Bringing Life (and just one of its aspects) Into Perspective

Back when I first started blogging, I had MANY friends who were regular bloggers. Blogging was the fad of the time and many were dedicated to the challenge that the up-keep of a blog presented. Over the past year or so, many of those with whom's blogs I followed originally have deserting their blogs, or discontinued them all together. Still, some have continued, as well as some new bloggers have come along. For me, I have gone through spells. I still find myself often in thought during the day and thinking what a great blog entry I could make out of the thoughts in my head, but nowadays, more often then not, those thoughts never reach the keyboard. I've had times when I've thought about giving my blog up. I've had times when I've gone through posting droughts, but to this day I have continued to keep my blog going, even when I feel it is nothing like what I originally started it out being and some of the blogs I felt so happy with from "back in the day."

But something that keeps my blog going today is the connection I feel through it. It's funny because there really isn't any of my closest friends that read this blog, but what I do know is that there ARE people that read it. And honestly, if it weren't for my sitemeter that keeps track of how many people visit my blog, many of my readers I would probably never know about because most of my readers do not leave comments.

Now, while comments are great and all, I too know about the process of being a regular reader of a blog site, but never leaving comments. Sometimes we choose to not leave comments because we don't want others to know we are reading their blog and other times we are simply not inclined to leave any thoughts on the topic at hand; whatever the case, both are legitimate reasons in my opinion. But, on the author's end of things, I can say there's something special about just knowing people regularly stop into your blog. Now whether they actually read it or not, who knows....HA! But knowing that they make the effort to check for updates, gives a blog life. Not only that, but there's nothing quite like the feeling of seeing someone link your blog up to their own--that in itself is like getting the A+ grade hung up on the refridgerator! Not to mention when some of the people linking your blog on theirs are people you don't even know personally! HA! What a good feeling!

So why do I bring this all up today? Am I soliciting for comments? No. Am I soliciting for readers to make their selves known? No. Am I wanting my blog to be linked to more people's blogs? No.

I bring this up today, because of a connection I believe my blog has brought to me. It is a connection that has impacted my life for some time, but more heavily over the past week, and especially the past three days.

One of my readers happens to be someone that I went to undergraduate school with. This young lady (who actually is older than me, but we are both still young ladies) was a couple years ahead of me in school, but we got to know one another through our social club. I think it's fair to say that we never really got very close while in school together, even through our many social club activities together, and even though she was the mentoring officer over my pledge class the year I joined. After she graduated (and then I eventually did a couple years later), we really didn't see one another or keep in contact as time moved on.

Then sometime back (and honestly, I'm not sure when it was), I came to find out she had come across my blogsite from someone elses--or something like that, as we all know how we stumble across acquaintances websites accidently--and she had begun following my blog. At somepoint she ended up leaving a comment, which led me to knowing she was a reader, and I was able to get to her blogsite from there and since that time I think we've both been rather regular readers of one another's sites.

Now what always seems to amaze me about blogs is how though someone might not know someone personally (or even if you have met that author before, but maybe never really had been very close to the individual), you can seem to find a closeness to someone through his/her writings. There is a bond that can form when someone writes personal accounts or shares his/her thought processes with another via a written prose. It really does just make me smile thinking about it! It amuses me too because more often than not, I find myself thinking to myself, "why didn't I enrich my life with this individual before now?!" People are just so amazing and worth investing our time with!

So there I was, forming what seemed to be a new bond with this social club sister of mine. Via her blogsite, I seemed to follow her job processes; she talked about her dog; I learned about her recent marriage and her joy with her husband. It was as if I knew more about her now, without having even seen her or heard her voice, than I did those many months we had spent in the same rooms together in college.

So when her mother fell ill about a month ago and she began sharing with her blog readers about this stage of her life, I continued to read...

