On the front porch at Frankie's

this is the only poem i wrote that was conceived in prison. it had been an awful day.  some dude in seg had been screaming all morning, on guy has ripped open stitches and had stuffed batteries into the open wound, and we had called 911 two more times for other trips to the hospital.  We were all feeling pretty frazzled.  after lunch, it was music time in the psych room.  Our clinical social worker (who was also a musician, last name was rockwell!) entered with his guitar.  the music was like cool water..i got up, stood in the doorway so I could hear the chords better.  and later that evening, sitting on the front porch at frankie's drinking a mint chocolate iced coffee, Mint Tenor was born. Thank you, Rockwell.

on the front porch at frankie's,

we sip iced coffee

and watch friday roll away

under the tread of cars passing,

hear the waft and fade of street voices

that call to an unseen someone, somewhere.

i am a tense tangle of days;

he is an oasis in the midst of chaos.

he strums me quiet,

graceful fingers along the

fretboard ease away the past week's

rush and roar cacophony

as he plays honeysuckle in dulcet chords

that float through traffic's whoosh

like yesterday's lost thoughts,

or the ghost scent of flowers

hidden in pine thickets.

his voice tastes like chocolate and

mint tenor that settles my mind

and spreads through my limbs

like balm,

or the cool drift of twilight

on summer eves,

and behind closed eyes

i feel only him,

hear only him

and the whispering marvel of how

he sings me peaceful.

Swiss Cheese for Brains

This may be difficult -- my typing skills have headed south and continue to worsen, but i'm thinking journaling might help me a little.  SO, I will exercise what's left of my brain in between the 23 lesions and look back over my career in prison, for a while.

Back in 1998, I was looking for a job, and was called by a former customer from the restaurant.  "We have a job opening in medical records, and we would really like it if you applied."  That was amazing to me, since these people knew little of my qualifications except that when we ran out of tartar sauce, I could create my own quick recipe and throw it together.  It must have been great sauce! I applied and was recommended for the job.

On the first day, my supervisor took me on a tour of the hospital floors where I would be filing in patient records. We climbed the stairs to G-2.  There was a short man standing in the hallway, and supervisor said, don't get too close to him.  He will push you down the stairway.  No problem!  on the way back to the office, i hugged the wall and stayed away from staff and inmates who could possibly have been hit in the head with a lock in a sock and suffered traumatic brain injury, something I understand a little better, these days.

From medical records at one facility, I transferred to a satellite unit in medium custody , which was also a mental health unit.  I was the ward clerk.  There, i met the most wonderful person, Psychologist Dr. H.  He and I bonded, and often I would go to his office to borrow a cup of calm.  my office was located upstairs where the segregation unit was, and all day long, there was something going on. you wouldn't believe the things someone will swallow to get a ride to the hospital -- razor blades, flip flops.  or worse, what they would suitcase (insert into their rectum), like a tattoo gun.

This job was probably the hardest one I've ever had, but also the most satisfying one, because it toughened me up and made me completely unafraid to take matters into my own hands and find solutions to big problems.

One young man was very ill and I had been trying for weeks to get him an appt.  we had a provider on the unit only 3 days a week, and the provider at the hospital, rightfully, could not and would not talk to the ward clerk.  I passed this info on, but nothing happened.  Then one day, nurse Anita called me and said..if you don't get an appointment for him, he's going to be D E A D dead.  my heart almost exploded. I hung up, called UR and said HELP ME!  if this guy doesn't get an appointment, he's going to be DEAD dead!  Told them the problem, they changed providers and he got his appointment.

I was seldom afraid and often disgusted.  One man on seg thought he was satan.  another man roaming the hallways thought he was Jesus and had his name changed to EZ Christ.  One day, i was in the nurses' station when he came to med pass.  The social worker said, Ms. B, have you met Jesus?  and so, i was properly introduced.  That's the only time I spoke to EZ.

Once, a guest of the state stepped in front of me and laughed.  I was returning from lunch and said.  what, i have mustard on my face?  and he replied - sometimes, you drink dr. pepper!  It's hard to miss the hilarity in that...

