Reverse Stream of Consciousness
Thonck , thonck , thonck trickles into my consciousness as I barely hear it over the blaring Nickelback . Angry runner syndrome my trainer calls it when I’m running too hard, too fast pace and banging my feet to that god awful band (his opinion not mine) Then the damn flash cards slips out of my sweat soaked hand. Damn!! Fththwwpppp down the belt but before I could hit that emergency stop thwomp into the concrete wall glasses flying and iPod hanging me and yup everyone is staring. Yup I slipped and that card went into the belt of the tread mill and I ejected off the back before I could stop it at 6.2 mph into the concrete wall of the gym at 9pm or prime time. Yes they are all staring I’d like to say I have never endured this before but over the last 2 years I have passed out 3 times while running and thwomp into that wall making an ass of myself. I’m up in a flash I pod swinging retrieving those glasses and waiving off the would be do gooders. I quickly move directly toward the locker room with my trainer hot on my trail insisting its low blood sugar and I think I have dodged him heading directly into women’s locker but no he follows. I say,” Tony go away I’m good I was studying cards and I dropped it stopped up the belt end of story. “He’s raging at me now threatening to call someone to pick me up and demanding” why are you in angry runner state tonight.” “I’m always in Angry Runner State I bellow back at him.”
Hmmmm…..why am I angry runner tonight? Perhaps it’s the 8 hours I spent doing that damn excel work for the computer class. The endless beeping with no forward progress in the program as I inadvertently hit one less space or period. Or perhaps it the formula I need to enter over and over to no avail to make the damn thing work. So I work the math backward and fit it in their cells (aptly named) and progress ever so slowly and so it goes for 8 solid hours. They call them cells and this my IT Lab is my prison. Why they call it Excel I cannot fathom as I’m not going to excel in this subject for sure.
Perhaps it’s the xeroderma on my hands or maybe it’s the paronychia on my fingernail that is making me angry runner. Yeah a few days ago the medical terminology didn’t disrupt my normal dry skin and infected fingernails and now they are fancy pansy words for those bouncing around in my consciousness like a racket ball. They have a term for everything I’m anxious to learn the one for complete mental collapse. Is there a term for one angered by running?
Perhaps it is the endless pile of chef jackets washed bleached and ironed and promptly dropped in mud in front of my place. Yes that is going to make one very angry executive chef. Maybe it could be the coffee girl who is so sweet and cute but cannot recall a bit of information especially the fact I want 2 sugars in that coffee because it’s my once a day treat and I need that sugar. Please let her find her way to the toasting position and out of my head. I’m a walking talking commercial for anti anxiety medication.
Angry Runner is my salvation! She is the person I become when I run she can out run those med terminology cards, the waiting medical assisting study guide, the exodermises skin, the muddy chef jackets and even that layoff notice sitting in my backpack. She is exactly who I need. Her feet desperately try to outrun the stream of consciousness that is my day racing her to the finish line. Angry runner helps me out run my demons, turns down my mind one level of volume, and for a minute outruns this nightmare paced brain I have and this is my bliss. Angry runner is so different from the real me. She is tough, she endures and she moves on with courage. So every night often at 9pm Angry Runner Races for my sanity and for a brief moment we are one. Then the treadmill stops tonight not of its own accord and then I can face the demons of the day and night again. So after I convince Tony that I’m sane, not hypoglycemic, and super happy I’m allowed to leave my nirvana till tomorrow. Tomorrow no cards and no slips to ruin my utopia I hope!!! Race you to tomorrow and bet you I get there first or my mind may have beaten us both!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Outro for Cause Essay
I feel that I cannot reach my goal loveless, without empathy, or completely fearless. I will harness these 3 components and make them work to my advantage. When the fear monster creeps in I will lean on my lover for reassurance and face down that fear. I will talk or walk through that fear and examine its soul so I can choose not to remain frozen in my tracks. I will love or endure love in all forms and will however not put it before my needs to reach my goals. I will talk more and be upfront with my goals and the demands it will have on my time for me to be successful. I will love all those who seek my counsel on my own schedule. I will share with them my goals and what hinders my goal with straightforward talk to express that I can only help so much right now but can brainstorm options for them to take steps to seek others for help. I will be fearless in sharing myself and my love because I no longer want to only dream about reaching my goals.
I feel that I cannot reach my goal loveless, without empathy, or completely fearless. I will harness these 3 components and make them work to my advantage. When the fear monster creeps in I will lean on my lover for reassurance and face down that fear. I will talk or walk through that fear and examine its soul so I can choose not to remain frozen in my tracks. I will love or endure love in all forms and will however not put it before my needs to reach my goals. I will talk more and be upfront with my goals and the demands it will have on my time for me to be successful. I will love all those who seek my counsel on my own schedule. I will share with them my goals and what hinders my goal with straightforward talk to express that I can only help so much right now but can brainstorm options for them to take steps to seek others for help. I will be fearless in sharing myself and my love because I no longer want to only dream about reaching my goals.
