Today started out early. My nephew and my niece both had baseball games. Zach's was at 8am at Tinsley Park. Marissa's was at 9:30am at a different, but nearby park. Zach had his second game at 11:30am. My sister had to work today, and my brother in law is an assistant coach for Zach's team. So I was up and out early to watch a bit of his first game, then I took Marissa to her scrimmage. Then back to watch Zach's second game. My sister decided to cook out tonight, and my brother came over after work. All three of us were together when we got the call.
My parents and my younger sister live in northeast AR/southeast MO, within about 10 miles of each other. My sister had a fight with her husband this afternoon, and drove off in a fit of anger. She went too fast down gravel roads, in a town so small that they've only got one paved road. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. Or not. But that's how it's been described to me.
Never drive when you are angry. NEVER. My sister (Beth) spun out and flipped her car multiple times. It took thirty minutes for her to be extracted. She was flown to the nearest trauma hospital, in Cape Girardeau, MO. That's about 97 miles from Cooter, MO, where she lives. She's now en route to Barnes*Jewish Hospital in St. Louis, which is a level 1 trauma hospital.
She has a grade 1 liver laceration. Translation: a small cut on her liver that will heal just fine on its own.
She has a laceration on her head that required 12 staples. Because of that, they're keeping her on minimal painkillers. They have to monitor her and make sure there are no brain injuries that take time to present.
She has numerous scrapes and contusions.
Those are the minor injuries.
She also has multiple fractures on her pelvis, which is why she's being relocated to Barnes*Jewish. Apparently no one likes messing with the pelvis. She has an acetabellum fracture. That's apparently a fracture on the ball that goes into the pelvis. She has several thoracic compression fractures, in T8, T10, and T12. She also has a burst fracture at L5, and it's impinging on her spinal cord.
Good news: she's neurologically intact, hemodynamically stable, and breathing on her own. What that means is she's not gushing blood from anywhere and she can move her fingers and toes. But the trauma surgeon has kept her in the C-Collar and on the backboard until she can be taken in for surgery on that burst fracture and get those bones away from her spinal cord.
By all rights, my sister should be dead. It's a miracle that she's not. That girl has always had some pretty powerful guardian angels watching over her.
It's going to be a very long time before she's healed. Our older sister, Katie, is a nurse practitioner. She's the one who lives here. She says that Beth will be in the hospital for several weeks, and probably be in a wheelchair for a while after she's released.
My dad is scheduled to have knee replacement surgery this week. It's going to be in Memphis. Beth will still be in St. Louis. My poor mother needs a clone.
I think I'm a little in shock still. My mom told Katie not to call our aunts and uncles. That bothered me a lot. I struggled with it for several hours...then considered how I'd feel if something happened to any of my nieces, or either of my nephews. I called my aunts and uncle on my dad's side of the family. I called my mom's brother. The rest of her side of the family are nut jobs. I'll let me uncle figure out when to tell my grandparents. Grandpa just came home from the hospital this week, so his health is fragile enough.
I want to go home. I want to spend this week with my family, so my mom won't feel like she's abandoning her husband, or her daughter. I want to see my sister alive. I can't go, though. I don't have vacation time or pay at work. I don't have money to make up for the lost time at work. The only thing I DO have is Spring Break from school.
Maybe I'll do a hell-or-high-water trip home next weekend, for Easter. I have a day off work, whether I want it or not.
I don't suppose I really need to blog about this, but I need to write it out. I need to work through the shock and fear. I need to see, in black and white, the words that she's going to be fine.
I want to send thank you cards to the paramedics who got her out. If they'd been less skilled, less careful, she'd be paralyzed. I want to thank the old woman who called in the accident and stayed with my sister until the paramedics arrived.
Guardian angels sometimes are as human as you and me.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friendship
Friendship is often taken for granted. When you have it, you ignore it. You assume it will always be there. You don't nurture it.
And then, one day, it's gone.
Two years ago, I had to very good, very close friends. I considered them family. They were, and are, very important to me. But two years ago, the writing group we'd been in together for over ten years was shut down. And slowly, we drifted apart. I lived close to one, and with a little effort we could have kept in touch. Phone calls, getting together, IMing...
But I was working full time, and going to school full time. I was, and am, sensitive to those little clues that indicate that someone's backing away from me. Especially with this one friend. I had observed for myself how she distanced herself from someone else who was trying too hard to be friends with her.
