Mire

Sometimes one can put their emotions on the back burner. A fire starts and the surprise, shock and all related emotions wait until everyone is safe and then they run freely. I've always been able to do this. This has helped me excel in emergency situations. I fold later.

As I have gotten older, I have learned to do this with other things. My 9-year relationship takes a dive and I have homework to do. My mother diagnosed with Alzheimer's and I cry, then back to work. My son in trouble with the law, final papers... Brian's parents selling their home to possibly move full-time to Arizona...research proposal. Ben enlists in the Navy, more homework.

Life is full of ups and downs. Throughout all, chop wood, carry water. I see it as surfing on top of the waves.

Yesterday, I was reading for one of my classes and drip. Okay, that was odd. Drip, drip... Like the beginning of a storm, the tears just fell faster and faster. There was no cognitive emotional front to this. No connected thought that brought it on. I was confused and actually kind of laughing about it. Finding it difficult to read, I got up and threw a load of laundry in. Still dripping. I got in the shower and finally it stopped.

Today I was watching a tv show that reminded me of Ben's joining the service and then it occurred to me that I still have all this stuff that I compartmentalized to fully address later. I think the stopper is coming loose from the pressure. My research proposal is not done, I still have a paper due in another class and I'm leaving for the summer institute tomorrow. This is not a good time. But, is it ever?

Crawling out of my skin

My demons within are rearing. I have tried to prepare myself for this, but there is only so much I can do. Those who have lived with me know this about me... This horrid creature is called OCD. When I went home to help with Jessica's tonsillectomy, I couldn't stand the disorder. I couldn't wait to get back home to the order. Now I am living in this mess of moving.

My therapist used to leave the rice from play therapy on the floor for my session. I could handle it for an hour. This is more than an hour. The anxiety of living this for weeks on end is going to be my undoing. My anxiety level is high. I can't wait until Thursday but until then, the misery is not leaving me. There is no way to escape it. I know I can leave the house, but have to come back to it.

When I moved here, I had everything unpacked and put away in a short amount of time. I think, possibly one or two days. I definitely found a way to have most of the house in order at all times. I couldn't handle living with boxes all over the place. Now there are boxes and boxes and boxes. I can't move around. I can't go anywhere where everything is in its place where it should be for me to inhale and exhale properly. I keep catching myself holding my breath, tensing my muscles, and being very edgy.

My friend Kim is coming this evening. This is a relief. She and I can laugh about it and drink some wine and somehow I hope things will be better. Until then, I have to try to work some semblance of a life around the boxes and the monster.

and i cannot find the charger for my camera battery!

S. O. S.

Education

I really wish that we could educate ourselves according to the direction of our curiosities.

Blue-Flashing-Light-Special at the Clinic

Since the h1n1 scare is over, we were told that we once again require valid dr. excuses for our absences due to illness. I left class Tuesday, all hot and sweaty and feeling ill. Wednesday I missed my internship and Thursday woke in a feverish haze. The 3/4 pot of coffee had no impact on my eyelids staying open. I felt drugged and rereading the assignment due for class that day had still not left an imprint on my brain. Knowing the new policy, I called Student Health Services. They wanted me to come in.

When I got there, they took my temp, checked my blood pressure and all that fun stuff. Noticing that I was weak, shaky and hazy, they gave me some juice to try to help. They wanted blood work, so I assumed I looked too sick to move on to the next patient. I have had tons of blood work taken in the past 10 years or so. I am no newbie to that and usually have no problem remaining vertical throughout the process. Today was an exception. She took the blood, brought it over to the counter, put my information on the computer and was continuing with her stuff. Perhaps 3 minutes after the retrieval of my blood, things started to look fuzzy. I asked her if I could go sit in the waiting room but she said no. I think I would have been fine. Needless to say, I passed out. When the fuzz dissipated, a cute young fireman paramedic was trying to put an oxygen mask on me, shortly thereafter, a couple of ambulance drivers showed up and then I noticed a police officer standing there.

After I regained my composure, I declined the ambulance ride. They wanted me to go to the hospital for further tests, but would not allow me to do so on my own. One of the clinic nurses and I rode in the police car to the hospital where I eventually checked out fine with a diagnosis of an upper respiratory viral infection (a cold?) complicated with a fainting episode.

They said I should be over the viral infection within the next week. The embarrassment of a 911 response to my passing out could take a while longer to recover from.

The Day from Hell

I awoke reluctantly yesterday. It was my first day back at my internship since Christmas break. The coffee just couldn't affect me fast enough. Obviously, because silly issues like do I wear my glasses or my contacts were just too complex for me. I decided that one when my glasses fell to the floor as I was stepping in that very spot. The lenses were intact, but the fine cord that held them to the frame was broken. Contacts apparently.