Intro 2 for Cause Essay
What interrupts us in our journey to a goal? What makes those different that avoid distractions when they are pursuing a goal? Do they not have distractions? Do they have better coping skills or time management skills? For me the lover, the needy person, and the fear monster stop me in my tracks. They end my pursuit of the goal with a single twist of fate. Do I have horrible coping skills or bad time management? Can I unlearn empathy for a fellow human? Can I avoid the opposite sex until I reach the goal since love is really just an enigma? Will I ever truly harness that fear monster that stands at every corner I turn when racing toward my goals? Maybe fearless, loveless, and less human for me is the only way to complete my dreams and reach my goals.
What interrupts us in our journey to a goal? What makes those different that avoid distractions when they are pursuing a goal? Do they not have distractions? Do they have better coping skills or time management skills? For me the lover, the needy person, and the fear monster stop me in my tracks. They end my pursuit of the goal with a single twist of fate. Do I have horrible coping skills or bad time management? Can I unlearn empathy for a fellow human? Can I avoid the opposite sex until I reach the goal since love is really just an enigma? Will I ever truly harness that fear monster that stands at every corner I turn when racing toward my goals? Maybe fearless, loveless, and less human for me is the only way to complete my dreams and reach my goals.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Intro for Cause Essay (Take 1)
Six foot two inches tall, dark and twisty, English major and so completely mesmerizing that I avoid him like the plague. He kisses me right there in front of hundreds of people in the middle of York Commons and tasting like maple syrup and I hate maple yuck! 40 sets of eyes are staring me down the sweat is dripping from my brow as I shiver as that cold sweat drips down my back and in mid explanation of my description speech on Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation I pass out stone cold on the floor. Yes it was the live site for ITV version of Public Speaking so it is on tape for future generations to laugh at my failure. That girl on the bridge at 1am because she wants to kill herself, that geeky boy they pick on with no friends you sit with at lunch, that guy who smokes and plays guitar and needs to talk about his bad family, the girl who just needs you to type a short paper for her, your brother who is drugged out on acid dives through the plate glass window of your dorm room where you are the R.A. Empathy, love and helping people is one reason you are blocked from reaching your goals. Love or what masquerades as love interrupts your journey of reaching your goals and of course that big dark abyss of fear pulls you down in its clutches until you’re drowning and then you run. Maple syrup man, helpless line of needful people and your empathy for them, and fear these are what stop me from reaching my goals.
Six foot two inches tall, dark and twisty, English major and so completely mesmerizing that I avoid him like the plague. He kisses me right there in front of hundreds of people in the middle of York Commons and tasting like maple syrup and I hate maple yuck! 40 sets of eyes are staring me down the sweat is dripping from my brow as I shiver as that cold sweat drips down my back and in mid explanation of my description speech on Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation I pass out stone cold on the floor. Yes it was the live site for ITV version of Public Speaking so it is on tape for future generations to laugh at my failure. That girl on the bridge at 1am because she wants to kill herself, that geeky boy they pick on with no friends you sit with at lunch, that guy who smokes and plays guitar and needs to talk about his bad family, the girl who just needs you to type a short paper for her, your brother who is drugged out on acid dives through the plate glass window of your dorm room where you are the R.A. Empathy, love and helping people is one reason you are blocked from reaching your goals. Love or what masquerades as love interrupts your journey of reaching your goals and of course that big dark abyss of fear pulls you down in its clutches until you’re drowning and then you run. Maple syrup man, helpless line of needful people and your empathy for them, and fear these are what stop me from reaching my goals.
Graf #8
Graf #8
The Cause Essay’s were very different angles on the same format. The chicken ballerina is almost hiding the 3 reasons for the chicken suit dance and it works well. She easily transitions to the 3 anxieties that have brought the chicken to the dance. The Love Cause Essay is very straightforward in making the format work with 3 causes with a theme sentence under each cause and I of course like this one as I’m drawn to structure. I love to try to squeeze writing, thinking, and life into a perfect box because that is easy for me to make a neat tidy package and I’m going to try to avoid that trap. I like the stopping action format of the Red Sox Cause Essay it works really well and is well written. The idea of the stopped action of the game to explain the dynamic of what it means to the writer and back to the play action is brilliant work. These are three very different takes and will be helpful in guiding me or maybe even leading me astray.
I’m going to try to avoid going the way of the Love Cause Essay because that puts me in my comfortable box and I want to step outside that box. I want a hook but not just a typical planned hook. I want to hook without labeling the three causes and put the three causes in the intro in an embedded form like the chicken dancer. I’m not sure if the chicken ballerina will name the three causes and then strike out we will have to wait and see what transpires. Batter Up!!!