I assumed that she was doing the same thing with me. It started with IM conversations that elicited monosyllable responses. She never suggested getting together; it was always my initiation. In my last month in California, she made no effort to get together with me. That hurt. Once I moved, God knew when we'd actually be able to see each other again. If I mattered to her, wouldn't she have at least suggested dinner sometime in the week before I left?
She didn't work. She wasn't in school. She didn't contact me.
I interpretted this as her wish to sever the friendship. It hurt, a lot, to realize this. I still considered her one of my best and closest friends. And because I stilled cared - and I'm essentially a coward - I didn't confront her and demand to know if my assumption was right.
With the other friend, she lives a distance away. I can't honestly say she drifted away as much as I let her go. She was never one to start an IM conversation. If I didn't start the conversation, then we wouldn't have one. But she and our other friends are very close, and I suppose I thought of them as a pair. Lose one, lose the other.
But over the past year, I've been thinking a lot. Did I let go too easily? Did protecting myself cost me a friendship - two friendships - that were and are important to me? Should I have pushed?
And I started thinking about other frienships that had faded over the years. Some with cause. Some just because life moved on, priorities and circumstances changed.
Are those reasons enough to let something as precious as friendship go, without even trying to keep it?
True friendship is rare. It should be protected and nurtured. It should be the prize rose in the flower garden, not the weed out in the empty field.
I decided to make an effort. I wrote a letter. A form letter, yes, because it made me feel safer. I emailed it to those old friends that I didn't have a home address for. I'll mail it to those that I do have a home address for.
And hopefully, my friendships will blossom again.
And then, one day, it's gone.
Two years ago, I had to very good, very close friends. I considered them family. They were, and are, very important to me. But two years ago, the writing group we'd been in together for over ten years was shut down. And slowly, we drifted apart. I lived close to one, and with a little effort we could have kept in touch. Phone calls, getting together, IMing...
But I was working full time, and going to school full time. I was, and am, sensitive to those little clues that indicate that someone's backing away from me. Especially with this one friend. I had observed for myself how she distanced herself from someone else who was trying too hard to be friends with her.
I assumed that she was doing the same thing with me. It started with IM conversations that elicited monosyllable responses. She never suggested getting together; it was always my initiation. In my last month in California, she made no effort to get together with me. That hurt. Once I moved, God knew when we'd actually be able to see each other again. If I mattered to her, wouldn't she have at least suggested dinner sometime in the week before I left?
She didn't work. She wasn't in school. She didn't contact me.
I interpretted this as her wish to sever the friendship. It hurt, a lot, to realize this. I still considered her one of my best and closest friends. And because I stilled cared - and I'm essentially a coward - I didn't confront her and demand to know if my assumption was right.
With the other friend, she lives a distance away. I can't honestly say she drifted away as much as I let her go. She was never one to start an IM conversation. If I didn't start the conversation, then we wouldn't have one. But she and our other friends are very close, and I suppose I thought of them as a pair. Lose one, lose the other.
But over the past year, I've been thinking a lot. Did I let go too easily? Did protecting myself cost me a friendship - two friendships - that were and are important to me? Should I have pushed?
And I started thinking about other frienships that had faded over the years. Some with cause. Some just because life moved on, priorities and circumstances changed.
Are those reasons enough to let something as precious as friendship go, without even trying to keep it?
True friendship is rare. It should be protected and nurtured. It should be the prize rose in the flower garden, not the weed out in the empty field.
I decided to make an effort. I wrote a letter. A form letter, yes, because it made me feel safer. I emailed it to those old friends that I didn't have a home address for. I'll mail it to those that I do have a home address for.
And hopefully, my friendships will blossom again.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Reading Journals
Okay, I have to take a few minutes and vent. I have to. If I don't, I'll end up doing it in the reading journal and I'm pretty positive my grade on those will be low enough. I don't need to make it lower.
I hate these damn things.
I like reading the essays. They're interesting! I don't like analyzing them. I hate this part: "Spend more time talking about how the writer does what he/she does, and less on what story the essay tells."
Why do I hate it? Because I suck at it. I can read the essay and I can probably sum up then overall purpose or point of it in a sentence. But identifying who the writer does what he/she does? That's where I get stumped.
I read for pleasure. I read for escapism. I write for the same reasons. Something in me slams on the brakes and throws up mental barriers when I try to exam what I've read. "No, sorry, that's not why you read. Stop right there!" is the message my brain sends out whenever I try to analyze something I've read.
