An Angel in Disguise

Thomas moved into our home at age seventeen. I was so happy to have him there, he seemed damaged but content to live with us. I was very naïve to his head injury symptoms and personality changes and I was right down stupid about recognizing that a teen his age would have the ability to find out about substances to take to feel better and help his headaches. By the time I started to figure out these patterns, a year had slipped by.

I recall one beautiful Spring morning in May, the sun was absolutely gorgeous, the air was clean and crisp and the new flowers in the gardens were stunning.  We had recently bought Thomas a car, which would turn out to be one the biggest mistakes we made. Thomas gave me a kiss good-bye on my cheek and as he went through the door he exclaimed, “I am so happy! the perfect car, the perfect job, this is like a dream.” As I watched him get into his car and drive off, a sense of accomplishment came over me. We had supported him in getting this new job, we had bought him the car and some new clothes. Everything seemed perfect. Shortly after that wonderful feeling of accomplishment, a feeling of deep sadness and worry set in and I could not shake it. I wondered why I was worrying so much, he seemed so happy and excited, and my husband and I were doing much better with him than his parents.

My first mistake was thinking everything was perfect. The second was buying him a car. The third was helping him get into a job that was too stressful and demanding for him at his age, head injuries and emotional immaturity. The fourth mistake was thinking we could do better than his parents.

I recall asking Thomas how work was going; was he keeping up on his emails, mail and deadlines? He always answered positive but I could see concern in his eyes. Finally, weeks into his job I asked him if he needed help, did he want to quit or could we assist him? He broke down and said he did not know what he was doing on the job, the emails had piled up so much that he did not know how to get caught up on them. As he headed off to work that morning, my gut felt something was definitely wrong.

It was really late and I called Thomas and asked where he was. He was still at work and said they had had a work party and he was trying to catch up. I fell asleep and around 1:00 am, I received a phone call I never expected to get, nor do I ever want to receive again. An officer stated his name and said Thomas had been picked up for drunk driving and if I came down to where he was, they would release him to me.

I hurried to the street address given me, as I arrived an officer got out of his car to speak with me. I could see Thomas in another police car with an officer talking to him. The one officer approached me, asked my name and relationship to Thomas. I provided the information and he proceeded to tell me Thomas was going 65 mph in a 30 mph zone. The officer stated he had watched him pull up to a light and not completely stop, then picked up speed quickly and was swerving. He told me how lucky he was that they stopped him before he went through a red light, hit and/or killed someone. I felt absolutely sick and numb, how could this be our Thomas? There had been one instance when he came home late, I thought I could smell alcohol on his breath and when I confronted him about drinking he gave a very good excuse and I believed him. Or I wanted to believe him. Thinking back now, I had a feeling he was drinking and I was not firm enough, I guess I was afraid to upset him. The all time BIG mistake adults make.

One of the officers wanted to book him into jail that night, the other officer was kind and willing to let me take him home. I recall sitting in my car watching Thomas get out of the police car and come over to my window to speak with me. I could tell he had taken in a significant amount of alcohol. He thanked me for not yelling at him. He went back over to the officer to get his paperwork and I watched the officer give him a big hug. It took me by surprise; I was impressed, teary, grateful and angry all at the same time. As Thomas got in the car, the one officer swung around and drove off the other way down the road. The officer that had hugged Thomas was in front of us driving and then he turned right and as we approached the intersection I turned and looked and there was no police car to be seen. There was no way that car could have disappeared because we were right behind it. I slowed down as I drove through that intersection looking for the police car, nothing was down that road! It was as if an angel had been there to help Thomas avoid hitting anyone or anything and make sure he came home with us that night.

We felt thankful, but little did we know or understand the roller coaster ride that was coming and would take us for a ride we could never have imagined. A scary, rough, long, exhausting and dangerous ride.

Head Injuries Shouldn't Be Ignored

Concussion is another word for traumatic brain injury. They are used interchangeably when the injury is mild and are more common than we realize. Many contact sports, biking, skate boarding, skiing, falls, running, etc..., can cause head injuries. Sometimes they go undetected because we think our headache is no big deal and we say to ourselves that we will “just work through it.” Often the residual effects last our lifetime if one does not access the proper resources and follow certain guidelines to return back to a normal state of health.

