State Street Flood and Olympic Run

Someone posted this link to facebook yesterday. 

Wow.

I remember filling sandbags. 

I remember standing on state street and

looking at the river.  

I remember standing there the

following year as the

Olympic Torch was being passed. 

I believe it was Senator Orrin Hatch  

running on State Street. 

I remember thinking how surreal that was

as the path he was on was

under water the year prior. 

I couldn’t find a picture of the

torch being passed on state street, but

here is an article that maps out the run.

There Goes Our Disneyland Fund

Our biggest reason for moving to Oregon was so that I could breathe.  I didn’t wish for my family members have to listen to me hack out my lungs or gasp for air – and yet this month has seemed to defeat the purpose.  Yesterday I spent the majority of the day in the emergency room – first the waiting room and then a small section in another room divided by curtains.  I thought Dial-up AOL was the slowest thing ever.  They are speed demons next to Urgent Care.  And Urgent was five times faster than Emergency.  Granted, it was Memorial Day and there was nowhere else to go.  Most of the patients there didn’t seem in bad enough shape to require emergency care.  I heard three or four of them just chatting away as if they were there to socialize.  I clung onto my head so that it wouldn’t roll off or explode.  I suspect I was dehydrated as I had left large evidences of my DNS at different Urgent cares that Google had said were open, but were not.  I didn’t realize that it was possible for me to throw up that much when I really hadn’t sent that much down.  Half a yogurt.  Perhaps a third a bottle of water.  My stomach hurt more than my head.

At first, the cool air coming from the ceiling felt really nice.  Throwing up really wears me out.  I was hot.  I was panting.  However, I did eventually get cold.  Roland offered to go out to the car and get a coat for me.  A coat?  I don’t have a coat in the car.  He brought a jacket that I had never seen before.  I asked if it was an early birthday gift.  He just smiled.  Someone in the ward had given it to him to give to me.  I still don’t know if it’s a birthday present or not.

Funny how I was cold and the woman on the other side of the curtain was complaining about how hot she was.  It sounded as though she had many of the symptoms I had experienced on Mothers’ Day.  I was sweating then.  I am usually always hot.  It is rare that I get cold.  I have been blessed with cool weather to suffer through.  Wish I could enjoy it more.  It has been the perfect temperature overall.  But this month has been extremely painful for me physically.  I am starting to get better again.  Let’s just hope it sticks this time and doesn’t resort back to something else.

I feel bad that my emergency bill is going to be costly.  I think they charge by the hour.  I’ve been wanting to take Jenna back to Disneyland for a while now.  She would also like to visit Universal.  We would also like to take someone who would be willing to go on rides with her as there are many that I can no longer do comfortably.

Should get busy on my discussion and assignment for my class as I have to make the Writing Center part of this week’s assignment.  I will need proof.  I hate that.  So I will write the thing and turn it in ASAP.  I’ll submit the assignment but I won’t make an appointment for a live session.  Those have been painful experiences.  Like I need more pain to deal with right now.

I found a message on my phone from Tony and Ester.  They had called to sing “Happy Birthday” – Ester echoed a little “Cha-cha-cha”  It made me smile.  I shared with Roland and Jenna and they smiled too.  

Dash #28 George Bird

                George Bird passed away the first week of March.  All of his biological children were with him in addition to most of his grandchildren.  I use the word “biological” to set apart those that he physically raised and the countless many who thought of him as a dad or a grandfather as he influenced many and made such a positive impact.

          A couple up the street had named their youngest son after him.  The couple’s granddaughter (who lived next door to Birds) refused to believe that George was not her real grandpa.  He had a special bond with many of the neighborhood children.  I, myself, had come to think of him as a second dad.

          He and his wife, Peggy (who I will be writing another dash post about) lived across the street from my mom.  They have always been great friends.  George learned that our families had bonds even before their connection in Midvale.  Turns out George’s dad and my Uncle Faye were good friends.  He had more information on my biological grandmother’s side than I did (see here) 

          George kept busy.  His hobbies included carpentry, quilting (though I don’t recall his taking it up until after he had retired) and service – not necessarily in that order as I imagine service would be first.  I just remember his carpentry assistance when he installed some shelving units in our bathroom and repaired a false drawer that my nephew Kimball had pulled off.  The quilt he made for Roland and me for our wedding still covers our bed (see here).

          George told a lot of corny jokes.  One of my favorite memories is when he would ask my brother, “What is your name, Corey?” and Corey would report to my mom, “He (George) is a nice guy, but he can never seem to remember my name.”

          I wish I could have attended his final service and paid my respect.  He evidently had Alzheimer’s in his final stages of life.  That would have been difficult to witness and I’m grateful that I do not share memories for those final stages as I had already had to deal with something similar with my own mom.

          George and Peggy had gone to the assisted living on a regular basis before my mom passed.  I have always valued their friendship and feel so honored having the opportunities with them that I’ve had.

Day 14 That is a Long Time

          It’s been two weeks since I went to the doctor.  I had worked three hours on Thursday which maybe I shouldn’t have.  On Friday I developed a headache that just seemed to get worse with each day of the weekend.  I have never had a hangover before, but I have had brain freeze – which is how I felt when the headache started.  Progressively it got worse and I imagined that is what a hangover must feel like.  Especially yesterday when a sensitive stomach decided to contribute to the pain.

          While Roland was delivering his talk in church, I was on our bathroom floor experiencing dry heaves.  Perhaps I was dehydrated.  I gulped some water.  Of course, I threw that up.  I wore myself out throwing up and holding my head and crying because I hurt.  I did manage to make it back to my bed and listen to my deep breathing get softer until I eventually fell asleep.