I didn't know when my first client would be, so I parked far away in the garage - in case I had to leave and return. If I returned, the chances would be better if I was parked far away that I could return to my spot and not relinquish an entire day's worth of coin to the hungry meter and an opportunist.

The day was okay. One client was beyond frustration and I sensed that she like the daughter we were trying to help her parent had given up. She seemed to shut down after a comment made by my co-therapist. "That would never work," was all she had to say about the parenting video we watched. I wished I could pull her out of her frustration and shake her, but she is worn by her oppositional child and is showing signs of negativity and opposition to anything we could throw out of our bag of tricks. This mom needs a break. Unfortunately, the situation is that her daughter will never be able to see her father again. The mother is on her own. His side of the family has disowned them, not being able to accept what the father did to force it. Guilt? Maybe. They knew. But this mom has no help. She shoulders the guilt of the child's problems and all the responsibility to raise her.

When I returned to the office, I got caught up on on my cases, reading notes and talking to co-therapists. I entered notes on the last two cases I saw and did further research on issues arising in one of the cases I share with my supervisor. The mother of two children we are working with is trying to get custody of her grandchildren. Her daughter is homeless and had the children taken away. The children were staying with their great-aunt. Her sister (our client) called IIU and reported that it was not a good home for the children. That is being investigated as well. Relative foster care is the preferred situation for the county in removing children from their parents. Not only is it less traumatizing on the children but if you follow the money (as in all government run programs) you will see it is cheaper than regular foster care. I am not sure how they will handle this, because our client has her own issues that don't make her a shining candidate. Does the county find a good home for the children in regular foster care? or someplace with family that is the lessor of two evils? What indeed is best for the children? We will never know.

I was showing my supervisor the information that I found on the case and looked up and realized that I was running late. I had 10 minutes to run through my mouse maze and drive to the next client. In city hall, I had just finished my long underground incline run and had made it to the elevators. The bell dinged and both doors were open. I took the one that was indicated to be going down. I missed the small sign indicating why I might not want to take that elevator and proceeded to trip over the bottom of the elevator that was 4 or 5 inches above floor level. Apparently the elevator was out of order. Usually when this is the case, they have the bold black and yellow "do not cross" tape across the elevator. My knees smacked hard on the bottom of the elevator and I cried, "Ouch!" instead of the profanity on the tip of my tongue. It just so happened on that day there were other people around. Two men who ran to the other elevator and held it for me, but they had already made sure that they pressed "4" before I got in. I was going to "G". Nice. I got to ride up to the 4th floor with them. Oh, by the way guys, I'm fine thanks for asking - NOT!

I wanted to call my boss and cancel so I could just go home and crawl in bed. I hit hard and could feel the knees swelling already. I was stiff. I was sore in all the once-in-awhile ache places as well. Back came the stiff neck, the lower back, the rotator cuff... I had really jarred myself. Years ago in the parking lot at HTI, I slipped on ice and fell hard onto my knees. I had to go into the dr. that time and found that I had water on the knee - Yep, the bucket in the OPERATION game. Ever since then, I haven't been able to walk on hands and knees or kneel on hard surfaces. Not that I do that alot, but you know...

I got to the client's house and my boss was already at the door. Usually I beat her there. When I got there, the door was open and apparently our client was on her way out. Cancellation, I hoped? Nope. We were to wait for her as she drove her son to his thing. great. So, as we sat there with the client, my knees continued to swell. When I stood, I could hardly bend them.

The night was not over yet. I still had to get my glasses fixed (I am blind without them), go to the grocery store, stop at the bank, and pick up prescriptions. Needless to say, none of these simple activities could be all that simple. I stood and waited at each place. After the treatment from the guys at the elevator, I wasn't feeling particularly charitable toward my fellow human being. I have to be true to myself, though, and helped the checker lift the microwave in the cart ahead of me so she could scan the bar code and pick up the grapefruit that rolled beyond the produce guys reach. Damn.

Parking Headaches

If you read my previous post, you read about the maze that I go through to get from the parking garage to the office. I guess I shouldn't complain. I do not envy those who pay up to $50/month for guaranteed parking spots elsewhere around the building. Although those that get to park inside the garage adjoining the building have it made. They have been with the county for 30 years or more. Thankfully, when my coworkers are on vacation, they notify me so I may park in their spots. How nice!

There are some that park on the hill. Sidewalks and streets in the winter have been less than desirable for walking. One should bring skates, sled or toboggan to get the most out of the experience. I think they put chains on their shoes to get up the hills. They are San Francisco steep. Only San Francisco doesn't have ice and snow.

