not wear one if you are wearing it like that.  Also, if your nose is exposed, you're still able to spread disease.  Particles come out of your nose too.

Please, to protect me and to protect the ones I love, wear a mask.  I wear one for you, even if you don't care that I do.  

Chimes of my Mind

It's not like I need anything to remind me of him.  It's not like I don't think of him day in and day out but these chimes bring him constantly to the forefront of my mind.  The chimes have a sweet melodious tone that even entices the birds to sing with them.  Maybe the birds sing in celebration of a new day, or maybe they sing just to serenade me in my hours of grief.

The chimes were a memorial gift given to me when my husband died.  They are his chimes because they bear his name.  These chimes gently sway back and forth on my deck.  Every time I hear them I have to stop and say, "Thank you God for giving me Bill to love for more than 44 years."  Its funny, I have several other chimes on my deck that have their own unique sound, but it's Bill's chimes that always catch my attention.  

Yes, Bill and I were able to spend 44 years together, 40 of which were wedded bliss.  We did almost everything together.  He had a special way he held my hand and I told him that if he were replaced with a clone, I'd know it wasn't him by the way he held my hand.  These are the things you cherish once they are no longer around.  It's the simple things that can't be bought that bring me to the point of tears.  It's not only the way he held my hand, but it also the way he said my name or the "pet" names he used to call me.  It's that special look he gave me when I was doing something silly or the way he used to roll his tongue if he was being intense about something.  He had so many mannerisms that I miss.  The chimes help me remind myself that these memories can never be taken but they are mine to hold for a lifetime.  Each sway of the chimes ring out those special things that Bill gave to me.  

Today is our wedding anniversary.  We would have been married 42 years.  Most of the time we celebrated our anniversary simply but sometimes he'd surprise me with a weekend get-away.  It really didn't matter what we did; we were together and that was all that mattered.  

Even after 2 years, I miss him so much; especially today when I remember our wedding day.  The day was filled with memory stopping moments.  My mother's house was filled with guests from out of state that came to celebrate the union of "two young kids" who were starting their lives together.  The day was filled with festivities.  I think I remember each detail.  Those chimes ringing on my deck sometimes bring me back to the exact moment; that exact moment when I looked him in his eyes and said "I do."  My commitment was for a lifetime, as was his.  

The wind chimes on my deck sometimes bring me to tears but most of the time they bring me comfort.  Strangely, I feel that it is not that wind that makes my chimes sing, but the movement of Bill's hand as he stirs memories inside of me.  

Two Years Ago

What a difference two years can make.  Two years ago today, in the early morning I went to see my husband who was in the hospital.  He looked good when I saw him.  He was witty, like he always was, he was grateful that I brought him in some underwear and his toothbrush and he was happy to see me.  He reached up and gave me a big kiss from his hospital bed.  I ran my fingers through his hair trying to tame the back from sticking up. The truth is is that he had very little hair left after his chemotherapy.  We had a good conversation about us, about the kids, about our hopes and dreams and about his illness.  He had extensive Small Cell Lung Cancer (SCLC) and the prognosis wasn't good.

Over the past few months I watched as he became a little more tired each day.  His bright green eyes had grown dim and reflected a man who was ready to meet his Maker if the time would come.  During his illness, he made peace with his Creator.  He came to know him on a higher level than I had ever seen.  He trusted God in all things.  He trusted God with his life but he was still a little fearful to leave me.  He told me he prayed about that fear of leaving me daily.  I'd say something stupid like, "we might beat this and then you'll have to live with me forever," but we both knew that he wouldn't.  He had reconciled to meeting his Maker, I had not.  I still had fight in me.

During that day at the hospital, I'd nod off briefly and he kept telling me to go home.  I had been up all night with him and the "all nighter" had taken its toll on me. I didn't want to go home.  I wanted to stay there until that evening and then go home to my empty house.  I wanted to crawl in the bed with him and cuddle him like I used to do when he was sick.  I wanted to kiss his soft lips and tell him everything was going to be alright.  But I couldn't do that in the sterile hospital room.  What would everyone think?  I wish I had crawled up beside him, damn what everyone thought.  This was my husband of many years, I had the right to hold him; but I didn't.  I simply grabbed his arm and burrowed my head in his chest.  If I was quiet I could hear his heart beat and he would do what he always did when I cuddled him like that - he'd stroke my hair or play with my earlobes.

He finally told me it was time to go home and since I was nodding off most of the time, I agreed.  I went home, fed my dogs and let them out and started to get ready for bed.

It was 9:30pm when the phone rang and a fire sensation enveloped my entire body.  I knew what the phone call was, I knew it, yet how?  He was good when I left him and he was getting ready to be transferred from ICU to IMC the next day.  The call was what I expected and I told them I was on my way.  My brother took me to the hospital with my daughters meeting me there.  It was a site I did not want to see and he had not want to happen.  He arrested and was ventilated.  I knew he didn't want to be on a ventilator but I didn't know what to do.  I cried.  I looked up at my daughters and they were crying too.  I looked back to my husband and told him.....cried to him.....I don't know what to do!  His eyes were the brightest green than I had seen them in a long time.  I looked at him for what seemed a long time but was only moments.  I screamed out, "I don't know what to do Bill, please help me."  He did.  He helped me even in his dying moments.  His heart rate decreased and I told the nurses, "no more."  They stepped back and I moved forward.  I lifted him into my arms and told my sister-in-law I wanted the tube out.  She immediately extubated him for me.  I kissed his lips.  I kissed his check.  I rubbed my hand across his bald head and just cried.  The day had started so well and ended with Bill moving into glory.

