THE BEAD BLUES

I'm in a bead funk.  The bead to the right is my best effort in days and while it's okay it didn't lead anywhere.  Sometimes, when I make beads, one thing leads to another and before I know it I have a bunch of bead ideas rolling around in my head....recently, not so much.

 I made these beads last week and they are on ebay with a bid, but they didn't take me anywhere either.  One of the problems for me as a beadmaker is that there is no dark pink opaque glass in rod form.  Well, there is one, but it has personality problems.  It devits, meaning it gets scummy and loses it's prettiness, and pinkiness.  We beadmakers call it evil devitrifying purple.  It's a fuchsia pink and so lovely in rod form, until you put it in the flame. There are light pinks and transparent pinks, but I always want what I can't have.
My good news is that my sister is coming for a three day visit.  We don't get to see each other very often since she lives in DC and I live in Ky. So I'm putting the bead funk on the back burner for awhile and enjoying my time with my Sissy!

A LITTLE GLITCH

Several people have told me that they have tried to comment on this blog without success.  I think I have fixed it, but not being computer savvy, I am not positive, since part of my fixing is just messin' with the buttons :) If you try to leave a comment and it doesn't work please let me know.  I will then ask for real help.  I actually do have an IT guy, but like to make him work for his money by screwing it up as much as possible!

SARA

This isn't a feel good post, nor is it happy or amusing.  It may be TMI, but when I started this blog I decided I would write about what I was thinking or feeling.  I wrote this last night, slept on it and read it again this morning.  It pretty much sums up my week and my feelings about it, well at least as best I can write about my feelings, which in actuality  is kind of hard to do.

This is my baby girl.  Well, actually she's not a baby any more, at least not in years.  If I asked you to guess her age I don't think anyone would say they thought she was 35, but she is, in years. This picture was taken at her 35th birthday party.  She has the most beautiful smile and she is always, always happy. Sara had a brain hemorrhage at 5 days old.  It was a devastating one. She had continuous seizures that lasted for 5 days.  I hung over her isolette and willed her to live.  She developed hydrocephalus and had a shunt put into her brain at 2 weeks.  Because she was an infant the only pain med they could give her after surgery was tylenol and I watched my child shudder in pain each time someone moved her isolette or her body. It broke me.  Sara also has cerebral palsy, a seizure disorder, and she is developmentally delayed.  This happened to her because not one, not two, but three doctors didn't take the time to look up a drug that one of them prescribed for me during my pregnancy.  If they had they would have known that the drug caused bleeding in the brains of newborns and extra Vitamin K should be given to any babies born to mothers who were taking this drug.  Instead all three doctors told me there were no problems associated with the drug. .... there are no words for my rage.
Usually I can tuck my true feelings away and take what life has given Sara and us, but there is always something that brings those feelings back and I find myself again engulfed in an anger that has no source of comfort.
Sara lives in a local community residence with other adults who are mentally and physically challenged.  About three weeks ago she had a fall in the hallway.  When she was home for the weekend I noticed that she was favoring her right side.  Sara feels pain but she cannot locate it for us.  Her language skills are limited and she is unable to provide information.  I took her to the doctor the next week and we have spent this past week having multiple MRI's and CT scans of Sara's whole body.  I would say Sara has spent at least 6 hours on the table listening to the MRI machine thump away.  SIX hours!!  She doesn't understand why she's there.  For a time there was a concern about her shunt, but that was resolved by the radiologist.  Today (Friday) it was determined that Sara has a large tear in her right calf muscle and a small one in her left calf.  Considering all of the other things it could have been this news was a relief.  However it just kills me to know that she has been in pain for over two weeks and no one could help her....and I am once again overwhelmed by a horrible, unrelenting, consuming rage.  I wish I could say that I forgive them, the irresponsible docs, but I don't, and I never will.  Not one of them ever apologized to us.  Yes, there was an out of court settlement, which was a pittance by today's standards, but money means nothing to me. It will not bring my daughter back and I will always grieve for the Sara that should have been. Please don't misunderstand me.  Sara is much loved just the way she is.  My anger is not for me, it's for her.  She can't communicate her wants or needs, her pain.  She will never go to college, get married, have babies of her own.  Three well educated men did not follow medical protocol and my daughter pays the price. There is no way to make peace with that, and yet 35 years later, I am still trying.