There were encounters that made my hair stand on end.  i was always picking up vibes, was behind someone on the stairway, and felt a dark cloud.  turns out he was decompensating. instincts on cue.  and there was the inmate who wanted to be my janitor and became angry when I told him, no, you aren't.  He was later demoted for doing something perverted in the ladies' restroom.  no need to say what.

eventually, a position opened up at my original facility.  I applied, went back, became a transcriptionist and transcribed for a korean, egyptian, afghanistani and an american.  More challenges, but i was bored.  one year later, i went back to medium custody and became the transfer coordinator.  will never forget my first swap.  we had to get rid of one at our unit, so i took another from a different facility.  Wrong!  the one i accepted had left a gang, and they had marked him as food for other gang members by tattooing him with burn marks.  the very evening he arrived, he was sent elsewhere.  well...i wasn't bored.

i recently had to leave that position due to health issues and will probably never go back. My original nickname there was Deborah's pit bull because i was notorious for running inmates away from the door or out of my office.  my final nickname was secret squirrel, because if I did let an inmate in and he had something to confide to management, i passed the message on to the top.

what an adventure.

It Was a Bear of a Day or...getting my life back.

Yesterday was Mother's Day.  We all loaded up and headed for Golden China Buffet because this mama didn't feel like cooking for a crowd, as much as I love them.  It was fun - we laughed until the other diners started looking at us like we were nuts.

It was so great to get out of the house, so wonderful to feel good for a change.  And then, on the way home, I saw something coming out of the woods. Even while I was yelling, watch out, watch out, watch out! I was trying to figure out what the heck WAS that.  It wasn't a dog; it was much too long for that, a little too big for that, but it was running on all fours, straight for our path.  Jim swerved all over the road trying to miss it. Thank God no cars were coming! and just before we hit it, or it hit us, I realized it was a bear.  I know our tires went right over it - had to - felt that awful thud.  I never looked in the rear view mirror, just couldn't.  We stopped at a nearby store, turned around and went back.  It was gone, so my hope is we didn't kill it.

It was an adolescent, maybe 100 pounds or so.  Mama had probably kicked him out of the den, and so he went looking for love in all the wrong places.  He didn't find it on Highway 211, that's for sure. Hope you're ok, big boy.  If we could have avoided you, we would have.

Shortly after, we made it home.  I sat in my chair and trembled for a while, and noticed the neighbor's kids walking through my yard - again.  One of them is around 15 years old, very tall and large.  I had asked them numerous times not to use my yard as a shortcut, not because I'm the mean old lady next door, but because I don't want a bunch of people I don't know in my yard at any given time.  After the 12th time - NO exaggeration - yesterday, I stepped out on my porch and waited for them to come back - which they did.  There were about six kids, including the big one, and I said, Hey, I've asked you kids so many times not to walk through the yard.  The big one was carrying a 2x4,  which did not escape my notice.  the big one said, I'm sorry for walking through your yard, BUT - and then he went off about another neighbor, a dog, a dog bite, drugs and "she disrespected my little cousins." I went to the little one to inspect his leg - no broken skin, thank goodness.  "She done called the law and gave them MY description," the big one went on.  "So ok, then!"  Like that justified his walking through with a 2x4.  I don't know what he was going to do with that, but he headed straight for the neighbor's home.  "don't go over there, you're going to make things worse." But he kept going.  So i pulled out the big guns and little bit of a white lie.  "I work in law enforcement."  He dropped that 2x4 like it was on fire. "and the best thing you can do is go home, call your parents, and let the law handle this."

A while later, two deputies walked through my apparently community property lawn sans 10-72's, so I assume Big Guy wasn't arrested this time. And the drug dealing neighbor lady is still alive, NOT having been killed by blunt force trauma with a piece of wood.

That kid is headed for big trouble and will probably BE big trouble if his parents don't step in and get him under control.  The worst thing is, they're leaving him in charge of four small kids and their older sister.  They've given too much responsibility to someone who doesn't have the maturity or impulse control to handle it.

Looking back over all of this, it was a miracle no other cars were on a busy highway while we swerved our impotent way all over the place to avoid a huge animal.  It was a miracle I decided to go outside to confront the big guy after letting it slide all day.  Maybe God has plans for me, yet.

Done!

Hopefully, this will be my last chemo post.  My last treatment was four weeks ago.  Since then, life has been pretty slow due to being exhausted and glued to the sofa, and then things went south.  Platelets were way down, I had petechiae and purpura, and then my red blood cells started dropping.  I had a blood transfusion on Wednesday, and have felt somewhat better.  I can breathe!  I can walk from one spot to another without chest pains or having to lean on whatever is available.  For that, I am truly grateful.  Hopefully, I can return to work June 1.  Sure could use the money.  Disability doesn't pay very much, but I would have been lost without it.