I have never met a man more loving, more kind and more humble than my husband.  He had that quiet knowledge that whenever he opened his mouth, you listened.  I once teased him that he doesn't have a bad word for anyone.  All he said is that everybody has something that's good in them, you just got to find it.  I asked him what was good in me, he laughed and said he's going to stick around util he finds it.

I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone in my life.  I can't describe the devastation that I experienced and at times, still do.  We had a dream.  Our dream was that we would grow old together.  That dream will never come to fruition.  Now all I have is memories and while I know memories are good, sometimes they are just not enough.  I still, after 2 years, long for his touch, his breath against my check, the odd way he held my hand and how he used to tug at my earlobes.  If I close my eyes tight, I can see what our future would have been, but that happens only in my dreams.

Just Like I Am

I woke up early this morning with an overwhelming attitude of gratitude.  I think that I woke up feeling renewed because God gave me a glorious day of sunshine and warmth yesterday so I could go outside and talk to my relatives at a socially acceptable distance.  I sat in the connecting back yard with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, each of us respectful of the distance we need to keep from each other.  The conversation was refreshingly "normal" in these abnormal times.  I couldn't help but think how lucky I am to have an extended family who loves me just like I am.

I am grateful for my daughters who love me enough to stay away from me since they are essential workers.  Each day, a couple of times a day, we face time to keep in touch.  It's not the same as hugging them but it's the best we have right now.  My youngest daughter and her wife buy me groceries every week so I don't have to go out to the grocery stores.  I stay 6 feet away while they bring my groceries into my house and put them away.  I am so grateful of the young women they have grown up to be and I'm so blessed that they love me just as I am.

I am grateful for my brother and his family.  They are always checking on me to see how I'm doing and if I need anything.  On Easter, my sister-in-law cooked dinner and we all ate outside keeping our distance.  I was more then grateful because it was a little cold outside and the weather threatened rain but they chose to eat in "uncomfortable" weather just so they could have the holiday with me.  The whole situation brought tears to my eyes when I got home because they didn't have to do that - they wanted to do that.  I am so grateful because they love me just as I am.  

I woke up grateful that I have two Doberman Pinschers who think I'm the best thing since sliced bread.  Each morning they greet me with tails wagging and precious kisses.  My male Dobie likes to press his head (which has some weight to it) against my leg letting me know he is there and happy to see me; my female nudges my hand with her head to make me pet her.  Maybe they like me so much in the morning because I feed them, but I like to think they love me just like I am.

I am grateful for friends who want to "Zoom" with me weekly just so we can stay in touch.  We live in different states and we were all suppose to meet up at the end of April to have some fun and fellowship in Colorado but the Covid-19 virus stopped that so we all talk on Zoom every week.  Each of us has our own cheese, crackers and wine and we share the moment with each other.  It still amazes me that I have people in my life who are not related yet still love me just like I am.

These are but a few things I am grateful for but mostly I am grateful for God who gives me life each day.  I am grateful that at this moment I am happy and healthy.  I am grateful that my children, my immediate family and my extended family are healthy and free from Covid-19 symptoms.  I am grateful for the air that I breathe and the yellow flowers that are growing in my yard.  I am grateful for the trees that are outside of my window and the birds that serenade me each morning.  All these things are given to me from God but no gift is more precious than the fact that He loves me just like I am.

Smash the Curve

I know first hand, as do most of Americans, what it's like to stay at home and not have contact with people for weeks on end.  The idea of opening up the country is enticing, but is it practical?  Is the cost of human lives equally important as increasing our economic stability?  In 1918, during the pandemic of the Spanish flu, the country opened up earlier than they should have and found it produced a 2nd wave of the flu which killed more people than the first wave.  The pandemic peaked in the US during the second wave, in the fall of 1918.  The highly fatal second wave was responsible for most of the US deaths attributed to the pandemic.  "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (George Sandayana).   Have we forgotten, or have we chosen to forget, what happened 100 years ago?

I understand that this "close down" has been hard for the small businessman, and I feel bad about that, but if I had to choose to lose my business or to lose my child, the choice would be easy.  I watch the protestors on the news holding signs that say, "My body, my choice," but it's not only your body.  Your "choice" puts the rest of us at risk.  I watch the protestors standing shoulder to shoulder, without masks and realize that they are risking our lives just by protesting together.  I have not seen protestors using social distancing.

In my opinion, the protestors are giving the first line responders a slap in the face.  While first responder are on the front line helping the sick and dying,  protestors want to open the country to more illness and dying.  Currently we have flattened the curve showing that social distancing and staying at home has worked.  Before we open up our country we have to "smash the curve" (Stephen Bannon).  We have to see a decrease in the number of Covid-19 patients, not just a plateau.  We need to make sure that a second wave of this disease doesn't rear its ugly head.