The Cause Essay’s were very different angles on the same format. The chicken ballerina is almost hiding the 3 reasons for the chicken suit dance and it works well. She easily transitions to the 3 anxieties that have brought the chicken to the dance. The Love Cause Essay is very straightforward in making the format work with 3 causes with a theme sentence under each cause and I of course like this one as I’m drawn to structure. I love to try to squeeze writing, thinking, and life into a perfect box because that is easy for me to make a neat tidy package and I’m going to try to avoid that trap. I like the stopping action format of the Red Sox Cause Essay it works really well and is well written. The idea of the stopped action of the game to explain the dynamic of what it means to the writer and back to the play action is brilliant work. These are three very different takes and will be helpful in guiding me or maybe even leading me astray.
I’m going to try to avoid going the way of the Love Cause Essay because that puts me in my comfortable box and I want to step outside that box. I want a hook but not just a typical planned hook. I want to hook without labeling the three causes and put the three causes in the intro in an embedded form like the chicken dancer. I’m not sure if the chicken ballerina will name the three causes and then strike out we will have to wait and see what transpires. Batter Up!!!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Graf #7
Todd is a name that means so many things to me but screams of complexity too. Maintenance man, chef, tool man, carpenter, wood worker, friend, lover, man who lost a child too, best friend are all ways to describe him too but none of them help me perfectly express the complexities of the journey that we endured together. None expresses the Hope we have lost and the Hope we hold for our futures’. Hope for us is a way to remember, reflect, and race forward simultaneously.
Yes Todd is my best friend and my fiercest defender and we have been many things to each other over the years but the one thing that has outlasted all the storms, heartaches, and sorrows is best friend and confidant. There is nothing I can’t tell him even if it’s the worst sin of my soul. There is nothing he hasn’t seen so I’m willing to bear it all including my soul. People say friends can’t be lovers and if your lovers you will no longer be friends. We have been both but the most important has endured and that is our friendship. We lost a child at 18 weeks her name was to be Hope. Under the direst of circumstances friends who became lovers survived tragedy moved on to separate lives but are connected forever in grief that defines where we have been as well as where we may go. I desperately wanted a child and after my husband exited stage left and with my life in shambles and after I digested the shock I longed even more for a child. I had 6 miscarriages over my 15 year marriage. My best friend stepped in to help me fulfill a dream and at the time maybe we made a bad decision or maybe a good decision but we made it and it changed our relationship and our lives irreplaceably. The loss of our daughter altered us again and I chose to want my friend back as I believed we were better friends than lovers. Over months of pain and indecision which was like a ring toss that you occasional rung a bottle but you missed a lot more often we moved forward and back simultaneously. We continued to cohabitate for support as we both tried to move forward and in different directions. Now our lives our separate but he is back to being my best friend and confidant. Each of us now has a relationship and both are equally serious and when I need to talk, cry, or scream he is there and when he gets commitment phobia and is running scared I kick him squarely in the seat of his pants.
Friends, lovers and life changes I believe to be intricately connected like the workings of messages in the brain as they jump synapses we know what happens but can’t exactly explain why the messages end up with different results in different people at different times. I think divorce, losing over 100lbs, losing my job, my child, and my life gave me the unique perspective to reevaluate my life. I believe it gave me courage to ask the tough questions and strength to articulate them as I regained my sense of self. That then gave me in rediscovering who I am the ability to make tough choices like the choice to keep my friend instead of my lover. Todd was not happy and struggled with the choice. He adapted as did I but we survived and ended up in a good place carefully watching over each other’s shoulders eager to see the road ahead. I believe for us we have come full circle. The best way for me to define friend is simply Todd. Friendship is founded in hopes and dreams and for us Hope is eternal. My friend and I hope to face our trials and tribulations together and someday hold Hope again in our arms.
Todd is a name that means so many things to me but screams of complexity too. Maintenance man, chef, tool man, carpenter, wood worker, friend, lover, man who lost a child too, best friend are all ways to describe him too but none of them help me perfectly express the complexities of the journey that we endured together. None expresses the Hope we have lost and the Hope we hold for our futures’. Hope for us is a way to remember, reflect, and race forward simultaneously.
Yes Todd is my best friend and my fiercest defender and we have been many things to each other over the years but the one thing that has outlasted all the storms, heartaches, and sorrows is best friend and confidant. There is nothing I can’t tell him even if it’s the worst sin of my soul. There is nothing he hasn’t seen so I’m willing to bear it all including my soul. People say friends can’t be lovers and if your lovers you will no longer be friends. We have been both but the most important has endured and that is our friendship. We lost a child at 18 weeks her name was to be Hope. Under the direst of circumstances friends who became lovers survived tragedy moved on to separate lives but are connected forever in grief that defines where we have been as well as where we may go. I desperately wanted a child and after my husband exited stage left and with my life in shambles and after I digested the shock I longed even more for a child. I had 6 miscarriages over my 15 year marriage. My best friend stepped in to help me fulfill a dream and at the time maybe we made a bad decision or maybe a good decision but we made it and it changed our relationship and our lives irreplaceably. The loss of our daughter altered us again and I chose to want my friend back as I believed we were better friends than lovers. Over months of pain and indecision which was like a ring toss that you occasional rung a bottle but you missed a lot more often we moved forward and back simultaneously. We continued to cohabitate for support as we both tried to move forward and in different directions. Now our lives our separate but he is back to being my best friend and confidant. Each of us now has a relationship and both are equally serious and when I need to talk, cry, or scream he is there and when he gets commitment phobia and is running scared I kick him squarely in the seat of his pants.
