I WANTED TO TELL YOU ABOUT... THIS WEEK AT THE LIBRARY...INTERNET SERVICE
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I am going to vent this morning about my internet service. I can't get at this time internet like I used to always have... that was Centurylink, the very best in my opinion. It was fast, reliable and...wonderful. They don't have it 'quite here yet'... though the neighborhood is just now, getting ready to petition for Centurylink to bring the internet this far.
When we moved February 2010, I thought since we were just several miles from town... we'd have it. I was wrong. I have to get internet service through Sprint. I have a mobile hotspot unit that I can use for wireless internet... it's more expensive to use than Centurylink where I had unlimited internet cheaper. I have 5 Bigabytes with Sprint for 59.00 monthly. It's awful, some days I can't get internet at all if it's very cloudy, or many people are on it, or for whatever reason.
Well, I ran out of my 5 gigabytes this past weekend, and have been going to the library to write my stories each morning this week. I have and haven't enjoyed it. There are about 8-10 computers in there, and it gets crowded with adults, young people and little children. People sit down next to me, coughing sneezing and I can tell they are very sick with colds. I have to be careful about getting sick with colds. I could end up in the hospital. I keep my hands away from my face, and wash them soon as possible.
I know my readers have noticed my stories being later each morning this week. I wanted you to know what has happened... and that after Saturday, this weekend... my internet data usage will begin again. I won't have this problem again. I love being home and getting up early to write each morning getting my story written, published online like I normally do. I love staying in touch with my audience, getting and reading my emails from you, and seeing any comments you've left on my blog. That means the world to me.
On Facebook, I got so many wonderful birthday wishes that I want to take my time to read when my internet is back to normal. I tried to use the last bit of data usage this week to read and answer emails... I used it all yesterday evening. All be back to normal this weekend.
Oh, the reason I don't want to go over the internet data usage is because when we moved here last February 2011.... I didn't understand how it worked... I went over the 5 gigabytes.... our bill was $474.00! I learned the hard way, and I didn't like it!
Thank-you for 'listening' to me this morning. This was on my mind. I love the library on my own terms. Anyway... Granny Gee will glad to be on her own internet... in her own home. :))) Talk to you tomorrow!
Note: Well.... as of last night our friends asked us to make up a petition for a neighbor who said she'd take it around the neighborhood for signatures to get Centurylink internet where we live... Skip and I got it typed out, signed and now, it's in our neighbors' hands to sign it. Keep your fingers crossed, mine are!!!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
RE-LEARNING... SKIP CRIED... 'RUBBER' GIRL... PROOF OF WHAT YOU CAN BEAR...
RE-LEARNING... SKIP CRIED... 'RUBBER' GIRL... PROOF OF WHAT YOU CAN BEAR...
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I turned the oven on, put the biscuits in. When it came time to take them out, I stood there looking at the bright red heater element that heats the oven. I felt confused... I was in a medicated fog, it'd been several months since I had surgery, I was still very ill.
I wanted to begin doing things again, I was tired of staying in bed or sitting. I really had no business in the kitchen, I wasn't strong enough... and it had been a 'lifetime' since I'd cooked, or cleaned. The most I'd done all this time was to get my shower, and put on a fresh nightgown.
My hands had forgotten how to do things. Everything hurt my hands. They were sensitive from all the chemotherapy treatments I'd taken over the months. My fingers felt like 'rubber'... they couldn't hold onto anything long at a time.
The chemotherapy changed how my feet, legs and hands felt. I felt like I was a 'rubber' girl. A rubber girl with a body of such pain I can't describe. I still suffer that pain every day of my life... as much as I used to hate pain, I've learned to live with it. The type of surgery I had caused it, and I had two of those surgeries!
Once Skip had given me $600.00 at Walmart... I was standing there holding the bills, each one slipped out of my fingers and I never knew it. Skip saw them and ran to retrieve them! I couldn't hold the bills, nor 'remember' to try hold to hold them. My fingers never felt the bills leave my hand......
I got the potholder and opened the oven door. I took the biscuits almost out when... my hand touched the red-hot heater element. The pain was immediate, it burned badly. I didn't immediately pull my hand away because for a brief moment... I wasn't sure 'where, why' my hand was feeling pain! I put the biscuits on top of the stove. I looked at the top of my hand stunned that I'd just burned myself.
My hand had two places that were badly burned on top of it. I just stood there not quite understanding 'why' it was hurting so bad. I looked back at the heating element inside the oven, it was red-hot. I was trying to focus on what had just happened throught the fog of the medicine clouding my mind.
The pain was great, I was feeling wet tears on my face. I touched the tears with my burned hand... the salt of my tears made the pain more intense. I didn't know at that time... the tears, the salt would burn an open wound.
I looked back to the burn on my hand... I was seeing all through a medicated fog. It was strange... it'd been many, many months since I'd been in a kitchen to cook. I was very sick, somehow I couldn't grasp 'why' my hand was hurting. I remember standing there holding my hand, looking straight at the red-hot heating element... it burned bright red. Thankfully, I remembered to reach up to turn the stove off. I was alone.
I still carry those two scars on the top of my right hand, both are about an inch long. When I look at them, I remember the 'dream-like' feeling... it was like I was reaching for something 'not knowing' it could hurt me. I wonder if this is 'how a little child feels' when it reaches out innocently to something, and it hurts him/her? So innocent, so 'not knowing'. I stop to this day at times, to think back to 'then'. I had to learn again... I know how that feels now, I've been on that path for some distance.
Each day I got up with the thought in my mind... 'do something, even if it doesn't amount to anything, just do something, I've got to get stronger'. I'd never been so weak in my life... at this time. I was at the weakest point in my entire life. I couldn't remember doing things, I could 'but, I couldn't'. I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma and 'came back from death'.
I had been sick for over a year this first time... I only knew the softness of the bed, my pillows, the materials of my nightgowns, towels, touching my pups, touching Skip's hands... nothing ever touched my hands to hurt me. The pain I knew in my body was unlike any pain I'd ever known... 'but, I knew it'... I 'knew' this kind of pain.
Skip would plead with me before he left for work to please not to do anything, please be careful, don't fall down, stay close to bed. I would promise to do as he asked everytime... 'but, knowing I was going to get stronger, and I couldn't do it staying in bed. I think Skip 'knew' I would break my promises... he always said I was 'fighter'... he told everyone that when he talked about my condition.... I heard him, when I couldn't talk for myself.
I went through months knowing in my mind that I was going to die. Skip and Tommy would buy expensive Ty Beanie Babies for my collection of beanie babies, and all kinds of things. I would sit and cry when they were out of my sight thinking they were spending money on me to make me feel better.... it was a waste, I knew I wasn't going to live...yet... I knew I wasn't giving up without a..... helluva fight! Yes, life was going to know I fought for it!
I remember telling Skip and Tommy to not buy me more expensive beanie babies, they bought the ones that were hard to find and paid quite a bit for them. My collection grew. When over a year later, and I'd become stronger... I had a very nice collection! I lost most of them in the fire that burned our home down, and we lost all of our belongings.
I never saw Skip cry until I was deathly sick, he didn't know it, I couldn't reach out to him... but, through eyes wet with tears... I could see him sitting, head bent over in his hands... crying. Skip was crying! Over 'me'. He didn't know I saw him. Skip and I have always been very close... soulmates (yes, there is such a thing). I saw Skip cry over each of our pets when they died, I saw Skip cry over Tommy. Skip never cries.........
Tommy's eyes would hold tears in them as he talked to me. Tommy loved his mama. He'd come back from Germany, he couldn't bear me to be as sick 'enough to die'. I always tried to appear stronger when he was around, I think he saw through it. I've seen my son cry... if I listen carefully in my mind... I could hear him. I don't think I want to do that now.
I remember telling Tommy, just as I told Skip the day the tree snagged my wig of my head! that from now on... we are going to find gentle, good humor in my illness. Laughter is healing. I told him just as I told Skip... 'we can find humor in good taste'... we'll all feel better. This was in reference .... to my bald head that held several little curls on top... yes, I did look like the Gerber baby... Skip called me 'his 'Gerber baby'. From then on, we'd all gently laugh about the awkward moments 'a woman has when she has a bald head!' We didn't focus on that, but, we knew from 'then on'... how handle that.