FAT

What's it like to be fat in America?  Is there a difference in the way fat people are treated?  Are the obese treated like second class citizens?  I have personal experience in both realms.  I've been fat, and I've been skinny and I have to tell you that there is a difference in how you are treated by the public-at-large.  

If a person has bulimia or anorexia nervosa, they have an "illness," and public concern for them is great.  "We must help her or she will die," is the mantra of the public-at-large.  The same is not true for the person who is on the opposite end of the spectrum.  "I can't believe she let herself go like that," is the thinking of the same public. 

Fat people are often passed over for jobs because they are not aesthetically pleasing to the population.  Rarely do you see an overweight person in the front office where people can see her.  Her skills are hidden behind company walls.  "We can't lose you in the position you are in now, you are too valuable where you are," is a kind way of saying, "you don't look the part!" Fat people are often viewed as stupid and lazy; often times having to excel far above and beyond their counterparts for jobs.

Fat Americans, whether black or white, are the most discriminated group today.  I've sat and listened to the "gossip" around the work area to find that if there is a "fat person" in the area, they are being made fun of by somebody.  Even children chime in with "Fatty, fatty, two by four; can't get through the bathroom door," with little, if any, correction from their parents.

Like I said previously, I've been on both ends of the spectrum and know that "skinny" people are treated better than fat people.  When I was skinny, I got to hear all the negative things that were said about fat people.  I got to hear the "she's so fat...." jokes that everyone within earshot would smirk at.  They must not have remembered that I was once among the fat of America.  When I was fat, I didn't hear the "she's so skinny..." jokes because usually their weren't any.  Being thin in America is the desired outcome of life. 

The Center for Disease Control (CDC) has determined that obesity is a disease just the same as bulimia or anorexia nervosa.  Each is the product of an abnormal relationship with food.  Each has their own set of problems.  While bulimics struggle with their abnormal relationship with food, so do obese people. 

The real objective isn't being fat or skinny, it's being healthy.  Eating fruits and vegetables over chips and dip is, of course, the healthier choice, but sometimes you just want the chips and dip.  It's when it become excessive that it's harmful.  Unfortunately, public opinion really doesn't care if you are healthy or not; they care whether or not you are thin.  When I think about how fat people are treated, it makes me sad.  Beneath all the fat, there is a person - a human - who longs to be treated with compassion. 

One of the things I find sad is that fat people make fun of themselves before anyone else in their presence has the chance too.  They are quick to point out their shortcomings before the public has a chance too.  The public has conditioned them to not like the way they are.    How often have we heard that fat people are "so jolly."  They're not jolly, they laugh just to keep from shedding tears. 

I've used the word "fat" in this post because it is offensive.  The truth is that it shouldn't be offensive, it is just a description.  Skinny is a description and so is fat.  Which one has the more offensive connotation?  Which one invokes the more visceral reaction?

America's Trump Card

Headlines stripped from pages tattered and torn,
Not a damn thing have we learned.
Echoing a time past that man swore would never come again has reared its ugly head taking a stronghold in a country on fragile ground.
His rancid words like golden bile fill my throat; burning the tender flesh from within. If my eyes are closed I might even feel that fine gray ash drift from the furnace and touch my eyelashes; sticking to my cheeks as I cry for what was and what I thought would never come again.

But some of America smiled and embraced all that this self-proclaimed wise man had to say. They breathed in every vile word spoken from his pursed lips. Did he not have wealth and splendor far greater than most of us could gain? Didn’t his silver pen give him the right to make all he spoke true? And some of America bowed to his wealth and his words while others dropped to their knees in honest prayer.

A country, born on the ideal that all men are created equal, is on the verge of making all that our forefathers paved, seem lame. Who would have ever thought that the poem of greater than 200 years inscribed on our icon of freedom “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door,” is slowly being morphed into “two legs good, four legs better”

But some of America smiled as those “yearning to breathe free” were suffocated by a man whose mantra belied his words, “Make America Great Again.” Once again, the white Anglo-Saxon people will rise as it is meant to be and those with alternate skin colors, religions, and beliefs are herded into encampments which we are told will make us feel safe but really is intended to keep their spirits from soaring. My soul screams out, “save from the native Americans, aren’t we all immigrants born to mothers and fathers who left a homeland to make our lives better?”

I am not looking for a revolution. I am seeking a resolution. My mind can only imagine a country moving towards an evolution of all that is diverse, living harmoniously in what used to be a great country. But a trump card has been played and many have laid down before it, eating all that has been spewed before them. Perhaps this belief that the King of Spades has laid at their feet is merely a reflection of what many people have held in their hearts. I shudder at the thought.