Friends, lovers and life changes I believe to be intricately connected like the workings of messages in the brain as they jump synapses we know what happens but can’t exactly explain why the messages end up with different results in different people at different times. I think divorce, losing over 100lbs, losing my job, my child, and my life gave me the unique perspective to reevaluate my life. I believe it gave me courage to ask the tough questions and strength to articulate them as I regained my sense of self. That then gave me in rediscovering who I am the ability to make tough choices like the choice to keep my friend instead of my lover. Todd was not happy and struggled with the choice. He adapted as did I but we survived and ended up in a good place carefully watching over each other’s shoulders eager to see the road ahead. I believe for us we have come full circle. The best way for me to define friend is simply Todd. Friendship is founded in hopes and dreams and for us Hope is eternal. My friend and I hope to face our trials and tribulations together and someday hold Hope again in our arms.
I search worksheet
What do you want to write about? Putting the U.S.A. back in made in the U.SA.
What do you want to find out about your topic?____I want to find out how we can get companies to make products and services in the United States and not make them overseas or outsource the work on our products.________________
What are your questions about the topic?
1. What can this country due to stop everything we purchase from being made anywhere other than in the United States?
2. If we tax imports can we force the factories to reopen...can we force innovation, invention, motivation and courage to help this country rebuild a workforce to make products and make them with better quality?
3. Is there a movement already at work to buy things made in US and if we did make things again and become profitable would it lessen our national debt in particular our indebtedness to China?
How does it connect to your life?
I’m completely disturbed by the fact that nothing is made in the U.SA. The quality of clothing brands to mention one product or service is going to hell. I work for a Maine company where all the clothing used to be made in the USA and lots of it in Maine. Now only a few items are made in America and the company used to sell and market under the fact it was made here. The quality is poor and I’m sure I’m going to hear we are part of a global world and a global economy blah blah. We are hemorrhaging money, brain power and jobs and I think we need to take a selfish moment to get this country empowered. The quickest way to put people to work is to produce things which will make jobs and rebuild this country and maybe help people reinvest in them. I want us to be a nation that helps others but the better we are and more financially sound the more we can help right?
Give three reasons you like the topic
1. I feel passionate about it to the point it borders on anger and or fear.
2. I feel that this is one of the reason we don’t have jobs no factories no industry to drive us and I want to see Made in the U.S.A on a label any label
3. There are millions of inventors and engineers with knowledge and ideas of new ways to invent and innovate and they sell their ideas and technology and don’t put them to work here. I want them to feel passionate to use their knowledge here in the United States to change our country and to make it better for all.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions
1. I’m already trying to not buy things not made in the United States to prove that it can be done sometimes and that it matters.
2. I believe that this country has enormous potential but has lost its ability to dream and stretch and realize to succeed sometimes you fail along the way. We have become lazy and perhaps other countries have cashed in while we sit on our haunches.
3 I want to feel like I made a stand and maybe one person can make a difference and I believe we can change the world one person at a time and that maybe we can help ourselves be better one person at a time.
What do you want to find out about your topic?____I want to find out how we can get companies to make products and services in the United States and not make them overseas or outsource the work on our products.________________
What are your questions about the topic?
1. What can this country due to stop everything we purchase from being made anywhere other than in the United States?
2. If we tax imports can we force the factories to reopen...can we force innovation, invention, motivation and courage to help this country rebuild a workforce to make products and make them with better quality?
3. Is there a movement already at work to buy things made in US and if we did make things again and become profitable would it lessen our national debt in particular our indebtedness to China?
How does it connect to your life?
I’m completely disturbed by the fact that nothing is made in the U.SA. The quality of clothing brands to mention one product or service is going to hell. I work for a Maine company where all the clothing used to be made in the USA and lots of it in Maine. Now only a few items are made in America and the company used to sell and market under the fact it was made here. The quality is poor and I’m sure I’m going to hear we are part of a global world and a global economy blah blah. We are hemorrhaging money, brain power and jobs and I think we need to take a selfish moment to get this country empowered. The quickest way to put people to work is to produce things which will make jobs and rebuild this country and maybe help people reinvest in them. I want us to be a nation that helps others but the better we are and more financially sound the more we can help right?
Give three reasons you like the topic
1. I feel passionate about it to the point it borders on anger and or fear.
2. I feel that this is one of the reason we don’t have jobs no factories no industry to drive us and I want to see Made in the U.S.A on a label any label
3. There are millions of inventors and engineers with knowledge and ideas of new ways to invent and innovate and they sell their ideas and technology and don’t put them to work here. I want them to feel passionate to use their knowledge here in the United States to change our country and to make it better for all.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions
1. I’m already trying to not buy things not made in the United States to prove that it can be done sometimes and that it matters.
