Healing both mind and spirit. . .

Sitting in the cafeteria. St Agnes Hospital. Its bright outside, but the windows are tinted. Can see the big trees outside. Not like the Antelope Valley. Tall and green. No Joshua trees here. My right hand is numb. Pins and needles. Its been like that for awhile.

Five floors up is family. A distant relative. Nelly was up there  watching over her sister. She was giving her a bath. A shower cap bath. Kind of cool. Got one of the shower caps and inside there is shampoo and water. Nelly was massaging her sister’s hair and poof. Clean. Pretty cool.

Situation wasn’t cool. Won’t get into it, but a reported financial nest egg was lost in a few days due to no health insurance. Ouch. Bankruptcy is probable and reported selling of million dollar homes is now gone. Airing this personal business may not be comfortable, but my thinking. More cautionary tale. Maybe someone reading this will be more mindful in maintaining health insurance instead of a sound system. A family that was once set is no longer. Trust fund gone and a supposed good life will be facing some adversity.

Many were upset. Heard more than once that this could have been avoided. Won’t said what. Nevertheless,  what is done is done. Can’t go back in time. Can’t pay for the health insurance retroactively. Can’t go back. Too many things have passed and decisions were made long ago. Could have gotten the insurance. Could have seen the doctor. Could have gone to the gym. Could have eaten that non-fried food. Could have, should have. Whatever.

Piling on, can alleviate much needed frustration. Screaming at the husband and say what were you thinking. Could blame many people for what has happened. But why? Family knows now, and if they don’t, well. . .it’s on them. Maybe the “I told you so” can make one feel superior for a bit, but this is temporary. It doesn’t do anything but keep one stuck in where it is. Anger is reasonable. It is understandable. But, what could you or would you do different? Next time, you will know better. If not, well, try. . .try again.

Think of those times in grade school, in middle school, in high school, in college, in work? If you worked that much harder. If you studied algebra or biology, instead of watching that dvd. Maybe one could have been  gone to that prestigious school. Maybe one could have won that scholarship? Maybe one could have gotten that raise to get that promotion? This need for higher, better, more,

People make choices. People take risks. People have a finite skill set, resources, abilities. People are given their lot in life. Sure, some are gifted. Some are mensa. Some are world class athletes. Some are cardiologists, communication specialist, respiratory techs, and so on. There are various levels of abilities. In short, there varying levels of success.

An old biology class talked about these moths in England. There were to types: Black and white. White was the dominant species, making 90% of the moth population. However, industrialization grew near the forest, changing the color of many of the surrounding trees. In time, the birds would hunt the black months. White was once the dominant species due to its genetic characteristics making it superior to the environment. However, through time, coloring of the tree changed. Now the once white trees grew black, and the white moths were the proverbial sore thumb. Black moths blended in the now dark forest and the white to black moth ratio reversed. Black moths were 90% of the moth population.

One could say that everyone is not special. We all fall on the spectrum of high and low. However, economics change the situation. Being part of the wealthy ruling elite, did not fare well during the revolution. Nero once to maintain and build the coffers of the Roman Empire, sent the unwilling daughters and wives of wealthy elite to the brothels for keeping those in power  in power. Sure, it is common folk to go through the struggles of economic hardship. It would be easy to pile on those that did not make wise decisions.

Yet, dealing with the situation, regardless of cause and bias seems to be the best course of action. Can’t whole heartedly say be without prejudice because I know emotion creates motion. Can’t say be a robot and just calculate the best course of action. What I am saying is be cognizant and act accordingly. Circumstances are worth examining before determining judgment. Looking with softer eyes. Being honest I think is key. Honest in oneself. Honest with others. So true decisions can be made.

Having faith in others is having faith in oneself. In having Faith in Others.  In having Faith in the Big Smile. Let those without sin, throw the first stone. So I go back, to look at the long and short of things at the same time. Thanks, Books of Five Rings. Here and now. Tomorrow and yesterday.  All things are important. Those that do not learn from history are bound to make the same mistake. So what is the lesson from this. There is none. Each one must make their own decision based on their own circumstances. People make choices and it your decision to pile on, be gone, or move on. All I care to say is “That Could Be You.” What would like to happen? Can you and will you do something about it? Fact is choice is yours. Pile On. Hold On. Or Move On.

My Hero was Born on the Fourth of July

Complications. . .
My hero is a junior high girl named Prece. On the Fourth of July thirteen years ago, we were ten minutes away from to Las Vegas. Bright lights filled the dark, desert horizon. I remember hearing the cell phone ring. Got a phone call from my brother and soon-to-be-first-time Dad Kevin. Could only hear bits and pieces, “Aspirated. . . Complications. . .Not good.” Saw my mother’s face and knew  reunion had to be next year. 

