Category Archives: loss

by

J is for joy

I am blogging A to Z about artists, particularly women artists and mostly about my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway.

I am nearly done traveling and I am running out of photographs of Helen Ottaway’s work! J could be for jonquil but there are none in this watercolor. But I think it is a joyous and messy bouquet, typical of my mother. She would complain about her garden, how it was riotous chaotic beauty rather than neat rows. But I loved her garden and her bouquets and her paintings, untamed and joyous!

This watercolor is from 1994, the year before my parents moved from Alexandria, Virginia to Chimacum, Washington. My grandmother’s house two doors down from my parent’s house was sold. Someone came to my parents’ house and said, “They are ripping out the garden!” The new owners tore out the beautiful and elaborate garden that my grandmother had paid her granddaughter in law to design and build. Many uncommon plants, torn out and in a pile on the sidewalk. The whole neighborhood of gardeners turned out to take the plants home and replant them. The garden was replaced with bushes and two rows of marigolds down the path. I suspect that that household was shunned by the neighborhood gardeners for years after that and I wondered if my grandmother would haunt them. I do not have marigolds in my garden! My mother shrugged and said, “Well, they own the property.” but she could barely stand to walk by it.

I think the bouquet is from my mother’s own garden, a mix of humble and more exotic flowers. I love the purple and it gives me joy.

ATOZBLOGGINGCHALLENGE2022 #art #Women artists #Helen Burling Ottaway #ATOZCHALLENGE

by

within normal limits

I think doctoring makes one cynical. Or at least messes up the scale of normal.

Maybe there are Marcus Welby docs out there, but I don’t know any. Doctoring messes up one’s scale. A wound is compared to black horrifying gangrene to the knee, pain is compared to screaming delirium tremens or full thickness burns or heroin withdrawal, one in four adults can be diagnosed with a psychiatric disorder at some time in their life…. so then, what is normal?

What is normal for relationships? How many deeply happy marriages do you know? If half end in divorce, what are the odds?

Where is the line in love? Where is the line between loving the other person no matter what and wait, that is domestic violence. Where is the line for abuse? Do people agree on it?

No. They do not. What I think is behavior that is frightening may be normal behavior to my partner. Is it ok to drink until one is drunk? I don’t want to be around it. I saw enough of that shit at work. I deal with addiction daily. If someone wants to get drunk, they can choose to do that. But not around me. And no, I don’t want to date them. And if they are working themselves to death, is that ok? Well, I might be a tad hypersensitive to that, since I nearly managed that myself. So I don’t want to be around that either. That might be viewed as noble self-sacrifice. But at work, I see the caregiver die before the recipient of the care, all too often. Especially in older couples, where neither one wants to let anyone in the house to help….

….but then, some people do hear me. A woman thanked me last year for saying she should quit covering for her husband. She was afraid, but backed off. He is able to do more than she expected and he also is more respectful and kind to her. She thanked me and I got all shy and tongue-tied.

My definition of love is listening. Someone who listens and hears and lets me listen and hear. When each person can say what they are thinking and feeling and wanting and worried about…. because if only one person is speaking, if only one person is determining what the relationship is, it is not a relationship.

by

query

What is interested?

I am very interested in what my partner is doing. I may not be interested in the things he is collecting, but I am still interested in hearing about them, because he is interested. It is fun to listen to people’s expertise and joy and obsessions. Most people know a lot about something, and it’s often surprising to find out the topic or topics they take joy in.

When we first moved to town, our piano developed a key that did not work right. The piano tuner could not fix it. A second piano tuner also couldn’t fix it. We were talking to a neighbor and he said that he had worked with church organs in the past. He was the fix it when something was buzzing or not right. He said sometimes it was a loose board in the church that would vibrate with certain keys. He said that he was very good at fixing these, by wandering around the church and listening.

We said, please, come see our piano.

He came. He listened to the key and walked around the room. He pulled the piano out from the wall. This is a 1905 upright grand, big and heavy. The movers hate it and it breaks dollies. He looked in back and pulled out the culprit: a tuning instrument left inside! We had no idea how many years it had been there. It had rolled during the move and gotten stuck near the strings, affecting that one key! Fixed, instantly. We were delighted!

