Where is Sanity?

I wonder if our country has gone mad.  Another tragic shooting, murder actually—12 lives lost—and what are our leaders doing about it?  I give credit to Mayor Michael Bloomberg of New York City for speaking out in support of gun control and blasting Obama and Romney for not addressing the issue.  It is past time for us to deal with the rising gun violence in this country.  How many more people have to die?  My heart breaks for the families of the young victims in Aurora, Colorado.  Where is our outrage?

Today I found statistics on Facebook about gun violence.  I cannot attest to its accuracy but I have seen similar statistics elsewhere.  In 1 year guns murdered 17 in Finland, 35 in Australia, 38 in England and Wales, 60 in Spain, 194 in Germany, 200 in Canada, and 9,484 in the United States.  Yes, over 9,000!  Clearly, even once we adjust for population numbers, the U.S. has a huge problem with guns compared to the rest of the world.  This loss of life is simply unacceptable.

We must work together on gun control.  Now, I’m not advocating taking away all guns.  My husband and I choose not to have guns in our home, but I am not opposed to others doing so.  My father grew up in a rural area in a family of hunters and he keeps a gun.  The family guns were kept locked up and handled responsibly.

I am tired of hearing about Second Amendment rights.  This amendment refers to militias and was written at a time when men carried muskets.  How long does it take to load a musket?  The writers of this amendment could not even fathom our situation today with automatic and semi-automatic guns.  These weapons are designed to do one thing and one thing only—to kill many people very quickly.  Law-abiding citizens do not need these weapons and I will argue that they do not have the right to own these weapons.

I am appalled at the people who state that it’s too bad that nobody else was armed in that Aurora movie theatre.  Seriously?  The guy was heavily armed, and was wearing body armor and a gas mask.  Tear gas blurred people’s vision.  If others had started shooting, the odds would be that there would have been more dead people, not less.

There is nothing more dangerous than a bunch of overconfident, macho guys strutting around with guns, thinking they can handle anything.  Recently, I saw a photo of a sign on a business establishment welcoming carriers of concealed weapons.  Are you kidding?  If I saw that I would turn around and walk back out—I just wouldn’t feel safe.  Who wants to share a room with a bunch of gun-toting guys who think they’re living in the wild west or perhaps in a movie or video game, especially when they’re drinking?

Where can we go and feel safe these days?  I saw a comment that said, “great, now we can’t go to movie theatres anymore.”  Exactly.  The NRA, its followers, and the politicians in their pockets have us living in a climate of fear.  And I don’t want to hear “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.”  No, it is the guns—a crazy person couldn’t do such damage with a knife.  Why do we allow the NRA to rule?  I have often wondered if this group is run by organized crime.  It seems to be the only explanation for some of their stances.

We must enact serious gun control in this country, especially regarding automatic and semi-automatic weapons.  We need to elect representatives who will represent us, not the NRA, and pass reasonable gun control legislation.  These murders will continue to happen until we do something about it.  We cannot wait any longer.  Life is too precious.

A Hot Summer Day

Cool night air

I sit on my deck

Relief after the heat

Hot air late afternoon

Keeps us inside

AC going full blast

Furry, panting dog

Lies over the vent

Blocking our air

Finding her relief

Dinner time comes

Too hot to eat

Frozen yogurt sounds good

But barbeque is best

Along with iced tea

Heat rolls off the patio

We eat inside tonight

And long for cooler days

When we can enjoy the outdoors

Without dripping and dragging

And risking heat stroke

We’ll check the forecast

Then look towards tomorrow

And I sit on my deck

In the cool night air

Sunday Afternoon

My view from the deck

On a Sunday afternoon—

A green canopy

A small hummingbird

Flits from tree to tree above

Gathering nectar

Bird songs fill the air

Louder than distant traffic

Trills and chirps abound

A book on my lap

Reading is sweet luxury

Today I indulge

Husband rakes the lawn

Of the windstorm’s destruction

I watch from my chair

Subdue a strong urge

To rise and be productive

Just sit and let be

One Day at a Time

Recuperation from surgery

Certainly takes patience

Two days post-surgery

Pushed myself to an interview

Found a not-too-tight dress

Bare feet in brown pumps

Husband as chauffeur

Walked in, shook hands, smiled

No pain meds that day

So I think I was coherent

Plus a few points for effort?

