Don't Let the Snake Bite

The snake took a turn towards me right after I took this picture.
Run Linda, run!
We love the new baby pine cones on the pine tree next to our second story balcony.
(If pictures this size slow you guys down too much, please comment and let me know. )

I lost this story while trying to fix pictures that were upside down. (Don't you hate having to re-create something!) The magnifying glass broke and a fly dropped in my Dr. Pepper. I should have just gone to bed with Jim...

But it was a wonderful 72 degrees sunny day with a slightly cool breeze that was great for walking along the little pond where we live or driving with the window down and letting my hair blow.

The snake swam in front of two geese while I was taking pictures. (The geese pictures are upside down and I can't get Adobe to fix them. The message says I'm low on space?) The snake was moving along at a rapid pace across the pond when it suddenly turned toward me! It came right out of the water toward me but I didn’t wait around to see how much of a bite he wanted to take out of my ankle!

Jim says that Ohio only has “black snakes” that swim, but this was dark brown with other brown markings – although truth be said – I really didn’t hang around to check closely.

There was laundry to be done at the quarter-hungry laundry mat. Winter spreads to wash and put away for summer. Dryers that took all my quarters and then stopped dead after 2 minutes and of course, no manager around to return my money.

While waiting for the film to develop, I wanted to wash the grass clippings off the car but that machine also ate my quarters and stopped after 15 seconds. With half the car wet, I had no choice but to spend $6 on the drive-through. I banged on the door, but once again, the manager was out taking a walk in the park, I suppose.

I tried to outrun two fire trucks and a police car and I’m sure the cop would have loved to pull me over, but by the time he came up behind me, I decided to pull over. Up ahead the two fire trucks ran the red-light and then realized they should have turned right – the way I was turning. They made a complete U-turn and came back to the intersection. What I saw when I came up to all the activity was two cars that barely bumped together, but two ladies were screaming at each other and being held apart by the firemen and police.

Floyd Phillips has a blog now, thanks to an “old friend” who encouraged the idea. Jim says Floyd’s writing adds new meaning to blogging or religion, he isn’t sure which. Floyd and Tania are friends from many years. He used to baby-sit Billy and Philip at Laurelbrook. He and Tania sang at our early morning sunrise wedding. He plays the piano by ear and can play anything he’s heard once or twice. My "seventh-heaven" is to sit and listen to Floyd play the piano. Okay, his blog site is clayfootsteps.blogspot.com Add that to your favorites for some unusually deep thinking reading. Comments would be welcome, I'm sure.

The News of the Day is that I am now the PROUD OWNER of an Ebay Store called Angelwings Attic. I’ve listed my book there. (It’s the only way I could list something I wanted to sell more than one of.) I’ve wanted to do that for years and last night I worked the Live Help to set it up. It will cost $15 a month to keep and feel free to let me know if you have something you’d like me to sell for you. I don’t know how to tell you how to find the store but I can send you a link straight from the site so you can view it.

Jim got an interview call today. It’s the orphanage here in Columbus where he was dropped off as a baby. (You didn’t know that about him, did you?) He will hear something next week, hopefully. He calls it “full circle” if he gets the job, but I'm not expecting that to happen. Guess we're both a little disheartened about the job prospects.

Today was grass cutting day for the apartment complex where we live. I missed the Mexicans! (Yes, I ran to the window to check when I heard the lawn mowers!) Cute blond American men and girls wearing short shorts just aren't the same! I'm saddened and worried because I know the Mexicans have families here and no place to go back to! They can't get unemployemnt or welfare! Yes, I know they aren't legal, don't vote and don't pay taxes. And, the government should address the problem of influx, but they do work harder than most Americans, and they do work no one else will do! I miss them even though the only words we ever shared were, "No English" and "No Spanish".

Everybody think of Sandy on Thursday as she gets an invasive test done on her back. Send her good vibes and get well wishes. Her email address is busborin@aol.com . You know her blogsite as catsandsplats.blogspot.com

Take Care on the Journey - and watch out for those snakes in the grass!
~Linda

It costs $9,000

Hi Everybody,

Now that I’ve gotten my days right again (I get mixed up with I work a night), I’m ready for Monday – or is it still Sunday? I’m glowing a little because I got to chat with some of my favorite people over the weekend. Billy was in a bit of a hurry (understandably so - see Katy’s blog katyandbilly.blogspot.com) and Philip was taking a nap when I called. Denise and I caught up on baby news; and I chatted with good friends, Floyd and Tania.