2. I believe that this country has enormous potential but has lost its ability to dream and stretch and realize to succeed sometimes you fail along the way. We have become lazy and perhaps other countries have cashed in while we sit on our haunches.
3 I want to feel like I made a stand and maybe one person can make a difference and I believe we can change the world one person at a time and that maybe we can help ourselves be better one person at a time.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Graf #6
My reaction to the I Search Paper that I’m going to write can only be described as Paralyzing Fear. I’m so worried about this I may finally get my wish of straight hair. Seriously I’m that boring type of learner that would like nothing more to sit in a class and listen to a lecture take notes go home transcribe those notes and study them repeatedly. I would much rather be told I have to write a 50 page research paper on an assigned topic than have to decide on my own topic. I would say I’m losing sleep over this but I’m and insomniac since age 19. I’m definitely experiencing level 10 anxiety.
I, being a traditional learner liked how the papers have a strong format but because it doesn’t look traditional to me I’m looking for a topic that will fit the format more than I’m looking for something that I’m invested in as an interest. I know if I want it to show the real me, the voice behind it all, I’ve got to get past this mental block. It’s like I’m a cell trying to reproduce but yet not ripping apart and splitting which would then allow me to share my DNA.
I read and study all the papers thinking if I approach it logically I will be more successful. I like the structure that the complete papers have and I hear the authors’ strong voices. For me personally not many of the subjects were of a particular interest to me. I see why a lot of folks wrote about green houses and additions as it fits well in the format but these people were the voice and really wanted to build these things. I’m sad to say I don’t want to make a wedding cake,and I’m sorry to say Goldfine I don’t have an interest in picking out a dog and know almost nothing about them. Building anything, potty training anything, orthotics all out but well written and they all have a voice however I know none of these would match my voice.
I’m pondering and stirring a pot of racing thoughts and ideas. I try to pull the ideas that stay in my brain for more than 30 seconds in front of me in an imaginary pot and stew them and stir them hoping to find my voice. I have a myriad of interests, the top of which would be the human condition followed closely by medicine of any kind particularly as seen from a nursing aspect. I have a partner, boyfriend, lover or whatever label applies now of almost 2years. We melded together in the worst minutes of both of our lives because his wife and my husband both picked the same week to introduce us to their new lovers and new lives. This experience bonded friends of ten years in a new way as we faced a life crisis together. Months later our friendship became a relationship and we entered a new future together. I diverge but he has a son age 16. I have known and had a relationship with the child since age 6 and now I have a different role in his life that I don’t know how to traverse and it is one that scares me to the depths of my soul. Teenager in general frightens me because I constantly worry about his future. He is facing huge changes in his life coupled with huge changes in his family, home, and his sense of self. The stress is manifesting itself in plummeting grades, outbursts of rage followed by tears. Also some other strange and potentially destructive behaviors that are far from the norm for this child so this is definitely an interest. Alzheimer’s disease is a huge interest as I have been unfortunate enough to face it in my own family and it is the longest and saddest goodbye. Geriatrics and aging would be up there on the list as well as anything related to WWII and the greatest generation. So in my stew pot I’m mingling war, aging, teen aging, the human condition, medicine, Alzheimer‘s disease, nursing and quite possible the effect of stress on curly haired girls. I will continue to stew.
My stew pot is full and getting ready to boil over and my hair seems a little less twisty. My head is aching and I’m preparing myself for an uphill climb. I love the format and the idea you will really learn but I’m hoping a topic will magically appear in my pot that matches who I am and then I can began the real work.
My reaction to the I Search Paper that I’m going to write can only be described as Paralyzing Fear. I’m so worried about this I may finally get my wish of straight hair. Seriously I’m that boring type of learner that would like nothing more to sit in a class and listen to a lecture take notes go home transcribe those notes and study them repeatedly. I would much rather be told I have to write a 50 page research paper on an assigned topic than have to decide on my own topic. I would say I’m losing sleep over this but I’m and insomniac since age 19. I’m definitely experiencing level 10 anxiety.
I, being a traditional learner liked how the papers have a strong format but because it doesn’t look traditional to me I’m looking for a topic that will fit the format more than I’m looking for something that I’m invested in as an interest. I know if I want it to show the real me, the voice behind it all, I’ve got to get past this mental block. It’s like I’m a cell trying to reproduce but yet not ripping apart and splitting which would then allow me to share my DNA.
I read and study all the papers thinking if I approach it logically I will be more successful. I like the structure that the complete papers have and I hear the authors’ strong voices. For me personally not many of the subjects were of a particular interest to me. I see why a lot of folks wrote about green houses and additions as it fits well in the format but these people were the voice and really wanted to build these things. I’m sad to say I don’t want to make a wedding cake,and I’m sorry to say Goldfine I don’t have an interest in picking out a dog and know almost nothing about them. Building anything, potty training anything, orthotics all out but well written and they all have a voice however I know none of these would match my voice.