My nephew was an aerial skier at a prestigious ski resort, he was sixteen years old and an excellent skier. On one Christmas Eve afternoon a few years ago, he took a jump and over-shot it and he knew he had made a mistake. Because of his excellent physical ability and quick thinking, he managed to twist himself around in the air as to not land directly on his head, he landed on his side and his head hit the ground. At first, he could not feel his legs, but by the time the medic ski team arrived, he could move his toes. He was transported to a local children’s trauma center in and out of consciousness.

After one day at the hospital, my nephew was released home to his parents. His parents were clueless as to how to take care of him and his recovery was not a good one. He rested during the Christmas break and then was expected to return to school in the New Year. He was allowed to drive a car, watch TV, do his homework and still continue sports. I am not sure if they did not get any instructions from the hospital at discharge, or they just did not want to be bothered. I lean towards the ladder decision.

He had vision problems, severe headaches and no memory of the first six months after the injury; and to think that he was driving, how frightening! He started to take Ibuprofen and Tylenol in extreme doses, then he began looking for other drugs that would relieve the headaches and “make him feel normal” as he described. His straight A grade-point average was slipping fast and his fun-loving personality had changed. He worked at a local grocery store and someone there told him he knew just what to take for his headaches. Percocet! My nephew was hooked. When he no longer could get the Percocet, he began experimenting with other drugs such as Kratom which he ended up taking in huge quantities. This was very expensive and trying to keep that habit going meant finding a way to get more money to buy it.

He continued to play football as the quarterback, which his mother supported him in, and he had several more concussions. When one doctor would not allow him to play anymore, his mother would take him to a new doctor and get the necessary note to say he could still play football. At the end of his junior year in high school, after multiple head injuries, his father finally stepped in and told him he could no longer play football. My nephew was sad and hurt; not only because of not being able to play football, but the unresolved head injuries, associated headaches and inability to focus and maintain a “normal” day made him very angry. He was not the same nephew I knew, in fact, I seldom saw in him the same loving, kind boy that he used to be, he had definitely changed and no one seemed to be doing anything for him.

At age seventeen his father changed the locks on the door to their home and my nephew found himself alone and abandoned. He slept the first night on the lawn of the school grounds and the following day he contacted me for assistance as to what to do. That call has led to six years of a roller coaster ride, one I do not want to relive ever again, but I now understand head injuries and why people do what they do after getting one.

Denial is a big part of this process and eventually, you have to come to terms with your limitations and start down a healthy pathway.

A Horrific Life With a Beautiful Ending

This story is about James, written by his daughter. James was born in 1921 when his mother was 46 years old, with a sister following one year later. His parents fell in love at ages 19 and 24, both of them were working in a large mansion in the city on a street named South Temple. James’ mother was a nanny and his father was the plumber for the mansion. James’ father was not of the same religion as his mother, and at the time it was a significant problem, because his mother was not given consent by her parents to marry so the couple waited over twenty years.

After the birth of James and his sister Patricia, his father moved them into a new home he had built for the family. One day running across a lawn trying to catch the streetcar, James’ father tripped on a wire and fell, hitting his left hip on the curb and breaking his hipbone. Back in those days they did not have total hip replacements, so an elevated shoe of four to six inches was worn to even his hips out. His father was always in pain. Needless to say, he no longer could work as a plumber, so they sold the house and moved in with his mother’s brother.

James and his sister were close and the family spent many hours together in the kitchen around the table laughing and playing games together. They were very poor and James’ mother had to work to put food on the table. James loved his mother dearly but he could talk and laugh with his Aunt Lottie and they were very close.

His uncle and aunt, who were wealthy, would come take the family fishing and on other excursions. When James was nine years old, his aunt Lottie passed away, leaving his heart broken for a lifetime. He always felt the melancholy of this loss which never seemed to leave him.

James was always asked by his mother to go on the streetcar and buy day-old bread. Later in his life, he realized the funny smell and taste to the bread was mold because they had no refrigerator. Also looking back at his life, he realized how poor they really were. His mother worked from the time James was just a young boy. When James was ten years old he took a job as a paper delivery boy in the wealthy part of the city. The first money he made he went right to the corner store and bought his first jug of milk to drink. He loved fresh milk and drank it the rest of his life.

