Well, it's hit again and for good reason. I am bored with knitting, more specifically bored with knitting wool socks in the heat and humidity that is summer in Texas. I've ordered some patterns for cotton, hemp, and/0r linen to get me through.
In the meantime (which should be the title of my life story) I've started beading and creating jewelry. I reasoned that ordering a monthly beading kit might just be the kick in the butt I needed to get back to creating and I was right. Of course, the kits had to sit around and accumulate for several months, but once I started, there is no stopping! Granted, stringing beads is not that complicated, but it's the act of deciding which beads convey the message, how many strands of wire to use and what colors are best for the person that is the creative part. OK, I actually think it's the picking up and fondling of the many different kinds of beads that makes me feel better, but whatever it is, it's working!
I will post some pictures of the latest creations soon.
Crafting ADD?
Where in the World are the King and Queen of Typos?
It has been a quick and a long six months since my last post. The reality of death made it so apparent that we needed to be closer to family and spend what time we have remaining with our parents. The final shocking straw was that when we returned to NM, no one had sent flowers or a card, no one called with condolences, no one brought food or stopped by the house. We realized that we had spent a huge number of years in a state (10 for me, 20 for the King) where we hadn't developed any in-depth friendships.
So, we made a couple of seemingly scarey decisions. We were going to pack up and move back to the land of our birth and we took the King's pension money and paid off all credit card debt. I applied for a flurry of jobs, but one was specifically written for me. It was the Director of the Counseling and Advising Center for a College of Engineering at a major Texas college. I applied and promptly forgot with the other activities that were going on. The dean for this position called and conducted a phone interview in the middle of February that went very well. I felt good about the job, my potential boss and the scope of the job. The dean asked me to "drop by" during Spring Break when I was planning on being in Texas anyway. It all sounded very promising.
So promising that I made a leap of faith (or stupidity depending on your viewpoint). I wrote a letter of resignation for my current job, sealed it in an envelope and explained the situation to my current boss. He was quite understanding and agreed to open the letter only in the event that I called him and told him I had an offer.
I spent most of Spring Break with Mom, cleaning out closets and helping move furniture. The last weekend I spent in DFW and decided to apartment hunt. Found a wonderful townhome the first day. I explained our situation and told the manager that I would call her when I heard a formal job offer. She agreed to work with us and our special circumstances, so I signed the lease and wrote a check. I interviewed the following Monday. When the dean said "drop by for a visit," I didn't know it meant a 9 hour interview. Everything went really well and I felt good about it.
I got my first, yes, first speeding ticket in the panhandle of Texas. Can I just say that troopers out there apparently do not have enough to do. The trooper asked me where I was going so fast and I responded, "it appears I had a meeting scheduled with you." I was trying to find the humor in the situation, he thought I was being snarky. My foot has since become much lighter on the gas pedal.
Two days after I returned to Albuquerque, I got the job offer. And what an offer it was with a substantial raise and a move to exempt status. The next day they called to offer $2,000 more since I wouldn't be eligible for an annual raise in July due to my start date. I told them I could start on April 6, which was in less than two weeks!
The King packed my car shoulder high from front to back. There was only enough room for me and the Princess Trina of Typo. I moved to Texas with a blow-up bed, two lawn chairs, the X-box 360 and the barest minimum of household goods. The King would stay in NM, pack the house and drive to Texas at the end of April. He was able to move up his deadline and arrived in three weeks instead of four.
It is now the end of June and I think we finally are beginning to come out from under the shock and awe that is life. We're getting a new routine, we think we may be able to survive with only one paycheck and we are out of debt for the first time in our adult lives and we found out who our true friends are. This will be our annus horribilis, to borrow a phrase from Queen Elizabeth of England, and it can only improve from here.
When it rains, it pours...Or, The Family Royal Does NOT resemble Morton's Salt
The King of Typos was headed back home after the memorial service for my father. He had the royal princesses (OK, really just the dogs) and much furniture given to us by my mom. A little black ice and a big boom later, this is his pickup. Thankfully he was 10 minutes from my sister's house. The police officer was nice enough to take the King to Sara's house. The next day he visited a hospital about his bruises and contusions, got a rental truck and headed for home. A day later we all met up a day later in Amarillo and caravanned the rest of the way.
Right now home doesn't feel like home. We are broken and tired and stressed and freaked out and sad and anxious and whatever other unsettling feelings are appropriate. I can't seem to get off the sofa because a clean house and food don't really matter, do they? Folks, we are never here long enough to do or say all the things we need to do or say...spend the time to do AND say what you should while you can.