Perhaps a second interview?

Went home, laid down

With adrenalin still pumping

Attended Bible study

Impressing all with my toughness

But not so tough the next day

So tired, so tired, sleep

Read a little then slept

This following day the same

So tired, so tired, sleep

Can’t seem to do much else

Two job rejections via e-mail

Waiting to hear—second interview?

No energy for the job hunt

Just waiting and resting

Patience is running thin

One day at a time. . .

My Outpatient Surgery Experience

My alarm went off early—6:00 am.—but I was already awake.  My anxiety surrounding my surgery plus the symptoms of a worn out gallbladder made for a night of little sleep.  I was ready to go in a short time.  Surgery is not something you dress up for—loose clothes and no breakfast. 

My husband drove me to the hospital and we walked into the main entrance at 7:15 a.m.  We were directed upstairs to the surgical waiting room.  Soon I was registered and led to my little room where I was issued one of those lovely hospital gowns with rear ventilation.

I met my nurse, Gail, and once again I was asked my name, DOB, and what I was there for.  (I’m glad that they want to be sure they have the right person!)  She asked me about my medications and when I last took them.  We discussed my medical history.  I learned that we are the same age and both originally from California.  Gail was very talkative and friendly which went a long way in calming my nerves.  (My husband had left by this time to go to his dental appointment; he was getting his permanent crown.)  Next she put in my IV and apologized because my vein was a bit elusive.  However, I can’t even find the needle mark today.  She also put compression socks on my feet and legs to prevent blood clots.

Other medical personnel came in to see me—all very friendly.  My surgeon walked in and assured me that I’d feel much better without my gallbladder.  His assistant came in later and introduced herself.  After a while I met my anesthesiologist.  She explained what I would experience, including the fact that they’d be inserting a tube down my throat.  I wouldn’t be awake for this but I might experience some scratchiness later.  (Yes, I did, so it was good to know.)  During this procession of medical people, Maggie, our church’s Minister of Congregational Care, came in.  We chatted throughout the medical stuff which was a great distraction.  Just before she left she prayed with me, a comfort.  Shortly after Maggie left my husband returned.  Soon the anesthesiologist assistant showed up and asked if I wanted something to relax me.  Yes!  He told my husband that this was the time for hugs and kisses, which I got.  The assistant injected something into my IV and I don’t remember anything after that.  My husband said that he followed me as they wheeled me out.  I seemed to be awake, even talking.  I wonder what I said?

The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room.  Through my fog I saw other people in beds, medical professionals scurrying about, and lots of equipment.  A nurse offered me ice chips which I gladly accepted.  I heard someone mention my name, saying I was ready to be moved.  A nurse came over and pulled off the sticky patches that hold the EKG leads.  Soon I was being wheeled back to my room. 

Once I returned to my room my nurse, Gail, offered me water, and then some crackers and jello.  I was lucky—I had no nausea so I was glad to put something into my stomach.  I was offered pain pills and I chose to take one.  My husband joined me in the room.  A little while later the anesthesiologist came to check on me and I told her I thought I needed that second pain pill.  Yes, she said she could see a furrow in my brow.  Soon the nurse returned with my pill.

While I relaxed in my adjustable hospital bed, my husband and I chatted.  The pills kicked in and I began to feel drowsy.  My nurse returned and said I could go home if I wanted.  Yes!  I was disconnected from my IV, the ice pack was removed, and I was given a little help getting back into my clothes.  Soon a wheelchair appeared and I was wheeled by a young volunteer to the front entrance where Bob met me with our air-conditioned car.

We arrived home about 2 p.m., ate some lunch, and then I headed to bed for a while.  My husband left to pick up my pain prescription plus salads for dinner and CHOCOLATE.  By late afternoon I had moved to the recliner in the living room—much more comfortable.  I tried to read a little and watched some TV while periodically using an ice pack.  It was a good day to be inside—our evening news stated that our high was 108°.  My husband answered a few phone calls; I talked to my pastor who was checking up on me.  Salads for dinner.  I took only one pain pill in the afternoon but was ready for two by evening.  I didn’t sleep well.  I used an extra pillow but it was hard to get comfortable and I got up about 4:45 a.m. to take a couple pain pills.