I remember one day as I look back into my 'memory bank'... I wanted to go outside and work in the flowers I once had pride in. I hadn't been outside without Skip... he'd always walk with me outside holding onto me, we would sit on the porch, or the steps. I meant to get strong enough to go outside on my own, I would be very careful.
I went outside, I was walking slowly... my body was too weak to be doing that. You have to 'know me' to understand wha I 'meant to do'. I meant to 'get well, strong'.
Whenever 'I mean to'...I'm usually going to accomplish my goal. I 'meant to live, to get well'... I wasn't ready to die. I can say honestly... I know how easy it is to die when very ill... it's only too easy 'if you give up'. I saw, and said in my mind constantly with determination 'I mean to live'. I made myself visualize things I was going to do in the near future 'that was more than I did at this moment'. Oh, how I pushed myself... in the long run, it paid off. I became strong, though in pain constantly, I was strong. It took some time to get to that point.
I had opened the back door to the porch, I held on to the door and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was shining so beautifully, I felt its heat on my face. I closed my eyes and for a moment... I savored the sensation of warmth, healing warmth... it felt wonderful. That simple little moment was a treasure to me. Golden sunshine kissing my face, I felt myself smile.
I saw a hoe sitting just off from the porch... I wanted to get it and use it to hold on to, to walk down the steps. I made it to the edge of the porch and reached for the hoe. How it hurt my body... the incision from my surgery was a large one, on my back around the whole shoulder was a 'half-moon' scar. Also, there was a rib missing, taken out during the surgery. Oh, now one can know the pain.....
I began to pull the hoe to me while holding onto the post that went to the ceiling of the porch... it 'was so heavy'. I managed to get it up on the porch to me... all the while I was bringing it up... I was trying to think 'what was so different about how it felt in my hands'.
I looked down at the hoe to see 'why' it felt so strange in my hands. I remember propping the hoe against the wall of the porch so, I could look at 'why my hands hurt'. I stood there holding both palms up close to look at them to see... I put one palm under my left palm to hold it up... I took my thumb to gently rub the left palm... it hurt!
I brought my right hand back up to place it palm-down on plam of my left hand... I gently began to rub my hand over the surface. The pain was great... I closed my hands together and held them to my chest. I noticed tears falling onto my hands... they were from my eyes.
I brought my hands up to my mouth, I held them close. My hands were too soft, too tender to touch something so hard, so strong. They weren no match for the handle of that hoe. I left that hoe sitting propped up against the wall of the porch... went back inside. It wasn't 'time' for that... not just yet.
I wanted to get strong enough for my body to hold its own again... I wanted to hold my ground in life. Somehow, I knew I would. I'm still here now... not a day goes by without that pain, my body remembers well my fight to live every day of my life when I go to move. I can never forget that, I'm reminded every day of it. But... guess what? Everything is really going to be alright. I can deal with it.
I would have never believed one's body could go through so much... and each time something else was added. I believe it now! I may be in pain constantly... but, most all the time ... I won't let you know it. I'm not going to lay down, whine and cry, nor am I going to give up. I tell Skip that I understand 'why' as a little girl 'I went to hell' to live... it taught me to be 'one hell of a fighter'... I came from the right 'family'.
Remember that saying (of course... I could get backwards!)... 'God doesn't give you any more than you can bear'. If you want to see proof of that... think of Granny Gee. I'm still here, and here are a few things I've 'beared'...... look below:
I fought for my life three years, I have non-Hodgkins lymphoma that can flare up anytime. You can't imagine the painful tests and procedures one's body goes through during this time. You wouldn't believe unless.... you've been on that path.
Skip fought for his life, he colon cancer. Twenty eight inches of his colon was taken out.
Skip had two, almost three bad wrecks.
Throught that time, we lost five precious pets from old age, one with cancer.
Our home burned down, we lost everything.
My son, Tommy, died unexpectedly.
We lost seeing Taban, Tommy's son. We lost seeing Taylor McKenzie, Tommy's daughter, our grandchildren.
Through all this time I lost 19 loved ones, my mother and my brother were among them.
I had congested heart failure, almost died, I made it!
Those are a few things that I somehow got back up from... to go on to live. I will say it again... when my son died... I almost didn't get back up, I almost didn't. I can make it now, knowing he's gone, the sadness will always be in my heart.
When a mother's child dies and she loves him with her very heart, and he's the only child.... I can't tell you what it feels like. I pray you never have to experience it. I can only say... that was worse than any cancer, and if I didn't have Skip and our Pups... I would have honestly 'let go'... that's how bad it hurt... it hurt enough for me to ....die.
Now... May 29th, this year... will be two years Tommy's been gone. I made it to 'now'. I'm going to be alright now. I was at the weakest in my life when Tommy died, I thought I was when I diagnosed with cancer. It in no way compared to losing my baby, my child, my son.
I don't waste time in questioning 'why', I live in the present, I cry, and sometimes, I feel mad, but... 'I mean to live'. I hold onto the smile in my mind, a smile like sunshine... Tommy's smile. I'm most strong... again. I have Skip and my Pups, my world. I have all I need.
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I turned the oven on, put the biscuits in. When it came time to take them out, I stood there looking at the bright red heater element that heats the oven. I felt confused... I was in a medicated fog, it'd been several months since I had surgery, I was still very ill.
I wanted to begin doing things again, I was tired of staying in bed or sitting. I really had no business in the kitchen, I wasn't strong enough... and it had been a 'lifetime' since I'd cooked, or cleaned. The most I'd done all this time was to get my shower, and put on a fresh nightgown.
My hands had forgotten how to do things. Everything hurt my hands. They were sensitive from all the chemotherapy treatments I'd taken over the months. My fingers felt like 'rubber'... they couldn't hold onto anything long at a time.
The chemotherapy changed how my feet, legs and hands felt. I felt like I was a 'rubber' girl. A rubber girl with a body of such pain I can't describe. I still suffer that pain every day of my life... as much as I used to hate pain, I've learned to live with it. The type of surgery I had caused it, and I had two of those surgeries!
Once Skip had given me $600.00 at Walmart... I was standing there holding the bills, each one slipped out of my fingers and I never knew it. Skip saw them and ran to retrieve them! I couldn't hold the bills, nor 'remember' to try hold to hold them. My fingers never felt the bills leave my hand......
I got the potholder and opened the oven door. I took the biscuits almost out when... my hand touched the red-hot heater element. The pain was immediate, it burned badly. I didn't immediately pull my hand away because for a brief moment... I wasn't sure 'where, why' my hand was feeling pain! I put the biscuits on top of the stove. I looked at the top of my hand stunned that I'd just burned myself.
My hand had two places that were badly burned on top of it. I just stood there not quite understanding 'why' it was hurting so bad. I looked back at the heating element inside the oven, it was red-hot. I was trying to focus on what had just happened throught the fog of the medicine clouding my mind.
The pain was great, I was feeling wet tears on my face. I touched the tears with my burned hand... the salt of my tears made the pain more intense. I didn't know at that time... the tears, the salt would burn an open wound.
I looked back to the burn on my hand... I was seeing all through a medicated fog. It was strange... it'd been many, many months since I'd been in a kitchen to cook. I was very sick, somehow I couldn't grasp 'why' my hand was hurting. I remember standing there holding my hand, looking straight at the red-hot heating element... it burned bright red. Thankfully, I remembered to reach up to turn the stove off. I was alone.
I still carry those two scars on the top of my right hand, both are about an inch long. When I look at them, I remember the 'dream-like' feeling... it was like I was reaching for something 'not knowing' it could hurt me. I wonder if this is 'how a little child feels' when it reaches out innocently to something, and it hurts him/her? So innocent, so 'not knowing'. I stop to this day at times, to think back to 'then'. I had to learn again... I know how that feels now, I've been on that path for some distance.
Each day I got up with the thought in my mind... 'do something, even if it doesn't amount to anything, just do something, I've got to get stronger'. I'd never been so weak in my life... at this time. I was at the weakest point in my entire life. I couldn't remember doing things, I could 'but, I couldn't'. I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma and 'came back from death'.
I had been sick for over a year this first time... I only knew the softness of the bed, my pillows, the materials of my nightgowns, towels, touching my pups, touching Skip's hands... nothing ever touched my hands to hurt me. The pain I knew in my body was unlike any pain I'd ever known... 'but, I knew it'... I 'knew' this kind of pain.