We were in Texas long enough to realize that we missed the sound of "thank yeeeew" when we left a shop and the big hugs and wide smiles of family we haven't seen in a while. Job seeking now involves Texas and whichever one of us can get a job first will get us back to our homeland. ;-) Keep your fingers crossed and address whatever deities you deem appropriate!
I still cry at least once, and often more, per day. I can't even begin to imagine the heartbreaking grief that my mother must bear. I pray for her constantly. The King of Typos has begun an agressive campaign to find a job, he's dealing with the creditors, arranging the payments, dealing with insurance and I try to go to work every day. I make it most days.
I took one of those "stress tests" online. You know the one that asks "how many of the following events have occured in your life in the last 6 (or 12) months?" Well, I scared myself when I saw how many of those life-changing events had happened to me in the last 4 months, but most within the last two weeks. Needless to say, I am to watch for serious stress-related illness. Bwahahahahahaha, um, 'scuse me while I recover and take the pill for depression, the pill for anxiety and the pills for high blood pressure and cholesterol. I think I've seen the enemy and he is me.
About the pickup: according to one adjustor, it's a total loss, however, we haven't received the official "offer" from either insurance company. We have received notification from both insurance companies saying they are only paying for their own policyholder's damages. Have no idea what this does for/against us, nothing else is in writing yet. The King is pursuing getting a copy of the police report since this will give us more info for better decisions.
That's the news from the Typo household. Hope you and yours are safe, warm, and loved.
New Firsts
In the midst of all this grief, we are struck again. The King of Typos was laid off last Friday. I have been unable to deal much with this since I'm so overwhelmed with Dad's death. He is looking for a job in Texas (or within a few hours of our parents). If you know of any mechanical design or graphic arts jobs....please let us know.
I also feel like we're all beginning with new firsts. This will be the first Sunday without dad, etc. Today was also my parents' 51st anniversary.
Thank you so much for the emails, the comments, the text messages and the hugs that have been sent my direction. I am awash in grace each time I read one of your messages or receive an email. Thank you again.
And yes, those are the first of many thank-you's that we owe.
My Father's Father
My father slipped from this life Tuesday morning at around 5:15 am. He breathed his last as my mom, my sister and I held him and told him good bye and kissed him. There is the emptiest, blackest, achiest place in my heart right now and I'm afraid the pain will never leave.
However, I know that Daddy's gone home to be with his parents from this life, the grandparents he never met and his heavenly Father. He will get to argue the finest points of theology with the best of those who have gone before him. And he will sing with the heavenly chorus.
My father had an amazing life, a 50 year ministry, and a wealth of friends and family who will miss him terribly. But we are all comforted knowing that he is at peace and where he should be.
The Family Royal
Currently, I'm in Texas at my parents' home.
The Father of the Queen has been released from the local hospital into hospice care. I will be here as long as Mom and Dad need me. Dad has fibrosis of the lungs, for which there is no cure and no treatment, except to comfort the patient. The hospice has been wonderful so far and it's nice to see their friendly, caring, comforting faces each and every day. Dad is taking two breathing treatments each day in addition to the meds that allow him to produce and get rid of the phlegm in his lungs. Apparently not being able to breathe is quite frightening (no, really) and it induces panic attacks and general freak-out mode several times per day. We have a list of things to try to help and so far, they all work.
My sister is here with us and we are gathering the powers of Good, but folks, the outlook is not positive. The doctors told Dad when he left the hospital that he has 2 weeks to three months. I don't think he's accepted this news and he is continues to plan for the future. We let him talk about these plans in the hope that the doctors are wrong. wWe will have longer than the doctors predict, but at this stage it's so sad seeing how hard it is for him to breathe that I don't want it to progress too much further.
Please keep us in your prayers.
Stress and the Queen
Last time I wrote, we were quite excited about both sets of parental units being at Castle Typo. My parents arrived late afternoon on the 23rd and the King’s parents arrived late that evening. I had meals planned, the schedule for food preparation was in my head, I had identified the remaining last-minute errands and made the final shopping lists. On Christmas Eve we all sat down to Rustic Tomato soup (homemade and a gem dandy if I do say so myself) for lunch.
My dad hadn’t been feeling well and after we gave thanks for the food/blessings/etc, but before anyone got to take a bite he asked my mom to take his pulse. She couldn’t find it so I tried; his pulse rate was about 158 and we then took his blood pressure, which was scary-high also. I told Dad to get his coat; we were headed for the ER.