As the blog posts kept coming, her mother's status got more and more unpredictable. It started as she was going into the hospital on Oct. 15th with what was believed to be a complicated case of pneumonia (as she had been struggling with it for several weeks at that point). Rather quickly, in efforts to find out the placement of the fluid in her lungs in order to drain them, the doctors discovered she did not have fluid in the lungs after all (1). So then the docs decided it must have been that she had been exposed to some toxins for some period of time, so they needed to do a biopsy of a piece of the lung to try to figure out the toxicology status (2). Then a matter of a week later her mother gets diagnosed with "free air" in her abdomen, which resulted in having to have a portion of her colon removed (3), still no diagnosis for the lung situation at this time...

The morning of Saturday, Oct. 27th, a matter of 12 days after being admitted to the hospital with what was believed to be pneumonia, my friend's mother was given a diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis and told she wouldn't have much longer to live. As the hours began to pass, her mother continued to go downhill, and by the evening hours of that same day the family was told she was not expected to make it through the night. Later that night she passed away (4).

Despite the length of this blog, I am ultimately speechless concerning this situation. I'm dumbfounded to think what it must be like to be in my friend's situation. There hasn't been a day pass since I got news of her situation Saturday morning that I haven't had the thought of my friend and the situation cross my mind several times throughout the day. It all just seems too unbelievable to me....

How does one go into the hospital with what is believed to be pneumonia and then pass away less than two weeks later from something else?! Sure, pneumonia can be deadly, but that's typically in elderly individuals who are not getting medical treatment for it [or maybe this is just my ignorant understandings of pneumonia]. So with this thought processing of mine, it just seems to "routine" in a way to think of someone going into the hospital with a pneumonia diagnosis. In no way would I have expected such a turn of events.

It's just so hard to think of what it must be like to be the family in a situation like this. My heart just aches for my friend and her husband, her brother, and her father. Of course, I can't imagine what all they are going through and dealing with based on this situation--as none of us can.

I guess this has really put this whole life thing into perspective. It truly is a state of being that can be taken from any of us in the most unexpectant of ways at anytime.

With a lack of words for what to say next, or even how to try to begin to bring comfort, I want to simply leave you with my friend's blogsite, and ask that you keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

Autopsy Details

Did you know that medical examiner's records are apparently "open records"? Well that was what I recently learned of, so if you're interested in the details of that gruesome murder you heard about on the news, feel free to request a copy of the autopsy from the office of the medical examiner that performed it (for a small fee of $5).

So last week I requested the autopsy results on my friend and her husband who killed her and then killed himself. I anxiously rummaged through the mail as soon as it arrived today HOPING to find my reports. BINGO! They had come in!

My first interest was to immediately flip to the last page of her husbands to where I was told the results of the toxicology report were. And the verdict:

Clean. The man was completely free of alcohol and drugs when he killed his wife!

Now, as a man with a history of social usage of cocaine, 99.9% of the people that knew my friend and knew her husband and his "social ways" were SURE he had to have been "coked up" at the time of the killings, but we now have the report proving our assumptions wrong.

So this led to our new theory...

We think he accidently killed her. We even have considered that thought that he didn't even mean to pull the trigger...

As we have recalled some of the witness testimony, we have been able to put together a possible story suggesting that the murder was a complete accident and when he later learned of the results of his actions (or mistake, whatever it ended up being), he couldn't live with the thought of what he'd done and that's when he chose to take his own life.

We do know that he lived for several hours after her passing. And we know he got word of his wife's passing and that that was when he said, "without my wife I don't want to live." So, with that chain of events, I am led to believe that HAD he had this whole day planned...had he planned on killing his wife and then taking his own life, he wouldn't have waited around to hear his wife's status before taking his own life. I have reason to believe that he would have taken his life in a rather short period of time after shooting her. Not to mention, if he had planned on shooting her to kill, I believe he would have shot her in a different place on her body (as he shot her in the lower back area just above the waist) and that he would have shot more than once.

