September to October

Mid-September, 2004.
Mom came over one day, for a reason I don't remember anymore. She was quieter than usual, smiling in almost a sad way at 2 1/2 year-old Isabelle and 7 month-old Lorelei.
I asked her if something was wrong. And there was.

My Dad had chronic lymphocytic leukemia.

She explained it in the best way she could, but all I could hear was cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
I've never been so scared in all my life. I stumbled to Geoff's office and managed to choke out, "My Dad....has....cancer....".
Over the next few days, I learned all that I could about the disease. I was encouraged by the many instances I read about, the patients who lived with this for years, even decades.
Dad and Mom asked for a meeting with my brother and me, to discuss things my Dad wanted to talk about. Mostly the land and how he never wanted it split up and sold, estate stuff...that kind of thing.
Even as I talked with my family about the "what ifs", I refused to think that Dad might not win this fight.


October 17, 2004
A cold day found all of us (family, old friends, everyone) at a barn party. Delicious, bad-for-you casseroles, chips and dip, and the ever-present beer. Dad had begun his first round of chemo the week before. He seemed okay.
The chill and the kids forced us to leave before the party wound down. As we left, I walked up behind Dad, squeezed his arm, and said, "Bye, Dad". He half-turned, and said, "Bye, Sue".

October 18th, 2004
Mom called in the afternoon. Dad was pretty ill with a high fever and chills. He and Mom were at the hospital, and they were assured that this was probably from the chemo....that Dad had caught a cold or the flu because the chemo had wrecked his immune system. Mom was going home to sleep...nothing to worry about.
I remember chatting later with my cousin Mary Lou. About Dad. About the Northern Flicker in my backyard.

October 19th, 2004. 2:20 am.
The phone rang.
Mom's voice cracked over the line. "Dad's not doing very good. Can you come now?"
I was backing out of the driveway by 2:23.
The night was foggy, almost impossibly so. An Amber Alert was blaring over all the highway signs. The 50 minute drive took forever.
Steve, my brother, met me at the ER entrance. He didn't say anything.
We walked down dark, solemn hallways to a small room where Mom was.
I sat down and put my arm around her shoulders.
She looked at me, then at Steve. "You didn't tell her?"
Steve looked at the floor.
Mom gathered her strength from somewhere, looked into my eyes and said, "Honey, Dad died."

The world went out, like a blown light bulb.

*Dad's pre-chemo tests had shown that he had at least a few minor heart attacks sometime in the past. The doctor informed Dad that chemo would be a risk. Dad chose to proceed anyway.*

In halting words, Mom told me of the events that had transpired during my 50-minute drive. Dad had gone into cardiac arrest. The doctors and nurses had worked on him for at least 20 minutes. He died at 2:30 am, seven minutes after I had left my house.

The three of us walked deeper into the quiet hospital to see Dad. As we passed the nurses' station, I heard one of them say, "Poor thing. She didn't make it in time".
Dad was in a cold, half-lit room, with a sterile white blanket pulled up to his shoulders.
Steve went in first, and reached back to grab my hand. He hadn't held my hand since I was 5 years old.
Reality was warping around me. But I put a hand on Dad's forehead and leaned down to kiss him.

And a last whisper....."Daddy".


I wasn't going to post tonight, but Mary's post here turned the pitcher of my memory right over.
The ones we love can be here one day, gone the next. Or they can slowly disappear from us over the course of years. Either way, it leaves us an unbalanced equation. The thing that keeps us righted is removed and we stumble.

Birds, planets and comic strips on the ceiling

So many things happen some days, I have to choose what I am going to post about. If you are someone like Laura, you have this perfect post with relevant information to go along with her pictures. Or if you are like Julie (and let's face it, WHO IS?) anything you post is perfect.
Or, if you are like Mary, you can make any jumble of nonsense hilarious and readable.
Or Lynne, or Vicki, or Liza, or Mon@rch...
Okay, Susan, get it together and make a post of cohesion and weight.
...
...
Okay, I can't do it. Back to your regularly scheduled here-and-there post.
Today, I had time between dropping off the girls and a medical appointment. (More on that in a minute)
So I went and sat in my car and did some "car-blind-birding", and I am glad I did.
I saw a blue-gray gnatcatcher (didn't get a pic...no surprise there, the little fussy buggers)...

