On Saturday morning, September 13, I was in Yakima for my high school reunion, stayng with my mother-in-law. I went down the hill to the barn with Mike in his pickup. It was the first time I had gone down there since October 3, 2003. We were looking for Western things to use as decorations in the upcoming fundraiser I am doing for John’s memorial scholarship. We found a few things but on the way back up I asked Mike to stop and show me the spot where they found John and to tell me a little more about it.
He tried to explain what he thought had happened with the tractor. John had a pallet or something similar on the hydraulic forks on the back of the tractor. It appeared that he had parked the tractor diagonally against the edge of the hill and had gotten off to try to clean some of the brush prunings off or push them back towards the edge or in some way prepare the tractor to dump the load he had on the forks. Then he had apparently gotten back on the tractor and started to back it up and possibly hit the brake, causing the tractor to spin perhaps 180 degrees. Somehow that caused the tractor to lose its footing and it began to go down the hill. The forks must have caught on the hillside and flipped the tractor and he thinks it rolled at least twice. At least one of those times it rolled on John and caught him below the sternum.
I had known his pelvis was crushed; they told me that when he was still at Memorial, but I didn’t know the extent of the injuries. I just knew he was bleeding profusely, but I had no idea where the blood was coming from; I’m not sure the doctors did, either. From his broken bones, from crushed organs, maybe everywhere.
Mike went to the hospital as soon as he learned that John was there, and he talked to the doctors. He was the one who called me from the hospital to let me know of the accident. The doctors told him John’s veins and arteries had been crushed, that they didn’t know if they could patch them back together and weren’t even sure they could tell which veins went where.
Mike said he was conscious part of the time, his eyes were open, but he was clearly in shock. Mike talked to him and stroked his head, telling him what had happened and asking him to blink if he understood. Mike says he blinked several times, and he didn’t think that was a normal reaction from someone in shock unless they were consciously able to move their eyes in response. Mike seemed to think that with his body in shock, John was not feeling the pain – his body had taken as much pain as it could and his nervous system was no longer able to process the pain.
Mike flew on the plane that took John to Boeing Field and then on the ambulance that raced from the airport to Harborview. While they were in the air, flying over Mt. Rainier, John’s heart stopped. Mike told him he didn’t know of any way to get him closer to God than where they were right at that moment and if he had to go, now would be as good a time as any.
But the medical personnel plunged a needle into his heart and pumped it full of adrenaline, they performed cpr almost non-stop until they arrived at the hospital, simultaneously pumping blood into him to try to staunch the flow and keep him alive.
At the hospital they rushed him into emergency and began working on him. At first they wouldn’t let Mike in but then they did and as they were working they suddenly all stopped and it was clear that John had died. They left Mike with him, giving their condolences as they left the operating room. Mike wasn’t sure if seconds or minutes had gone by since he first arrived at emergency.
This confirms my belief that if he had survived, John’s life would have been horribly painful. With the extent of his injuries, it would have cost a fortune to do the medical interventions necessary to just patch him up and keep him alive. We would have probably had to file bankruptcy once the medical insurance was topped out. There is no knowing if there was a brain injury. There is no knowing whether he would have ever walked again – most likely not. There is a strong probability that he would have lived with excruciating pain, both physical and psychological. Undoubtedly he would never have been the same person.
While I miss John on an ongoing basis almost daily, even five years later, it is abundantly clear that this pain is far less than it would have been to see him suffer as a result of the injuries. It is abundantly clear to me that regardless of the struggles I have to face now, they are nothing compared to what we would have had to deal with: physically, emotionally, financially.
I told Mike if it were me on the plan with John, I would have stopped them from restarting his heart, if I were aware of the extent of the injuries. That’s easy for me to say now, but would I have really been able to do that? And then how much, how often would I have second-guessed myself.
For me this is the final piece of perspective. I know God has welcomed John home and he is whole and happy and well and deeply beloved there. He is remembered with love by many here. I am quite sure if he had lived, it would have been hell for us both. So once again, I find strong reason to trust in God and know that things happen for reasons we can’t always understand at the time, maybe never. God did not cause this accident, but God had the kindness to allow John to lose this battle and, ultimately, win Heaven.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Enough Proves Too Much
Here’s the thing about me. I waffle and hem and haw over decisions, small and large. I go over scenarios and try to pick the best, safest, smartest course. But then something pushes me over the edge and when I make a decision, it’s all over but the shouting and the second guessing.