My friend's reported "Manner of Death: homicide." The report states that the bullet entered the right side of her lower back and perforated fifth lumbar vertebra, the right common iliac vain, the right common iliac artery, the mesentery of the small intestine and then exited out the left side of abdoninal wall.

Due to the bullet hitting the iliac artery and vein, there was no hope for my friend. After speaking with a medical professional I was told that it wouldn't take but a matter of minutes for an individual to die after damaging the iliac artery OR the iliac vein. Seeings how she had both "hit" there was no way she could have been helped, even had medical attention been provided almost immediately.

It's crazy to hear these stories about people being shot 8 or 9 times, or being stabbed repeatedly and living through the experience. But then to think of someone being hit once with a bullet in the lower back of ALL places and it killing them almost immediately, with minimal blood exiting the external wounds. It's bizarre, but at the same time, it is a reminder of how fragile we all can be.

One lesson learned...

Don't jack around the guns, they truly can be deadly, whether meant to be or not. Accidents CAN happen and the guilt left from them can be just as deadly.

Hurting for the Sisterhood

It's special how no matter how people might grow apart over time and with relocation leaving long distances separating one another, the unity that a sisterhood can bring stil has the power to leave many hurting when one of their own is hit with devastating news.

Yesterday, I heard the news of one of my GATA sister's losing her husband of two years as yet another casualty in Iraq...

Friday, Lt. John Edds was killed in Iraq. Here and here are two stories reporting the situation.

Many thoughts and prayers are going out for those loved ones he left behind, especially his wife, Laura [Russell] Edds, and his parents and two brothers.

Though I haven't kept good communication with Laura since our college days, I still felt a sickening hurt, as well as a yearning to comfort feeling as soon as I got the news.

What a sad situation...

Common Senses

In elementary school when we do the units on the 5 senses they seem so cool. It’s THE FIVE SENSES!!! We go through a phase where much emphasis is placed on each sense and on noting the experiences brought about by each sense. Each sense is viewed as so important and such a crucial aspect of experiencing life’s events.

Our teacher quizzes us over which sense we use to identify different objects. Did you note the smell? Was it the sound you heard? What flavor did it taste like? Did you run your finger across its surface?

There’s no doubt the senses are amazing and essential to our everyday lives, but how close attention to do give them as we get older? Do we begin to take them for granted? What if one of our senses was suddenly taken from us? Would we once again experience the appreciation for that sense? Would it be a feeling of sudden loss?

I think as we grow accustom to our senses, we begin to take them for granted. We begin to experience the senses as just commonalities. We get to a point where they are just our common senses, rather than THE FIVE SENSES!!!

As life moves along we forget to note the details. We ignore the pleasantries that the senses can provide us. The saying “stop and smell the roses” is just one example of how we get to a point of missing out on what the senses can add to life.

Though we may not consciously note the experiences our senses provide us with on a daily basis, they play a larger role in our life than we give them credit for most the time…

If you’ve ever lost a loved one that you had regular interactions with, it’s in the days following the loss that your senses remind you of their presence. For example…

Pictures of that loved one become MUCH more present following their death than before. People find themselves surrounding themselves with photographs of the individual. We miss seeing the person and photos are the last visual we have for our sense of sight.

People long to touch their loved one again. They miss the casual touches, the embraces, the romantic touches. Many long for that last opportunity to place a hand on the body at the funeral. Sure, we realize they will not feel the same then—that touch will be different—but we long for the sense of touch again. We want to hold that shirt he/she always wore. We want to hug the stuff animal he/she loved.

The sound of one’s voice takes on a new meaning. We long to hear the loved one’s voice again. We’ll call voicemail machines, just to hang-up at the sound of the beep merely to get to hear their voice one last time. We save voicemail messages left from them on our phones. We refuse to erase the recorded messages knowing that they can never be recreated.