My partner seems disinterested in most of what I do. I am trying to understand this. I do not understand this. I am experiencing it as disinterest in ME. As if what I do or say is unimportant and only his interests are important. I always have to work on diplomacy, because it doesn’t come naturally to me. I am working on this. It feels asymmetric, unfair, unkind, to have my interest repaid with disinterest. I don’t like it and I am listening to that dislike. I also do not understand it. Though I do have a friend who has six interests and EVERYONE knows what they are, because that is all he talks about. He has a lot of expertise in all six. I am interested in everything, a generalist, and I am interested in what makes people fired up and passionate. I don’t care if it is model trains or knitting. We can learn so much from each other.

by

Don’t try this at home

https://news.ohsu.edu/2022/03/17/little-evidence-on-how-psilocybin-therapy-interacts-with-existing-psychiatric-treatments-review-finds?linkId=156952130

People are busily hopping on the psilocybin bandwagon. DON’T. Why not, you say, it’s NATURAL. Well, the death angel mushroom is also natural but it will kill you. So are red tides, poisonous snakes and sharks.

You wouldn’t take your buddy’s appendix out in your kitchen, would you? Don’t mess with your buddy’s brain either. Especially if there is already a behavioral health diagnosis and/or an addiction already on board. Either or both might get WORSE rather than better. Wait for the research.

And remember: one in four people meets diagnostic criteria for a behavioral health diagnosis at least once in their life. When there is also an addiction, we call it dual diagnosis.

And for pity’s sake, be careful with pot products, ok? It’s a total myth that they are not addictive. Yeah, people have told me for my entire career, over 30 years, “I am not addicted to (pot, heroin, alcohol, gambling, cocaine, meth, crack, whatever)”. ALL ALCOHOLICS say this the first time they are admitted for crashing a car or alcohol poisoning or vomiting blood or liver failure. “Not me. I am stopping today. I am NOT addicted. I do not need to talk to the substance abuse person.” We roll our eyes and send in the substance abuse person anyhow, because HEY, THE PERSON IS TOO ADDICTED AND IN DENIAL.

If you are going to use pot products, use them one or two times a week. Max three. Because a study of teens that paid them (with parental permission, consent, etc) to stop for a month found that almost none of the teens who used pot daily could stop. They relapsed. And they complained of anxiety and insomnia. And I have worked with adults trying to quit: again, anxiety and insomnia. The teens in the study who only used 2-3 days a week COULD stop for the month. The study monitored urine drug screens quite strictly.

And if you say, well, I can’t sleep without it. Um, yeah, that is addiction. I would wean. Reduce amounts and then start with one night a week without it. Good luck. Get help if you need it.

And don’t jump on the psilocybin bandwagon!!! Holy moly, humans are amazing, the ways they think up to hurt themselves and each other. If you want to be in a clinical trial, go find one. Don’t fool with Mother Nature, she can be a killer.

Happy solstice and blessings.

Here is the scientific paper for the science geeks like me:

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00213-022-06083-y

The picture is just a picture. No worries.

by

mer loss

Here is a closeup up the mer creature from the beach. I could not return her to the sea and I fear it would be futile anyhow. I photograph her for posterity.

But the tide goes out and comes back in. She is gone the next day. Was she returned to the sea? I couldn’t move her but the tide can move boulders. I hope that she got home and is not dead and is safe.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: futile. Maybe not.

by

wearing sunglasses in the rain

Trigger warning: this is about dementia. I wrote this over ten years ago.

wearing sunglasses in the rain

I am weeping for you both

you have cared for her
for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health

and she has lost her memory

you told me on the phone
that it’s not that bad

you say it again in the room

I knew before I saw her
that it was bad, very bad, much worse
she is only 60

she becomes agitated when we try to weigh her
old style doctor’s scale
frightens her to try to step up.
gentle caregiver that you have hired
pushes her, until I say stop, stop, stop
her weight does not matter

shuffling gait
she is frightened to be in a new place
I ask her questions gently
she does not want to sit in the chair in the exam room
“No!” she says “No!”
I leave the room until she’s calmer

when I return
I give her choices
“Shall I examine you first with my stethoscope
or shall I talk to your husband?”
I choose for her, the latter
she relaxes, a little
later, I tell her each step before I do it
she is slightly tense when I lay the stethoscope
on her thin shoulders, but she doesn’t fight

she tenses as I ask her husband questions
about the memory loss
ten years now, a steady course
I ask him what he understands about the prognosis
he shifts uncomfortably
and I ask her if she would like to wait in the waiting room
while I talk to him
Firm and clear: “Yes, I would.”