At age sixteen he left home to go work with his uncle in his factory in Idaho. He would not return again until World War II broke out, around age nineteen, he came back home long enough to sign up so he would not be drafted and leave for war.

He was a bombardier, which was very dangerous. The leaders over his division saw something very unique and requested that he stay stateside and teach the other soldiers. James was a teacher from that point on. He came out of the war and met his wife through her brother who was also serving in the war. Mary J was tiny, just five-feet one-inches high. James was six feet two inches high. She weighed all of 95 pounds when she came home from the Marines.

They courted for one year and married. James’s mother warned him that his new bride would be difficult to live with and she was right.

James graduated in zoology and biology and became a sixth-grade teacher; he later became a principal. He was one semester away from getting his master’s degree, but never completed it.

James began to see problems in Mary J within weeks of being married, she had some odd ways to her when she was around other people. She seemed irritated and said things that were not appropriate.

Despite this, James loved Mary J and he looked past her problems, for many years. Children came along and with each child James recognized changes in his wife. She took care of the children, kept them clean, well fed and dressed, but she was strange with neighbors and family. After their seventh child, a horrible accident took the life of her favorite brother and Mary J snapped, and life was never the same again. She was withdrawn, angry, accusing and violent. This behavior intensified and late one evening, James took Mary J to the hospital emergency and they admitted her to the psych ward.

There were bars on all the windows, and the doors in and out of the unit were like a jail door with bars.  I recall going to see my mother at the hospital, we both stood in front of the jail-like door waiting until someone came and opened it and let us in. When I walked into my mother’s room, I instantly was afraid of her because she was not the mother I recalled at all. Her eyes were glassy and she was very paranoid about everything said and about anything done in the room. I recall looking at my father’s face and he looked tired, worried and just plain exhausted.

My mother eventually came home but everything was different. She neglected my youngest sister completely so all of us had to pitch in and help my father out with taking care of her, she was only three years old at the time.

My mother was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. My father was told it was the worst mental illness a person could have and if he were not careful with his children, he could come home one day and we would all be dead. She would kill us because she was protecting us from other people and what they might do to us. Life would never be the same again.

Life was tough and my father worked several jobs to make ends meet. We had food and clothing, a house to live in but there was no mother, no love, no connection at all. In so many ways, my dad tried so hard to have normalcy in our family by taking us on trips every summer and to an amusement park every August. As the years came and went, the scars of such a home life destroyed us all. Paranoia about neighbors, family, and even our own friends we brought home, took its toll on all of us. My father became depressed with feelings of loneliness and despair. My siblings all went their different ways, all of us with problems of our own because of this type of upbringing.

Mother became a street person. She would leave the house around noon to go to a job and we would not see her the rest of the day. She would slip into the house in the early morning hours, having walked the streets all night after her work ended. Sometimes she did not come home at all, when we asked her where she was, she responded that she had fallen asleep in the cemetery on a bench. My mother believed everyone around her was the cause of all of her problems and my father received the worst of her venom.

Over the years my father regained his ability to see life through laughter and smiles once again. After going through a very long grieving period of losing his wife, despite being in the same house with her, he started to heal. My father passed away at age eighty-four with a clear mind, perfect eye sight, a pleasant and kind disposition. He never let the effects of his wife cause him to permanently lose sight of the purpose of his life. Two days before he died, my dad let me know how much he loved Mary J and would marry her all over again.

What a beautiful story. What a horrific life and journey. What an amazing ending.

Overcoming The Difficult Past

I was walking my dog Fritz and heard a voice call my name, I looked around and saw my yoga teacher waving to me from her car, she was in the final process of moving the last few things out of her house in our neighborhood and relocating down south. I had enjoyed the private lessons, the one on one time, the stretching and the peace yoga had brought to me. As I stood there talking with her about her new home, the area, her excitement and her concerns, I felt a melancholy come over me. For some reason I shifted into the old patterns of complaining, talking about me and my woes and going on about much but saying very little of anything good and uplifting. My yoga teacher shifted her attention to me and listened, although I could tell she was in a hurry to return to her new house and get it in order, yet she listened to me, right there in the middle of the road, as I was carrying on.