The loss of a romantic partner can leave an individual missing a taste. One wanting to revisit the taste of a romantic kiss. Missing the taste left behind after a goodbye kiss.

Smells are often taken for granted in life, but they are some of the most noted reminders after a loved one passes. His/her perfume or cologne. The smell of one’s shampoo lingering from their freshly cleansed hair. The mere smell of one’s body scent. We each have a unique body scent that is often only noted after spending much time in one’s presence, particularly in one’s home. We smell every shirt of his/hers. We can smell them on their belongings. We want to smell their clothes that smell like them or the pillow they once laid their head on. The child’s blanket or stuff animal they slept with still carries their body scent. It’s those smells that we find ourselves taking in deeply when we get a chance to re-experience them after losing the being that they are associated with.

The revisiting of the senses following a loss can come quickly and last for different periods of time. Some will find it hard to past the visual reminders. Some will continually fix their sights on photos. Some will never erase the voice recordings. Others will use no other cologne to engulf their surroundings. Maybe its one sense connecting a person with their loved one, or maybe it’s four or five senses; whatever the case, the senses leave their common state and become alive again.

It’s amazing how THE FIVE SENSES affect our daily interactions with one another! Truly take in every sight, every smell, every taste, every sound, and every touch, because you don’t know when it might be gone for good.

The Storm and The Sunshine

The eye of the storm hit on June 29th, but the rains had been falling long before. The storm had even been predicted as time is allowing us to see…

I have to let go before he ends up killing me…

Over the past couple of weeks I find myself intrigued by the thoughts of “did she have an idea of what was about to happen?” I can’t help but continually put parts together that make me think that that was a possibility.

If she’d known, why did she go? That’s the question so many are asking. If she herself had admitted to the possibility of him killing her, why did she continue to see him, even after the fervent pleas from loving co-workers to “stay away!”?

It’s something many can’t understand. It’s something that many refuse to understand. But it’s something that happens over and over in the lives of many…

What it boils down to is what those of us on the outside don’t know. There’s always more than what you know. And this storm has blown off the roof of a situation exposing sooo much that was never seen before.

Since the events of June 29th I’ve seen and heard more than most connected to this event have:

…I’ve been in an ER “family room” and had the news “broke” of a loved one’s passing.
…I’ve broke the news to two young innocent children that their parents were dead.
…I’ve seen the eyes of the middle child burn into my own through both of our tears as she was to be saying to me through that stare, “tell me it isn’t true.” All I could do was look back as if to say, “I wish more than anything that I could.”
…I’ve seen how resilient children can be during trying times.
…I got in the car of my friend only a matter of hours after her death to find her driver’s side visor pulled down with the mirror left open and the light on the mirror still on. To just think that she had made sure she looked well for what ended up being her last minutes on earth.
…I walked the charred remains of the hotel room in which the murderer took my friend’s life and later his own.
…I saw the dried blood left behind from the killer himself.
…I spoke with the man who made a heroic effort to save my friend; the stranger who risked his own life to save her. The man who was with her during her last breathes.
…I’ve heard the detailed story of a defenseless woman’s struggle for her own life, while at the hands of her abuser who claimed he loved her.
…I’ve walked the steps where she struggled down and then fell down and clasped at the bottom.
…I helped two mother-less girls pack their belongings into trash-bags and baskets as they said goodbye to a house in which they knew as their “home” only a day before.
…I hugged the distraught mother and brother of my friend only two days after the event as I delivered her two youngest grandchildren to her, so they could reunite with their older brother and begin accepting a new life-style with their new guardian in life.
…I’ve heard many ask “why?”
…I’ve seen many cry without having an interest in stopping.
…I’ve seen those individuals who are seldom short-on-words speechless.
…I’ve seen the bruising still showing through on my friend’s face, even after the make-up artist at the funeral home had applied the dark-colored foundation.
…I’ve seen the chipped manicured finger nails of a woman who obviously went through a struggle in her last moments of life.
…I’ve seen the face of a person left to lie to rest with an expression of fear, rather than one of peace, shown across her face.