Growing Up

Music lost a great composer yesterday; but his songs and voice will live on forever.  I remember as a young girl hanging out at my boyfriend's house listening to John Prine on the stereo.  He had a raspy voice and spoke of social injustices and the injustices of war.  My friends would listen to him over and over in an attempt to memorize every thought he had.  Along with Prine, my friends and I listened to Dylan and the Beatles just to name a couple.  Most of our days were consumed with listening to music and it something we all enjoyed doing.  We'd discuss the various styles and influences almost as if we were being paid to do so; almost as if we had the inside edge on all the stories.  Now, John Prine is dead along with 50% of the Beatles and life has changed drastically.  We are no longer 18-year old children, we are adults struggling for the legal tender like the rest of America.  Some of us are married and some of us are divorced or widowed. Some of us have children and grandchildren. 

One of the things we are universally facing is Covid-19.  The virus has captured and quarantined all of us.  We are no longer the social creatures we are meant to be.  The Covid-19 virus has turned my general personality into an anxious, scared person.  I don't like the person I am becoming.  Last night increased my anxiety because I tried to buy groceries online and was unable to do so because they had no slots and none were available in the future.  I panicked.  I freaked because once again my independence had been taken away.  What was I to do?  For a moment I couldn't think and then I realized I had other resources that I just needed to utilize.  How long can I utilize other people before they get sick?  How will I feel then?  

I mentioned that I'm scared of this virus - and I am.  I know that there are those out there that will tell me I'm afraid because I don't have enough trust in God.  I have complete faith in God, I believe that this virus will do exactly as God will have it do; but in the meantime, I can do things to protect myself, I don't have to wait for God to put a shield around me, I can build one myself by staying at home, as hard as that is. 

Gone are the days that we just hung out and listened to music trying to figure life out; now we are the adults that are trying to figure out a national disaster.  God help us all.

A Day in the Life

I ventured out for a drive yesterday for the first time since March 22, 2020.  I thought I needed a change in scenery even if I would enjoy it alone.  I loaded up my arms with my Clorox wipes, my hand sanitizer and my camera and went to the Dog Park.  The picture above is of a man at the Dog Park.  He was dressed in his finest "hazmat" gear while taking his dog for a walk.  These are the times we are living in.  This is the fear that has become associated with Covid-19.

I got out of my car and kept far more than my 6 foot social distance from people.  I got to take pictures of people adhering to social distancing and some who had a complete lack of regard for the distancing order.  In fact, I saw a group of 6 teenagers at the park, shoulder to shoulder, eating McDonald's food.  It saddened me that they were blatantly disregarding the order.  Young people (teenagers) never think bad things will happen to them, but they do.

As I drove around Mosquito Park I couldn't help but notice that the place was virtually empty.  There were no boats docked at the marina and the Concessions were closed.  Everything was closed.  The park looked desolate except for the few fisherman who were enjoying their social distancing order.

We live in a different time right now and I'm not sure it will ever be the "way it was" again.  I think that we may be forever changed.  We are living a dreadful part of history that is bound to change the way we view things in the future; it's bound to change us.

Being at the park was wonderful.  It got me out to enjoy the fresh air and watch people interact under this Social Distancing order; but I had to get home after spending an hour and a half at the park.  I had a very important meeting at 5:00PM.  It was a date I couldn't miss; a date that I had been anticipating for 2 days.  I was meeting up with 3 friends for wine (lots of wine), cheese, crackers and grapes.  It would be a virtual meeting via Zoom, but a meeting where all four of us would be together.

The Zoom meeting was awesome!  We spend 4 1/2 hours together and it seemed like minutes.  We talked about good times and not so good times.  We talked about memories that this Covid-19 will never be able to rattle.  For a few hours, the novel Coronavirus was in the background and our friendship was in the forefront.  You see, we were all suppose to meet up in Colorado at the end of April because we all live in different states.  The plans were made and the itinerary was set, but those plans were thwarted by the evil enemy we now face.  It was a sad realization that we wouldn't be seeing each other as planned.

We did not grow up with computers and Face Time or Skype, we grew up with telephones and they weren't mobile either.  We stayed in touch by seeing each other face to face on almost a daily basis.  We kept in touch and knew almost everything about each other.  We shared good times and bad times.  We shared hopes and dreams and our future plans.  Never, did we think that we would be separated by circumstance but we were.  The Zoom meeting was just what all of us needed.

Yes, we may have drank a little too much wine, and we may have whined a little too much but for a brief period of time it felt like we were together in the same room enjoying the same food.  The only thing lacking was that human contact that I think we have all come to realize that we need so much.   

Does Social Isolation Lead to Social Distortion?

I can't remember the last day I was out of my house. I have my groceries delivered and my children go out and get the medication I need (or the dogs need).  I know for certain I have been home since the STAY AT HOME order delivered by Governor DeWine and Dr. Amy Acton.  That is my contribution to saving lives.  I do what I am told in this uncertain time of this pandemic.  I do get to watch out my window though and wonder where the lines of cars are going.  I imagine they are going to an essential job or to the grocery story to get needed items.  I can't imagine that these people are going out shopping for enjoyment's sake, are they?  I do wonder why these cars have two adults with multiple children in the cars.  Can't one parent stay at home while the other does the essential running?  I'm not in their particular circumstances so I don't really know what they are thinking so I'll just judge my own behavior and not other's behaviors. 