Skip would plead with me before he left for work to please not to do anything, please be careful, don't fall down, stay close to bed. I would promise to do as he asked everytime... 'but, knowing I was going to get stronger, and I couldn't do it staying in bed. I think Skip 'knew' I would break my promises... he always said I was 'fighter'... he told everyone that when he talked about my condition.... I heard him, when I couldn't talk for myself.
I went through months knowing in my mind that I was going to die. Skip and Tommy would buy expensive Ty Beanie Babies for my collection of beanie babies, and all kinds of things. I would sit and cry when they were out of my sight thinking they were spending money on me to make me feel better.... it was a waste, I knew I wasn't going to live...yet... I knew I wasn't giving up without a..... helluva fight! Yes, life was going to know I fought for it!
I remember telling Skip and Tommy to not buy me more expensive beanie babies, they bought the ones that were hard to find and paid quite a bit for them. My collection grew. When over a year later, and I'd become stronger... I had a very nice collection! I lost most of them in the fire that burned our home down, and we lost all of our belongings.
I never saw Skip cry until I was deathly sick, he didn't know it, I couldn't reach out to him... but, through eyes wet with tears... I could see him sitting, head bent over in his hands... crying. Skip was crying! Over 'me'. He didn't know I saw him. Skip and I have always been very close... soulmates (yes, there is such a thing). I saw Skip cry over each of our pets when they died, I saw Skip cry over Tommy. Skip never cries.........
Tommy's eyes would hold tears in them as he talked to me. Tommy loved his mama. He'd come back from Germany, he couldn't bear me to be as sick 'enough to die'. I always tried to appear stronger when he was around, I think he saw through it. I've seen my son cry... if I listen carefully in my mind... I could hear him. I don't think I want to do that now.
I remember telling Tommy, just as I told Skip the day the tree snagged my wig of my head! that from now on... we are going to find gentle, good humor in my illness. Laughter is healing. I told him just as I told Skip... 'we can find humor in good taste'... we'll all feel better. This was in reference .... to my bald head that held several little curls on top... yes, I did look like the Gerber baby... Skip called me 'his 'Gerber baby'. From then on, we'd all gently laugh about the awkward moments 'a woman has when she has a bald head!' We didn't focus on that, but, we knew from 'then on'... how handle that.
I remember one day as I look back into my 'memory bank'... I wanted to go outside and work in the flowers I once had pride in. I hadn't been outside without Skip... he'd always walk with me outside holding onto me, we would sit on the porch, or the steps. I meant to get strong enough to go outside on my own, I would be very careful.
I went outside, I was walking slowly... my body was too weak to be doing that. You have to 'know me' to understand wha I 'meant to do'. I meant to 'get well, strong'.
Whenever 'I mean to'...I'm usually going to accomplish my goal. I 'meant to live, to get well'... I wasn't ready to die. I can say honestly... I know how easy it is to die when very ill... it's only too easy 'if you give up'. I saw, and said in my mind constantly with determination 'I mean to live'. I made myself visualize things I was going to do in the near future 'that was more than I did at this moment'. Oh, how I pushed myself... in the long run, it paid off. I became strong, though in pain constantly, I was strong. It took some time to get to that point.
I had opened the back door to the porch, I held on to the door and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was shining so beautifully, I felt its heat on my face. I closed my eyes and for a moment... I savored the sensation of warmth, healing warmth... it felt wonderful. That simple little moment was a treasure to me. Golden sunshine kissing my face, I felt myself smile.
I saw a hoe sitting just off from the porch... I wanted to get it and use it to hold on to, to walk down the steps. I made it to the edge of the porch and reached for the hoe. How it hurt my body... the incision from my surgery was a large one, on my back around the whole shoulder was a 'half-moon' scar. Also, there was a rib missing, taken out during the surgery. Oh, now one can know the pain.....
I began to pull the hoe to me while holding onto the post that went to the ceiling of the porch... it 'was so heavy'. I managed to get it up on the porch to me... all the while I was bringing it up... I was trying to think 'what was so different about how it felt in my hands'.
I looked down at the hoe to see 'why' it felt so strange in my hands. I remember propping the hoe against the wall of the porch so, I could look at 'why my hands hurt'. I stood there holding both palms up close to look at them to see... I put one palm under my left palm to hold it up... I took my thumb to gently rub the left palm... it hurt!
I brought my right hand back up to place it palm-down on plam of my left hand... I gently began to rub my hand over the surface. The pain was great... I closed my hands together and held them to my chest. I noticed tears falling onto my hands... they were from my eyes.
I brought my hands up to my mouth, I held them close. My hands were too soft, too tender to touch something so hard, so strong. They weren no match for the handle of that hoe. I left that hoe sitting propped up against the wall of the porch... went back inside. It wasn't 'time' for that... not just yet.
I wanted to get strong enough for my body to hold its own again... I wanted to hold my ground in life. Somehow, I knew I would. I'm still here now... not a day goes by without that pain, my body remembers well my fight to live every day of my life when I go to move. I can never forget that, I'm reminded every day of it. But... guess what? Everything is really going to be alright. I can deal with it.
I would have never believed one's body could go through so much... and each time something else was added. I believe it now! I may be in pain constantly... but, most all the time ... I won't let you know it. I'm not going to lay down, whine and cry, nor am I going to give up. I tell Skip that I understand 'why' as a little girl 'I went to hell' to live... it taught me to be 'one hell of a fighter'... I came from the right 'family'.
Remember that saying (of course... I could get backwards!)... 'God doesn't give you any more than you can bear'. If you want to see proof of that... think of Granny Gee. I'm still here, and here are a few things I've 'beared'...... look below:
I fought for my life three years, I have non-Hodgkins lymphoma that can flare up anytime. You can't imagine the painful tests and procedures one's body goes through during this time. You wouldn't believe unless.... you've been on that path.
Skip fought for his life, he colon cancer. Twenty eight inches of his colon was taken out.
Skip had two, almost three bad wrecks.
Throught that time, we lost five precious pets from old age, one with cancer.
Our home burned down, we lost everything.
My son, Tommy, died unexpectedly.
We lost seeing Taban, Tommy's son. We lost seeing Taylor McKenzie, Tommy's daughter, our grandchildren.
Through all this time I lost 19 loved ones, my mother and my brother were among them.
I had congested heart failure, almost died, I made it!
Those are a few things that I somehow got back up from... to go on to live. I will say it again... when my son died... I almost didn't get back up, I almost didn't. I can make it now, knowing he's gone, the sadness will always be in my heart.
When a mother's child dies and she loves him with her very heart, and he's the only child.... I can't tell you what it feels like. I pray you never have to experience it. I can only say... that was worse than any cancer, and if I didn't have Skip and our Pups... I would have honestly 'let go'... that's how bad it hurt... it hurt enough for me to ....die.
Now... May 29th, this year... will be two years Tommy's been gone. I made it to 'now'. I'm going to be alright now. I was at the weakest in my life when Tommy died, I thought I was when I diagnosed with cancer. It in no way compared to losing my baby, my child, my son.
I don't waste time in questioning 'why', I live in the present, I cry, and sometimes, I feel mad, but... 'I mean to live'. I hold onto the smile in my mind, a smile like sunshine... Tommy's smile. I'm most strong... again. I have Skip and my Pups, my world. I have all I need.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
NAKED... A LIMB SNAGGED IT AND TOSSED IT IN THE AIR!
NAKED... A LIMB SNAGGED IT AND TOSSED IT INTO THE AIR!
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
My scalp tingled, and felt very strange. I was feeling fear, my stomach hurt. I wasn't feeling well at all. I'd been through a major surgery, and now... had begun chemotherapy. I stayed in excruciating pain, now 'this' was happening.
I had to hold on to things to walk, my body was very weak and I'd lost all my muscle tone, my mind was in a medicated fog... always. Now... 'this' was happening... there was no mistakening what was going to happen.
The oncologist told me that some of the drugs that were in my particular chemotherapy treatments would most likely make me lose all my hair. She told me that I had the option to take chemotherapy... or be like some of the women who had cancer... opt not to take the chemotherapy treatments.
The oncologist told me that I'd be surprised how many women who were so vain over losing their hair... opted not to take chemotherapy to save their own lives.
I had long curly, beautiful hair. I didn't want to lose my hair... it had taken some time to let it grow this long. Always... I got lots of compliments on my hair. I asked her did alot of those women die... she said yes, they did. It didn't take me but, several minutes to decide to have chemotherapy.
Skip was always by my side.. I never went to tests or to anything medical by myself. Skip was always there with me. He asked the oncologist 'where' could he buy me the nicest wig that would look like my hair. She told him, and when we left the office... we went there.