So my Saturn has been very unpleasant lately. When I went to DMV to renew my driver’s license on Tuesday -- armed to the teeth with passport, birth certificate, marriage license, John’s death certificate, address information, tax records, etc. -- the car refused to start as I was preparing to leave DMV.
When I took my daughter-in-law, Dee, to see Phantom of the Opera for her birthday -- it was marvelous, though half the theater was empty; why do they charge so much for the seats and then have half of them sit empty??? -- it took us several minutes to get the Saturn started afterwards. On the way home it continued to surge and hesitate and kept threatening to die every time we came to a stop light. On the way home the temperature gauge would plunge down to “0” and then back up randomly. Never seen anything like that before.
While I was driving her home we talked about my RAV4 that they have and I finally realized I just wasn’t going to get that back without a fight. And you know how much I love a fight -- not at all. They really need a bigger car with seatbelts for all the boys but they can’t afford it right now.
So on Wednesday morning I called a friend who works at Broadway Toyota, only to be told he no longer works there. So I went on line, made some phone calls, and decided to go check out some used RAV4s at the Toyota dealership in Gladstone, just a few miles away from me. I told myself before I went that if they had a good one with low miles, and a color I liked -- preferably silver or blue but definitely not black or red, that it might be a sign for me.
We looked at several and I really liked a 2006 with only 14,800 miles, but it was more than I wanted to pay. We talked about price, they looked at the Saturn as a trade in. And guess what: it refused to start. Totally refused. They had one of their mechanics come out and look it over and his early diagnosis was that it might need a new engine.
So of course they couldn’t give me much for trade in value. But I have things to do, places to go. I need a reliable vehicle that can also haul things bigger than a shoebox. So I wrote them check and now am the proud owner of a 2006 RAV4, silver in color, just like my 2001. I actually like this one better. It's a bit bigger and seems more solid, has a slightly bigger engine, and supposedly it will get a couple miles more per gallon, 23 and 28 versus 20 and 25. Of course, the Saturn gets much better mileage -- when it is running correctly.
It almost seemed like fate: that they had what I was looking for, even the right color, and then my car refused to start. At least, that’s the way I took it; I’m supposed to have this Toyota. I just wish I could have gotten more for my trade-in.
I will give Karl and Dee the title to the 2001 and they can use it to trade for a minivan. It should have sufficient value to get them a pretty decent one. Financially this is not a smart move on my part, but I feel I am putting good Karma out there -- doing something good for my son and his family. It will come back to me in positive ways; I trust in that. Maybe down the road they will be able to pay me back. I will need to find ways to make sure Kristin gets equal help somewhere when/if she needs it. But for now I am getting far too close to being broke and so it is absolutely imperative for me to finish the book and pray that it sells, pray that the motor home sells quickly (like I HAVEN'T been doing that!!), or go and find a job or a room mate, or maybe all of the above.
It means there will be no kitchen remodel or adding a sunroom in the foreseeable future. There are some repairs I need to make before winter, but that is all I can do, that and finish the floor into the entryway. I can’t go out and buy any more furniture or furnishings, or spend money on dinners out or tickets to Broadway productions or other entertainment -- not that I do that more than once every decade -- or vacations. In fact, I just set up my airline tickets for my annual trip to Cabo in December for my timeshare (I tried renting it out this year -- no takers) and even using up all my 40,000 Frequent Flier miles it still cost me $350 for a ticket. This may be the last year for that trek, also.
So I’m finding that what I thought was a fairly secure future is looking a bit more sketchy, especially with the financial markets being so crazy and inflation looking ominous. But I need reliable transportation that isn’t going to strand me in a dark parking lot somewhere this winter. And, as always, I need to trust that all will be well.
So my Saturn has been very unpleasant lately. When I went to DMV to renew my driver’s license on Tuesday -- armed to the teeth with passport, birth certificate, marriage license, John’s death certificate, address information, tax records, etc. -- the car refused to start as I was preparing to leave DMV.
When I took my daughter-in-law, Dee, to see Phantom of the Opera for her birthday -- it was marvelous, though half the theater was empty; why do they charge so much for the seats and then have half of them sit empty??? -- it took us several minutes to get the Saturn started afterwards. On the way home it continued to surge and hesitate and kept threatening to die every time we came to a stop light. On the way home the temperature gauge would plunge down to “0” and then back up randomly. Never seen anything like that before.
While I was driving her home we talked about my RAV4 that they have and I finally realized I just wasn’t going to get that back without a fight. And you know how much I love a fight -- not at all. They really need a bigger car with seatbelts for all the boys but they can’t afford it right now.