I have to admit, there has been more than one time I have thought that we may be facing a Microbe Armageddon.  This enemy has got us fighting a foe that can't be blasted with guns or weapons of mass destruction; it has to be fight with time and intelligence.  It has to be treated aggressively while not splattering it all over the universe.  Slowly but surely we must encapsulate this aggressor and get rid of the potential things that make it flourish.  Suffocating its lifeline can be accomplished by social distancing. The problem is that social distancing sounds too easy, until you actually try to do it.  Social distancing is not to be confused with social isolation.  Social distancing is keeping a safe, physical distance between people; social isolation is keeping an unhealthy distance mentally between you and those you interact with on a semi-regular basis.  Facetime, Skype, Zoom are just a few ways to stay in contact the best you can with those you care about.  Doing those types of social media helps break the solitude one feels when having to stay at home alone. The worst isolation is if you live alone and don't get to see ANY human contact because of social distancing.  This type of distancing without a virtual face can lead to extreme lonliness; maybe even social distortion.

In all of my 63 years, I have never seen our future so bleak in many ways but still with the hope that we will not succumb to this pandemic completely.  We have to be smart.  We have to do things we don't want to do.  We have to stay away from people we love and care about in an effort to keep them healthy and alive.  Currently there are over 2500 cases of Covid-19 in the state of Ohio with 18% not in the ICU and 8% in the ICU with 65 deaths in Ohio.  The CDC describes our co-morbidities as greater than 65, those that reside in nursing homes, lung and heart disease, diabetes, immunocompromised (including smokers), just to name a few.  Even if these things are controlled, you are at risk but if you don't care about yourself, you still are risking other lives even if you feel "great." 

I want to come on top of this a victor.  I will do my best to STAY AT HOME and do my life saving activities there.  I can do something to stop this pandemic.  We can flatten the curve like Dr. Amy Acton says we need to do.  We can make this pandemic less toxic than it is right now by STAYING AT HOME and keeping your social distance.  

Front Liners

I want to take this opportunity to give a shout out to all the healthcare men and women who are on the front line of this Covid-19 pandemic.  These men and women are fighting for OUR lives while they risk their own.  I am humbled before them.    

TMH - A thing of the Past

https://seemeye.com/2020/03/31/tmh-a-thing-of-the-past/

SHUT IN

I don't think I can take another day of being shut in my house; but the governor says it's the best thing I can do to contribute to the safety of Ohio.  While my friends in the Emergency Department and ICU are fighting on the front lines, I'm at home thinking up things to do to pass the time.  The Paramedics and EMT's fight through the lines of disease to care for people and I sit at home and watch Untold Stories of the ER on the television when I'm not watching updates about Covid-19.  I have to keep telling myself that I'm a front line defender by staying home and keeping my small part of Ohio safer by not spreading the disease.  But the thing is that I don't have the disease.  I don't have any of the symptoms but I self quarantine anyway.

I think of all the people in the ER, ICU, Paramedics, EMT's working without a fresh mask to cover their face.  They have to be content to cover their face with a week old surgical mask or a mask that has been cleaned.  It angers me that it has got this far.  Didn't we learn from China or Italy?  Didn't we watch as their PPE (Personal Protection Equipment) diminished.  Should we have started developing things to protect us before we got to this?  Why are we so far behind the 8 ball. Did we think that white privilege would be granted a reprieve from this illness?  Now we have a new name that's said so quietly it can barely be heard.  Shhhh, The United States has become the epicenter of the Covid -19 disease.  Don't say it too loud or some people might start to believe it.

My heart breaks for the first responders that have to put their life on the line every time they take care of a patient.  Covid -19 is so insidious that you can have the disease before you realize you have the disease.  Without the use of N95 masks, the spread of the disease will be high.  Just now, there is a plan in the future for health care workers to stay in hospitals/hotels/ etc. if they have been exposed to the Covid-19 virus.  Are they going to be quarantined their room? Will somebody that's able bring food to their room that they can cook in a microwave?  I don't know how that's going to work.  It looks like a mess to me, but it all looks like a mess to me. 

How did we get into this condition?  Didn't we learn anything from China, Italy, Hong Kong?  Didn't we hear their cries of ventilator shortages, mask shortages and health care workers in harms way?  Did we think that it would not happen to us.  Right now we are trading products for masks and gowns, couldn't that have happened before this pandemic caught hold of us completely. 

The president wants this "gone" by Easter.  He says the country should be back to working order by then.  I too, wish the government would have this gone by Easter, but with Ohio stating that we will have 10,000 new cases a day by the end of April, beginning of May it doesn't look like this Easter Dinner is no going to be like the ones of the past.

I keep thinking, right or wrong, that we expected the Covid-19 virus not to affect us.  Somehow, we expected it to stay on "that" side of the country which isn't as wealthy as we are.  The problem is it's here now and what do we do with it as a country?  What can we do to contain the spread of this disease.

I can tell you I am one of those "high risk person" who had been healthy but shut in my house for over 2 weeks.  I have my dogs to talk to but they really only talk about what they want to talk about.  They don't do any adult talking.  I look forward to face timing with my children (adults) and that brightens up my day for awhile. I enjoy walking around my yard when there isn't anyone else out.  I even like taking out the garbage when I have too.  But with the rain, that has even been limited.