Skip helped me to choose the wig, one that was almost as long as my hair, just as curly. It was an expensive, human hair wig... it was beautiful and lightweight. The lady gave us a box with the wig we wanted.
We got home and I put the pretty box with the wig up... just in case... really when I would need it. I felt that scared feeling in my stomach. I didn't want to lose my hair... but, the oncologist said some of the drugs caused hair loss. I remember thinking in the past that 'cancer made one lose their hair'... that's untrue. Certain drugs will cause hair loss.
I decided I would go have my hair cut short... I had the feeling that it 'was going to begin coming out'. My scalp felt so tingley, strange.... I'd never felt this feeling before. Actually... it felt like when I placed my hand on my hair that 'my hair hurt'. The night before I'd felt this same sensation in my scalp, it hurt alot to just lay my head on my pillows. I'd never 'had my hair to hurt'.
I went to the beauty salon, I was so sad as I watched the lady cut my hair off. I'd taken such pride in my hair, it was long and beautiful, curly. I felt tears in my eyes, my nose burned inside, I wanted to cry my heart out.
The next morning I was alone, Skip had already left. I made my way slowly to the bathroom to take my shower. I got into the warm shower and began washing my hair, my scalp felt painful touching it. My biggest fear came true... my hair began coming out in my hands. I began crying.
My tears were mixed with water from my shower. I cried as I took my shower. I reached for my towel and began to dry off. I finally made myself look into the mirror... I began crying again.
I began wondering how could I go to bed tonight sleeping in a wig. I couldn't imagine letting Skip see my head without hair! I could hardly bear seeing myself in the mirror. I had never felt less than a person in my life... as I did now. I had no hair, excepting on top I had some curls left.
I put the wig on, my scalp felt awful. It was tingling and felt so uncomfortable. I almost felt like I wanted to die... how could I let Skip see my head without hair, just how could I? I knew that I had to think of something because that was sure to happen. I couldn't wear a wig all the time.
That evening skip came home, he didn't notice that I had a wig on! It looked so much like my hair. As the evening progressed, I became more upset... how could I go to bed without the wig. I was in too much pain from the surgery to sleep on the couch. I had a incision that began almost at the top of my shoulder that rounded to almost under my left arm. The pain was unbearable... my hair loss only contributed to it.
I began sobbing. Skip quickly cmae to see what was wrong. I told him that I couldn't just let him see me without hair. I was so embarassed, so ashamed. I felt him put his hand on my shoulder, when he spoke, I listened in amazement.
He told me that this was only temporary, he loved me with his heart and I meant the world to him. He told me that the loss of my hair didn't make him love me any less, that it would be growing back. What was important now... was to do all possible to get well.
When he said those words, I instantly felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off my shoulders, I took in a deep breath... I knew inside that everything was going to be alright. That night I took the wig off and placed it on its stand. My scalp felt so 'naked'... cool from the air. Now... I knew 'why' men who were bald, wore caps when it was cold! I was now... baldheaded... though I had several curls on top of my head. Skip nicknamed me his 'Gerber Baby'.
I never did get used to wearing the wig, though it was beautiful. I wanted my own hair back. I went through many weeks of chemotherapy, finished it. I began to notice that my hair was growing back!
One day we went to the lake... there were trees nearby. We were walking near them and... the unthinkable happened!
I felt my face turn red, I was so embarassed! As we walked close to one of the smaller trees... a limb snagged my wig and took it right off and ... tossed it up in the air! I felt like my dress had blown up to my waist... instead my wig was gone... leaving my scalp naked for God, and everyone to see!
I stood there... deciding whether to cry and melt into the ground from embarassment... or the thought came to my mind that this was really funny! I was thinking that if I would begin to find 'gentle, good humor' in things... all would be better. Guess what I did?
I began laughing as I watched the expression on Skip's face change to a smile! I was feeling better as I laughed! I could see Skip was so glad that I took it this way. I reached up on that limb and took my wig back and I... stuck in on my head!
I asked Skip if I had it on right... he said "no, it looks alittle sideways!" I gradually turned it until it was right... Skip's face was my mirror. I told Skip "I can't believe my hair came off!" We both began to laugh again in a 'good' way. I thought to myself that... with humor in good taste... everything is going to be alright. It honestly made everything better.
It seemed laughter in good taste gave me hope, made me know that yes, indeed my rocky path was going to get better, though it took a long time. I was on at that time in my life, the hardest path I'd ever traveled.
When we began to smile and laugh, things got better. Even when I had injections it would hurt so bad, I would smile through my tears, sometimes I reassured the technican or nurse, that it was all right... I knew it was going to hurt, but, to get well I had to get through this. Sometimes, I saw tears in their eyes.... for me. I was amazed. Truthfully... I met more 'angels' on this path, though rocky, who went out of their way to make things better for me.
That was the only time I ever lost my wig! It never got caught on anything else to make it come off. When it became time to put it up, I was so thankful. I had it shampooed, fixed, rolled it up a certain way to keep the curls 'just right'... stored it back in the pretty box. I never thought I'd have to wear that wig the following year... I did have to once again. I didn't stay in remission long.
That wig was a life saver once again... it made me look normal. People complimented it... that made me feel like an imposter. I felt the need to tell people that it was a wig... I didn't want them to think I was something I wasn't.
The wig is gone...I think we lost it in the house fire when we lost all of our belongings. You wouldn't believe all that happened to us in the past 12 years. I don't, when I stop to think about them. I can't look long, I have to go forward. I don't want to get trapped in the past, I've come too far.
I'm glad to think of one good, funny thing concerning that wig... it really was funny when that limb snagged it like that... it bounced it up into the air, when it came down... it landed right in that tree! It created a 'good' memory... when it could very well have been a 'bad' one. I'm smiling gently as I 'look back'. I hope you will, too. Everything turned out alright!
Monday, February 13, 2012
YOU HAVE CANCER!
YOU HAVE CANCER!
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I was walking to lose weight, I didn't have alot to lose. I began May 16th, 1998. I, also, decided to
quit smoking. I had smoked for years, not heavy, but... I did smoke.
I had begun chewing the Nicotine chewing gum, it was working. For several weeks I hadn't smoked and realized not smoking and walking... I should feel wonderful. I always felt wonderful whenever I
had walked in the past. I began taking my pulse and it was staying very high.. I knew something was wrong... but, what?
I kept walking, soon I had begun coughing. I thought coughing was because of an allergy to something in the air. The coughing began not long after I quit smoking. It was a light, soft cough... nothing to be alarmed about.
In June, I noticed that I had begun to feel weak. I walked across the parking lot to go into Walmart, only to feel like I couldn't make it any farther. Inside, I went to the blood pressure booth to take my blood pressure, pulse. My pulse was up to 92, my blood pressure never alarmed me. My pulse did...
I knew something was wrong......
My cough became severe, and I constantly coughed. Skip was transportation fleet manager at a local company in Raleigh, NC. Sometimes he drove a truck when drivers were out. He was gone alot but, he began to notice my cough, he noticed my weight loss and would ask me if I ate while he was gone. I told him I did.
My cousin, Jimmy, had come from Arizona to stay with us. He was there throughout the time I became deathly ill.... he came while I was in 'good health' and watched as I changed quickly over a matter of several weeks. He 'sort of' watched out for me while Skip was working long hours.
I began to stay very cold in 100 degree weather... I would lay down in the bedroom without the air-conditioner, covered under many blankets. I was so cold, I was sinking into a darkness. I can remember in the darkness that my skin itched. I itched all over, constantly.
In that darkness, I would hear Skip's voice asking me if I had eaten, and such things. I would try my best to act like I was okay.
I remember one day after my shower I was standing in the bedroom putting on a nightgown, I was so weak. Skip walked in and saw me... I saw his eyes widen in horror. At first, I didn't want to ask him why he had such an expression. I did ask.... he said he couldn't believe how quickly I'd lost so much weight. I was too sick to notice. When he had been seeing me was at night time when I was in bed, my nightgowns were long and roomy, he didn't see my weight loss.
Skip had made appointments with several doctors, one a specialist. I had begun to talk in a whisper, it
would take my breath if I spoke long.
I remember taking my showers, the steam would take what little breath I had.. away. One day the steam made me lose my breath, I began crying for Skip to help me. He was just outside the door and heard me. I was so weak, I was dying.
