Memory Eternal (sorry I'm late, Grandma, and Grandpa)

Missing Grandma Grace's birthday in June (16?) was a bad habit in this family. After losing Grandpa, she had to downsize to an apartment and eventually to a nursing home. She lost two sons before she died. She paid more attention to us kids' birthdays and didn't expect anything in return. A salute to a woman who persevered in the circumstances she was given, and passed away at the age of 96.

Grandpa Walter, however, deserves more honorable mention. Anyone who took world history noted his birthday was Bastille Day (July 14), although the only revolution he ever subscribed to was that of Christ. He lost his mother at 12, took flak from his stepmother for marrying a divorcee with a child, lost his wife when she was 57, remained a widower for 13 years, kicked smoking cold turkey at the age of 70, and quietly passed from lung cancer at 75.

This was the only man my mom called Daddy. He was the only man my sisters and I knew as Grandpa; Dad's father died when I was 3, Grace was 2, and Deb not yet born. I am confident that he knelt before the throne of God and declared himself unworthy, and was told, "Friend, come up higher."



PS. Any news on the baby, NIkki and Dan?

Survived surgery (ha)

Bob and I were the first customers at Paoli surgery center last Wednesday -even waiting for the door to be unlocked. I was dressed and prepped; and waited, and waited....... When the doctor arrived I asked if the traffic on the 202 was bad. He replied that he was at a prayer breakfast for a friend and it went a little overtime. (Note to self: Keep this doctor. A doctor who prays is not going to be cocky about his own powers!)

I was positioned on the table before the sedative took effect. So when I awoke, still on the table, I was expecting the quick removal of a 1" orthopedic hardware screw. The nurse handed me a specimen jar (for you-know-what) with a screw spanning the diagonal volume of it. THAT'S 2 1/2 TO 3 INCHES!!! Then she added that they had to boost my anesthesia to spinal anesthesia. Guess that screw was a lot harder to extract. Plus there was a sac of fluid on my knee that had to be drained before anything else could be done. That was the point of removing the screw; it irritated the skin over it. So it was THAT bad, that my knee tried to make a water balloon cushion. When I had shaken off a mild nauseous feeling, by burping out all the air in my empty stomach, I was repositioned on a gurney and rolled to the post-operative area.

I lay a short while in the post-operative area. Once sensation had returned to my ankles and I could rotate my feet, I was moved from post-op to the recovery area at the other end of the room. The nurses raised the head of my gurney to a semi-sitting position so I could eat. Graham crackers are a standard in medical facilities - not salty, nor empty calories - and I chose to wash them down with ginger ale. Take that, nausea!

The last surprise came before leaving. I had chosen to dress in the restroom. I found my legs worked fine, but my nether lands were a block of numb wood! I was freaked enough to pull the call light. The nurse responding told me that all was normal: the very end of the spine is the last to recover. "Numb butt? It'll come to in an hour." I wondered if (a) they retained men until all the feeling had returned or (b) anyone male had ever threatened a lawsuit. It seems to be a tenet in this culture that a man who is dead in this department may as well be dead and buried. And yes, feeling had returned by the time I got home.

Bob stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the Vicodin. I took it for a day and a half and promptly misplaced the bottle - I guess I knocked it off while sleeping in my living room lounger. So I went back to my Aleve-and-Extra Strength acetaminophen arthritis routine. The only thing that hurts more than usual is hitting the two-stitch incision. This too, friends, shall pass.

Stumbling through family history

You wouldn't believe it from looking at me, but:I'm 5/512ths Iroquois Confederacy.

That's 1/512 Oneida - a Tory colonist married a French Canadian - Oneida woman about the time of the Revolutionary War (marriage legally recognized) Mom's side

And 1/128 Mohawk - around 1850 a Mohawk - white man was part of a raid and raped one of the settlers. (Observation is probably not 100% accurate. I suspect the man may have been the child of a white man raping a Mohawk girl, and that he decided to 'return the "favor"')
Dad's side
(you can be sure they kept this one covered up!)

What does it mean for me? High-set cheeks, an unusual set of blood proteins besides the A-B-O positive and negative, and the conviction that Custer acted stupidly in the Indian Wars and paid the ultimate price for it.

Also, the recognition that there are always two sides to every story... and that the majority view isn't always the right, just, or fair conclusion to a problem.

Prayer, por favor

For friends, family, and anyone not bored stiff reading my declaration of a pox on the digital conversion:

I'm having surgery next Wednesday on my bum left knee. The orthopedist is taking out a dubiously-placed screw in hope of giving me some relief from the pain that is my constant companion.
Love to all, and Thank you.