In a matter of days the movies came alive for me. In a matter of minutes I went from knowing my friend was missing to knowing she was dead. In a matter of seconds one of my biggest fears of losing a close friend came to haunt me.

In a time period of eight months I worked one-on-one with victims of domestic violence situations. I heard the stories. I understood how real they were. I knew it could happen to anyone, but on June 29th, it hit home.

Even after the eye of the storm hit, the rains continued for days…

Things were different.

For me, the immediate days to follow were laced with strength from a desire to be strong for those less fortunate as me. Sure, I had lost a dear friend, but I still had a mom and dad. I was still going to be able to sleep in the bed I had slept in the night before. I wasn’t going to be moving to a different city without forewarning and leaving behind the friends I knew. Even in the darkness of the situation, I reminded myself that I was gratefully blessed.

Things were moving fast those first few days. So much to be done and taken care of—there really wasn’t much time to think about taking care for one’s self. Eating and sleeping were put on the back burner—for MANY people.

Reminiscent thoughts would pop into mind depending on what was going on at the time: thoughts of fun memories with my friend, thoughts of my friend with her children, thoughts of situations from work, and so many more. It was thoughts that were unavoidable, but thoughts that were also necessary for coping.

Many commented on how my training must have been so beneficial for such a time. How it must have been helpful in breaking the news of the deaths to the children. How it must have equipped me for helping grieving friends and co-workers.

Honestly, when it’s a personal situation, one can’t be expected to provide for others until he/she has provided for his/her self first. It isn’t a selfish matter. It’s a matter of one being just as human as the next.

I’ll tell you one advantage I believe my training has allotted me through this all…

I understand the importance of grieving and allowing it to happen and not being afraid of how it might have to occur.

I knew I wasn’t eating like my body needed and sleeping like I needed that first week following the storm’s devastation. But I knew that was not out of the norm for the circumstances. I wasn’t afraid to admit to it and accept that that was a phase and it would pass if I allowed it to happen.

I carefully monitored my behaviors and symptoms that first week. I noted how I was following the typical patterns of grievance. I recalled specifics in my responses to the situation that were obvious denial, anger, depression, etc.

I remember “trying” to go to sleep (and then eventually succeeding after many hours of trying) on that second night following the death. That day, I had had my eyes opened to SOOO much of what I had NOT known about in my friend’s life and I had found myself very angry. I was upset! I was obviously angry with her husband’s behaviors, but I was also upset with my friend…

How could she not have told me some of that which had been going on?! With as MUCH as she had always shared with me concerning her and his relationship, how could she have chosen to not share this information?! Had she had shared this with myself or ANY of the others of us who she confided in often about her situation, who knows, the events of the 29th could have possibly been avoided…

I was MAD that night!

It wasn’t until the next morning that I awoke from my slumber in which I truly believe my friend had granted me the reminders of my trainings and shed the light on the “why”. I was no longer mad at my friend for not having told me, because I believed I now understood why she felt she couldn’t tell me (or anyone else). In a way I felt like it was a “DUH” moment for me. I was like, “OF COURSE! It all makes sense now! I can’t be upset with her for not saying anything to me.”

So from “anger” I quickly moved into true grievance depression. I realized it and knew how important it was to let it run its course and not be ashamed of it.

It wasn’t until the Tuesday night memorial service our work-family hosted, following the events of that past Friday, that I first felt a breathe of relief. It was during that service that I found myself as one of the six who were willing to get up in front of the more than 150 attendees and share a handful of my memories of my friend. A matter of hours after my friend’s passing I knew I would want and need to share some remarks concerning my friend. It’s something I would want to do for any of my friend’s, so I knew this would be no different.