My journey was just beginning.... I almost didn't live to take it. Over time with the specialist and tests at Rex Hospital in Raleigh, NC...... no one could diagnose what was wrong with me. Dr. Griffith, my specialist, thought it was Sarcodosis at first. I had to go have a fine needle aspiration. My breath would barely lift the little ball in the spirometer.
The fine needle aspiration was horrible. I laid on my stomach on the bed while the doctor took a long fine needle, stuck it into my back to a mass that was on the outside of my left lung. The woman doctor who performed it became very nervous, knowing she was hurting me. She had to get someone else to come to finish it.
Later, after the procedure, I was taken to x-ray and as soon as the x-ray was taken, the nurse hurriedly made me lay down! I knew something was wrong... I asked what. My left lung had collapsed. The long needle had caused that to happen when the woman was trying to get some of the mass to send off to be biopsied.
On July 13, 1998... I was scheduled to have a thoracotomy on my left lung.... Dr. Robert Peyton did my surgery. He was a heart/thoracic surgeon. The huge mass was laying on the outside of my left lung, resting against my heart.
I was crying though I didn't know it was 'me' crying. I was in darkness and had just begun to open my eyes. Somehow I was sitting up in a chair in the unit. I could barely see Skip and the nurse who was with me. The pain, oh my God, the pain in my chest.
I could hear someone walk heavily into the room and I could sense a big person more than see her. She said her name was Dr. Deutsch in a loud, unfriendly voice. What she said next I could actually 'see in my mind in giant letters'. "YOU HAVE CANCER! I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'LL SURVIVE IT OR NOT!" It seemed like she screamed this so loud to me to make sure I heard her.
I couldn't see her for the fog in my head, the medicines, the surgery had done this to me. I do remember I began crying, I could see and feel Skip's hand on my shoulder. The nurse didn't like how the doctor had come in to tell me what was wrong.... the doctor abruptly left the room 'after she did her job'.
I didn't come out of this 'dark' world for many months. I stayed in a fog from the many medicines I had to take. I fought taking the pain medicines, afraid I'd become addicted. That made my oncologist angry at me ... she couldn't understand that I'd come from 'family' who did take 'medicines'.... I was so afraid to even 'begin'.
Needless to say.... I suffered badly from all the pain in my chest from the surgery. I suffer from the pain even now, that will be there forever....it's my tradeoff to live. Nerves were severed and such, causing
pain for 'always'. I cope with it to this day..... though I talk, laugh.... the pain is 'always there'.
I had to go through chemotherapy for months. I had CT scans often to see if the non-Hodgkins lymphoma had come back. Later it did come back inside my right lung. I had to have a second thorocotomy surgery on my right lung one year later... July 16, 1999.
I went through chemotherapy for months once again. I will write at another date about the chemotherapy, about losing my beautiful, long hair.... and losing it a second time. So many different roads I traveled on.... all from having non-Hodgkins lymphoma.
Looking back, I can see (I know this sounds so strange with all I survived).... that getting so deathly ill..... 'saved my life'. I never-ever remembered smoking a cigarette after I quit May 16, 1998.... I forgot that I'd ever smoked. I forgot that I'd done many things having to learn to do them again through those three years. I will write about those experiences later in time.
I will also, write about how people I'd always known would turn and go the opposite way when they'd see us.... once they had learned I had cancer, and almost died. Some of those people are dead now... ironic, isn't it? These are some of the people who wouldn't meet my eyes, turn and go the opposite way.
I hope that you wouldn't do that when you learn someone has been so sick... they may not be able to talk to you... if they can see you, they can 'read you' .... with their eyes. The pain is so great, no one knows unless... they've been on this path. It hurts so bad. It only makes things worse, it stays in that sick person's mind affecting their well-being.
I remember Skip always trying to keep me near him, afraid something would happen to me. He'd talk me into walking into the supermarket or a store sometimes... I remember how it hurt my heart when people that always 'thought so much of me before'...avoided my eyes... and turned away. I still see some people now... who did that.
I don't bother to do anything more than smile brightly and have a false, cheerful voice that greets them. I go my way... now, I'm the one who 'wants to get away as soon as possible'. But.... I know if I saw them as sick as I was, I would go right to them.... and care... even knowing they avoided my eyes, and turned away from me. I would for-real care with my heart.
I have non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I live in pain everyday of my life from the two thoracotomy surgeries, not the non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I only complain when some days are worse but... I wouldn't trade the pain for anything. I'm so grateful to be alive, I want to live.
I have a history of congested heart failure, the drug adriamycin affected my heart during chemotherapy. That is another tradeoff to live.... I am grateful... sounds strange, doesn't it?
People who smoke know that it's next to impossible to quit smoking. This will sound strange, when I quit smoking.... it began to help set off a chain of events that 'while I was dying'.... quitting smoking 'saved my life'. That does sound strange, also... but, it's true.
I will mention one more thing before I finish my story this morning... when I began the cough, Skip took me to an urgent care office in Garner, NC. I thank God for that urgent care doctor. We were thinking maybe I had pneumonia... again, instead of 'just allergies'.
The doctor did x-rays on the premise... I'll never forget for the first time in my life feeling alarm, real alarm that something 'bad'... was really wrong.
He said "Mr. and Mrs. Bates, I don't like what I see... there seems to be a big mass of dead cells on the outside of her left lung. He urged us to go to a specialist as soon as possible. I'll never forget how kind he was. I do remember maybe a year later... I called back to thank them for saving my life, to let that doctor know he was right. He didn't know it, nor did I... but, he was the first of many angels on my new path in my life.
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I was walking to lose weight, I didn't have alot to lose. I began May 16th, 1998. I, also, decided to
quit smoking. I had smoked for years, not heavy, but... I did smoke.
I had begun chewing the Nicotine chewing gum, it was working. For several weeks I hadn't smoked and realized not smoking and walking... I should feel wonderful. I always felt wonderful whenever I
had walked in the past. I began taking my pulse and it was staying very high.. I knew something was wrong... but, what?
I kept walking, soon I had begun coughing. I thought coughing was because of an allergy to something in the air. The coughing began not long after I quit smoking. It was a light, soft cough... nothing to be alarmed about.
In June, I noticed that I had begun to feel weak. I walked across the parking lot to go into Walmart, only to feel like I couldn't make it any farther. Inside, I went to the blood pressure booth to take my blood pressure, pulse. My pulse was up to 92, my blood pressure never alarmed me. My pulse did...
I knew something was wrong......
My cough became severe, and I constantly coughed. Skip was transportation fleet manager at a local company in Raleigh, NC. Sometimes he drove a truck when drivers were out. He was gone alot but, he began to notice my cough, he noticed my weight loss and would ask me if I ate while he was gone. I told him I did.
My cousin, Jimmy, had come from Arizona to stay with us. He was there throughout the time I became deathly ill.... he came while I was in 'good health' and watched as I changed quickly over a matter of several weeks. He 'sort of' watched out for me while Skip was working long hours.
I began to stay very cold in 100 degree weather... I would lay down in the bedroom without the air-conditioner, covered under many blankets. I was so cold, I was sinking into a darkness. I can remember in the darkness that my skin itched. I itched all over, constantly.
In that darkness, I would hear Skip's voice asking me if I had eaten, and such things. I would try my best to act like I was okay.
I remember one day after my shower I was standing in the bedroom putting on a nightgown, I was so weak. Skip walked in and saw me... I saw his eyes widen in horror. At first, I didn't want to ask him why he had such an expression. I did ask.... he said he couldn't believe how quickly I'd lost so much weight. I was too sick to notice. When he had been seeing me was at night time when I was in bed, my nightgowns were long and roomy, he didn't see my weight loss.
Skip had made appointments with several doctors, one a specialist. I had begun to talk in a whisper, it
would take my breath if I spoke long.
I remember taking my showers, the steam would take what little breath I had.. away. One day the steam made me lose my breath, I began crying for Skip to help me. He was just outside the door and heard me. I was so weak, I was dying.
My journey was just beginning.... I almost didn't live to take it. Over time with the specialist and tests at Rex Hospital in Raleigh, NC...... no one could diagnose what was wrong with me. Dr. Griffith, my specialist, thought it was Sarcodosis at first. I had to go have a fine needle aspiration. My breath would barely lift the little ball in the spirometer.