          The process repeated itself during the night when I wanted to sleep.  I was sweating with each spew.  Roland asked if I wanted him to drive me to the hospital, but at that point, I couldn’t sit upright and would have destroyed myself along with the car.

          Once I finally drifted off, I did sleep.  I decided perhaps this is not part of the healing process after all – that somewhere between the bronchitis and after the z-pack, I must have developed a sinus infection. My head is still throbbing, but not like it was.  I think I may have strained my throat last night trying to get the stuff out.  Today is Memorial Day.  I would just assume forget this one.

Day 11 slowly recovering still

After two weeks of not working, I returned to work yesterday – though it was for only half a day.  I prayed that I would be able to get through the day.  My cough had died down.  Still, I had to change my pants before I had even left the house. 

       I left the house early to stop by a thrift store as there is a game I would like to get for Jenna – a specific game that I still have not seen and may have to order online.  While there, I looked at dresses and found a light jumper that I thought I could wear. 

       I had planned on putting keys in my pocket and hooking the walkie-talkie through one of the belt loops but while at the thrift store, I realized that the pants I had changed into did not have pockets.  Frustrating.  I returned home for a lanyard in which I could hang the keys and the walkie-talkie.  Only by the time I returned home, I decided it was warm enough that I could change into my brand new dress (which I hadn’t realized was on discount and spent only 2.25) and so had changed for a third time.

       Once again I prayed that I would make it for the next three hours without prior problems that I’ve experienced for over a week.  I’m happy to say that I was able to make it through the rest of the day without much inconvenience.  I was needed to help with lunch, but think I could have returned home right after recess as I really did not feel useful for the most part.  I do prefer mornings to afternoons.

       I was supposed to meet up with some friends at 4:00 but my mind got loopy and I know I wouldn’t have been pleasant company.  As I think about it, it was a good idea not to have put myself on the road in my condition.  I am bummed that I didn’t get to see my friends. But I did end up spending just a bit of quality time with Roland - whose mind has seemed elsewhere lately also.

       Tried a new sleep routine.  I have failed miserably. I just haven’t been able to get comfortable.  In addition to my soar rear and legs, I also have a major headache – well, major for me.  It may be minimal for those who experience headaches more routinely than I.  I suppose I’ll be napping later on today.  I really am sleepy.  I hope this crazy weather didn't push me back to where I started. Dang it all!

Too Much or Not Enough

I find it interesting that the topic of my last class focused on Medicare and social security.  The topic of my current class has been the brain, stress and this week’s topic on sleep disorders – which I have had my entire life.  Thus I’m making discoveries.  I am also getting the feeling that I need to put my affairs in order and start throwing away mountains of stuff so that Roland and Jenna won’t have to do it in the event I leave this earth.

          I’m not saying that death is around the corner.  It just feels like it in some ways.  Perhaps it’s just the side effects of still trying to heal from bronchitis and still coughing and not breathing right.  I was told at the doctor’s office that my breathing was off.  I don’t think it’s the bronchitis that’s to blame.  My breathing has always been off.  I think more off as I age.  My pipes are small and seem to shrink with each passing year.  No, I don’t have anything to back that up.  Just theory.

          I’ve been reading past memories of mom and dad and their good health somehow shattered.  Dad’s was physical and mom’s was mental.  I think I have a little bit of each going for me right now.  My sleep patterns are horrible.  But they have always been horrible.  Mom said after she gave birth to me, I was always asleep when I was in the hospital.  She said she never saw me awake until she got me home.  I was her first child.  She didn’t know what to expect but thought I ought to be sleeping more than I did.  She said it was as though I had slept in the hospital enough to get me through the next five years. 

          Patrick was the opposite.  He slept the normal hours a baby should.  Mom said he had weird breathing patterns though – or maybe it was just paranoia on her part.  After all, she had dealt with a non-sleeping child for two years before Patrick came along and slept beautifully, but she would have a hard time falling asleep because she wasn’t used to a sleeping baby and would place her hand on top of him to make sure he was still breathing.

         

          I don’t know when I started sleeping in an upright position.  I do sleep better than when I am trying to lay flat.  I still snore though, but perhaps not as loudly.  I don’t know if anyone else in my family snores.  It’s a wonder that any of my family were able to sleep with me in the house.  Though I’ve never heard myself, I understand that I am loud.

          For the most part, whenever I have drifted off in a recliner, I will wake up in the same position in which I fell asleep.  If I try sleeping in bed, I am all over the place along with the sheets and whatever other bedding started out near me.  I rarely ever have blankets on.  Sometimes I may use just one.  But I am usually too hot.

          My feet and ears get cold and I will wear slippers and sometimes a hat or headband.  I usually remove the headwear long before I wake up. 

          This week, as part of my assignment, I am supposed to turn in a sleep schedule which I have yet to create and stick with.  Especially since the bronchitis and antibiotics and cough and phlegm.  I get worn out so easily.  A trip to the mailbox does me in.  I have taken more naps in the last two weeks than I have ever taken in my entire life.  Perhaps it’s wrong to call them naps as I often sleep longer than I do through the night.

          I think the weather may upset my sleeping also.  And I don’t think it would matter where in the country or probably even the entire planet right now.  The weather has been experiencing some violent mood swings.  I like the weather right now.  I want to be a part of it.  I want it to stay where it is.  I don’t want it to warm up again.

Dash # 10: hobbies

       I loved creating things.  I would often get kits for gifts and I would go to town making latch punch rugs, polished rocks, turntable paintings, and potholders to name a few.  One of my favorite things was designing bands from really small beads. 

       I don’t know how old I was when I joined a handcraft club that would send out kits of parts and instructions on how to piece them together.  Usually, I would give them away as gifts.

       Now it’s Jenna who likes to keep her hands busy.  She enjoys crafts as I once did.