Last Time I Saw My Brother Cry. . .
Four hours later, we were on the pediatric floor of AV Hospital. Saw both Kev and Luz’s heads down. Shoulders hunched, their bodies were sobbing from a hundred feet away.  Been years since I seen my baby brother cry. Last time was after he played his last college football game.

Talking to Angels
What I remember next was seeing baby Prece helicoptered away. Wasn’t sure if there was going to be happy ending. Still remember the whole floor crying. Mom, Kev, Luz, Chelle, Gerry, Emma--everybody crying. Remember wiping tears from my eyes. Felt hollow inside. Just watched the helicopter climb into the clouds as I said "Goodbye." Never prayed before.

On that day, I did.

Prayers Answered
For the longest time, I believed being medi-vaced made all the difference. Prece carried all our prayers to God directly. Countless weeks later, attached to a heart-lung machine, encased in a glass incubator, “Precie” got better. Angels watched over her in Heaven and in the Pasadena NICU.

My Silver Surfer Still Flies
Prece still flies still today. She runs, too. Flips, twists, and back handsprings. Kaprece is my Hero because she is alive. When I watch her in gym, I reminded how Prayers are answered. I am reminded there are Angels on Earth. 

And Prece is one of them.

Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow, Bet Your Bottom Dollar

It’s dark outside. Evenings are coming sooner and sooner. I’m sitting in the hospital front lobby right now. Laptop’s plugged in. Getting some juice. It flashed earlier 5 minutes left. My eyes are heavy. There’s lots of commotion in the TV room. I hear a baby crying. A little girl cries, “She hit me.” Tired now. Still too much going on for me to rest. Automatic sliding door keeps opening and closing. Volunteer receptionist says, “Lancaster Community is closing in a couple of months,” to the visitor signing in.

Where's The Remote Control?

Winter Olympics are going right now. Kids are watching Dora the Explorer. Can’t get to a TV to watch the opening ceremonies. 2010 Vancouver not really sure if it’s that important. My interest is nothing compared to the 84 LA Olympics. Maybe it’s because the Olympics were only an hour away. Maybe, it’s because there was little viewing choices at the time. Only HBO then; Not like the hundred TV choices we have today. Maybe, it’s because the media blitz was so close to home. Maybe it was because everything was so new.

World's Ending. . .Again

It still dark outside. Foreclosures. 10%  jobless rate. Ads on radio, Iran’s nuclear enrichment program. Doom and gloom is still around. There was always one more war. Yet, it is no different than times before. No different so many hardship stories told before. I still hear the noise from the kids room next door. Political pundits cry a foul. Channel is changing. President did this. President didn’t do that. Mayor did this, Mayor did not do that. No one is ever satisfied. No one is ever totally happy. Palin-haters and Brownies. I am a Brownie.

Right Here, Right Now

What is your moment in time? What historical forces are coloring your view? What are your times? It’s NBA All-Star Weekend. Rookie and celebrity all-star event is playing right now. Dunk-a-thon and Horse are tomorrow’s events. Sunday is the All-Star game. Kobe is out, bad ankle. Iverson is out, too.Family Issues. City of Dallas has over a foot of snow. Yet, the game goes on. Couple of weekends ago was Super Bowl Sunday, Colts versus the Saints. I wore my Manning jersey. Colts lost. Yet, I wasn’t too terribly upset. Just did not have my heart into it. There was no emotional connection. No mountain of joy. No valley of despair. It just . . .Eeeeh. No big deal.  New Years the same. Little over a month.

Earlier, I was at Barnes and Nobles reading about screenwriting and plot. It talked how good story lines had a simple story and strong conflict. It talked about a management of emotions. It talked about internal conflicts. Physical conflict. Conflicts with nature. Conflicts with Higher Ups, something mystical. I have all this.

Nancy Kerrigan, "Why Me!!!"

Did some self-analysis. I wondered why someone want to read my story. My blog. My stuff. Then it came to me. My story now is simple. I’m having questions of Faith. No, I haven’t found God, but I am considering life in the clergy. I am Father that is trying to re-connect with his estranged daughter of 16 year.  Strong emotion internal conflict. I am starting to lunch with her married mother. I am struggling with Congestive Heart Failure and Diabetes. I have been on subconscious, self-imposed exile from my past and I am trying to make amends with former friends. Some victories. Some disappointments. Yet, I go on.

In This Life Time. . .Or the Next

I have major and minor players to my story. Elaine for one. Brian for another. Tammy, Corinna, Lisa, Bobby and Randy. There is an occasional walk-on. Don’t know if I will share all of me. I will tell most of my story. I am struggling to uncover my Father’s past. I am learning about my Father’s sister, my father dead son (my step-brother), my many, many cousins. Many mysteries are ready to be revealed. I will do my best to let you in. I hope my journey will help some. I hope my struggles will help deal with your own.