The fine needle aspiration was horrible. I laid on my stomach on the bed while the doctor took a long fine needle, stuck it into my back to a mass that was on the outside of my left lung. The woman doctor who performed it became very nervous, knowing she was hurting me. She had to get someone else to come to finish it.
Later, after the procedure, I was taken to x-ray and as soon as the x-ray was taken, the nurse hurriedly made me lay down! I knew something was wrong... I asked what. My left lung had collapsed. The long needle had caused that to happen when the woman was trying to get some of the mass to send off to be biopsied.
On July 13, 1998... I was scheduled to have a thoracotomy on my left lung.... Dr. Robert Peyton did my surgery. He was a heart/thoracic surgeon. The huge mass was laying on the outside of my left lung, resting against my heart.
I was crying though I didn't know it was 'me' crying. I was in darkness and had just begun to open my eyes. Somehow I was sitting up in a chair in the unit. I could barely see Skip and the nurse who was with me. The pain, oh my God, the pain in my chest.
I could hear someone walk heavily into the room and I could sense a big person more than see her. She said her name was Dr. Deutsch in a loud, unfriendly voice. What she said next I could actually 'see in my mind in giant letters'. "YOU HAVE CANCER! I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'LL SURVIVE IT OR NOT!" It seemed like she screamed this so loud to me to make sure I heard her.
I couldn't see her for the fog in my head, the medicines, the surgery had done this to me. I do remember I began crying, I could see and feel Skip's hand on my shoulder. The nurse didn't like how the doctor had come in to tell me what was wrong.... the doctor abruptly left the room 'after she did her job'.
I didn't come out of this 'dark' world for many months. I stayed in a fog from the many medicines I had to take. I fought taking the pain medicines, afraid I'd become addicted. That made my oncologist angry at me ... she couldn't understand that I'd come from 'family' who did take 'medicines'.... I was so afraid to even 'begin'.
Needless to say.... I suffered badly from all the pain in my chest from the surgery. I suffer from the pain even now, that will be there forever....it's my tradeoff to live. Nerves were severed and such, causing
pain for 'always'. I cope with it to this day..... though I talk, laugh.... the pain is 'always there'.
I had to go through chemotherapy for months. I had CT scans often to see if the non-Hodgkins lymphoma had come back. Later it did come back inside my right lung. I had to have a second thorocotomy surgery on my right lung one year later... July 16, 1999.
I went through chemotherapy for months once again. I will write at another date about the chemotherapy, about losing my beautiful, long hair.... and losing it a second time. So many different roads I traveled on.... all from having non-Hodgkins lymphoma.
Looking back, I can see (I know this sounds so strange with all I survived).... that getting so deathly ill..... 'saved my life'. I never-ever remembered smoking a cigarette after I quit May 16, 1998.... I forgot that I'd ever smoked. I forgot that I'd done many things having to learn to do them again through those three years. I will write about those experiences later in time.
I will also, write about how people I'd always known would turn and go the opposite way when they'd see us.... once they had learned I had cancer, and almost died. Some of those people are dead now... ironic, isn't it? These are some of the people who wouldn't meet my eyes, turn and go the opposite way.
I hope that you wouldn't do that when you learn someone has been so sick... they may not be able to talk to you... if they can see you, they can 'read you' .... with their eyes. The pain is so great, no one knows unless... they've been on this path. It hurts so bad. It only makes things worse, it stays in that sick person's mind affecting their well-being.
I remember Skip always trying to keep me near him, afraid something would happen to me. He'd talk me into walking into the supermarket or a store sometimes... I remember how it hurt my heart when people that always 'thought so much of me before'...avoided my eyes... and turned away. I still see some people now... who did that.
I don't bother to do anything more than smile brightly and have a false, cheerful voice that greets them. I go my way... now, I'm the one who 'wants to get away as soon as possible'. But.... I know if I saw them as sick as I was, I would go right to them.... and care... even knowing they avoided my eyes, and turned away from me. I would for-real care with my heart.
I have non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I live in pain everyday of my life from the two thoracotomy surgeries, not the non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I only complain when some days are worse but... I wouldn't trade the pain for anything. I'm so grateful to be alive, I want to live.
I have a history of congested heart failure, the drug adriamycin affected my heart during chemotherapy. That is another tradeoff to live.... I am grateful... sounds strange, doesn't it?
People who smoke know that it's next to impossible to quit smoking. This will sound strange, when I quit smoking.... it began to help set off a chain of events that 'while I was dying'.... quitting smoking 'saved my life'. That does sound strange, also... but, it's true.
I will mention one more thing before I finish my story this morning... when I began the cough, Skip took me to an urgent care office in Garner, NC. I thank God for that urgent care doctor. We were thinking maybe I had pneumonia... again, instead of 'just allergies'.
The doctor did x-rays on the premise... I'll never forget for the first time in my life feeling alarm, real alarm that something 'bad'... was really wrong.
He said "Mr. and Mrs. Bates, I don't like what I see... there seems to be a big mass of dead cells on the outside of her left lung. He urged us to go to a specialist as soon as possible. I'll never forget how kind he was. I do remember maybe a year later... I called back to thank them for saving my life, to let that doctor know he was right. He didn't know it, nor did I... but, he was the first of many angels on my new path in my life.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
WHITNEY HOUSTON DIED...I FELT GRIEF FOR HER
Whitney Houston ... I learned of her death this morning on tv. Forty eight years old, so young. My heart felt such sadness for her. She, like alot of my own loved ones, have fought many demons. I'm so sorry for the pain her daughter, and her mother feel. I have such compassion for what people go through, no matter what they are fighting in their life. I care. Granny Gee
Saturday, February 11, 2012
GOOD MORNING EVERYONE! :))) IT'S WORTH STOPPING FOR A FEW MINUTES TO CREATE A LIFETIME MEMORY...
IT'S WORTH STOPPING FOR A FEW MINUTES TO CREATE A LIFETIME MEMORY...
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
Good morning everyone! I put my story here last night for this morning. I woke up thinking about how nice it really was to be outside at the right time... to get to appreciate smelling that wood smoke last evening. It really was special. It's strange how something like that can take your mind back to a happy time, isn't it?
That was a special time when we stayed in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for over a month. The hotel we stayed in had a creek beside the cement walkway at the hotel. We would stand there and watch the water running merrily on its way to 'I don't know where!' I would watch it swirl around the gray rocks, making a happy 'watery, splashing' sound.
This touches one's soul when taking time to appreciate such specialness in life, nature. It's worth stopping for a few minutes to create a lifetime memory. This is a
'old' memory. See how it brought me happiness many years later? I bet you have such special memories, too.
I remember the metal bars that made a rail 'fence' along the cement walkway... the bars were so cold to touch, but, that didn't stop us from leaning over them to stand and dream for a few minutes while watching the clear water moving rapidly along its way.
I remember while at that hotel, we would walk on those hilly 'up and down' sidewalks enjoying looking at happy people's faces, hear their laughter ...they heard ours, too! I would look 'everywhere' and see the colors of the lights in shop windows, signs... so much happy stimulation to one's senses. I loved it.
It was so nice to walk back to the hotel, go inside and build a fire in the fireplace, turn the coffeemaker on... those things made for a cosy evening. We'd open the curtains to the big, wonderful windows and sliding door to let the outside come in! All the while ....being cosy and warm inside!
Yes, I am sitting here smiling as I type... it IS worth stopping for a few minutes to create a lifetime memory!
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
Good morning everyone! I put my story here last night for this morning. I woke up thinking about how nice it really was to be outside at the right time... to get to appreciate smelling that wood smoke last evening. It really was special. It's strange how something like that can take your mind back to a happy time, isn't it?
That was a special time when we stayed in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for over a month. The hotel we stayed in had a creek beside the cement walkway at the hotel. We would stand there and watch the water running merrily on its way to 'I don't know where!' I would watch it swirl around the gray rocks, making a happy 'watery, splashing' sound.
This touches one's soul when taking time to appreciate such specialness in life, nature. It's worth stopping for a few minutes to create a lifetime memory. This is a
'old' memory. See how it brought me happiness many years later? I bet you have such special memories, too.
I remember the metal bars that made a rail 'fence' along the cement walkway... the bars were so cold to touch, but, that didn't stop us from leaning over them to stand and dream for a few minutes while watching the clear water moving rapidly along its way.
I remember while at that hotel, we would walk on those hilly 'up and down' sidewalks enjoying looking at happy people's faces, hear their laughter ...they heard ours, too! I would look 'everywhere' and see the colors of the lights in shop windows, signs... so much happy stimulation to one's senses. I loved it.