I’m pondering and stirring a pot of racing thoughts and ideas. I try to pull the ideas that stay in my brain for more than 30 seconds in front of me in an imaginary pot and stew them and stir them hoping to find my voice. I have a myriad of interests, the top of which would be the human condition followed closely by medicine of any kind particularly as seen from a nursing aspect. I have a partner, boyfriend, lover or whatever label applies now of almost 2years. We melded together in the worst minutes of both of our lives because his wife and my husband both picked the same week to introduce us to their new lovers and new lives. This experience bonded friends of ten years in a new way as we faced a life crisis together. Months later our friendship became a relationship and we entered a new future together. I diverge but he has a son age 16. I have known and had a relationship with the child since age 6 and now I have a different role in his life that I don’t know how to traverse and it is one that scares me to the depths of my soul. Teenager in general frightens me because I constantly worry about his future. He is facing huge changes in his life coupled with huge changes in his family, home, and his sense of self. The stress is manifesting itself in plummeting grades, outbursts of rage followed by tears. Also some other strange and potentially destructive behaviors that are far from the norm for this child so this is definitely an interest. Alzheimer’s disease is a huge interest as I have been unfortunate enough to face it in my own family and it is the longest and saddest goodbye. Geriatrics and aging would be up there on the list as well as anything related to WWII and the greatest generation. So in my stew pot I’m mingling war, aging, teen aging, the human condition, medicine, Alzheimer‘s disease, nursing and quite possible the effect of stress on curly haired girls. I will continue to stew.
My stew pot is full and getting ready to boil over and my hair seems a little less twisty. My head is aching and I’m preparing myself for an uphill climb. I love the format and the idea you will really learn but I’m hoping a topic will magically appear in my pot that matches who I am and then I can began the real work.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Graf #5
The photo to most people looks like a picture of 25 very elderly folks mugging for the camera at the top of the Bangor Water Tower on a breezy fall day. The view was spectacular bright sun that slightly warmed us even though the breeze was crisp and cool that day in the fall of 2007. The folks all octogenarians with the exception of one who was quick to point out she was only 78 and not yet an octogenarian. Most people look at this picture and they see what I described above but look further and see what I see.
The trip up the 100 steps for most young folks would not be much of a challenge but for these folks it was equal to a trek to the base camp on Everest. We planned to go for months and in addition to our normal sittercise class they all committed to more walking at the village every day 4 trips around the path of our building which was a mile. We often walked and talked together as they all tried to out complain the other with their ailments. To me those were the moments I treasure most because the average age was 87 and after the normal weather and aches and pain talk came the stories of their lives. To me the things these people had done ran the gamut from homemaker, WWII heroes, teachers, doctors, journalist, you name it one of them had done it in their lifetime. Many of my residents did the training for exercise but had no intention of making the climb but used the opportunity for increased social time and better overall cardiovascular health. The people who trained with no intention of the reward of the climb earn extra love and support from me for just sharing in our journey. We also trained in the summer at Mt Hope Cemetery. Walking there posed additional challenges as it brought a more somber mood to the trip as many had buried their husbands or wives there and many even children. However walking outside in that summer sun was good training for the fall climb we were planning. Of course after the identifying conversations of whom was buried where the talk once again would turn to their lives and I was always enthralled and because I have been their activity director for over 2years and previously was the private home health C.N.A. for many of them for over 4 years. We had formed great relationships before I took this job and they were comfortable to share with me and eager to answer my constant barrage of questions about the past and living through WWII. These folks are all members of the greatest generation.
I will get back on track to the planned trek. Yes me the somewhat crazy Activity Director that was planning to take at least 20 folks to the top of the Bangor Water Tower in the fall 2007 when the City of Bangor will hold their next public open house day. I took a lot of grief for hatching this plan so much that some even questioned my sanity. I heard there was no way a person in their late 80’s many who walked with canes could do this it was too dangerous and they were too old. The more resistance I faced the more the residents got behind me and we quickly eradicated the corporate concerns as we were an Independent gracious living community and I could plan any trip or activity as long as people wanted to participate. I held a meeting for the children of the residents whom most were in late 60’s to quell their concerns for the trip and many changed their minds as they saw their parents with renewed energy and drive training for this trip almost like it was the Olympics. I also explained I had lined up 8 chaperones which sound funny to think about chaperones for 80 year olds. I had conned two friends who were RN’s and one doctor friend to accompany us up the winding circle of 100 steps to monitor my folks.