We finally said our good-byes and I waved to her as she drove down the street. The sun was warm and the sky was blue as I continued my walk towards my house. I thought back on our conversation and wondered what came over me. As evening set in, my thoughts became intense and I felt stupid about everything I had said. Why had I not just listened to her? Why was I always falling back into that same old pattern of insecurity, aloneness and self-pity? Why was I not able to overcome this pattern and be ‘normal?’ These thoughts increased as bedtime came and I tossed for several hours with thoughts of humiliation, anger, frustration and complete embarrassment.

I felt I had not improved at all over the years, just a few feelings of insecurity and bam! I was right back to my youth, feeling afraid and wondering why I was alive.

My upbringing was not a fun one at all and I understand there are many in this world that have gone through worse than I have, but there are also many, many people who have not gone through the horrible experiences I have. The scars run deep. I have spent a significant amount of time in my life in counseling, reading self-help books, taking self-improvement classes and just plain mimicking what other say and do who seem more ‘normal’ than me. All of it has really helped me and I am much happier, successful and able to be around people and not be bashful, silly and insecure. But today, the feelings of hurt, vulnerable, stupid and insecure swirled around and through me.

As night crept on, sleep had completely evaded me. I felt angry with myself for having been so foolish as to think I had anything to say. Why was I not able to just keep my mouth shut and listen? Why must I go through these scenarios over and over again and still not come out having mastered these fears and insecurities? All these questions raced in my head all night long. I tossed and turned trying to find sleep, but it would not come. I lay awake staring at the ceiling and said to myself, “So you feel you made a mistake, get over it.” Then a smile came to my face and I felt a little relief of the self-beating I was giving myself. Then the thought came to me, “my yoga teacher probably never thought twice about anything I had said because her mind was on getting home and finishing up her new house.” I laughed out loud and rolled over but still no sleep came. I got up and walked around the house and a flash back of my life came to my mind. At the age of eleven or twelve I recalled having feelings of wanting more out of my situation in life. As I got older I wanted to be like all my friends and move on with my life but I did not know how to go about it. As I look forward, seeing where I have come from, where I am now and all the desires I have for my future, I realized I was just fine.

I babbled on and made the same mistakes of feeling inadequate - so what! I am on the road of improvement and I am still in the process of making my journey of life the best I can. I have a dream to stay on a pathway that leads me to a better understanding of all I have witnessed and lived through. It is my unique journey, my path of life and I can and will continue to better myself, to be more aware of who I am, what I say, how I say things and to whom I am saying it.

We all learn from one another. Some days I am right on target and feel so good about my progress in life. Other days I feel out of sorts and wish a rock would fall on me and bury me. This is called life and bad things can happen, very, very bad things can happen to us, but good things can happen too. Sometimes we feel we have no more energy or strength to continue, but then the strength comes and we move forward on our journey a little further.

Remember, you are truly not alone!

The Road to Happiness, Fulfillment and Love

A basic need in life is love, to be loved, to give love and to be in love. I am at the time of life that offers me with a better understanding, and with this I have come to the profound conclusion that receiving and giving love is the ultimate way to bring happiness and fulfillment in life. I receive love every single day from five most loving and giving friends life could ever offer.  They range from ages 9 to 12 and are full of love, excitement, happiness and adventure. Their names are Tommy, Spud, Fritz, Dex and Hampton, my friends and my life. 

Tommy and Spud are brothers. Tommy is a lion at heart. He is fierce and a defender of the realm, protector of all. On the flip side, my Tommy is tender and soft with adorable ways. At a routine exam we received the devastating news that Tommy had malignant cancer and has just several months to live. Tommy sleeps most of the day now, but is still full of life in his eyes with a lot of kisses and snuggles. Spud is exactly like his name. He is round and cute. He is my soul mate.  Fritz is obedient and truly understands everything we say to him. Dex is our little troublemaker with the cutest ears and loves that melt your heart. We rescued Hampton and he has brought challenges and blessings. He now fits in and is deciding to stay home and not run.