At times, it feels like I am writing in the dark. Don’t know whether you like or hate what I write. Don’t know if I care. I’m lying. I do care what you think. If you like, you keep reading and post a comment. If not, you will post a comment and still keep reading.  My journey is your journey. The struggle I face is just darkness.  Darkness is simply absence of light. I hope that I can shed some in my journey of writing. Hope you will share your opinion and add some sunshine on m journey.

You Light Up My Life, Debbie Boone

My blog is about the hero’s journey. It’s your journey, too. It’s all of ours. This blog will undoubtedly uncover some personal issues because it is the nature of writing. Free Associating, Roscharch inkblots, writing this blog will reveal my hopes, my fears, my issues, my life. It’s simply my unconscious percolating to the top. I’ll do my best to stay on topic. Let this be a foreshadowing of struggles to come.

Its still dark outside. Automatic door closes. A winter breeze gusts in.  It will be dark for a few hours. Baby is now laughing, though. I hear a little sister complaining. Someone’s shouting “Poopie and it stinks.” I hear more giggling. They changed the channel. I hear the Olympics Theme song in the background. Sunset happened a few minutes ago. It will be dark for awhile. Feeling warmer. Heater is kicking in. The sun will rise. Sliding door opens again. I hear the more laughter and I smile. My eyes widen. Receptionist says, “Yes. We’re hiring for the new Palmdale Hospital.”

Hospitals: Today's Battlefield, Today's Front Line. Its Where Angels Roam

Every Day, Every Night--The Good Fight Dropped Mom at the hospital again. She goes almost every single day. Every day, life and death. Day in, day out. Taxing to the Body. Taxing to the Soul. Taxing to see so much struggle. A lifetime of healthy living, going to the gym religiously, eating well. Unexpectedly and all of sudden. Person is struck down by a stupid car accident. Or going to the hospital could be the result of a lifetime of bad habits. Smoking 2 packs a day, a diet of fat, greasy food, a regimen of lying on the couch, years in front of the boob tube watching other people live life.

Grew up in a hospital Its a second home. Mom's a nurse. Most of my aunts are LVNs and RNs. Uncle Juhn and Uncle Torney are in database. Uncle Alex works Presybyterian Memorial. Uncle Ruth is Engineering at Kaiser, Panorama. Aunty Dely is in Lab. Aunty Myrna worked in the cafeteria. Aunty Ellen and Aunty Cello are in business services. Uncle Alvin is Respiratory Tech. Cousin Jason and Russel's girl are both in RT school now. Leilani is at USC for Occupational Therapy. Ron Mitchell's in X-ray Tech. (Picture of Ron Mitchell and Rochelle Below) Going to the hospital is like going home. All my family members are there.

As a child, I'd roam around the hospital, running here and there. Road the elevators to the different floors. NICU. Lab. Med Surge. Each time the doors opened it was like changing channels on the TV. Each floor had a different show. ICU/ CCU, slow and somber. People stood around so quiet. NICU--Families crying and smiling. ER--fast and exciting. X-ray has secret doors that hid the cool humming sound. Lab--test tubes and microscopes. Morgue, I see dead people. Ate in the cafeteria since the food was free. Learned how to use the computer in database. The hospital was my second home. Always felt comfortable here.

I Hate Hospitals
That all changed. Rochelle got sick. She had stomach cancer. Hospital was not so fun. Seeing my cousin not getting better. Getting worse. Not so much fun. She was dying and I was . . . crying. Losing a playmate. Seeing her plugged up to the ventilator. Canulas in her nose. Tubes in her wrist. IV bag drip. Hearing the respirator breathe for her. Watching the heart rate monitor flash numbers. Systolic, 100. Diastolic, 60. Respiration, 50. Its like watching the stock market. The Flash of P Wave. QRS Wave. T Wave scroll across the screen. Those are the squiggly lines telling us that her heart's still beating. We're waiting for some sign, something miraculous. Hoping, she would magically be better. Rochelle would pop out of the bed to come play with us. C'mon, Rochelle, lets play. Lets go run around the halls. Go to the cafeteria and get our favorite green jello Aunty Myrna made. Take the elevator rides.

Her funeral has come and gone. But we're in the hospital again. Tatay is sick. Years of smoking caught up. Cancer, again. Lung this time. Here we go again. More tubes. More drugs. More time at the stupid hospital. Tatay passed, too. He's buried next to Rochelle. I hate the hospital. Never want to go back.