UMD has a rather profitable enterprise for their parking system. They sell maroon parking passes for $140 a semester. Get there quick, they say, so you can get one. It has been revealed that they sell more maroon passes than they have parking spaces for. This leaves a mess with the parking situation there as there is no guarantee that you will find a maroon parking spot. You may still have to pay to park in the pay lot. It is $2 per entry to get a spot there. However, often the lot is full. One of my classmates waited 2 hours for a parking spot. They also have parking meters. They are very predatorial with their ticketing practices. You can bet that they you will have a ticket if you are 5 minutes over.

Despite their parking nightmare, UMD continues to build new buildings in their current parking lots. It appears they have no room to expand outside their current boundaries, so they expand within their boundaries. Just outside the campus are parking spots that are available only to residents. None of this new construction includes a parking garage. Apparently they believe it would be an eye-sore. I don't think they have looked at their current buildings if they came to that conclusion.

After my umpteenth experience with parking perils at UMD, I vented to the class that was not yet in session about the parking situation. It is a common gripe. The teacher responded that UMD wants people to take the city bus. (Must be another business venture of theirs.) I responded that I would be happy to if they travel to Two Harbors to pick me up - they don't - and don't make allowances for commuter or ancient students, either. Finally we decided to hold class off campus. The teacher was fine with it and we were ecstatic with it, so we did it! Now it is so much less stressful! Wow! The things you have to do to reduce stress!

The Maze

My first day interning at St. Louis County Department of Health and Human Services possessed the usual discomfort one experiences at a new place, yet with some that I had never experienced before. I couldn't find any of the free parking spots that I was told about. These spots are atop a steep hill that the Government Services Building sits midway on. They were all taken. So, I checked out the parking garage I was also told about. I found a spot, inserted a handful of quarters and wondered how I would get from the garage - point A - to the Government Services Building - point B.

I knew I could see where I was going from the outside but wasn't too sure about how to get there from the inside. Going in and out of buildings just didn't seem right. Walking outside the courthouse, I was told to stop. I had to wait for a chain of prisoners to go by and get safely in the building with their guards and the vehicle to leave before I could pass. Construction left me walking outside of barricades onto busy streets. Pray then run! Pray then run! Finally I got to the right building. l asked my coworkers about this and found that there is indeed a system to doing this. Now I have it down pat! In fact I have even tweaked it so it is more efficient.

Here is the routine:
Keep walking through each instruction - except the elevators, of course.
Park on level 4 of the garage.
Walk to the doorway of the garage.
Open door 1
Enter small enclosure.
Open door 2
Walk across the skywalk to the courthouse.
Open door and turn left immediately.
Press the down button on the elevator.
Enter the elevator and press M.
Enter the main floor cafeteria/break room that was once a coffee shop.
Proceed across cafeteria to door.
Open door 1 (Caution, door swings both ways)
Open door 2 (Tunnel to City Hall)
Breathe in aroma of mold.
Open door 3 (glass door says that it will be locked at 5:15)
Go through cement floor tunnel that sometimes appears to have vomit on it. Painted in a delightful institutional gray.
Turn right.
Turn left.
Pass door with boxes of architectural drawings of city.
Pass police dressing room, evidence room...
Pass through doorway where cement ends and marble floor begins.
Walk to the middle of the room take a left at the elevators and push up button.
Upon entering the elevator, press 1
When exiting the elevator, take a right.
Take another right when you reach the verigated spider plants in the oversized planters.
Walk through the atrium to the skywalk.
Open door and proceed through skywalk.
Open door at the end of skywalk.
Enter hallway of govt services building.
Walk down ramping tiled floor to main floor.
Turn right, walk 2/3 of the way down to the elevators...etc.

On a good day with the timing just right on the elevators, I can make it in 10 minutes.

I often pass the same people going the other way and wonder if we should trade parking spots.

A Hole in My Heart

I have a load of homework to do, but I feel like I have to get this off my chest because my heart is hurting.

After Jess was sent to Custer, Brian and I became proactive in preventive measures for her return. One of the actions we took was enrolling in a parenting class that is often required by DSS when parents would like their children in custody, returned to them. It was one of the best classes I have ever taken. Brian, too. It is Common Sense Parenting. The program is based on and the instructors are trained by Boy's Town. I would recommend it to all parents regardless if they are having parenting problems or not. It is $45 and Brian and I each got a copy of the book, Common Sense Parenting.