So on Wednesday morning I called a friend who works at Broadway Toyota, only to be told he no longer works there. So I went on line, made some phone calls, and decided to go check out some used RAV4s at the Toyota dealership in Gladstone, just a few miles away from me. I told myself before I went that if they had a good one with low miles, and a color I liked -- preferably silver or blue but definitely not black or red, that it might be a sign for me.
We looked at several and I really liked a 2006 with only 14,800 miles, but it was more than I wanted to pay. We talked about price, they looked at the Saturn as a trade in. And guess what: it refused to start. Totally refused. They had one of their mechanics come out and look it over and his early diagnosis was that it might need a new engine.
So of course they couldn’t give me much for trade in value. But I have things to do, places to go. I need a reliable vehicle that can also haul things bigger than a shoebox. So I wrote them check and now am the proud owner of a 2006 RAV4, silver in color, just like my 2001. I actually like this one better. It's a bit bigger and seems more solid, has a slightly bigger engine, and supposedly it will get a couple miles more per gallon, 23 and 28 versus 20 and 25. Of course, the Saturn gets much better mileage -- when it is running correctly.
It almost seemed like fate: that they had what I was looking for, even the right color, and then my car refused to start. At least, that’s the way I took it; I’m supposed to have this Toyota. I just wish I could have gotten more for my trade-in.
I will give Karl and Dee the title to the 2001 and they can use it to trade for a minivan. It should have sufficient value to get them a pretty decent one. Financially this is not a smart move on my part, but I feel I am putting good Karma out there -- doing something good for my son and his family. It will come back to me in positive ways; I trust in that. Maybe down the road they will be able to pay me back. I will need to find ways to make sure Kristin gets equal help somewhere when/if she needs it. But for now I am getting far too close to being broke and so it is absolutely imperative for me to finish the book and pray that it sells, pray that the motor home sells quickly (like I HAVEN'T been doing that!!), or go and find a job or a room mate, or maybe all of the above.
It means there will be no kitchen remodel or adding a sunroom in the foreseeable future. There are some repairs I need to make before winter, but that is all I can do, that and finish the floor into the entryway. I can’t go out and buy any more furniture or furnishings, or spend money on dinners out or tickets to Broadway productions or other entertainment -- not that I do that more than once every decade -- or vacations. In fact, I just set up my airline tickets for my annual trip to Cabo in December for my timeshare (I tried renting it out this year -- no takers) and even using up all my 40,000 Frequent Flier miles it still cost me $350 for a ticket. This may be the last year for that trek, also.
So I’m finding that what I thought was a fairly secure future is looking a bit more sketchy, especially with the financial markets being so crazy and inflation looking ominous. But I need reliable transportation that isn’t going to strand me in a dark parking lot somewhere this winter. And, as always, I need to trust that all will be well.
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Battle is Joined; Death to the Wasps!
September. It brings thoughts of fruits ripening. Especially peaches. When I was a child my mother used to can and I remember September days, just after school had started, when I came home to a kitchen filled with hot, sweet-smelling steam and golden jars of elberta peaches my mother had canned.
My own bouts with nature this past weekend were less than memorable. I had finally gotten my lawn mower from my son, though it was out of gas and I no longer had a gas can as that is one of many things I got rid of last spring. Oh, and one of the wheels was broken so it wobbles very badly. I ordered a new wheel and it was supposed to be in on Friday afternoon. Friday afternoon, however, I was with friends having lunch and seeing Mama Mia (again). Oh the life of leisure! So Saturday morning I went to pick it up bright and early, since I know the shop is only open till noon on Saturdays. Except not on Labor Day weekend, apparently. Closed.
I decided to try to mow with the wobbly wheel so bought a gas can and got it filled. But then I couldn’t figure out how to make a spout or nozzle out of the lid so ended up just pouring and spilled probably a quart or more of gas. It’s okay -- I got it with my Safeway discount so it was only about $2.89 a gallon. No big deal. I can handle this little frustration.
I tried numerous times to start the mower, adjusting the choke. Nothing. Frustrated I finally parked it back in the garage. But all that spilled gas stunk and I thought it might be a little dangerous to have those fumes in my garage. So I dragged it into the back yard, over the tall grass, the fallen apples, out to the shed. The shed is probably a foot above ground so I got the front end up and then swung the back end in. I felt something prick my arm and at first was startled. Then I saw the wasps or yellow jackets or whatever they were swarming around inside the shed. Apparently they have some nests inside there. I had been stung. I raced into the house, calling for Charlie to follow. He came in his own good time, not quite sure what was going on. Sure, Charlie, you have that heavy fur coat to protect you from those nasty little buggers.