Samantha is doing much better (again). She kept Jim up several times during the night wanting assistance from the bed to the dresser for food and water. He tried to move the kitty dishes closer but she still goes back to the old spot. Senile too, I guess. But, she seems happy and content. Not in any pain.

Work was busy. Some things I can't write about because of privacy issues. But, I can explain about the $9,000.

I was trying to get bedtime meds passed and it seemed that EVERYBODY wanted a bedtime pain pill. That means signing out the narcotic and recording it extra for every pill. It always takes more time to pass meds when they all want pain pills and/or sleeping pills. I had a couple patients who wanted sleeping pills at a certain time too, so I had to remember to go back.

Finally, I got to the 10:30 p.m. sleeping pill patient. I was mentally ticking off in my head how many more I needed to get done very soon before I would be out of compliance with med pass time. As I was turning to walk away, my patient said, “Do you have a minute to answer a question?”

Knowing that his roommate was restless for his meds, and the lady in the next room was expecting her pain pills now, I tried to sound sincere when I said, “Sure. How can I help you?”

“Well, they say I have two choices in the next few days. I can either go home or go to the other hall (long term care) because I’ve run out of days I can stay here. I was just wondering if I paid for it, can I stay here because I really like you guys and I don’t want to leave?”

I knew instantly what he was talking about. I work the skilled unit where most patients have 100 days for skilled care to be covered by Medicare. Most of the time, whatever therapy they need is successful and the patient is usually ready go home to family or spouse. But, occasionally a patient has no one else to take care of them, and they aren’t strong enough to live alone. It’s the ‘end-of-the-line' that we all think will not happen to us.
How do I tactfully explain to my patient that he can’t stay in this unit? He seems to honestly believe that it’s possible if he wants to stay there.

In this case, I remind him of all the nurses and other staff that he likes and explain that if he goes to the other hall, some of those same people will still take care of him because most of us work both halls.

But, he insists. “How much would I have to pay to stay here?”

“Honestly” I say with slow hesitation. “It would probably cost you about $300/day or about $9,000 a month to live on a skilled unit like this one. That’s why it wouldn’t be the best choice. I think you’ll like the other hall and I promise to come visit you over there.”

He still shakes his head no.

“I don’t ask for much. I've been in four different nursing homes in the last year. I have no one left. I'm afraid. Could I please just stay here where you are all so nice and I get such good care?”

I smiled and turned to his roommate.

There was nothing more I could say except, “I’ll see you on Monday where ever you are.”

It was difficult to fall asleep when I got home. I kept hearing his pleading voice asking,

"How much would it cost...?"

Take Care on Your Journey

~Linda

To order, "Dusty Angels and Old Diaries", go to Authorhouse.com

Say It Ain't So, Daddy

Samantha just celebreated a quiet 100th birthday resting in her favorite spot snuggled next to Daddy Jim.

I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. and Samantha was cold and still. She didn't move when I touched under her chin and when I wiggled the blankie she was lying on.

As I lay there wondering how long I would have to wait for Jim to awaken, he stirred and reached out to touch Samantha as he always does.
I grabbed his arm and said, "No, she died."

But, just then Samantha lifted her head and rubbed her chin against his hand as she tried feebly to stand on useless back legs. Samantha must be on her 98th life!

Tell mommy "It ain't so!" she purred to Daddy Jim.

This picture was taken a few minutes ago.

Take Care on the Journey - However long or short it is!
~Love, Linda

Odds and Ends...

I still need to learn how to download pictures from the web. Any instructions would be appreciated. (Smile Sandy)

I'm off to work the night shift. See you later - right here.

Take Care on the Journey
~Linda

Sleepless in Columbus

At 11:30 p.m., I thought I was so tired I’d fall asleep before I could turn on the little fan beside my bed.

By 12:30 a.m., there are so many thoughts racing around in my head that they seem to light up the room!

Not surprising, because three nights a week I work all night at the nursing home. My body is perpetually tired and my mind is always on guard to stay awake. One would think I’d have a nice slow paced nursing job at last, but it’s unbelievable how extremely busy a nurse can be all night long. That’s one of my worries. There’s more responsibilities there than one nurse should ever be burdened with, but administration thinks it’s just a matter of organization – or disorganization - as is hinted at.

I have 40 patients and 30 assisted living patients on three wings that I run back and forth from as I pass meds, take vitals, change dressings, monitor feeding tubes, hang IV’s, and monitor conditions. I answer the phones, deal with irate families, take doctors orders and sign for the pharmacy delivery of meds. I enter nurses’ notes into the computer, get supplies from central supply and monitor the aides (who do not take the vital signs). If someone calls off, it’s my job to find a replacement. If a patient goes bad, it’s my responsibility to decide what to do about it. If someone dies, it’s my duty to call the family, the doctor and the mortuary. If we get an admission, I do all the assessment and admission papers. On the day shift, at least four nurses do admissions and three nurses work the halls.