I do get out and drive which is my only "big girl" thing I do and I was surprised to find how many golfers were at the golfing range and how many teenagers were playing basketball at the local playground.  It maddens me that I have to stay in while others can go about their business as if nothing is wrong.  Where is the crack down on that?

I wrote this because I felt sorry for myself.  I once was a front line responder and now I am retired and don't get to "save lives."  But I did learn something from writing this article.  I may not be the nurse or the doctor on the front lines, I may not be the EMT or Paramedic, I many not be one of a host of medical professionals who risk their lives everyday to thwart this Covid-19 disease.  I am a front line stay at home-er.  I follow the recommendations so that YOU don't get sick.  I hope you are doing the same.

Merlin Comes Home

This is my little grand-dog Merlin.  In this picture he is 8 weeks old and looks way bigger than he actually is.  He's a little petite Doberman Pinscher; no, he's not a Miniature Pinscher.  We got the opportunity to pick him up yesterday just under the Ohio order to Stay at Home.  He's so delightful, he's so playful and he's so sleepy; all rolled up into one.

While I could go on and on about how beautiful he is and how his breath smells like puppy breath and how his little paws are so soft, I'm not going to do that.  I'm going to talk about his ear cropping.

That "cone" on the top of his head is there to protect his ears since they were just cropped last Saturday.  Generally, the dogs ears are cropped around 7 weeks old and are put up in that cone to protect the ears and start them on their upward journey that makes a typical Doberman look like a Doberman.  Cropping a Doberman's ears have a purpose.  They are meant to increase hearing and decrease infection.  The cropping and the subsequent posting take time, but in the end it gives Doberman's the regal look that is known as the American Kennel Club (AKC) Breed Standard.

I know there is a lot of controversy when it comes to cropping the Doberman's ears and my daughter (who owns Merlin) catches a lot of flack for having a puppy that has been cropped and docked.  But, what most people don't realize is that the cropping and docking is done by the breeder before you physically get to see your new puppy.  The cropping is done under anesthesia and experiences very little pain if any.  How do I know that?  They are groggy from anesthesia but not crying after the procedure.

Now let's talk about what I consider to be the human counterpart of cropping (in a loose sense) and that would be circumcision.  The doctor takes a loose piece of skin around the penis (Doberman's loose skin is around the ears) and cuts it back to help decrease the incidence of infection.  This procedure is done about 1-3 days after birth and involves a lot of wailing. Truthfully, I can't see much difference except one is a dog and the other is a fragile human being.

Another thing I don't get is why is it anybody's business if she crops his ears and docks his tail?  Maybe she's going to show him which she would not be able to do if those things were not done.  If the cropping and docking is done humanly, like any other surgery, why would it bother people? 
We rip out the internal organs of dogs and cats when we spay and neuter them but that is for the "greater good."  Maybe cropping is for the greater good.

I can say these things because I have two Doberman Pinschers.  One is cropped and one is not.  The uncropped Dobie always has a field of dirt in his ears from digging outside; the cropped Dobie's ears are clean and yet she digs in the yard too.

My uncropped Dobie is sometimes thought to be a big ole' hound dog and people don't fear him until I let people know what kind of dog he is.  With my cropped Dobie, there is never a doubt.  I didn't buy a hound dog, I bought a Doberman Pinscher - a regal looking dog with ears that stand proud.  My uncropped Dobie came home when he was 12 weeks old; too late to crop, but we love him still.

Muddy Dogs

The pitter patter of the rain on my roof gently woke me up today followed by my Doberman Pinschers who were eager to start their day off with food and a run in my muddy fenced-in yard.  They got both food and a run and I got a mess on my kitchen floor.  I think they like to run in the mud because they know when they come in they get rubbed down with a big towel.  I used to get upset about all the mud but I don't anymore.  They live here, they make me happy and they let me rub them down to contain the mud.  What's a little mud between dogs you love? 

Dogs can sneak into your soul before you even know they are in the house.  They can love you unconditionally even while you are still deciding if they are a good fit for your home.  Once caught by a dog, they never let you go. 

Toilet Paper Blues

Supplies are flying off the shelves in the grocery stores.  People are stocking up on all the essentials they will need to survive a 14 day quarantine.  What are the essentials?  Apparently toilet paper is way up on the list.  Toilet paper is more rare than a bar of soap used to do basic hand washing.  But that's okay.  As long as I can wipe my behind, I don't really need to wash my hands, do I?

In some ways, hoarding has become more important than social distancing.  The consumer will fight long lines in a store to get that extra roll of toilet paper; sometimes standing shoulder to shoulder to get the desired item and then come home and tell themselves they are self quarantining.  "I just went out for a few items I needed then I can home and washed my hands real good."  I think we are confused as to what is essential and what is not.  If I have 20 rolls of toilet paper and live alone, toilet paper is not essential.