I started thinking back over this whole episode in my life.  I don't know what the future holds, or where I stand as far as cancer goes - no scans.  Go figure.  But I have learned a few things, and here they are:

What Chemo Taught Me

Hair

Losing you hair isn't' the end of the world. 
It's nice to ride with the windows rolled down without it blowing in your face.
It takes a lot less time to get ready for an outing without it.
Winters are a lot colder with no hair!
I cannot tie a scarf worth a flip.
Hats can hide a multitude of sins.
Eyelashes are a must, but you can do without them.
Eyebrows?  What eyebrows?
The face is so smooth without it!
It looks ugly growing back in, but it's fascinating to watch it grow and thicken.  I wasn't looking at myself in the mirror, I was marveling over that thick carpet making its resurrection after being killed with poison, and my body should be able to do the same.

Human Nature
No one can understand what cancer is like unless they have it, and no one can understand what chemo does to a person unless they experience it, but that's true of any life experience.
Conversely, some people are kind and are a lifeline when you feel like shit.
You find out who your real friends are (to include family) when you are recovering from treatments.  And just because they don't understand or are afraid/uncomfortable doesn't mean they don't care.  In some cases, it doesn't mean that they do, either. ;-)
Chemo and cancer made me want to be a better person -- not completely from the religious aspects of mortality, but to have a mission to help those who need a friend or a simple act of kindness in their day.  A little goes a long, long way.

Feeling Better
Sometimes you have to put yourself first.
The laundry will still be there.
A chair works for clothes just as well as the closet or the chest of drawers.
Vitamin B-12 is a miraculous substance.
A little makeup helps a lot!
Rest when you need, and let your body heal.
Dogs make the best nurses.
Doing for someone else who feels worse than you makes you feel useful.
Children make your heart smile.
Music soothes the soul.
Prayer and meditation are lifelines.
Hydrate, moisturize, take your meds!

Looking at Life
You can't fix everything for everybody, but you can be supportive.
People will hurt, but they are resilient.
Sometimes, it's better to keep your mouth shut and let situations work out for themselves.
Praying never hurt anybody.
Being a walking anachronism isn't a bad thing.
Judge Not.  It ain't your job.
I don't think you can love everybody, but you don't have to hate those you just can't love.
Forgiveness is necessary.
Bitterness is counterproductive.
Sometimes you just have to go outside and revel in nature.
Each moment matters.  Make it count.
I have been blessed with love, provided for when I didn't think there was a way, protected when I could have been hurt.  I can't say life has been unfair.

That's it for now. 

Finally

It's quiet this morning - everyone is keeping to themselves, and that's not a bad thing.  It gives us all time to focus on what we need to do and where we need to be in the future.  Also gives us some time to build energy.  Always a good thing.

Finally, finally, I completed chemo, yesterday.  It's a good feeling to know that now, I can really build some energy, get my platelets up, build some red blood cells and grow some magnesium. My fervent prayer is that the treatments did their thing and that my change in lifestyle will keep any future cancer at bay.  After all, I have been sliced, diced, nuked and poisoned!  Living through all of it just HAS to have a happy outcome.

If my next set of labs come back good, I can return to work in May.  If my energy surges, I can get the house as clean as it should be, and the yard will look spectacular!  I haven't been able to pay attention to the outside since last May, when all this came to light, and needless to say, it is a jungle out there.  I'm considering having a yard company come in for the worst of it.  I've never handled a chainsaw (that's right!  need chain sawing) in my life, and it is NOT on my bucket list.  Then, there will be debris to haul away.  Another thing I want to do is build a fire pit - the one of my dreams! - out of either brick or cinderblocks so that when I gather up the pine cones and cut down undergrowth, pick up limbs, etc...I can do a nice little burn at dusk, and sit there with a glass of tea and enjoy the fire.  Peaceful!

Looking forward to the future is so wonderful.  having a positive outlook is even better.  And having gratitude trumps both.  I thank you, God, for all you have done, and for the people you have sent into my life.  Please take care of each and every one of them.

One More To Go

I'm a little over 4 weeks since chemo, and will have 1 more on the 21st of March.  The last one! I am overhoyed and apprehensive, at the same time.  No scan, per the doctor, so how will they know treatment actually worked?  How will I know if the pain I feel is just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, age-related aches?  I don't have answers to either question, BUT!