It was so nice to walk back to the hotel, go inside and build a fire in the fireplace, turn the coffeemaker on... those things made for a cosy evening. We'd open the curtains to the big, wonderful windows and sliding door to let the outside come in! All the while ....being cosy and warm inside!
Yes, I am sitting here smiling as I type... it IS worth stopping for a few minutes to create a lifetime memory!
Friday, February 10, 2012
SMELLING WOOD SMOKE ON THE COLD, COLD AIR...FEEDING FISH IN THE POND
SMELLING WOOD SMOKE ON THE COLD, COLD AIR... FEEDING FISH IN THE POND
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
This evening Skip and I walked outside in the cold, cold air. We could smell the wood smoke coming from a chimney at a small nearby house. It smelled so cosy and nice. It made me think back to when we stayed in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for a while.
One night we were walking from our hotel in the town of Gatlinburg, enjoying the crisp, cold air. We could smell charcoal and the aroma of steak cooking! It was a wonderful smell, guess what we did? We began to follow our nose looking for the restaurant that had steak cooking!
We walked up and down the hilly sidewalk until we finally came to a small restaurant where the aroma of steak cooking... came from! We went inside ... it was so nice, and warm inside. The scents inside smelled delicious! We sat down at a round table with a red and white checkered tablecloth... there was a candle burning inside a pretty blue jar. How cosy this wonderful restaurant was! We could see outside the big window as we waited for our steaks to come.. how I loved looking at the colors of the neon lights. Colors soothe my soul, colors make my eyes happy!
I will tell you this... those steaks were absolutely wonderful! They warmed us up on the inside, we were ready to go back into the cold again to walk, and enjoy the night lights, listen and feel the hustle and bustle of other people who were also, enjoying the crisp night air, and shopping in the quaint little shops that were open. How happy this was! This is the memory brought to my mind this evening as we walked and smelled that beautiful wood smoke. A wonderful memory.
We also, walked to the fish pond below our house. We took several bags of bread to feed them. As we got to the water's edge, the little fish were waiting for us. It's strange... they are used to being fed and when you walk to the edge... there they are! Little catfish, big catfish come to the surface of the water when the bread is thrown to them. I made my bread last longer by breaking it off in small pieces. I watched and listened to the catfish making the water splash... and they made a kissing sound when they stuck their little mouths out of the water to eat the bread! They made me think of our sweet Kissy when he eats! It was just... precious!
We enjoyed very much this winter evening. I wanted to share it with you. I hope yours was as nice!
:)))
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
This evening Skip and I walked outside in the cold, cold air. We could smell the wood smoke coming from a chimney at a small nearby house. It smelled so cosy and nice. It made me think back to when we stayed in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for a while.
One night we were walking from our hotel in the town of Gatlinburg, enjoying the crisp, cold air. We could smell charcoal and the aroma of steak cooking! It was a wonderful smell, guess what we did? We began to follow our nose looking for the restaurant that had steak cooking!
We walked up and down the hilly sidewalk until we finally came to a small restaurant where the aroma of steak cooking... came from! We went inside ... it was so nice, and warm inside. The scents inside smelled delicious! We sat down at a round table with a red and white checkered tablecloth... there was a candle burning inside a pretty blue jar. How cosy this wonderful restaurant was! We could see outside the big window as we waited for our steaks to come.. how I loved looking at the colors of the neon lights. Colors soothe my soul, colors make my eyes happy!
I will tell you this... those steaks were absolutely wonderful! They warmed us up on the inside, we were ready to go back into the cold again to walk, and enjoy the night lights, listen and feel the hustle and bustle of other people who were also, enjoying the crisp night air, and shopping in the quaint little shops that were open. How happy this was! This is the memory brought to my mind this evening as we walked and smelled that beautiful wood smoke. A wonderful memory.
We also, walked to the fish pond below our house. We took several bags of bread to feed them. As we got to the water's edge, the little fish were waiting for us. It's strange... they are used to being fed and when you walk to the edge... there they are! Little catfish, big catfish come to the surface of the water when the bread is thrown to them. I made my bread last longer by breaking it off in small pieces. I watched and listened to the catfish making the water splash... and they made a kissing sound when they stuck their little mouths out of the water to eat the bread! They made me think of our sweet Kissy when he eats! It was just... precious!
We enjoyed very much this winter evening. I wanted to share it with you. I hope yours was as nice!
:)))
TWO SPOILED PUPS!
TWO SPOILED PUPS!
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
I was watching our two spoiled pups this morning. They melt my heart when I look at them. Kissy Fairchild, our 1 year old Rottie, and Chadwick Elsworth, our mixed pup (a wonderful mixture he is!), who will be 5 years old on Skip's birthday.
They were laying on our king-size bed when I walked into the bedroom. Both looked up at me when I came in to make the bed up. Their eyes were sleepy looking, I hated to make them move so, I could make the bed.
I did what anybody would do with spoiled pups such as ours! I went to the top of the bed to begin making it, ha! Yes, I did! I began fluffing the pillows out, and smoothing our sheets, bedcovers down to where those two spoiled pups were laying. I thought to myself that I would go back later 'when they've moved', and finish making up the bed. Now... I wonder how many people who really love their pups would do that?
I walked to where they lay, and hugged Kissy so gently, kissed him on top of his head... he stretched out. I did the same with Chadwick Elsworth, he began stretching as well. Before I left the bedroom I patted both on their rumps. They are like children, so trusting, so loving. No matter what...they love you.
Our pups can hear a wrapper, no matter if they are in the house or, outside. We can open a wrapper on something, turn around and guess who's there? Yes, Kissy and Chadwick.
I watched them this morning when they began eating their breakfast. I laugh when I see them doing things ...they are like children. They do things that take alot of thinking... it's so interesting!
For instance, they both do something that is totally hilarious! They'll eat some of their breakfast and one will wander off... the other will wait for a moment and run, not walk, run to the other's bowl.... and grab some of the other's food! The one who wandered off will come back... and wait for his opportunity. Soon, it comes... he'll then, go to the other's bowl and do the same thing! They think this stuff out! I stand there and watch in amazement.
Kissy does something I've never seen another pup do. We keep a bucket of fresh water both outside and on the inside. The inside bucket of water sits on a rug beside the door that has their pet door installed on it.
Sometimes when I open that door... Kissy will come to it and simply push his pet door open... stick his head in the bucket of fresh water, and drink! He does that every time, he never walks to the other side of the door to drink when it's open! That also, amazes me!
We will make bowls of oatmeal for them, when we eat that for breakfast. It doesn't have to be sweetened, or have butter or milk in it. They love it plain.... but, they eat it only if we will get a spoon to feed it to them! We can put those same oatmeal bowls on the floor for them to eat... it won't get eaten!
Kissy is a force to be reckoned with. He is like an electrical wire, he is full of energy. He is huge and energetic. He loves to 'express himself'! He hears the commercial on tv... he is ready to 'express himself'. Skip taught him that when he was smaller. To 'express himself', he will grab the nearest chewbone, run back and go around in circles while one of us puts our hand on his back, saying 'Kissy, express yourself!' It's so funny to watch him dance around!
It's hard to just pet Kissy, he can't be still. His huge body and weight feels like a person, when he accidently steps on our feet! I have to make him sit just for a moment to 'give him sugar'. That makes him so happy that he seems to have more energy!
Chadwick is a very fast pup. He loves to run circles in their fenced in yard... Kissy is right behind him. You'd be surprised how such a large dog can move so fast! I love watching Kissy's little ears fold back when he runs.
Chadwick will come to us and he will jump lightly up to kiss us. His kiss is so gentle and soft. He is completely opposite of Kissy. One can hold and pet Chadwick easily.
I look at both of our pups, my heart feels such love for them. We sacrifice alot to be with them. We don't like to go out at nights, and leave them alone. We find ourselves hurrying to get back to them when we are gone long periods. We love them very much.
We will bring little pieces of chicken, or beef when we eat out, back to them.
I was wondering how many people feel the same way about their pups? I know that many, many people have pets in their homes now, also, travel with them like we do. Hotels, motels will accept pets now, where once they wouldn't.
I wonder if 'you' have spoiled pups, or pets? I'd be interested in hearing about them!