She is not in the room now
he says that she is not too bad
the picture comes slowly in to focus
mild memory loss, is what he thinks

there are three stages of memory loss, I say
mild, the short fibers, where short term memory is affected
we forget what someone just said
moderate, the medium axons
we forget the recipe that we’ve know for 50 years
we forget how to do math
we forget names and how to get to the store
we forget how to operate the car
severe, the long axons
executive function
we do not initiate things
we forget to get dressed
we forget how to speak
we forget our potty training

his eyes grow sadder and sadder

at last, we return to being a baby
we forget everything
at last, we remember the womb
we no longer want to eat

is she forgetting to eat?

he is not ready to answer

as we leave the room
he says that she is not sleeping well
she seems to be awake at night
eyes closed
but her fingers are moving, as in play
he doesn’t speak to her
he needs to sleep and thinks she should too

should he give her a sleeping pill?

maybe she is happy, I say
maybe in bed in the dark
you are there and it is safe
no one is making her get dressed
no one is making her bathe
maybe that is where she wants to be awake
I would not give her a sleeping pill

the dogs are in the room
he says
and the tv is on just a little
maybe she is happy

he is wearing sun glasses
as they cajole and help her in to the van

he is wearing sun glasses
though it is overcast, low clouds and raining

sometimes it is so hard
to say what I see
to try to say the truth

sometimes the truth is not gentle
but sometimes the truth is love

I am weeping for you both

written 2010

by

Avoid death by fentanyl

Some of the West Point Cadets overdosed on March 12, 2022 are still on ventilators. They took what they thought was cocaine. It was laced with fentanyl and they all nearly died.

Not only that, but two of the bystanders who did not use the drug, but did cardiopulmonary resuscitation, CPR, also succumbed. They stopped breathing because they got a heavy dose of fentanyl giving CPR.

Fentanyl is being laced into ANY illegal drug, and being 50 times stronger than morphine, it can kill you by making you stop breathing. Also, fake pills are made. Do not buy pills on the street. And I don’t care if it is your friend. Remember that when someone is really addicted, the addiction is running the show. They need the drug more than your friendship. People will lie, steal and sell drugs. Protect yourself:

Please read the website at

https://www.cdc.gov/stopoverdose/

If you or a family member uses illegal drugs, please get naloxone to have at home. If the shot is given in time, very soon after the person stops breathing, it can save their life.

Here: https://www.cdc.gov/stopoverdose/naloxone/index.html

If you give someone a dose of naloxone CALL AN AMBULANCE. Because it is short acting and the opioid may take back over. The person may need to be on naloxone iv! You must get them to an emergency room as fast as possible.

Our local Health Department was giving out naloxone shot kits in the last few years for free. Our local police carry naloxone. If you are on prescription opioids, you should be offered a prescription for naloxone and your family should be instructed on how to use it.

And teach your children well. I interviewed my patients for years on the age they started smoking. Most of my patients started at age nine. One woman said age seven. We have to start talking to children about drugs and risk and not smoking anything by third grade. That is the horrific reality.

And Bless the punk band The Offspring for reaching out to opioid overuse people and saying, “Get help. You can do it. Please do not die.”

The Opioid diaries live by the Offspring.

And they too are inimitable.

by

Time marching

This is a tintype. “Tintype photography was invented in France in the 1850s by a man named Adolphe-Alexandre Martin. Tintypes saw the rise and fall of the American Civil War, and have persisted through the 20th century and into modern times.” — from here.

I do not know who this young man is, nor the year. I asked my maternal uncle before he died and he denied any knowledge of the person. He was the family historian and archivisit.

However, I have four tintypes in the box of china doll furniture clothes and accessories. My sister and I received a box of jewelry and the tintypes from my Great Aunt Esther Parr. She was my maternal grandmother’s sister and married Russel Parr. Her maiden name was White, a daughter of George White, the Congregationalist Minister who ran Anatolia College in Turkey and then moved to Greece. My sister and I divided the box of jewelry and the tintypes. There were eight so we took turns picking. We used them for dollhouse portraits, not realizing that they were real photographs. I wonder if the tintypes are from the Parr side of the family.

Last month I was missing my father on February 12. I was a month off. His birthday was today, Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway, born in 1938. I miss him now, too.

I will label more photographs, since I appear to have inherited the maternal family paper archive. There are people that I don’t know, though, and my parents are gone. My mother’s siblings have died as well. I am so glad I still have my father’s sisters.

Ask your parents about the pictures and the objects they keep, before they are gone and you lose the story. Time marches on.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: March.

by

Stages of grief playlist

Stages of grief playlist

My sister had breast cancer for 7 years. She said that the five stages of grief missed two. She adds “Acting Out” and “Revenge”. I am planning a series of stages of grief playlists, because we are coming up on one million US citizens dead of Covid-19 and we are at six million world wide and counting. We need help grieving. I have other stuff going on to, so my go to is music.

Denial

Eagle Mountain String Band

Bargaining

Lake Street Dive: I want you back

Anger

Over the Rhine: oh yeah by the way

Acting out

Lily Allen: Smile

Revenge

Lily Allen: Fuck you

Grief

Citizen Cope: Sideways

Acceptance

Over the Rhine: All of My Favorite People