The unit coordinator is trying to get administration to put additional nurses (or nurse) on nights. She asked me to write out the details of what I do. Maybe I’ll just cut and paste that paragraph on a note to her…

For instance, last week as I was making rounds at 4 a.m. and shining my flashlight on each patient, I noticed one didn’t look right. To make a long story short, she was having a diabetic reaction (low blood sugar) and was non-responsive. I almost hadn’t done that walk because I’d gotten a new admission and had been behind all night. (I don’t think other nurses take time to make rounds. I told Jim it was that angel on my shoulder again.) I called the doctor and gave a glycogen shot and brought her out of it. I’d rather have called 911 and sent her to the ER for that, but the doctor thought “we” could handle it there. Yea, he only had to say three words, “give the shot.”

Then there’s my book – still unpublished! I’m sure everyone thinks I forgot to send them a copy last Christmas (2005). Here it is the middle of April (2006) and I’m still wrestling with proper wording, long sentences, useless commas and those terrible semi-colons!

Here’s one for you. What’s the verb to use in this sentence? “The time-worn diary and its sister memoirs is/are the foundation for Linda’s book…Even the editors can’t agree!

Of course every sunrise brings the anticipation that Jim may get a call from one of his many job interviews! Should he just give up trying to obtain a permanent job with good benefits, take the retirement from Ohio and work part-time at the grocery store? Or, will the state job come through that he interviewed for last week. That meeting seemed to go so well! Today we drove over to Marysville where that job would be located. We looked at housing options? Should we rent an apartment again? Find a piece of property and try to build a little home? Rent a house in the country? Build a cabin in the woods? Stay where we are and travel one hour each way?

Jim and I often discuss Billy and Katy in the process of buying their first home. How exciting! I miss being there and being involved! I’d love to say, “Here, take this and go pick out some new furniture!” I’d never tell them this, but I divulged to Jim tonight that if Katy and Billy ever have my grandchild, I’d want to move to Portland.

I think Jim almost fell out of his chair (but he quickly checked himself). So, when Billy or Katy reads this blog, maybe they will fall off their chair – but they didn’t hear me say that anyway. The truth is, at last word, neither of my boys were opting for kids. But the real truth is, who knows about mother nature and human minds.

Actually, I surprised myself when I said that. But suddenly sitting there eating supper with Jim and quietly discussing our life and its options, that thought just seemed so comforting and the right thing to do!

“Well, I’m up to it,” Jim said.

I thought he was talking about the new job.

“We could sell most of our furniture and make the trip in sections.”

Opps, he wasn’t talking about the new job.

“I could get a nursing license in several states and we could stop and let me work along the way to pay for the move,” I countered.

“Just so we get a bed the same size as the one we have. Sheba and the cat would have a fit if we got a smaller bed,” Jim commented.

So, with those and other disquieting ideas and worries as I lay sleepless, I slipped out of bed. Trying not to disturb Samantha curled up between us, I slid to the foot of the bed so as not to disturb Sheba sleeping on her back on the floor beside the bed. Clicking the computer on and snapping open a diet Dr. Pepper, I sat down to decide if I’d surf the net or write on my blog at 1 a.m. in the morning.

Wow! How could I forget another “biggie”? My mom fell and broke her shoulder last week and is in a nursing home for a while! She’s 78 years old.

That information from a brother I haven’t talked to in over a year! Not that we don’t get along. Actually, our reunions are joyous occasions! But, they all live in Connecticut and everybody is busy. Mom is always on the go. And of course, we haven’t always been a ‘family’.

I got an email from my brother Billy “Bones”. You’ll read about him and the others in my book. I didn’t know he had my email address. My Christmas card, I guess. I always load the Christmas cards with all the information I can gather. He indicated that mom fell and was in the hospital. I emailed back with my phone number. (I didn’t have his.) Today he called and left a message while I was sleeping and then another message while Jim and I were out.

So, I called the number on the caller ID and we chatted longer than we’ve ever talked in our lifetime. (Reunions aren’t conducive to long discussions.) He updated me on my brothers and sister there. The nieces and nephews are growing and grown. They’re out on their own and having kids and going to college. …And, mom is really in a nursing home!

It’s the point in my life where I have to question my responsibility or lack of it with my mom. I surely don’t want another situation like I had with grandma where taking care of her took over my life. Actually, I found her (my mom) when she was 62 years old. How much responsibility should I feel? How much love should I feel? Ouch. That’s a question that could keep one awake at night!