In one of the classes, we were given a sheet that showed us behaviors of children when raised in homes that are too strict, moderate, and too lenient. On that sheet of paper, I saw three children. Nick, Ben and Jess - in that order. We were never shown what to do once you already f@#$ed up and your kid is an adult.

I think of my children every day. But when I think of Nick, my heart drops. Raising Nick was tumultuous to say the least. He was so very angry from 5th grade on. I can think back to everything - the divorce, Brian and Jess coming into the family, holding him when he was a baby...the list goes on. At what point did I lose him?

I tried so hard with him. We went to three different counselors trying to find one that could help us. This kid is intelligent, but for some reason, he gave up on grades and turned instead to friends that were so unlike him, with the exception of their need to be different from the mainstream.

Graduation was a heartbreak. He didn't pass the classes needed in time to graduate. His diploma was empty at graduation and I was sad. It was too late to cancel, but I didn't want to throw him a reception. I didn't feel at all celebratory and he just kept jabbing me. One week or less before graduation he shaved his head. After graduation he had to attend summer classes to get the signed diploma. He was coming home at odd hours and gone a lot. He was fired from his job at Walgreens and I don't know what to believe happened there or at the next job. It was never Nick's fault. Nothing ever was. I was getting too stressed out about his behavior. At one point, I talked to Mike and told him that Nick could move in with him. Mike's agreement to that was done in such a way that Mike seemed to be laughing at me, implying that he wouldn't have any problems with Nick at all. That changed in about two weeks, when Nick began stopping over more and complaining about his dad - in the same way he complained about me. Mike also began admitting that Nick was a problem for him as well. He had found booze in Nick's car and we found out that Nick looking older than 18, was furnishing alcohol for high school kids.

Soon, Nick came forward and told me (because Mike said he would tell me if Nick didn't) that he got his first DUI. His dad bailed him out. Nick got an attorney and had the charge reduced to reckless driving. Nick didn't pay his fine, however, and soon warrants were issued for his arrest...

I fell into the trap this last July when Nick was picked up for another outstanding warrant for a traffic ticket. It was a Sunday. I got a call from Nick and he was in jail. He needed to be bailed out so he wouldn't lose his job for being in jail. He promised that he would pay me back. Of course, he paid part of it and I haven't seen him since.

I hurt. Nick didn't stop by to say good-bye before I moved away. I haven't spoken with him since the beginning of August. There is a hole in my heart and a yearning to reach out... I guess when I made the decision to move I thought that it might just help Nick. I know that I have been villified since he was in high school, so I thought if I left, it might help heal that wound that he seems to have where I am concerned. I was (and am) hoping that he will no longer have to rebel against someone who isn't in the same town. There is no longer a reason to feel guilty for not seeing me because I am too far away. I really hope that Nick will turn around. I worry about him. Maybe I am giving it too much thought. Regardless, I am his mother, full of guilt, worry, hope, grief...

Weather Or Not It Is Better in Two Harbors

Back in Sioux Falls, when I mentioned that I was moving to Two Harbors, people would tell me how cold it is here. They would tell me how awful the winters were. So, I decided to do a bit of research using historical averages. Okay you South Dakotans, here it is:

Two Harbors average January high temp is 22.5 as opposed to Sioux Falls' 25.2 degrees. However, The average January low temp is 5 degrees in Two Harbors and 2.9 in Sioux Falls. July temps in Sioux Falls average a high of 85.6 and a low of 60.3. In Two Harbors the July average high is 73.6 and low is 53.4.

I like the cool weather. I will gladly take a summer here over one in Sioux Falls any day. I just cannot tolerate the heat more than I cannot tolerate the cold.

My commute

I keep getting asked by people how the commute is from Two Harbors to UMD. It is horrid. Right after Two Harbors city limits I run into expressway. An expressway that is lined with trees on either side. There is no construction. On my left is Lake Superior, visible from the expressway beyond the forest. After this hideous view, the expressway ends and I am forced to drive on London Road. London Road is notorious for its rough characters of old. Robber Barron's, they were called. The financial gangsters of yesteryear. Such historic mansions exemplify the gains of those who took the chance to gamble on such new fangled things as railroads and coal and iron ore. Another I believe gambled on chickens. I believe it is Tyson. The gang symbols used on the great fence surrounding that gang turf are chickens. Mansion after mansion I pass until I hit 21st street. This is a lower class neighborhood that is home to smaller but also exquisite manses. Only through this route do I run into road construction. On Woodlawn avenue, I am forced to stop at stop signs, allowing me to have further inspection of the architecture of each abode.

So, while the rest of you are complaining about your commutes, think of poor me up here suffering up here with such hideous surroundings.