I know I'm doing poorly on the reading journals, even without having the grade from the first set back yet. I hate when I get bad grades. I try to stick to the instructions and do what is required, but I keep veering away from that. Trying to write a half-page for each essay is a challenge. Me, who has always prided myself on being able to write as much as is required for anything, about anything. I can't squeeze out a half page because I'm trying not to spend too much wordage on recapping the essay.
I really, really, really hate these reading journals. If I could just read the essays, then write my thoughts and impressions and interpretations of them, it would be easier. But identifying what the writer does, and how they do it? I'm afraid my brain just doesn't work that way.
Okay. Back to finishing the journals. I really didn't put them off until the last minute on purpose. I've just been so busy with work and school and deadlines and studying that hte 12th got here too fast.
I hate these damn things.
I like reading the essays. They're interesting! I don't like analyzing them. I hate this part: "Spend more time talking about how the writer does what he/she does, and less on what story the essay tells."
Why do I hate it? Because I suck at it. I can read the essay and I can probably sum up then overall purpose or point of it in a sentence. But identifying who the writer does what he/she does? That's where I get stumped.
I read for pleasure. I read for escapism. I write for the same reasons. Something in me slams on the brakes and throws up mental barriers when I try to exam what I've read. "No, sorry, that's not why you read. Stop right there!" is the message my brain sends out whenever I try to analyze something I've read.
I know I'm doing poorly on the reading journals, even without having the grade from the first set back yet. I hate when I get bad grades. I try to stick to the instructions and do what is required, but I keep veering away from that. Trying to write a half-page for each essay is a challenge. Me, who has always prided myself on being able to write as much as is required for anything, about anything. I can't squeeze out a half page because I'm trying not to spend too much wordage on recapping the essay.
I really, really, really hate these reading journals. If I could just read the essays, then write my thoughts and impressions and interpretations of them, it would be easier. But identifying what the writer does, and how they do it? I'm afraid my brain just doesn't work that way.
Okay. Back to finishing the journals. I really didn't put them off until the last minute on purpose. I've just been so busy with work and school and deadlines and studying that hte 12th got here too fast.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I don't want to work anymore...
I have 40 minutes to go before I can clock out and head....to school. I'd rather head home, but Tuesdays and Wednesdsays are my on-campus class nights. Sometimes I think it's better to have a free night between them. It makes the long days easier to bear. Sometimes I think it's better to have them back-to-back like this semester, so I can get those long days over with in one go.
What would really be best if I didn't have to work and could just concentrate on my classes and not have any long days at all. But that's not going to happen.
The last week of the month and the first week/week and a half of the month are my busiest times. So I've been charging full steam ahead and overwhelmed for the past two and a half weeks. I'm TIRED. As of today, around noon, I've gotten to the point where all the urgent must-get-done-ASAP!!!! stuff is done and now I've a week and a half of less urgent things to occupy my time.
Or not. Occupy my time, that is. My job is an entry level one. I am not an entry level person. I can do a lot MORE than my job requires of me. I've tried to get them to let me do a lot more, but it doesn't happen. I've added aspects to my job that the bosses like, and which takes more of my time, but isn't really all that hard to do or figure out. So unless I'm absolutely buried...I get really, really bored. I tend to loaf. I end up doing just what I'm doing now: working on something that's for me and has nothing to do with work.
Why do employers do that? Why don't they use their employees to their fullest potential? Why are we pigeon-holed by job descriptions that only address one area of our skill set? And why won't they let us branch out if we 1) have the desire to do so, and 2) have the time to do so? It seems like a waste of everyone's time, and it's demoralizing to the employee. I much rather work at a job where I always have something to do.
Okay, must be fair. I have something to do right now. I just don't want to. I've an 8 inch stack of deposit batches I need to scan, rename the files, and save to the server. I need to make folders for March's deposit batches. The first will require standing on my feet at the copier for a significant length of time. I'll wait til Friday to do that job, since on that day I can wear tennis shoes. Today...I have 3.5 inch heels on. The folders...will take maybe half an hour to do - after I find someone to let me in the storage vault to get more hanging files. I can do that tomorrow.
There are also some researchy things I can do - but once I get deep into research, I don't like being interrupted. When you lose your train of thought, you almost have to start from the beginning again. With only 40 (now 30) minutes left in the day, researching anything is pointless. I'll just have to start all over again tomorrow.
So now I sit here, not wanting to work anymore, and booooooored. I know what I want to do, but like research, once I start writing I don't want to be interrupted. It would be more frustrating than rewarding at this point to open a story and start working on it just to close it out in half an hour.
I could make a grocery list. But that will just irritate me.