...and a brown creeper. I thought they were hard to find when I read about them in my field guide, but I have seen two in the last few months in different locations with ease. Yay, me.

They don't stand out much, do they?

I also got a picture of the rump of a yellow-rumped warbler. I have a soft spot for these guys, because they were the first warbler I ever saw outside of Magee Marsh.

"I'm your Venus, I'm your fire..."
Geoff and I had a few seconds of peace out on the swing in the backyard tonight, and I got this shot of Venus as it was rising in the West.
The reason we were outside in the first place:

We have a chickadee sitting in the sunflower nest box. That's her tail you can see in the entrance.
Now, the appointment.
(Geoff may cringe, but I don't mind telling people about certain things)
Hey, you men who read this...you can handle it. And you may learn something.
I had a "woman's" appointment today. I have been rather lax about keeping up my annual visits...as in, I haven't been there since Lorelei was born, three years ago.
What set a fire under me was that I have not had a period in almost three months. Pregnant? Nope. Already took a test and it was negative.
So, after that oh-so-lovely pelvic exam (and by the way, if you live in the Cincinnati area and need a OBGYN office, I highly recommend Seven Hills Women's Health Centers. They have both docs and midwives (I see the midwives) and they are great. Those midwives do the fastest Pap smear and pelvic on the planet. By the time you are just starting to read the comics on the ceiling, they are DONE)
Anyway...
My midwife and I discussed some of the reasons for my problem.
1. I could have temporarily low hormones, which could be fixed with a "Provara Challenge", where I take Provera for 10 days to "kick start" my cycles.
2. I could have a thyroid deficiency.
3. I could be diabetic.
4. I could have some unknown infertility problem.
So...I am waiting on the blood work results and we will go from there. If Geoff and I were done having children, I really wouldn't have anything to worry about (except for the diabetes possiblity). But we would like to have one more, someday.
Peri-menopause never came up, though I guess that's a possibility, too.
But I'm only 34! I am supposed to have many child-bearing years left, right?
So now you know.
Aren't you glad you checked my blog tonight?

Feelin' better, bald eagle, and why it's good to be friendly with other birders

Word of the Day:
moribund \MOR-uh-bund\, adjective:
1. In a dying state; dying; at the point of death.
2. Becoming obsolete or inactive.

Jeepers.

Did I see the bald eagle?
We will get to that in a minute.
First, there was a lot of mockingbird attitude going on in the front yard today.

Dude was all over the suet.
He was not a happy camper when the starlings moved in.

"Back off, you stupid starlings!"

"I mean it!!!"

"OH, I don't THINK so..."

"Okay, okay, we get the hint!"

"I rule this suet, because I am Mr. Yellow-Eyed Fluffy Pants."

"And I want THAT berry right THERE."

"What a beautiful specimen of my species I am."

Meanwhile, over in the crabapple, a cardinal dozed off...if you look close, you can see his nictating membrane.

Over in the back yard, I saw snow shadows. See the snow by the fence? The trees shielded it from the warm sun, and voila..snow shadows.

A flock of robins were tossing the leaves under the maples. I thought I would help them out by sweeping the leaves away from the base of the trees.
They approved.

Now, onto the eagle:
This is not an eagle. Just a red-tailed hawk.

I used my temporary scope (I so don't want to give it back) to check out the action at the gravel pits. I saw:
Coots
Ruddy ducks
Redheads
Buffleheads
Ring-Necked ducks
A female American wigeon, I think...some birders have seen a Eurasian wigeon here, but I was too far away to really be sure.
While scoping, a car pulled up behind me. A fellow birder came up and asked what I was seeing. She asked if I was looking for the eagle. Turns out that she had just seen it about 2 miles down the road. Hopped in the car and went searching.
Did I see the bald eagle?
YEP.
Did I get a picture of it?
NOPE.
Damn. I will try again.