Of course, I am the Queen of Typos, but I’m also the Queen of Falling Down, so those of you who know me know what’s coming next. I ran for Mom’s SUV and on my
way out of the garage, I tripped on air and went down hard on my knee. Then I heard Dad ask, “Where’d she go” and all I could do was laugh through the pain. I only banged myself up, but Mom had to back the SUV/Beast/GMC Yukon out of the driveway and then I could drive.At the local university hospital Mom and Dad went into the ER; I parked two counties away and met Mom later in the waiting room. They worked to ensure that Mom and I knew what was going on most of the time, there was a crazy hour or two in the waiting room, but compared to other hospitals, this wasn’t bad at all. Anyone who’s ever waiting in the Parkland ER (or any other large city/county hospital) waiting room knows what I’m talking about. However, they took Dad straight back and began work on him immediately. His blood/oxygen saturation level was under 60% and his blood pressure was still about stroke level.
The first picture is taken of Mom while we were in the waiting room of the emergency room. I had just called my sister and “the kids” (my niece & nephew, two dogs) to let them know that the holiday had what we hoped was a little burp and that hopefully we’d all go home shortly. I remember thinking that I had to document it if it was going to be a funny story later for the scrapbooks. So I took a picture of Mom checking her messages. Dad was later admitted to CCU, or Seven South, with what was initially diagnosed as congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, the beginning of emphysema, and type-II diabetes.
Dad smoked all of my life and I don’t know how long before that. He split it about 50% -50% between cigarettes and a pipe and then when he quit smoking, he began dipping snuff almost 20 year ago. He also pretty much ate what he wanted and drank what he wanted. I know that a lot of my life habits are based on the same mentality and that only I can change that. I am just so grateful I was able to walk away from smoking 13 months (and yes, I’m still counting) ago.
As an aside, I have to say I’m impressed with the hospital every step of the way. The nursing teams, housekeeping teams and everyone were respectful, caring and genuinely kind. It’s a shame the housekeeping staff had been trimmed so much for cost-cutting measures. I never got to meet the doctors, but their credentials look good.
On Christmas morning, Mom was at the hospital and I didn’t remember to take pictures of anything or anyone. The King and I went to the hospital later in the morning when we took
this picture of Dad and returned to fix dinner to serve around 3 pm. I’m learning more about the Queen and how she handles (or doesn’t handle) stress. I couldn’t remember how to make gravy, I forgot to take the rolls out of the freezer and allow them to rise, I forgot to put raw eggs in the dressing, and I left the neck in the turkey. I took the second picture of Dad on Christmas morning.Dad spent a week in the hospital, coming home on the 30th. He lost a tremendous amount of fluid weight during that time and was still on diuretics upon release. Mom and I were scared to let Dad do any driving, so I did the driving back to Texas. We took two days to make that trip, making frequent stops to pick up oxygen cylinders, potty stops and once to spend the night. We drove to my uncle’s house where we met with my sister and “the kids”. We all had lunch together and took the third photograph. My sister (the Princess of Typos?) drove me back to the airport and I flew back to the desert to kiss my husband at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Since then, Dad spent a week at home, learning more about a new diet and lifestyle and adjusting to life without tobacco. This past Thursday, he had an appointment with a cardiologist in his hometown but Mom had to cancel it and take Dad straight to the emergency room. This time, the local doctor first said pneumonia and then lung fibrosis. Either way his lungs are failing, his kidneys are failing and he is anemic and dehydrated. When the doctors try to adjust one thing, then his blood sugar goes out of whack. Doctors are unable to run a dye contrast CT on his lungs because his kidneys are too weak and the dye would cause his kidneys to completely shut down.
Today we got good news and his kidneys are doing much better. Hopefully that’s one system that will stabilize and then doctors can move to the others. Please send prayers, good wishes, blessings, spells, whatever your little heart desires to the continued improvement and return to good health for my father.
Here’s a not-so-funny story that is beginning to be funny but really wasn’t on Friday when it happened. Friday afternoon when I got ready to leave the office I couldn’t find my car keys. I keep two rings and separate them at work, leaving the car keys in my purse. Well, two people helped me look. We dumped my purse and went through it and my lunch bag item by item. We went through my jacket, including pockets AND lining. No keys. I finally conceded that maybe I had left them in the car and loaded myself up to go downstairs and check. As I stepped away from the curb in front of my building and looked at my car, I realized the headlights were still on. Hmmm…that meant that….hmm, how could that happen…unless…oh shit! I had not only left the keys in the car, I had left them in the ignition, which meant the door had not locked and the car running available for who ever wanted to take it (at that point I wouldn’t even call it stealing, I had essentially given the car away) for eight hours. Only about 20 miles later did it really begin to sink in. Yes, the Queen of Typos is learning about stress and that she really must deal with it, it won’t go away.
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