I could wander into someone else's office and kill time - but I hate when they do that to me when I'm working, so I won't do it to them.
Taking a nap is definitely out. Bosses frown on that. :)
Twenty minutes to go. I still don't want to work. But guess I'll have to find something to do, anyway!
What would really be best if I didn't have to work and could just concentrate on my classes and not have any long days at all. But that's not going to happen.
The last week of the month and the first week/week and a half of the month are my busiest times. So I've been charging full steam ahead and overwhelmed for the past two and a half weeks. I'm TIRED. As of today, around noon, I've gotten to the point where all the urgent must-get-done-ASAP!!!! stuff is done and now I've a week and a half of less urgent things to occupy my time.
Or not. Occupy my time, that is. My job is an entry level one. I am not an entry level person. I can do a lot MORE than my job requires of me. I've tried to get them to let me do a lot more, but it doesn't happen. I've added aspects to my job that the bosses like, and which takes more of my time, but isn't really all that hard to do or figure out. So unless I'm absolutely buried...I get really, really bored. I tend to loaf. I end up doing just what I'm doing now: working on something that's for me and has nothing to do with work.
Why do employers do that? Why don't they use their employees to their fullest potential? Why are we pigeon-holed by job descriptions that only address one area of our skill set? And why won't they let us branch out if we 1) have the desire to do so, and 2) have the time to do so? It seems like a waste of everyone's time, and it's demoralizing to the employee. I much rather work at a job where I always have something to do.
Okay, must be fair. I have something to do right now. I just don't want to. I've an 8 inch stack of deposit batches I need to scan, rename the files, and save to the server. I need to make folders for March's deposit batches. The first will require standing on my feet at the copier for a significant length of time. I'll wait til Friday to do that job, since on that day I can wear tennis shoes. Today...I have 3.5 inch heels on. The folders...will take maybe half an hour to do - after I find someone to let me in the storage vault to get more hanging files. I can do that tomorrow.
There are also some researchy things I can do - but once I get deep into research, I don't like being interrupted. When you lose your train of thought, you almost have to start from the beginning again. With only 40 (now 30) minutes left in the day, researching anything is pointless. I'll just have to start all over again tomorrow.
So now I sit here, not wanting to work anymore, and booooooored. I know what I want to do, but like research, once I start writing I don't want to be interrupted. It would be more frustrating than rewarding at this point to open a story and start working on it just to close it out in half an hour.
I could make a grocery list. But that will just irritate me.
I could wander into someone else's office and kill time - but I hate when they do that to me when I'm working, so I won't do it to them.
Taking a nap is definitely out. Bosses frown on that. :)
Twenty minutes to go. I still don't want to work. But guess I'll have to find something to do, anyway!
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Would the voices in my head please shut up?
It's a little disconcerting sometimes. With most people, if they hear voices in their head, it's usually time to call the doc and arrange for happy drugs. Or at least brain-numb drugs. With writers, however - we're expected to have voices in our heads. When we don't, it's not a good sign.
I call myself a writer, but I'm not a published one. I probably never will be. But publication doesn't make the writer. It's the drive to write, to put your stories on paper, that makes a writer. As a published author (I forget who) once told me, "If you wake up in the morning and you want to write, then you're a writer. A lot of writers never saw print, but don't let that discourage you."
So, yes. I'm a writer. I think about it a lot. I do it a lot. Finishing a story can make my day. Struggling to think of a good plot can ruin my week. Looking forward to character interactions can put me on a high faster than any drug.
But really - when the characters start having conversations in my head, it's a little distracting. Especially when they're newlywed couple, joined for political reasons, but both good-hearted people, and their in a hayloft. There is a cat. There are rumors just beginning. And I'm trying to prepared a Aged Receivables report. It's hard to think numbers when Lehla's cooing at the cat and Armagen is watching her with a bemused expression. And the cat is being as aloof and dignified as only a cat can be with hay sticking out of his fur.
Lehla is a new character for me, but she sprang to mind fully-fleshed. All it took was Kris saying, "Hey, could you write up a wife for Armagen? It's time he was married." And ta-da! There she was. I knew what she looked like. I knew her background. I knew her personality. And she had a very strong voice. Our first story was written in three days, and turned out to be about 10,000 words.
And then she started talking to me at work and I realized...Lehla and Armagen's story didn't have to stay in the obscure area of Pern fandom fanfic. No. With a tweak here, a tweak there - their story could very easily become an original work, in a classic fantasy setting. Kris and I write so well together, it would almost be easy - IF we could keep up the momentum and not get distracted.