What brings love and tenderness in your life? What brings happiness to you? These are very important questions to ask yourself.  As people, we are never better than the questions we can ask of ourselves. To be engaged and know yourself is the key to happiness. 

I can sit for hours and watch my five boys play, fight, romp and eat. Each one of them have a uniqueness about them. Spud loves to take one piece of food out of the bowl and carry it away from the others. He rolls on the piece of food and his right paw carefully plays with the food. Then he looks around to make sure none of the others are coming over. He plays with it some more before he eats it. He will do this over and over again with one piece of food. Spud is going to be 15 years old this year and this unique way about him was there when he was just four to five months old. He hasn’t changed at all.

Tommy is so fierce as he protects and challenges every person and his brothers. But holding Tommy is like holding a baby. He cuddles and rests his head on my shoulder as he gives me kisses on my neck. Once in a while, I think on how it will be when he and is brother Spud are no longer with me.  I do not feel sad, I feel blessed.

There is not one thing in this life that brings me peace like looking into the eyes of my five best friends. 

Happiness, love and peace are all wrapped up in five bundles of joy for me. Now, I never use to see all of this. I never used to take the time to relax and just watch my dogs play and eat. I was always too busy for that.

But life can take its twists and turns and one day you wake up and realize you are not immortal; your life is finite, short and you want more out of it. Not just work, eat, sleep and start over again. You want to see, feel and experience all you can. The smells, the little noises, the cute ways and the tender love my boys give to me are priceless. This is happiness and peace and it brings health and wellness.

Take a good inventory of your own life. Are you going through the motions, or are you caught up in the race of time, wanting more money, working longer hours, not getting enough sleep and definitely not taking the time to see the simple things in life?  I understand well because that is where I have come from. Sixty to eighty hours a week at work, taking care of a home and family, never having enough to go around, sleeping five to six hours a night and thinking I was getting enough sleep. Never, ever taking the time to relax and breathe and “smell the roses”.

I plead with all of you who are reading this, please sit down for a few minutes, take in a slow, deep breath and let it out slowly. Relax. Ask yourself what you want out of this life, what are you suppose to be doing with your life and let it ascend out into the universe. Start the journey now of self-awareness which will lead you to the road of happiness, fulfillment and love.

The Sky is the Limit

There is a famous saying, “the sky is the limit.” Several years ago, I was out jogging with my two of five dogs. I so enjoyed jogging in the fresh air and especially in the evening to clear my mind and help me to sleep. I had left a little later than I wanted to on this particular evening so I was more hurried than usual. I went on my route that took me through University campus with beautiful grassy areas, trees and many students scurrying to get to their evening classes. As I made my loop and headed back down the hill, I remember seeing the sun hanging in the horizon and then – I fell, I hit my knee and proceeded to smack my forehead directly on the cement sidewalk. I recall now pushing up on my hands and saying, “oh, no, I have hit my head,” and I rolled to my left hip because my left knee hurt. After that, I did not remember much for at least a month. 

When I began to recall the events, almost one month to my fall, it came in very clear. I had sat on my left hip and passed out, hitting the side of my head on the cement. When I awoke, it was dark and my dogs were still on their leashes that were around my wrists. I could not move, but I could see feet walking past me and could hear voices. I hollered, I thought, but the swelling in my brain was so immediate that it had affected my speech. I remember wondering why no one was helping me. Then the thought occurred to me that I could be dead. But I could see my dogs moving around, so I was not dead!

When I could finally push myself up to a sitting position, I saw the blood and knew something was really wrong. I had my cell phone with me but did not know how to use it or who to call. I found out later I had called my sister and a friend, but I had not made much sense so they were very worried.

Somehow, I walked to a hospital about fifteen minutes away. When I arrived, someone saw me holding my head and got a wheelchair and took me to the emergency room. Because I could not tell them what had happened, the police officer came and spoke with me and took a photo.

Even today, I still do not fully recall how I ever walked to that hospital or how I figured out which way to go.  I may never recall that.