Back to my book. We’re at the point where they made up a “Press Release”. My contract says they will send this out to 100 news sources. They sent a press release for me to approve. When I read it, I was HOT! It was inaccurate! It was terribly written! It wasn’t even in chronological order (Katy). I read the first sentence and blew up!

“In a cold attic, among forgotten relics and scurrying mice, a lonely girl poured her heart into the pages of a worn red diary.” (There were no relics. The diary was new at the time! I was not lonely! I was in pain!)

To make it worse, the instructions order me NOT to make any changes unless the title of my book or name is spelled wrong. I sat down and wrote them a letter that starts like this.

“It must be your job to write such a terrible press release that no one will request a book review. It will pique the interest of only those editors who will laugh at the poorly written, grammatically incorrect press release that flounders around so much one wonders if it’s really about a book at all!” (Another long sentence, but maybe they will get the point.)

I listed 14 mistakes I found in the one-page release! I ended by saying that I was going to rewrite it and if they rejected it, I would spend a good portion of my book signings, web sites and PR endeavors redirecting fellow writers to another publisher!

But I’m not sending the letter until they’ve finished with the 95 corrections I sent them last week.

Well, I’m still not sleepy at 2 a.m. Sheba is beside my chair dreaming of that rabbit again. (She always gets up when she hears the snap of the pop can. She knows that means I’m up for awhile.) Jim may be sleeping or he might be lying there wide-awake, as he often is these days.

He really doesn’t deserve this. He’s so good to me. (Even if he is forgetful at times.) My schedule sometimes gets us both confused. The other day he had an interview at 10 a.m. and I had an appointment at the college about my nursing program at 11 a.m. He forgot I had the appointment and took my car to his appointment. And, he didn’t kiss me goodbye when he left because he thought I was “work sleeping” which means “don’t wake me up for goodbye kisses or phone calls.”

So, ok. I got up and took his car. A tire was almost flat. The oil light came on every time I put my foot on the brake and the trunk was full of smelly trash. My cell phone, sunglasses and windy-day hair things were in my car.

When we were reunited in the afternoon, he started to apologize for forgetting that I had an appointment. I quickly pointed out that he had five things to aplolgize for - including not kissing me goodbye. But, I said I’d forgive all but the trash. Then I noticed that he had this look that said. "there's more." He had backed into a construction can and messed up the bumper of my car. He felt so badly (and it wasn’t his fault) that I didn’t get mad or cry. (I did pout a little.) Sometimes you just have to sing the words...."Some days are golden, some days are stone."

Back to, “He's so good to me.” When I get up from sleeping too long, he knows my back is hurting and spasms so badly, I can hardly move. He has the heating pad turned on and warm in the living room chair and runs to get my robe and help me into it. He opens the morning pop can and helps me ease into the chair where, after about a half hour of the heating pad, I’ll be able to start moving around by myself.

We had a bad encounter with Sheba this week. I took her out for a potty run and two big dogs attacked her. This lady upstairs always walks her big pincher-type dogs at the same time and she cannot control them. I saw her coming back in and tried to grab Sheba, but she kept walking toward us (she was late for work, she said) until her dogs ran up to Sheba. One grabbed Sheba’s neck and one grabbed her back end they all started a big fight.

They finally backed away when I hollered like a war Indian! I ran at them screaming although I was wearing slippers and couldn’t kick them. I believe Sheba gave in although that is not her style. Both of us women were in tears before it was over! Sheba was whimpering and holding her back leg up. The other lady said she’d pay for any vet needs and gave me her apartment number, but I was too upset to remember it! I told her that her dogs had hurt my dog and I ran inside with Sheba.

Jim was gone, so Sheba and I sat on the couch, both of us whimpering! Ching-Ching kept licking Sheba and alternatingly trying to get out the door (to get those dogs, I think.)

Well, Sheba got over it quicker than I did. Jim checked her out when he got home and we couldn’t find anything but a slight tender spot in her back leg. The lady and her husband came to our apartment that night to ask about Sheba and apologize. (I told her Sheba was still in pain! Jim suggested that she not try to walk both dogs.)

Today I’ve been searching the web for information on how to break up dogfights and how to best avoid it happening again. There’s good information out there. (Grab the back legs and pull and twist.) But, I’ll leave that for those who need to know.

Now it’s 3 a.m. and Jim just walked by. He’s awake too.

I still want to write a story about work, but this is already so long I’m sure nobody will read to the end.

If so, feel free to leave me a comment so I can know that it works!