Following that service I felt more at peace. I remember driving from the church to the restaurant afterwards (to meet up with several of the others from the service to have yet another memory filled time of eating and reminiscing about our friend) and hearing on the radio the song “The Prayer” by Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli. I had heard it before, but I think maybe only once and a LONG time prior to this night. I remember as I listened to it as I drove, I found myself thinking how beautiful it was and how it seemed like a perfect song for the time. I went home that night and downloaded it and have already listened to it some nearly 100 times on my iPod.

That week following the event was the remaining rains left behind by the storm. I was “wet” for several days, but slowly and surely the sun came back out.

The week closed with the final goodbyes on Saturday in Houston at the funeral where approximately 15 or 20 of our staff and their family members had our opportunity to view the body, take in the funeral service, and attend the burial service at the cemetery. The body did not resemble our friend that we had hopped to receive closure by viewing. It was a unanimous decision that the “picture” we saw there was not that of our “happy” co-worker and friend. It was hard seeing her in the state we saw. Bruised, roughed up, and looking fearful. It wasn’t a picture of how we wanted or planned to remember her. But at the same time, it gave us a chance to end the chapter of the week before and begin acceptance.

It can sound disrespectful to say we have to accept such a situation and move on, but it is a part of completing the grieving process.

Today, I can say I have accepted that my friend has passed. Sure, I will always miss her, but I realize that hating and remaining depressed will not bring her back. I understand that now what has to be done is getting the message out about such a situation in hopes of avoiding a similar event. I know that now the focus has to be on those three young children. I know that’s what my friend would want the focus on.

The sunshine is coming out…

I can honestly say that without the amazing support I personally have received during this difficult time, as well as the support the rest of my friend’s close friends have received, the darkness following the tragic event would still be lingering.

I have been blessed with AMAZING friends who have been SOOOO supportive during this time for me. I have gotten SOOO many messages from friends saying how they were praying for me and my friend’s family. So many encouraging notes and outlets for if I needed to talk.

I have seen our work-place come together as only a “family” can. People have been so supportive of one another. I’ve seen so many wonderful things being done in response to the events that took place.

1.) There was the memorial service we put on locally for those unable to attend the funeral service in Houston.
2.) The “in memory of” pictures hung throughout our office, reminding us of the beautiful smile and joy our friend brought to our work spaces.
3.) The flowers and pictures honoring our friend’s life that now rest in our waiting room area at work.
4.) The trust fund that one of our doctors worked IMMEDIATELY on getting opened following the event to start raising money for the three young children.
5.) The money that has already been collected in the fund by co-workers, doctors, friends, our patients at the clinic, etc.
6.) The co-workers who are setting up a monthly contribution of their own to go into the trust fund.
7.) The tree we had planted in our friend’s name outside our office. The dedication time we shared in as an office family of dedicating the tree one afternoon. Our encircling the tree and holding hands as tears flowed and people prayed and we thought of our friend as we each tossed in some soil on the tree.
8.) The co-workers that are purchasing domestic violence bracelets to wear in honor of our friend.
9.) The annual garage sale we are planning to start having every September to raise money for the children’s trust fund.
10.) The co-workers who are calling businesses to get donations for the childrens’ school supplies and school clothes for the up-coming school year.
11.) The co-workers who are contacting businesses to get donations, such as gift-cards, for us to raffle off at the garage sale to raise more money for the childrens’ fund.

And this is just what I can think of right now. I know there’s more that has gone on.

Sure, we all still miss seeing our friend bee-bopping around the office. We miss her jokes, her laugh, her pranks, but we know we can now take this time to try to pay her back for the happiness she shared with us, by doing what we know would make her happy in this situation—taking care of her three children that she loved SOOOOO dearly!

Things are different, there’s no doubt.

The storm came and left its mark that will always be here; but the sun has come back out and we are able to smile in the thought that we can use the rains from the storm to bring flowers and new life.

Death

I'm interested in thoughts concerning death. Just anything in relation to it...