The rest of July, August, and Early September flew by and of course the day arrived for the climb and I of course was nervous. I was standing by the bus talking to myself had I gone too far was it too much for them. These people were my family and I loved them all and certainly didn’t want to risk their lives or health. I was obsessing as we waited to board our bus then one the residents said “Cindy stop worrying we are ready. Please do not stop believing in us now. None of us would be doing this if we didn’t want to but most of all you gave us the courage to believe we could still do extraordinary and meaningful things and that my dear is more valuable than anything. If not one of us reaches the top you reminded us of our passion for life.” I hugged her with tears in my eyes and we boarded the bus and I was on a high that no drug could ever give me. You see what they never understood was I got far more out of this job than them. The things I did and planned for them they loved and told me how lucky they were to have all this fun but I got far more out of our relationships just by knowing them and sharing their lives.
I am proud to report all made it to the top of that tower and some had lived in Bangor their whole lives and never ventured to the top. The climb was long over an hour for some. I spent my time running back and forth the stairs checking and coaching people along the way. One of the unique aspects of the climb was that the water tower was open to public so we encountered many people along those hundred steps who were shocked to see little gray haired ladies and gentlemen with canes climbing those steps clinging to railing for dear life and resting at each landing with a bench. Many inquired if we were nuts which many of the residents replied yes we are all nuts but the head nut is the one running up and down the stairs. Many of those people took the time to help, smile and laugh with us. The courage of these folks was amazing and their determination unyielding. A few almost gave up but the others encouraged them and they all persevered. One of the best moments for me was as one would arrive at the precipice they would stand their catching their breath yelling words of encouragement down to the others for me that was the defining moment that made it all worth it but the residents would tell you it was all standing together looking out over for almost an hour laughing talking and taking pictures. There was a Bangor Daily News reporter on the trek to the top that day that was going to take pictures of the foliage. Once he encountered us and our story he quickly started jotting notes and names. We made the newspaper the next day a few shots of the residents at the top with a small blurb about octogenarians climbing to the top of the water tower. The residents who couldn’t go because of conditions of health were thrilled the next day to share in the adventure and they were all buzzing about the little blurb in the paper. One hundred fifty residents lived in the facility at that time and the 25 people who made it to the top were overnight celebrities for weeks to come in the village.
I still have that article neatly folded in a book. When I look at that photo from the paper or the many I took on that day or the one that someone took for me so I could be in the group photo I do not see a bunch of old people mugging for the camera. I see Olympic Champions. I see people who taught me more than I could ever teach them. I see love. I see the determination to overcome boundaries no matter how big the mountain. I see renewed passion for life whom many had lost and regained that day. I see 25 people at that moment who taught me anything is possible. I see 25 people living every moment to the fullest. I see personal triumph and renewed discovery of purpose in life. I see a retired Navy RN, the only non octogenarian at age 78, who had me telephone the paper to have them print a retraction because she wasn’t eighty. I see a WWII vet who parachuted into Normandy and got caught on a steeple and was helped by members of the French resistance. I see a wife and homemaker raised on a farm in outer Essex Street. I see a 1st grade teacher that taught 40 years all over this country. I see a woman who worked in Washington during the war in a typing pool typing letters of condolences to families of fallen soldiers. I see a Navy wife completely dedicated to her family. I see a beautician. I see a writer who had travelled the globe. I see an artist who later would capture this moment completely from his memory of this day. There are many more too many to mention but all equally important. When I look at the photo and tears drip down my cheeks because many in the photo have since passed on from this life. I see all of them and all of their hopes, dreams, and all the things they contributed to this world and I hold it close to my heart and take it with me each day that I climb my mountains.I hope to climb what the world considers a big mountain someday soon and I know many people leave things to say they were there at the summit for me that will be a copy of this photo because in my opinion these people have already made their climb to the top.
The photo to most people looks like a picture of 25 very elderly folks mugging for the camera at the top of the Bangor Water Tower on a breezy fall day. The view was spectacular bright sun that slightly warmed us even though the breeze was crisp and cool that day in the fall of 2007. The folks all octogenarians with the exception of one who was quick to point out she was only 78 and not yet an octogenarian. Most people look at this picture and they see what I described above but look further and see what I see.
The trip up the 100 steps for most young folks would not be much of a challenge but for these folks it was equal to a trek to the base camp on Everest. We planned to go for months and in addition to our normal sittercise class they all committed to more walking at the village every day 4 trips around the path of our building which was a mile. We often walked and talked together as they all tried to out complain the other with their ailments. To me those were the moments I treasure most because the average age was 87 and after the normal weather and aches and pain talk came the stories of their lives. To me the things these people had done ran the gamut from homemaker, WWII heroes, teachers, doctors, journalist, you name it one of them had done it in their lifetime. Many of my residents did the training for exercise but had no intention of making the climb but used the opportunity for increased social time and better overall cardiovascular health. The people who trained with no intention of the reward of the climb earn extra love and support from me for just sharing in our journey. We also trained in the summer at Mt Hope Cemetery. Walking there posed additional challenges as it brought a more somber mood to the trip as many had buried their husbands or wives there and many even children. However walking outside in that summer sun was good training for the fall climb we were planning. Of course after the identifying conversations of whom was buried where the talk once again would turn to their lives and I was always enthralled and because I have been their activity director for over 2years and previously was the private home health C.N.A. for many of them for over 4 years. We had formed great relationships before I took this job and they were comfortable to share with me and eager to answer my constant barrage of questions about the past and living through WWII. These folks are all members of the greatest generation.