I was put in an exam room and when the woman who asks about insurance came in to speak with me, I just starred at her. She brought the nurse in and I was quickly moved to another side of the emergency room. I recall clearly hearing the nurse say to me, “you just bought yourself a ticket to the other side.” I thought I was going to die and she was hurrying me to an area away from others in the emergency room.

I went for a CT scan of my brain. As I was being wheeled back to a room the nurse said, “I cannot believe you do not have a bleed.” All of this was frightening.

The doctors and nurses gave me a lot of medications, my vital signs were watched closely and the laceration of my forehead was stitched up. I was in the emergency room for close to seven hours before they released me. This entire ordeal took two years to remember. My vision had really been affected. I had no peripheral vision in my right eye. When I looked at anyone or anything, one eye showed things very close and the other eye showed everything very far away. I was not permitted to drive for six months. I recall walking out front of our house and feeling like I had no balance at all. Any crack in the sidewalk seemed like it was feet apart and I would try to jump over the huge crevasses.

My sister now lets me know that she really worried if I would ever be the sister she remembered. I had very little memory, I did not laugh much, I would get angry very quickly and I would get lost often. Many times, when my sister spoke with me, she felt like “the lights are on but no one is home.

I went to rehab to learn many skills again. The one thing I learned was my limitations. I was always someone who could function just fine on five to six ours of sleep a night. I had energy and accomplished much during a day. Now, I had to limit TV watching, cleaning house, yard work and there was no driving. I had to sleep between twelve and fourteen hours a day so my brain could heal. I recall the rehab doctor saying to me that at my age, if I did not follow his instructions precisely, I might not recover fully. He told me never to “hit the wall of exhaustion.” I really was not sure what that meant.

I remember one evening having done too much. I thought I was doing better and I cleaned the house and ran some errands with family members. When I returned home, I felt sick, my head just was not functioning right. My vision was off and I felt nauseated and with a throbbing headache. I realized I had “hit the wall.” I now know what this meant and was determined to never do that again. I had always believed in that saying, “the sky is the limit.” My life now is more practical. I still accomplish a lot, but I have learned to be kind to myself. I take naps when I need to feel well and not cram so much into a day. I take daily walks (no more jogging). I enjoy my dogs more, I listen more, I feel the sun on my face and soak it up. I love to see the storms move in across the sky. I read more, I laugh more and I know myself better than before my accident. I have limitations now and I have embraced them, but they do not limit me from a life of peace, wellness and grace. I am moving forward daily on exploring “the sky is the limit” for me and how I can have well-being.

Ripples

I read an article today that talked about throwing a peddle into a quiet pond and watching the ripple effect. Our small acts of change towards a life of health and wellness will make all the difference beyond our immediate circumstances, just as the ripples in a quiet pond turn into larger ripples.

I received a call from a good friend this week. She had a tragic fall off the edge of her tub almost two years ago. She jumped up on the edge of the tub to grab something, as she was jumping off backwards to the ground, she caught her foot and landed flat on her back with the back of her head hitting the tile floor. She was immobilized for a few minutes, she was not sure if she lost consciousness, but her head was throbbing.

My friend did not go see a doctor. She is a very athletic person, always exercising, eating good food and taking care of her family. As she got herself up off of the floor, she decided to just push through thinking it would get better.

Her situation unfortunately did not get better. It declined and she was unable to function the way she needed to in order to take care of her own needs, let alone her family. She asked family, friends and neighbors to suggest whom she might go see to get the help she needed to feel “normal” again.

She had massages, went to a chiropractor, slept a lot, tried not to exercise, then finally, she went to see a specialist. She spent $10,000 and stayed a week as they took a MRI, tested her strength and cognitive abilities. After the week of intense therapy, she could once again play the piano and function.

As the months have passed by, she is once again struggling with fatigue, headaches, numbness in her upper extremities and feeling depressed. She contacted me and the following was my instructions to her.

I have several questions I asked my friend:

- What advice and guidelines were given to her?
- Did she follow the advice and guidelines?
- Did someone give her a time frame of the recovery period for such a head injury?
- Is she willing to change her lifestyle in order to heal?