Happy day to my readers! Granny Gee
Thursday, February 9, 2012
TINY SPARKLING POOL OF WATER... MEMORY FLASHBACK
TINY SPARKLING POOL OF WATER... MEMORY FLASHBACK
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
This morning I was washing 2 bowls, 2 cups, and utensils. I put them in the other sink (double sinks) to sit for a moment after I rinsed them. I dried them off with a fresh drying cloth, put them away.
I remember not long ago writing about when I helped my sister by rinsing the dishes she washed... then, sneaking them back into her water to be washed again.
This morning is the first morning that I didn't put dishes in a dish drainer. I decided that I am tired of having a dish drainer sitting out. I will wash and dry every glass, plate, whatever we use... and just simply put them up in the cabinets.
I think writing about drying the dishes sparked this 'new' idea of washing, drying and putting them away. This morning as I did that... I kept flashing back to being that little girl again... how fun it was to play. That was a happy few minutes with one of my sisters (my father's daughter)... truthfully, there weren't many of them.
I have a little problem now... do you know how it is to let your cabinets get in disarray? Well, mine are like that... and no matter how neat I make them... after a period of time, they'll begin to look crowded again. I need to rearrange them again, soon.
I was thinking how strange it was standing at the sink as I rinsed a silver long-handled teaspoon... the spoon held a little water in it. For some reason I stood there and just looked into that water that sparkled from the overhead light. In that tiny pool of water... I could 'see back into the past'... see me standing there at that sink, my sister beside me.
It was bright around us, our smiles and laughter just as bright as the light that surrounded us. We had just begun bonding... we never knew each other before I came there (only a short time before this incident).
I can't see my stepmother until she began beating me in my back (I was 9 years old). I wondered as I looked into that little pool of sparkling water in the spoon.... was she standing behind us and saw that 'her' daughter, my half-sister, was going to love me? I wonder if she watched us hating to see us playing and laughing together? Then... I wonder 'why?'
You know how it is to sometimes 'think back' for a moment when you do something that triggers a flashback into the past. This morning was my morning for thinking back, when washing and drying dishes.
Oh... about those cabinets. They need to be stretched bigger if you want to know my opinion. Also, my opinion only....... I think some of the shelves need to have 'like a wine-
rack'.... you know the 'square holes'? Well, instead of putting wine bottles in them ...put
cups into each hole. In fact, a section of a cabinet shelf could be like this... made out of woven wire. That space could sure hold alot of cups, even glasses... all laying on their sides as they are slid into each slot. I think I would like that.
Here's to wishing all my readers a very nice day! Granny Gee
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
This morning I was washing 2 bowls, 2 cups, and utensils. I put them in the other sink (double sinks) to sit for a moment after I rinsed them. I dried them off with a fresh drying cloth, put them away.
I remember not long ago writing about when I helped my sister by rinsing the dishes she washed... then, sneaking them back into her water to be washed again.
This morning is the first morning that I didn't put dishes in a dish drainer. I decided that I am tired of having a dish drainer sitting out. I will wash and dry every glass, plate, whatever we use... and just simply put them up in the cabinets.
I think writing about drying the dishes sparked this 'new' idea of washing, drying and putting them away. This morning as I did that... I kept flashing back to being that little girl again... how fun it was to play. That was a happy few minutes with one of my sisters (my father's daughter)... truthfully, there weren't many of them.
I have a little problem now... do you know how it is to let your cabinets get in disarray? Well, mine are like that... and no matter how neat I make them... after a period of time, they'll begin to look crowded again. I need to rearrange them again, soon.
I was thinking how strange it was standing at the sink as I rinsed a silver long-handled teaspoon... the spoon held a little water in it. For some reason I stood there and just looked into that water that sparkled from the overhead light. In that tiny pool of water... I could 'see back into the past'... see me standing there at that sink, my sister beside me.
It was bright around us, our smiles and laughter just as bright as the light that surrounded us. We had just begun bonding... we never knew each other before I came there (only a short time before this incident).
I can't see my stepmother until she began beating me in my back (I was 9 years old). I wondered as I looked into that little pool of sparkling water in the spoon.... was she standing behind us and saw that 'her' daughter, my half-sister, was going to love me? I wonder if she watched us hating to see us playing and laughing together? Then... I wonder 'why?'
You know how it is to sometimes 'think back' for a moment when you do something that triggers a flashback into the past. This morning was my morning for thinking back, when washing and drying dishes.
Oh... about those cabinets. They need to be stretched bigger if you want to know my opinion. Also, my opinion only....... I think some of the shelves need to have 'like a wine-
rack'.... you know the 'square holes'? Well, instead of putting wine bottles in them ...put
cups into each hole. In fact, a section of a cabinet shelf could be like this... made out of woven wire. That space could sure hold alot of cups, even glasses... all laying on their sides as they are slid into each slot. I think I would like that.
Here's to wishing all my readers a very nice day! Granny Gee
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I WONDER WHY SHE DID THAT?
I WONDER WHY SHE DID THAT?
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
Yesterday, we came home and there was a SUV parked in 'our front yard'... right in our yard on the wet grass! I couldn't believe my eyes to see someone parked in our front yard. We have a circular driveway... and if one can't go through it when our vehicles are there........ simply just back out to the road... you can see both ways. No, I just couldn't imagine coming to yours or someone's house when it's raining, and park in your front yard on the wet grass.
I couldn't believe seeing that SUV sitting there, and it was raining. The ground was very soggy. It upset me seeing the vehicle there, and the very real possibility someone would be spinning to pull back out to the driveway. There was a woman at our door, she turned as I walked up. I asked her 'why, was she parked in our front yard?'
Anyway, it turned out she was looking for someone. She apologized that she parked there, that our driveway was blocked and she couldn't drive around. She left, and thankfully the SUV didn't leave spin marks in the grass.
I kept thinking that I wished I had been nicer to the lady, but, I'd been focused on her car parked in our wet yard. Oh well. Now... I hope that doesn't come back to 'bite me in the ass'.
You know how sometimes if you aren't at your best.... later you'll meet that same person and you have to look at them in their eyes? All I know to say is... "I'm sorry, that wasn't me, that way my twin sister, and she couldn't believe someone would park in someone's front yard, especially when it was raining!"
Truthfully, I feel bad that I didn't just talk to the lady instead of becoming irate with her. Even wishing I hadn't been irate doesn't change my question as to 'why' she parked on the wet grass. I can't imagine parking in someone's wet front yard. I wonder why she did that?
I wonder what would that woman would say and think of me 'if' I had came to her house, backed into her wet front yard and parked? No matter, I still feel bad for being irate with her! I wish we always had a second chance to do things over.
I wonder if you'd been as irate as I was? I'm interested in what your reaction would be? I will be looking for comments! :)))
BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES
Yesterday, we came home and there was a SUV parked in 'our front yard'... right in our yard on the wet grass! I couldn't believe my eyes to see someone parked in our front yard. We have a circular driveway... and if one can't go through it when our vehicles are there........ simply just back out to the road... you can see both ways. No, I just couldn't imagine coming to yours or someone's house when it's raining, and park in your front yard on the wet grass.
I couldn't believe seeing that SUV sitting there, and it was raining. The ground was very soggy. It upset me seeing the vehicle there, and the very real possibility someone would be spinning to pull back out to the driveway. There was a woman at our door, she turned as I walked up. I asked her 'why, was she parked in our front yard?'
Anyway, it turned out she was looking for someone. She apologized that she parked there, that our driveway was blocked and she couldn't drive around. She left, and thankfully the SUV didn't leave spin marks in the grass.
I kept thinking that I wished I had been nicer to the lady, but, I'd been focused on her car parked in our wet yard. Oh well. Now... I hope that doesn't come back to 'bite me in the ass'.
You know how sometimes if you aren't at your best.... later you'll meet that same person and you have to look at them in their eyes? All I know to say is... "I'm sorry, that wasn't me, that way my twin sister, and she couldn't believe someone would park in someone's front yard, especially when it was raining!"
Truthfully, I feel bad that I didn't just talk to the lady instead of becoming irate with her. Even wishing I hadn't been irate doesn't change my question as to 'why' she parked on the wet grass. I can't imagine parking in someone's wet front yard. I wonder why she did that?
I wonder what would that woman would say and think of me 'if' I had came to her house, backed into her wet front yard and parked? No matter, I still feel bad for being irate with her! I wish we always had a second chance to do things over.
I wonder if you'd been as irate as I was? I'm interested in what your reaction would be? I will be looking for comments! :)))
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