I am determined to do everything in my power to make sure my body is as cancer proof as it can be. A week or two ago, I started paying attention to diet, more specifically, nutrition.  Lots of veggies, no red meat, organically fed chicken, omega 3 eggs, wild-caught salmon, and since sardines are (ick) the worst things I ever tasted, Kipper Snacks.  Added green tea (not much for now, don't want anything to interfere with chemo), ginger tea, all those things (or, most of them) that stock a cancer killing kitchen.  I can't tell you whether or not there is a slaughter in progress, but  good HEAVENS, there is such a change in my mood!  That can probably be attributed to the omega 3's, and if it's true, I will never again take another antidepressant. 

I woke up yesterday morning, and magically, had the desire to shower, dress, and put on some make-up.  To do some laundry, which did happen, but amazingly, not only did I wash clothes, I PUT THEM AWAY!! Regardless of how breathless I was, regardless that every step felt like slogging through cold molasses.  That was a big step for me.

There's a big possibility this could be because the last chemo was so long ago and the side effects have abated significantly, but the diet probably has a lot to do with it, also.  Resume work day is May 1, and I was wondering how in the world I could do it.  Maybe it will happen, maybe my energy will increase, maybe I can get my life back!  If I do, it will be better than it was before.

I want to give back more than before.  There are so many places and situations that need community involvement...going to see where I can best serve. 

For now, I need to get up and get things done.  It's a good St. Patty's day!

Just Looking Back

On the surface, my life has been little more than ordinary, most times boring beyond words.  Yet, there is so much more, below the surface.  I have truly been blessed.

I have seen a skulk of foxes running toward my car as I drove down Ashemont Road.  Have seen racoons playing on an embankment, have watched a deer hunker down and make her escape while a group of hunters with their backs turned plotted their hunting strategy.  I never said a word, just admired her and snickered a little at the hunters.  Have seen two deer swim in the pond where we were fishing, and have watched one eat crabapples at the fence.  I have escaped injury when the neighbors' horses broke through their fence and thundered through my yard, shaking the ground, running for all their worth.

I have had the love of many good dogs throughout my life -- two of them protected me from what they perceived as threats, and very well could have been.  

I have felt the sun warm my skin, and water cool the burn in the summer.  I have heard the sound of snow against snow, have marvelled at the renewal of life in the spring.  I have watched the sky, heard the birds singing as though they were rejoicing at the break of day.  I have watched the mist rise from mountain tops, and have been lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean as it found its way to shore.

I have confronted an undercover drug enforcement agent when he asked me where he could score some good stuff (a serious case of mistaken identity) and lectured him on the dangers of drugs, and how the people behind my place of employment were being strong-armed out of their social security checks.

I have fled with my mother to safety after finding her, bloodied, trapped in my drunk father's arms, have later poured his stash down the drain in front of him. At a later time, I had the good sense to scream for help when, stone cold sober, he tried to choke me.  He let me go.  And once, when I was fifteen, I stopped him from leaving the house with a loaded gun, bent on revenge, and was able to talk him down.

I have made mistakes, poor choices, but managed to work through them and come out a little worse for the wear, but a little wiser.

I have carried life twice, and may not have been the perfect parent, but I learned what it feels like to love a child and have been awed at how powerful and enduring that love can be.

I have walked down the halls with a concentrated population of rapists, murders, and other offenders and have been protected and safe.  I have read sex offenders their duty to report and have had them tell me unbelievable bits of information I never asked for and didn't want to know, and have wondered about why and what the purpose of hearing and seeing all of this has been.  I have entered an intensive control block and have been treated respectfully.  There IS a power in the universe that watches over all of us.  Of that, I am certain.

I have lost my brother, parents, and best friend in a short period of time and let the pain and grief take me under and stayed there until, one day, I found myself surface and carry on.  All of us...all of us...have more strength than we ever knew, and can survive that which we thought would surely kill us.

I have battled cancer, am still battling cancer, and am not sure which of us will win the fight, but I don't have time to be afraid, until the wee hours of the morning when all is quiet and there's too much time to think and regret all that I have not done or seen. I worry my life has been too dull, I haven't done enough for other people or myself  and every time I ask myself what I should do, the response is immediate - Fight!  And that's what I will do.

I'm just not finished being amazed by life, just yet.