Got a call. Back to the hospital. Mike, my half-brother. A brother I did not know until a few months ago. The stranger stopped by a few months back. I was angry. I was jealous. I was stupid. Did not know that Dad had another family before us. A truck, 16-wheeler made a wide left. Apparently, the driver did not see Mike while making the turn. Dirt got in his brain. Looking down the Hospital hall. Dad, he's sitting down. Face buried in his hands. His body convulses. My father's sobs echo down the hallway. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Why?" That's all I hear. Another funeral. Another burial. Cemetary, again. More people dressed in black crying. Losing another loved one. Fucking Hospital. I hate this place.

God, Stop. Hospital Bad. I get the point.

Wait, there's more, God answers back. Pushed off a slide. Broke my arm. Damn, hospital. Knelled on glass table. Stitches for my knee. Can't go swimming. Hospital. Got to get shots, hospital. Cousin Edwards on the third floor, appendix removed. Hospital. Dislocated elbow. Patient in next bed keeps talking about yellow spots everywhere. A mere hospital curtain between us. I hear the clanking of the police hand cuffs. Drug overdose. Every one sick and hurt are at the hospital. I don't want to go. So much pain. So much misery. So much. Too much for me. I hate hospitals.

I need a party. Hospital party, well, I guess so. All family friends and co-workers are from the hospital. Their kids I can play with. That's not so bad. Played volleyball. Game winning spike. Gift shop is okay. Doctors and nurses are alright, I guess. Security guards say Hi. Ambulances with the blaring sirens and flashing lights are cool. Hospital green jello is my favorite. I still don't love the hospitals like I used to.

Code. . .Huh?
Time passes. Took mom to the hospital, Again. LCH. Lancaster Community Hospital. 6 in the morning. Pick her up at 7:30 at night. Used to drop her off at 7 at night, then pick her up 7 in the morning. No more graveyard shifts. She's got to watch her Dancing with the Stars. 8 pm it starts. She walks in. Automatic doors open. Says "Bye" to the nurses leaving. Stethoscope around her neck and lunch bag in hand. She walks into the battlefield. She goes into the struggle where life and death happen every single day. As the door open, over the speaker. "Code: Blue. Code: Blue. Code: Blue." It means, everyone get ready.

Code Blue: Heart attack patient coming in. Code Red: Fire. Code Green: Combative person using physical force. Code Brown. defecating person. Code Amber: Child Abduction. Code Pink: Infant Abduction. (Sometimes, its nurse being harassed by doctor. Keep this on the down low, not a very pleasant occurrence) Code Grey: Combative person no weapon. Code Orange: Show of force. Code Yellow: Missing patient. Code Rainbow: Riot.

Angels Roam the Hospital
My mom is one of them. She battles every single day. She works in CCU. Her patients are the terminally ill, post op from heart surgery, Swine flu, isolation. 500 lb morbidly obese that need 6 nurses to roll over. Stabbed inmates. Failed suicide attempts. Car accidents in full body casts. Psych patients that did not take their meds.

Mom guards her patients from the Grim Reaper. She also welcomes and introduces them to Death. Ravages and pains of cancer riddles the young and old. Like Rochelle. Like Tatay. Or accident cases. Like Mike. Like Andreas, my neighbor's son. She has a cordial relationship with Death. There is a Hate/ Not-so-much Hate with Death. Its just the way it is. She goes on with her business. Like every female Filipino, its her calling. Nursing. She liked the white uniform. She wears blue scrubs these days.

Mom gives the patients meds. She checks IV bags and life monitors. Gives her reports. Replaces dressing. She reviews student nurses work. She problems solves. For two shifts, nurses were wondering why there was no stool in plastic bag. Patient report read symptom, diarrhea. Last night, mom scolded the male student nurse. She asked why the tube is not in the patient's anus. Its in the other orifice. She sternly asks if he knows the difference. (She's laughing on the inside) They insert the tube in the correct hole. 700 cc. Jackpot. Its a gusher. NICE. Yuck.

Kaiser, I Hope
I've decided. I will work in the hospital, too. Not because I want to wipe, I don't. As a Pharmacy Tech, I hope. You see, the hospital is my second home. I grew up here. Good memories and bad experiences. And everything in the middle. I'd like to see more angels before I go to heaven. Haven't seen too many Angels lately. Seeing Angels makes me believe in a higher source. Anyways, here she comes. Dancing with the Stars starts in 30 minutes. Tom Delay broke his foot. He's out. Leaving for the hospital. Maya is not bad. Kathy Ireland is stiff. Who is going to get eliminated? Yes, I know the the car is too cold. I will roll up the window, mom. Got to get her home. Her show starts in 15 minutes.