I am moving around better today but I can’t lean over—mostly I have been sitting in a reclining position.  I have not taken any pain pills, but I think I will after lunch and before a nap in the recliner.

I would not wish this on anybody, but I am doing better than I expected.  In fact, I do think I’ll be able to make it to my job interview tomorrow afternoon without pain meds—my husband will drive me.  I must say it helps to have a loving husband to wait on me.  And I should add that Boise is a wonderful place to live.  The medical staff at the hospital was professional, friendly, and caring which made my experience so much better—I have lived in places where this isn’t so.  My church family has been so supportive, both before and after with in-person expressions of concern, calls, cards, and Facebook messages.  There were so many caring comments on my Facebook page—it made me feel loved.  When I got home there was a gift bag hanging from our door from a friend.  Today flowers arrived from my parents and my sister and her family.  And, of course, my daughters have called multiple times.  All this support really helps.

The surgeon indicated that it will take at least 2 weeks for me to totally recover.  My post-op appointment is next week at which time they will remove the dressings from my four little holes made during the laparoscopic surgery.  I’ll be careful, adding things as I am able to do them.  I am taking it one day at a time. . .

Awaiting Surgery

Doctors are done with tests and consulting

Surgery’s been scheduled for over a week

The big day is upon me—tomorrow

The day I say goodbye to my gallbladder

Good riddance I say, can’t wait

I’ve been tired and uncomfortable for weeks

In preparation I’ve run errands, done chores

Worked in my yard in the heat of the day

(Who knows when I can do this again?)

Bought books for entertainment

Tried to catch up on volunteer things

Did laundry and dusted my room

Wondering how I’ll handle it all

Forty-seven years since my last major surgery

My body has changed a bit since then

Hoping I can bounce back quickly

Need to bounce back quickly

With an interview two days post-surgery

Need to head to bed soon

But will I be able to sleep?

There’s a knot in my stomach

But is it my gallbladder or fear?

When I admit that I’m anxious

I remember all the friends who are praying

Praying and thinking of me at that time

What a huge comfort that is 

If I can manage to remember

Celebrating Independence Day

A few days early

Firecrackers explode nearby

Dogs next to my feet

Sirens can be heard

Wild fires erupt in dry grass

Set off by fireworks

Independence Day

Known as the Fourth of July

What’s it really mean?

Freedom from King George

Life, Liberty, Happiness

A brand new country

Our democracy

A shining beacon to all

And hope for the world

In two thousand twelve

Is the American dream

And hope still alive?

Congress is broken

Political extremists

Will not compromise

Civility gone

Politics trump the people

Greed and deep pockets

Corporate money

With Citizens United

Who runs the country?

Vital programs cut

To save one percent from tax

And the people lose

People in the park

Gather together in joy

Fourth of July fun

Fireworks burst in sky

Eliciting oohs and ahs

Beautiful to see

Do we see the truth?

The threat to our democracy?

Where’s the people’s will?

We need vigilance

To preserve our democracy

Our United States

Just Sitting

I find it hard to just sit and do nothing.  It seems to go against my Puritan work ethic.  When I sit on my deck, I see all of the weeds that should be pulled.  However, today is a holiday so I can justify just sitting.  (But obviously I am writing.)

I am sitting in the shade with my feet up at the edge of our deck.  It is sunny, about 80° F and a gentle breeze washes over me and rustles the leaves in the trees above me.  Mercifully, there are no power tools running in my neighborhood right now.  But the birds—there are so many birds.  The tules that that grow in the stream in front of me harbor a myriad of Red-wing Blackbirds, including young ones chirping in nests.  Red-shafted Flickers rest in the branches of a nearby maple tree.  A nest of young Starlings is hidden in a hole in our half-rotten cottonwood tree to my right.  Perhaps resting in the middle of the day, and currently unseen and not heard, are other residents such as ducks and geese.

I can hear some traffic noise in the distance and an occasional airplane overhead, but otherwise, bird songs dominate.  Peaceful.  Just sitting here.  Listening. . .