I recommended that she give up her weight lifting, running, water and snow skiing for a period of time to allow her head to heal. She said she had gone water skiing during the past summer and felt she had re-injured her head. I have no doubt that she did. Hitting the water at the speed a boat must go to keep a person up water skiing is fast, and hitting the water can be like hitting cement.

She wants to get better; she just has not wanted to do the many things that are vital to have as close to full recovery as possible. She will now have to sacrifice those things that have brought her enjoyment and fun; replace them with a quieter lifestyle and see where this road takes her.

Almost two years later my friend will do yoga to stretch, she will be in bed as close to 10:00 pm as possible and she will take naps during the day. She has now received assistance with the laundry and other chores in the house. She will take walks, sit and relax and continue to eat good food. She will also connect with a good healthcare provider who can monitor her progress and give medical advice as needed. Most importantly, she along with her family will graciously accept her limitations, embrace the quieter lifestyle and learn from it. The outcome of this simple step could be the biggest adjustment with the greatest reward.

Just like the pebble into the quiet pond, these requests seem so unimportant when considering her circumstances. But the ripple effect of these simple steps will give her brain the rest it needs to heal.

She is now taking control of this tragic situation, understanding it, receiving instructions and hopefully following the counsel given her to a better life of health and wellness.

Life Lessons From Molly

I graduated from nursing school and started on the general medicine floor of the local Trauma I hospital. It was a horrific start. In nursing school, I heard often that ‘nurses eat their young’ but I did not understand that, nor did I put much thought into it. Come to find out, only one month into my new nursing job, I knew exactly what that meant. Nurses are a breed of their own, they can be cruel, backbiting and right down mean to one another. You would think in a field that was dominated by women at the time I graduated, they would pull together and support one another, but heavens no, they were horrible to one another.

I had worked about six months and was exhausted at the constant complaining and unkindness. I often found myself telling the other nurses if they wanted it to be different, make it that way. That simple opinion did not get me on the ‘best liked’ side of the nurses I worked with. I simply could not understand why this huge group of women did not want to make a change for the better.

I was working an afternoon shift when I got to know Molly. She was quiet, kept to herself and took good care of her patients. On this afternoon she was sitting at the table where we did our charting and she pointed to me and motioned for me to come over to her. I did just that. I sat down next to her and she proceeded to enlighten me on the subject of nurses and the BIG mistake I was making.

Molly explained that most of the women on the unit were “working moms” and most of them were single moms and the ones that were not, had deadbeat husbands that expected them to support the family. Molly also let me know that the complaining and griping was a release and not one of them would do anything to cause any kind of a rife. This was their life and they accepted it. Molly said something profoundly true and blunt to me. She called me by name and said I did not belong working on a hospital floor like this, that I wanted more in life and I was not going to find it working that job. She told me she expected me to work two years or less and I would move on to greater challenges.

Molly was absolutely right.  Her quiet observations and astute sense of character were correct because I worked two years and then transferred into another area of the hospital. I set my sights on making the money of a manager but not having the responsibilities and headaches that go along with that type of job.

After the conversation with Molly, I would observe her every shift we worked together. She never said much to anyone, she did her job and took her breaks faithfully. Every time she was on her shift, whether a morning or afternoon, she ate a hamburger, fries and a shake consistently.

I asked Molly once why she always ate the same thing day after day and her reply was, “I love hamburgers, fries and shakes and no one is going to tell me how to eat and I want to die young”.

Several years after I had moved on to different nursing jobs I heard from a former co-worker that Molly had gotten sick, that her illness turned into sepsis and she was admitted to the ICU at the hospital we worked together at and there she passed away in her 50s. Just as she had told me, she died at a young age and eating the food she wanted to eat.

I have often thought about Molly and her decision to understand what she wanted in life, her quiet, observant ways and her ability to state facts and live by them. As for me, eating that way is not something I would enjoy, but Molly did and she knew herself. She knew that eating that way would shorten her life span and that was just fine with her.

What is it that you want in your life? This question is one that each of us must ask ourselves. 

Do I want to be healthy, fit, trim, calm, happy, serene, peaceful, energetic, quiet, observant, a good listener, experienced, understanding, wealthy, abundance in many areas of my life?

Over the years I have grown to admire Molly for her determination, Molly knew what she wanted and lived it.