So Monday evening I am still rubbing the spot on my right tricep where it appears I was stung several times. Remind me again why I bought a house with a yard??? WHY didn’t I get a condo???
Earlier today I went shopping for yellow jacket traps. It’s war and I intend to win and take no prisoners. They shot the first volley; now I’m out to eradicate them from the shed and anywhere else on my property I find them. I love and respect honey bees and bumble bees but hornets, wasps and most especially yellow jackets are not welcome in my yard. And that apple tree that drops all those rotten, wormy messy apples in my yard might be the next casualty.
Aside from that unpleasant incident, I have been watching the coverage of Hurricane Gustav. It blew through the area where we stayed several days when we were in Louisiana in March. We were at a campground between Morgan City and Houma. We drove down into Houma and Lafourche Parish to Grand Isle. We drove up through Lafayette and Baton Rouge and, of course, through Lake Charles, and into New Orleans twice. It was very interesting to watch the coverage, see names and places I recognized. I was glad to see the hurricane avoided New Orleans and apparently the major oil pumping platforms and refineries. I was also very relieved to see there was so much better preparation this time and apparently very little loss of life. Let’s hope Ike is no worse. Or Hanna, which appears to be heading towards Georgia and/or the Carolinas. See why I like the Northwest?!? Except for the wasps, but they're everywhere, kind of like mosquitoes and turkey vultures.
My own bouts with nature this past weekend were less than memorable. I had finally gotten my lawn mower from my son, though it was out of gas and I no longer had a gas can as that is one of many things I got rid of last spring. Oh, and one of the wheels was broken so it wobbles very badly. I ordered a new wheel and it was supposed to be in on Friday afternoon. Friday afternoon, however, I was with friends having lunch and seeing Mama Mia (again). Oh the life of leisure! So Saturday morning I went to pick it up bright and early, since I know the shop is only open till noon on Saturdays. Except not on Labor Day weekend, apparently. Closed.
I decided to try to mow with the wobbly wheel so bought a gas can and got it filled. But then I couldn’t figure out how to make a spout or nozzle out of the lid so ended up just pouring and spilled probably a quart or more of gas. It’s okay -- I got it with my Safeway discount so it was only about $2.89 a gallon. No big deal. I can handle this little frustration.
I tried numerous times to start the mower, adjusting the choke. Nothing. Frustrated I finally parked it back in the garage. But all that spilled gas stunk and I thought it might be a little dangerous to have those fumes in my garage. So I dragged it into the back yard, over the tall grass, the fallen apples, out to the shed. The shed is probably a foot above ground so I got the front end up and then swung the back end in. I felt something prick my arm and at first was startled. Then I saw the wasps or yellow jackets or whatever they were swarming around inside the shed. Apparently they have some nests inside there. I had been stung. I raced into the house, calling for Charlie to follow. He came in his own good time, not quite sure what was going on. Sure, Charlie, you have that heavy fur coat to protect you from those nasty little buggers.
So Monday evening I am still rubbing the spot on my right tricep where it appears I was stung several times. Remind me again why I bought a house with a yard??? WHY didn’t I get a condo???
Earlier today I went shopping for yellow jacket traps. It’s war and I intend to win and take no prisoners. They shot the first volley; now I’m out to eradicate them from the shed and anywhere else on my property I find them. I love and respect honey bees and bumble bees but hornets, wasps and most especially yellow jackets are not welcome in my yard. And that apple tree that drops all those rotten, wormy messy apples in my yard might be the next casualty.
Aside from that unpleasant incident, I have been watching the coverage of Hurricane Gustav. It blew through the area where we stayed several days when we were in Louisiana in March. We were at a campground between Morgan City and Houma. We drove down into Houma and Lafourche Parish to Grand Isle. We drove up through Lafayette and Baton Rouge and, of course, through Lake Charles, and into New Orleans twice. It was very interesting to watch the coverage, see names and places I recognized. I was glad to see the hurricane avoided New Orleans and apparently the major oil pumping platforms and refineries. I was also very relieved to see there was so much better preparation this time and apparently very little loss of life. Let’s hope Ike is no worse. Or Hanna, which appears to be heading towards Georgia and/or the Carolinas. See why I like the Northwest?!? Except for the wasps, but they're everywhere, kind of like mosquitoes and turkey vultures.
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