LOOKING FOR MY SOCKS

One of my most dreaded days of the year arrived last week.  It's that first day you get up and know that this is not a toeless shoe day.  First of all it was raining, and added to that it was somewhere around 58 degrees  The week before it had been above 100 for several days in a row, and then bingo, out of nowhere, socks were needed.  I have a sock drawer, and at the end of winter I always remind myself that my sock drawer needs to be replenished, because I am hard on socks.  In colder weather they never leave my feet.  However, warm weather seduces my feet into going naked and the sock drawer is soon forgotten, until that first day that comes with a chill on it's breath.  So that specific morning I spent 20 min looking for matching socks.  Finally I found my favorite pair of Smart Sox.  They are wool, but don't feel like it and they are very very comfy.  I pulled them on my feet only to notice a hole in the heel of one of the socks! ACK!  A hole, in my favorite, and so far only pair of matching socks.  I remembered then my grandmother, sitting in her chair after dinner, darning my grandfathers socks. I knew that I was now the owner of that darning tool, not that I was going to use it, but it was the first time in a long time that I remembered my grandmother performing this task.

I eventually found two socks that were similar and wore them with the promise to myself that I would get some new socks immediately.  Of course the weather got warm again and sandals have become my footwear of choice.  The weather report calls for rain beginning tomorrow along with colder weather.  My sock drawer remains empty except for one or two socks with frayed elastic at the top and that one pair with the hole in the heel.  Maybe I should look for that darner after all :)

TEN YEARS AGO

It's difficult to write about anything this week and so this post is kind of heavy.  The news coverage of 9-11 takes me right back to it all, just like it was yesterday.  The most significant event in my life before 9-11 was the assassination of John   Kennedy.  I had just graduated from high school and I was in my first year of nurse's training.  I was stunned.  I was young and naive and had lived a fairly sheltered life.  I knew my history and knew that presidents in the past has been murdered, but of course I never thought something like that would happen in my lifetime. I remember watching our black and white television for days, thinking if I watched it enough, I would believe it happened.  Over time it became a reality, but like everyone else of my generation I can tell you right where I was when I first heard the news report and I can still hear Walter Cronkite's trembling voice as he announced the president's death.  After that nothing much surprised me, and there were horrible,terrible things that happened over the years, but in my mind's eye the death of JFK was the most powerful...until 9-11.
Again, I know just where I was.  My first thought was to account for my grown children who both traveled as part of their jobs.  Once I knew they were safe I don't think my eyes left the TV for more than several minutes for the first 24 hours.  When the first tower fell I remember repeating to myself "There are people in there, there are people in there."
My oldest granddaughter's school had a commemoration ceremony for those who lost their lives on 9-11.  All the students wore red, white and blue and carried flags. Kate is only 5 and I know she really doesn't understand what all of this is about yet, but I hope when she is 10 and 15 her school is still doing this.  To me our children's children can no longer grow up naive and unaware.  Those days of innocence are gone. If we are going to protect ourselves and our country each and every one of us, young and old, must learn from our past and be prepared for our future.  My personal hope is that we all become more aware of our surroundings, more alert to unusual happenings, more united in our efforts to keep our country and it's people safe. I want 9-11 to be more than just a day of remembrance I want it to be a day of commitment.

NEW BEAD

I've been in a bead funk for a week or so.  It hasn't helped that my air conditioning went out in my studio :(  Fortunately the cool weather allowed me to make beads yesterday and this bead came out of the kiln this morning.  It's one of those beads that needs to be hung instead of worn though.  The colors show up better when there is light coming through it.  I like to hang beads at my windows on fishing line.  I have glass all over the house , from old to new, but beads will always be my favorite.  Oh, this bead is on Ebay if anyone is interested :)

GRANDCHILDREN

This is my two year old granddaughter, Cassidy.  She's a character and we never know what she's going to say.  She's began talking very early,and incessantly just like her dad did, and she has a mind of her own.  Her dad is my son and he was one of those kids who was.....let's just say challenging to raise.  Never in serious trouble, but always pushing the limits. When he was growing up I used to say, someday I hope you have a child just like you.....I think maybe he did!  The thing is while Cass didn't fall far from the apple tree, neither did her dad, because I was "that kid" growing up, always testing, always pushing.  Now I watch my son parent and he's everything I hoped he would be. Part of me smiles at what he has ahead, raising a strong willed daughter, but another part knows how hard it is on a parent's heart. All I can say is it sure is easier being on the grandparent side  and just watching all of this unfold.