Now I have two Lehla's in my head, vying for attention.
Welcome to the party, Lady Lehla. Please join the other 200 characters who've taken up residence in Chateau Anna...
Some characters aren't nearly as vocal as Lehla is right now. D'ven, for one - he seldom wants to share a story with me, but his presence is very strong. I've tried a few times to kill him off. If he won't share his story, then he needs to go. The skull is getting a little crowded. But no, he won't let me kill him. He is most definitely alive and well, and not going anywhere.
Z'leena's another one. My very first character EVER. I made SO MANY mistakes when I wrote her up. A lot of folks would just erase and begin again, or rewrite the character and background to eliminate those glaring newbie errors. Not me. No. I decided, I made the mistakes, but I'd fix them realistically - but letting her learn, heal, and grow. She's now pretty much a legend in the writing group. Happily married, a mother of five, and a leader in the community. Eighteen years ago, no one could have conceived of her in any of those three roles. As a writer, I'm very proud of her growth, through the stories written and how readers perceive her.
But sometimes the clamoring in my head from characters wanting me to write their stories is very distracting. They usually clamor loudest when I'm at work, or driving, and I can't really pay attention. And when I want them to speak up - they all go silent.
I wouldn't trade it, though. :) It is so much FUN to write a story and have someone tell you how much they enjoyed it, or how sad it was, or to cheer on that character's triumph. So what if I never get published? I'm having fun!
....even if the rest of the world thinks I should be in a looney bin! ;)
I call myself a writer, but I'm not a published one. I probably never will be. But publication doesn't make the writer. It's the drive to write, to put your stories on paper, that makes a writer. As a published author (I forget who) once told me, "If you wake up in the morning and you want to write, then you're a writer. A lot of writers never saw print, but don't let that discourage you."
So, yes. I'm a writer. I think about it a lot. I do it a lot. Finishing a story can make my day. Struggling to think of a good plot can ruin my week. Looking forward to character interactions can put me on a high faster than any drug.
But really - when the characters start having conversations in my head, it's a little distracting. Especially when they're newlywed couple, joined for political reasons, but both good-hearted people, and their in a hayloft. There is a cat. There are rumors just beginning. And I'm trying to prepared a Aged Receivables report. It's hard to think numbers when Lehla's cooing at the cat and Armagen is watching her with a bemused expression. And the cat is being as aloof and dignified as only a cat can be with hay sticking out of his fur.
Lehla is a new character for me, but she sprang to mind fully-fleshed. All it took was Kris saying, "Hey, could you write up a wife for Armagen? It's time he was married." And ta-da! There she was. I knew what she looked like. I knew her background. I knew her personality. And she had a very strong voice. Our first story was written in three days, and turned out to be about 10,000 words.
And then she started talking to me at work and I realized...Lehla and Armagen's story didn't have to stay in the obscure area of Pern fandom fanfic. No. With a tweak here, a tweak there - their story could very easily become an original work, in a classic fantasy setting. Kris and I write so well together, it would almost be easy - IF we could keep up the momentum and not get distracted.
Now I have two Lehla's in my head, vying for attention.
Welcome to the party, Lady Lehla. Please join the other 200 characters who've taken up residence in Chateau Anna...
Some characters aren't nearly as vocal as Lehla is right now. D'ven, for one - he seldom wants to share a story with me, but his presence is very strong. I've tried a few times to kill him off. If he won't share his story, then he needs to go. The skull is getting a little crowded. But no, he won't let me kill him. He is most definitely alive and well, and not going anywhere.
Z'leena's another one. My very first character EVER. I made SO MANY mistakes when I wrote her up. A lot of folks would just erase and begin again, or rewrite the character and background to eliminate those glaring newbie errors. Not me. No. I decided, I made the mistakes, but I'd fix them realistically - but letting her learn, heal, and grow. She's now pretty much a legend in the writing group. Happily married, a mother of five, and a leader in the community. Eighteen years ago, no one could have conceived of her in any of those three roles. As a writer, I'm very proud of her growth, through the stories written and how readers perceive her.
But sometimes the clamoring in my head from characters wanting me to write their stories is very distracting. They usually clamor loudest when I'm at work, or driving, and I can't really pay attention. And when I want them to speak up - they all go silent.
I wouldn't trade it, though. :) It is so much FUN to write a story and have someone tell you how much they enjoyed it, or how sad it was, or to cheer on that character's triumph. So what if I never get published? I'm having fun!
....even if the rest of the world thinks I should be in a looney bin! ;)
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