I will get back on track to the planned trek. Yes me the somewhat crazy Activity Director that was planning to take at least 20 folks to the top of the Bangor Water Tower in the fall 2007 when the City of Bangor will hold their next public open house day. I took a lot of grief for hatching this plan so much that some even questioned my sanity. I heard there was no way a person in their late 80’s many who walked with canes could do this it was too dangerous and they were too old. The more resistance I faced the more the residents got behind me and we quickly eradicated the corporate concerns as we were an Independent gracious living community and I could plan any trip or activity as long as people wanted to participate. I held a meeting for the children of the residents whom most were in late 60’s to quell their concerns for the trip and many changed their minds as they saw their parents with renewed energy and drive training for this trip almost like it was the Olympics. I also explained I had lined up 8 chaperones which sound funny to think about chaperones for 80 year olds. I had conned two friends who were RN’s and one doctor friend to accompany us up the winding circle of 100 steps to monitor my folks.
The rest of July, August, and Early September flew by and of course the day arrived for the climb and I of course was nervous. I was standing by the bus talking to myself had I gone too far was it too much for them. These people were my family and I loved them all and certainly didn’t want to risk their lives or health. I was obsessing as we waited to board our bus then one the residents said “Cindy stop worrying we are ready. Please do not stop believing in us now. None of us would be doing this if we didn’t want to but most of all you gave us the courage to believe we could still do extraordinary and meaningful things and that my dear is more valuable than anything. If not one of us reaches the top you reminded us of our passion for life.” I hugged her with tears in my eyes and we boarded the bus and I was on a high that no drug could ever give me. You see what they never understood was I got far more out of this job than them. The things I did and planned for them they loved and told me how lucky they were to have all this fun but I got far more out of our relationships just by knowing them and sharing their lives.
I am proud to report all made it to the top of that tower and some had lived in Bangor their whole lives and never ventured to the top. The climb was long over an hour for some. I spent my time running back and forth the stairs checking and coaching people along the way. One of the unique aspects of the climb was that the water tower was open to public so we encountered many people along those hundred steps who were shocked to see little gray haired ladies and gentlemen with canes climbing those steps clinging to railing for dear life and resting at each landing with a bench. Many inquired if we were nuts which many of the residents replied yes we are all nuts but the head nut is the one running up and down the stairs. Many of those people took the time to help, smile and laugh with us. The courage of these folks was amazing and their determination unyielding. A few almost gave up but the others encouraged them and they all persevered. One of the best moments for me was as one would arrive at the precipice they would stand their catching their breath yelling words of encouragement down to the others for me that was the defining moment that made it all worth it but the residents would tell you it was all standing together looking out over for almost an hour laughing talking and taking pictures. There was a Bangor Daily News reporter on the trek to the top that day that was going to take pictures of the foliage. Once he encountered us and our story he quickly started jotting notes and names. We made the newspaper the next day a few shots of the residents at the top with a small blurb about octogenarians climbing to the top of the water tower. The residents who couldn’t go because of conditions of health were thrilled the next day to share in the adventure and they were all buzzing about the little blurb in the paper. One hundred fifty residents lived in the facility at that time and the 25 people who made it to the top were overnight celebrities for weeks to come in the village.
I still have that article neatly folded in a book. When I look at that photo from the paper or the many I took on that day or the one that someone took for me so I could be in the group photo I do not see a bunch of old people mugging for the camera. I see Olympic Champions. I see people who taught me more than I could ever teach them. I see love. I see the determination to overcome boundaries no matter how big the mountain. I see renewed passion for life whom many had lost and regained that day. I see 25 people at that moment who taught me anything is possible. I see 25 people living every moment to the fullest. I see personal triumph and renewed discovery of purpose in life. I see a retired Navy RN, the only non octogenarian at age 78, who had me telephone the paper to have them print a retraction because she wasn’t eighty. I see a WWII vet who parachuted into Normandy and got caught on a steeple and was helped by members of the French resistance. I see a wife and homemaker raised on a farm in outer Essex Street. I see a 1st grade teacher that taught 40 years all over this country. I see a woman who worked in Washington during the war in a typing pool typing letters of condolences to families of fallen soldiers. I see a Navy wife completely dedicated to her family. I see a beautician. I see a writer who had travelled the globe. I see an artist who later would capture this moment completely from his memory of this day. There are many more too many to mention but all equally important. When I look at the photo and tears drip down my cheeks because many in the photo have since passed on from this life. I see all of them and all of their hopes, dreams, and all the things they contributed to this world and I hold it close to my heart and take it with me each day that I climb my mountains.I hope to climb what the world considers a big mountain someday soon and I know many people leave things to say they were there at the summit for me that will be a copy of this photo because in my opinion these people have already made their climb to the top.
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