What we need to find essential is social distancing.  We need to maintain our distance from other people.  I understand that this may be hard because we are social people; but we have to start containing this illness and it has to start with us.  On a telephone call someone said, "I don't have to worry because I don't get sick. I'm going about my life as I usually do."  Well, how nice for you, but to how many other people are you carrying the illness?  How many other people will suffer because you don't get sick?

There is a definite spectrum when it comes to COVID-19.  On one end of the spectrum there are those people who believe that this illness is Armageddon and we are living in the end times.  On the other end of the spectrum are those who believe that this is nothing more than a hoax.  Both ends of the spectrum can be dangerous.  Armageddon hoards toilet paper, the hoax doesn't social distance.  Both are a threat to our way of life.

I understand that our way of life has changed since the COVID-19 virus has infected our nation; it really couldn't have done otherwise.  The threat is real.  The fear we feel is natural and a direct result of us being a "thinking" animal.  It's that "thinking" that's going to make us survive this pandemic outbreak.

Here is my question.  If you have 20 rolls of toilet paper and your neighbor needed a roll, would you give it to him?  Would you share your stockpile of hoarded items with others who had none?  If your answer is yes, why hoard?  If your answer is no, well then...........

Me and Martin and John

I am a dreamer

I dream that the color of my skin doesn't bother the person standing next to me.

I dream that my sexual preference doesn't makes a difference to you

I dream that people will realize that the God you serve and the God I serve are the same; the difference is when we worship.

I dream that there be no more people riddled with poverty.

I dream that all disease would be cured.

I dream of a world filled with love and serenity.

I dream that there is no more hate.

I dream that all the guns would cease and all flags would fly freely.

I dream how much the earth could carry if we all would dream....dream for something that makes a difference.

I dream

Do you?

Love is Love

https://seemeye.com/2020/03/07/love-is-love/

Rocking Chairs of Dreams

Today I woke early and Bill was on my mind, as he usually is.  I sat in the chair that I always sat in which was across from the chair Bill always sat in, but his chair was empty again.  He and I would sit in our chairs, pray, meditate and search God's will in our lives.  It was a wonderfully spiritual part of our lives and I miss that so badly.  At the end of our "session," he's smile and say, "That's it," and then he's lean over and kiss me. I'd stand and kiss his bald head.  I loved that part of our morning. 

After praying and meditating we'd discuss the world's problems and iron them all out before breakfast.  Mornings were great here and I'm so grateful to have had so many years of them with Bill before he died.  Bill and I had a "pack."  When we both retired we would buy two wooden rocking chairs and set them out on our porch and grow old together.  We'd sit on our rocking chairs and discuss our children, our grand dogs, and our life in general.  That never happened and we never bought those rocking chairs.  We were close, but life took a deadly turn and the dream ended. 
Now I go to Cracker Barrel and places like that and look at all the rocking chairs lined up on their porch and think of all the times Bill and I could have had solving the nation's problems on our own rocking chairs.  I imagine we would sit on the porch, rocking back and forth while the wind chimes surrounding us would catch a breeze and play music for us.  He'd take my hand holding it that special way that only he held my hand.  The dream now is only alive in my brain.  I will never own a rocking chair to put out on my porch.  It's just not meant to be; but I'm okay with that now because I have so many other "real" memories that no one can remove. 

Bill was a sensitive man; a tender man, who rarely raised his voice to his children or me.  He always tried to reason out problems or conflicts.  He was a peacemaker and a man God truly loved.  Bill loved life and found blessings in almost everything; but he was real with God, telling Him when he was upset with Him and when he wanted things to go in a different direction than God planned.  But Bill and I had a saying which we ended with each prayer, "Your will God, not mine."  We both believed that our Higher Power knew what was best for us and what was going to happen down the road.  He had all the blueprints, we had only a piece and we tried to draft the whole blueprint from the tiny piece we were given. 

This morning is one of those mornings when I look at his empty chair and wonder why.  After almost two years, if I close my eyes, I can still hear his voice whispering in my ear, I can feel his soft lips on mine and I feel our two hearts beating together, then I open my eyes and it's all gone, except for the memory which will remain with me forever.  My throat fills with a lump I can't swallow away but no tears flow from my eyes today.  Not today, maybe tomorrow.

Alcoholism and Beyond

So, I was affected by someone else's drinking.  I'm not sure, but I think that's the first time I've come out and said it like that.  My husband drank alcoholically for 12 years of our 44 years together; and the drinking came 24 years after we began our relationship together.  His drinking blind sighted me.  It creeped up on me.  At first, all I could tell is that I didn't like the way he behaved when he drank, then I didn't like the way I behaved when he drank.  Then, I didn't like the way I behaved whether he was drinking or not.  At the end of his drinking and at the beginning of his sobriety, I'd criticize my husband at the drop of a hat; almost like it was my job to do so.  I began to hate the person I was and I blamed it all on alcohol, except I didn't drink.

I believe that alcoholism is a disease.  If you were to research, you'd find out that many public health organizations and experts believe that alcoholism is a disease.  That's not why I believe it's a disease.  I believe it's a disease because I've seen the devastation alcoholism can bring all the while the alcoholic can seem to do nothing to stop the destruction of his own life.  Alcoholism also has a familiar pattern to it as well.  Why is it that you see, so often, whole families consumed by alcoholism?  I think it is because it's a disease.  I think that some have the genetics to become a potential alcoholic while others will never become an alcoholic.  I am one that will never be an alcoholic, although I have tried.  I tried drinking myself into oblivion but was never able to reach that point in my drinking that I blacked out or altered my personality.  My obsession wasn't the alcohol it was the alcoholic.