Take Care on the Journey,

~Linda

A New Link - Book is being published!

Today I added another third blog called http://lindasbook.blogspot.com

This blogsite gives the introduction to my book, Dusty Angels and Old Diaries that will be out very soon now.

You may also find this information at the publisher's site. Go to http://www.authorhouse.com and click on the link at the top of the page called Book Store. Type in the author's name (Linda Meikle) and the preview for the book should open up. Soon you can order the book from a link at that site too.

Take Care on the Journey
~Linda

First Missouri Winter

Sandra and I lived in this house during long Missouri winters! The house wasn't this broken up back then, but as young teenagers, we were often very cold, hungry and lonely. We called this "David's House" because it was built by David Westbrook in the early 60's.

This is the first chapter of my second book, Attic Secrets. My sister Sandra, said she cried while reading this chapter because "every word is so true."

See more stories at: http://missourihideaway.blogspot.com

I knew my nose was icy cold before I even opened my eyes. My feet felt like frozen cubes of ice, and my hands were numb with cold. The house was silent with the absence of any modern electronics. I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to open my eyes, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I strained my ears to determine the slightly muffled soft sounds that seemed to surround me.

After a few moments, I realized that I was hearing the faint splat of softly falling snow as it brushed against the dead leaves of the tree outside my window and landed on the tin roof above me.

With a sigh of relief, I became aware that the constant roar of a winter storm that had haunted my dreams all night, was gone. The small room was intensely silent and bitterly cold. The odor of cold mothballs, rotten Florida oranges and kitty poop permeated the icy air in the room. Slowly opening my eyes to stark white sheetrock walls, and gazing up at the heavy wooden rafters above me, it slowly filtered into my mind that I wasn’t waking up to a warm comfortable home anymore, and there would be no welcome toilet at the end of the hallway.

The small opened-ceiling room was cluttered with brown packing boxes of many shapes and sizes. Some of the boxes were torn open exposing a mix of contents thrown together in no particular order. The boxes were stacked almost to the rafters in places with a small path between the boxes leading out an open doorway to another room also filled with boxes.

Looking around me, I noticed the old Army blanket thrown across my bed had tiny ribbons of snow that had seeped in between the cracks of the shattered bedroom window during the night's winter storm.

Another bone-chilling day waited ahead. The Missouri winters wind would rip through my small coat that had no buttons as I would search under leaves and against large rocks for bits of firewood so%

Happy Holidays!

Thanks for taking a moment to visit my blogsite. It's the day before Christmas and all is quiet in our part of the planet. Billy and Katy will spend some quiet time at home in Portland while Philip and Shelley have gone to California to enjoy the company of relatives there!

The news is alive with reports of holiday travelors busy crossing the county to get home in time for Christmas where if one doesn't want to watch football or have money to go shopping, they may be slightly bored. I, for one, will be working at the nursing home on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so Jim will wait beside the aging Christmas tree and give Sheba and Ching-Ching a good bone to chew on as they wait for me to return from work.

The local dentist pulled a front tooth gone bad, and now I'm adjusting to a small partial in my mouth that feels ten times bigger than it should be! Funny, I look normal but wait until I open my mouth to talk. A cute little lisp - where did that come from?

I've taken a dozen digital picture of our 9-foot tree to share with you but can't get the camera to let in enough light for a good picture. The small picture at the top of this note is what I hope will be the front cover of my book, "Dusty Angels and Old Diaries".

Hey guys, you can write me anytime! It's lindasbook@usa.com

Take Care on the Journey,

~Linda

Second Book in Process. "Attic Secrets"

"Attic Secrets" is being created in my mind and looks to be an imaginary place to escape everyday stress, problems and people. There is no limit to what we will find in the different rooms, closets, nooks and crannies of our secret attic.

In your wildest dreams, during your lowest moments, after the greatest highs, you will always want to come back and climb the magic ladder into the welcome and accepting world of a magical, golden hideaway.

You can follow the progress of this new book at http://missourihideaway.blogspot.com

Save both of these blog sites in your favorites and check back often for new stories.

Take Care on the Journey!
I'll be back!

Linda

Ohio Fall Colors and Cabin in the Woods

Wake up! Let's run out and have some fun!
Golden leaves, apple cider and morning chill
Will only serve to give a thrill!

Restful colors in early sun...


Or, later when the day is done.


Follow life's path and be not afraid...


For heaven and earth are already made...

Jim and I jumped out of bed early this morning to catch these pictures before the rain came in. Hope you enjoy the photos taken 10-27-2005 in Columbus, Ohio.

Take Care on the Journey...
Linda