Happy Groundhog Day/Full Moon.


I have wanted to bring up something for quite a while. I have had a post in draft mode for ages, but haven't posted it because it didn't feel right.
Lynne brought up her past use of antidepressants in a comment last night, and I love her for it. I know you all like me, so I feel safe in talking about my mental health.
I have been in therapy off and on since I was 13. First it was for motivation in school (IQ tests to show that I definitely had the brains, and realizing that I was just not being challenged enough) and a few years back when I was pregnant with Isabelle, a new therapist. He did nothing for me. Then, 3 years ago I found my soul-mate therapist. She has seen me through my Dad's passing, my anger, my depression.
I have been on antidepressants for 2 years now, and it seems to be working...except for the times that I react in ways that are not appropriate for the situation. I don't let these feelings out when I am away from my family, such as at a RAPTOR program or out in public. My safety zone is my family, and unfortunately my family also takes the brunt of my anger. I am not abusive, I do not hit, but I yell and I say things in ways I don't mean. The meds have reduced my depression and it feels great. (It looks like I have needed this for years, since high school)
Where does all this stem from? Partly, a chemical imbalance in my brain that I can't help. And partly, a crappy relationship that nearly squashed my self-esteem. When I was 16, I was dating a 22 year old man. Why would a man want to date a 16 year old? You can figure that out.
I wouldn't get into details. I will just say that he was not a nice person.
He was mean and abusive.
That relationship colored every other one to come along. Thank goodness Geoff is understanding. He obviously saw past all my baggage to look into my soul and saw the small, undamaged part of me. He taught me that I was worth loving.
The only thing in the way of me becoming the person I really am inside is that the meds and therapy aren't helping 100%. My therapist wants me to see someone else, to determine if I have "soft bi-polarity". Lovely. I don't think I am, but everyone I have told about it has NOT been surprised. I am not the type you see on TV shows...I just have mood swings from Hell. I am not Mother of the Year sometimes. I am not the wife that Geoff deserves. But I can be. I feel it. I want that.
So there you are. I'm not perfect, and I don't think anyone expects me to be. But I could be happier. You guys, who read my blog, see the side that I truly am, the ME that shows up in small bursts. The loony, fun, sweet Me. I want to invite her to stay forever.

Just try to stay awake

Word of the Day:
pellucid \puh-LOO-sid\, adjective:
1. Transparent; clear; not opaque.
2. Easily understandable.

What a non-day.
I attended a funeral this morning, which was nice, and peaceful, and sad.
For the past few days, I have been existing in a fog. Maybe the bronchitis, maybe the loopy cough syrup, maybe the winter, maybe depression. (Oh, we will talk about depression another day)
While on the west side of town, I stopped at the apartment complex I used to live in:

My dufus ex and I lived on the second floor. The balcony looked out on the Great Miami river valley (and the interstate). We weren't supposed to have any animals, but I snuck Queen in and kept her out of the windows.

Good ol' 8180 West Mill Street. It was a nice apartment, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, decent rent. But I cringe to think where I would have ended up if the dufus hadn't cheated on me. I don't think I would have met my true potential, and my life would just be sorry. Sorry and going nowhere.

Not a great picture...This is the family funeral home. I have said goodbye here to my Dad, my grandma, my grandpa, my uncle, friends, mothers and fathers of friends. We are here way too much. I didn't get a good photo because I didn't want anyone to see me taking pictures. Too tacky.

This bridge is down the road from the apartment. This bridge collapsed in 1989, and killed two people whose car went down with it. I think about that every time I cross it.

I am going to try and see the bald eagle that has been hanging out at the evil gravel pits. And that is all I am doing tomorrow. Katdoc, the stinker, saw it today.
Sigh...I wanna be happier.
Sorry I am not my bubbly self. Someone needs to slap me and tell me to snap out of it.