I've given you a rough outline of the alcoholic but I'm really here to talk about me.  When the alcoholic in my life drank (or didn't drink), my personality slowly began to change.  I stopped being the fun-loving, impulsive person I was to a person who constantly was on guard "in case" the alcoholic drank.  I'd badger him about the amount he drank, what he drank, what he said, and how he behaved.  I'd badger him about the way he looked, the way he combed his hair, and what he wore.  The alcoholic in my life couldn't wake up in the morning without me badgering him about something.  I was always "on alert" so I could hide our family disease of alcohol.  I made excuses for him when he couldn't attend an event.  "He's not feeling well tonight and he couldn't come," when the truth was that he was drunk.  I kept my secret for a long time, but the truth was is that more people knew than I realized.  I was working hard at keeping a secret that most people who loved me and the alcoholic already knew.

Eventually, the alcoholic got sober through AA, which I am forever grateful for, but my behavior didn't change.  In fact it got worse.  He was "working his program" and getting all calm and meditative and it made me angry.  He did not deserve to have peace and serenity after all he had put me through.  He deserved to be full of the antithesis of calm and serene.  It wasn't until I found Al-Anon that I started to revert back to the person I was; but it has taken a long time and I'm still working on me.

Al-Anon has taught me that the alcoholic didn't do things to me because he hated or wanted to get back at me, he did those things because he was an alcoholic.  He did what alcoholics do, go through life like a tornado destroying everything in its path.  The good thing is that the destruction of a tornado can be rebuilt.  Al-Anon did that for me, it helped me rebuild me - not change the alcoholic.  I owe my sanity today to Al-Anon.

Maybe one day I'll tell you my Al-Anon story, but today I just wanted to admit that alcoholism played a major role in my life and I didn't even drink. 

I do want to say that I loved the alcoholic in my life.  He brought me a great joy both before and after he drank alcoholically.  If the truth be told and I looked real hard, even during the drinking years there was times he made me smile.

Post Hiatus

It's been eight years since I've written in this blog.  For awhile I changed over to Wordpress but now I'm going to attempt to write here and refresh this blog.

So a lot of things have happened in the eight years I've been gone but the two most notable things have been the death of my father in 2016 and my husband in 2018.  The death of these two men nearly destroyed me.

My father died suddenly in the hospital.  One minute he was up walking around and talking to us and the next minute he fell to the floor and had a cardiac arrest.  He was 84 years old but he was a "good" 84.  His mind was in tip-top shape and his body was better than most 84-year olds.  The week he died he was fixing my daughter's swimming pool.  The loss of. my father was so great that I had a "mini" break-down after all the arrangements were made, after the funeral was over, and after I took care of business.  I survived, but it was a rough couple of months.

The death of my husband so close to the death of my father was incredibly worse.  I can't explain how broken my heart was and still is.  I had never before felt such deep emotional pain.  I walked around for days not believing he was gone.  Like my father, my husband died suddenly in the hospital.  We were talking in the morning.  He was alert and happy.  He died suddenly that evening of a myocardial infarction.  On Friday he was working for his company and on Sunday he died.  I couldn't believe it.  My husband had lung cancer.  He was diagnosed in July and died in April.  Nine months from diagnosis to death.  I thought we'd have more time but the time we did have was priceless.  We were together for 44 years.  Some people don't get to live with their soul mate that long. I was still devastated when he died.  I'm still devastated now, after almost 2 years.

So now I live with my two Doberman Pinschers and memories.  Sometimes, for no apparent reason, I'll hear my husband's voice and I have to turn around to be sure he's not there.  There are rare times when I feel his lips on my forehead.  If I close my eyes and really concentrate, I can feel his breath on my skin.  When I close my eyes I can see his face before me....sometimes.

I think of my father every time I use a plastic glass that I bought for him so when the glass fell through his fingers it wouldn't shatter.  He always said that I was probably embarrassed when my friends came over and I served them in plastic glasses. I said no, of course I wasn't embarassed.   He'd smile but I'm not sure he believed me.  I'd have paper and plastic all over my house if it made him more comfortable about losing his grip; but losing his grip was something he really didn't like.

I am grateful for these and a multitude of other memories but they sadden me as well.  I miss both of them so deeply.  I miss both of them which leads me to miss my mother who died in 2000.  Death can be so consuming to those of us who are left behind.  Death reminds us that life is short and we are not invincible.

My husband lived life to the fullest, even after he was given a "death sentence" when he was diagnosed with Small Cell Lung Cancer (SCLC).  I know he'd want me to live my life to the fullest too but I can't seem to attain that right now.  Even after 22 months, I have to take things one day at at time.  Maybe one day, I'll be able to live the life my husband always said I should live.  For me to do that, I think I'll need the help of my Higher Power to get me there.