My Final Blog November 24, 2009

Well, after reading my writing autobiography, I have mixed feelings about my abilities as a writer.  I definitely have become more proficient on the computer and in using the library, which I am very happy about. These skills will enable me to proceed through my other classes with a better opportunity for success. Also, it has been very helpful to learn the MLA format, as I’m sure other classes will require papers using this syle.  I also feel more confident as an older student, and have enjoyed getting to know everyone in class.  I guess what it boils down to is despite our ages, we are all students and so we share a similar journey.  I have felt some frustration over the mechanical errors that I make in my papers, since I do put a lot of effort into them. I feel that I have learned (or re-learned) a lot about sentence structure which will be important throughout life.  I still love to write, especially when it involves my feelings or my passions, and will continue to keep a journal.  Thank-you to Dr. Shattuck, Wesley, and all the amazing people in class who have inspired me with their stories, passions, and talents.  Wishing each of you the best.

 

November 20th Blog November 20, 2009

I didn’t see anything posted about our blog topic, so Meaghan suggested that we write about Thanksgiving.  I love Thanksgiving for many reasons. I love to cook and bake, so I break out all my favorite recipes, stock up on butter, flour, sugar, etc., and plan out the menu weeks before the big day. I enjoy spending the day with my family, and bumping elbows with them in the crowded kitchen.  We always spend the day at my parents farm, and keep the fireplace burning all day.  Each year we bring holiday CDs and play them throughout the day.  Before the meal we all have the opportunity to say what we are thankful for, and I always tell the story of Kishiyama, who was the 6 year old daughter of one of my clients when I worked for the Health and Human Services Agency. It was a few days before Thanksgiving when I was blessed with meeting Kishiyama, and I will never forget her. I asked her what she was thankful for that Thanksgiving and she said with great enthusiasm that she had 2 things to be thankful for. Her church was serving a “real turkey dinner” on Thanksgiving and she could not wait to taste turkey for the first time. She also was thankful for her teacher who would come early to school every morning to give her juice and a muffin and brush her hair before the other students arrived.  She had a beautiful smile on her face as she explained that sleeping outside under the bushes always got grass and leaves in her hair. She was truly thankful for her church, food, and combed hair- things most of us take for granted. The first Thanksgiving that I shared this story left all of us with tears in our eyes, and every year one of the kids or grandkids wants to hear it again. Kishiyama was an example to me of how to thank God every day for all his blessings, and to look for these blessings even when times are tough.  So this Thanksgiving, let’s celebrate our blessings, forget about exams and papers, eat too much, and laugh a lot. Gobble, gobble!

Paper #2 & #3 Thesis Statements November 13, 2009

Paper #2:  I don’t think I had a clear thesis in the original paper, because it was spread out over 2 or 3 sentences.  Here is the thesis I want to use in my revision:

Literary censorship takes away our freedom to choose and should not be tolerated in the public library or university settings.

Paper #3: I’ve decided not to revise this thesis, but I will make revisions in my paper to support it better.

Through tragedy, I would be forced to reevaluate my priorities, which had been pushed aside in my quest for success.

My favorite season November 12, 2009

I absolutely love the fall in Alabama! Fall has always been my favorite season, but even more so since I moved here from California.  I love the crisp, cool mornings and evenings, especailly after a long, hot summer.  I love the breeze and the falling, dancing leaves that decorate the ground.  The shades of orange, yellow, and red in the trees take my breath away, and I carry my camera everywhere to try and capture fall’s beauty before it leaves. I also love fall because I know the holidays are approaching and I will soon get to see my children and grandchildren.  I think the beauty of fall is a special gift from God, and I try to enjoy it as much as possible.  Take a break from your papers, exams, reaadings, and homework this weekend and go for a walk, enjoying the beauty of this amazing season.

Just another day November 6, 2009

I wish I had an amazing, scary, or funny story to tell about my Halloween, but I don’t. It was just another day for me. I spent the weekend at my parent’s farm in Kelso. Tenn. I did some cooking and baking for my parents, cleaned the house, groomed the horses, scooped the stalls (always fun), and took some relaxing walks. I enjoyed taking pictures of the fall colors, and I took pictures of birds I’d never seen before. I guess they were passing through on their migration south. My parents live in a very rural area and never get trick-or-treaters   so it was just an average day and a quiet night. Hope the rest of you had the opportunity to mak some memories. I’m not feeling well this morning, so I won’t be in class, but I hop you all have a great weekend!

I Think So! October 28, 2009

I used to think ghost talk was silly until I got a job working over an old indian burial ground.  Back in 1979, after I got my AA Degree in Psychology, I took a job at Casa De Amparo which is a shelter for abused and neglected children.  The shelter was located in back of the Mission San Luis Rey, which was built in 1798. Indian burial sites surrounded the Mission, and were said to be under it as well.  I worked in the adolescent unit which housed up to 16 teenagers.  One side of the hall was for the girls, the other side for the boys.  The bedroom next to the main office/meeting room was a boys room which we usually left empty unless absolutely necessary. The reason? It was haunted. Now my initial reaction to this statement was laughter and rolling my eyes, but I soon learned there was reason for this rumor to be spread. There was a rocking chair in the room, as there was in every room, and that rocking chair had a habit of rocking in the middle of the night when no one was in it.  The first time I went into the vacant room to investigate the rocking noise at midnight, I was sure that the kids or other staff were trying to “punk” me. As I entered the room, I saw the chair rock a few times, and then stop. Eventually I left the room aftered convincing myself it was either a prank or I was just overtired, but soon after the rocking started again. After a few nights of working the night shift, I too was convinced that there had to be a spirit in that room. On more than one occasion one of the tough boys assigned to sleep in that room was reduced to tears because he claimed to see a long-gray-haired woman in that rocking chair. I don’t tell this story often because most people doubt my sanity, but I worked there for a few years, and I can tell you without hesitation, I do now believe in ghosts.

Super Blog October 21, 2009

I must say that this was a tough one for me.  I was going to make up my own superhero so that I would have every superpower that I wanted, but I changed my mind and decided to go with an established one.  I wanted no one else to know of my powers , and I definitely wanted to avoid having to wear any kind of tights, so I decided I’d like to be Underdog!  I would love to be able to fly back and forth to California without the cost of airfare, or having to spend 3 days in the car.  I also could curl up and nap without feeling guilty (since dogs do it a lot) and wouldn’t have the expense of clothes or shoes, rent, car insurance, gas, etc.  I would still be avaiable to save cats from trees, kids from bullies, or puppies from sewers.  What a life.

Paper 3 Final October 18, 2009

Lessons Learned
That Monday was a typically chaotic day. I got off work late, which meant dinner would be on the table late. The kids needed help planning their Halloween costumes, and needed their homework checked. Tommy called to say hi, but I was in a rush to get off the phone. He said he’d stop by later to have dinner with us before he went to visit Ashley in San Diego. Tommy was working long hours at his new job, but he loved it. He felt like it was the job he was meant to do. I was hoping Tommy wouldn’t come by that night, because I had too much to do. He was my son and I loved him, but my work was important to me, and I had to finish the training program for the new social workers. My mind was on overdrive as I made a mental list of everything I needed to do that evening. After dinner, I made a plate for Tommy and set it aside, made some phone calls, cleaned the kitchen, looked at everyone’s homework, wrote out the bills, prepared my training material for the next day, and fell asleep on the couch. My internal alarm clock woke me up a few minutes before 5, and I dragged myself off the couch feeling stiff and grumpy. Tommy’s plate still sat on the counter, so I checked my cell phone for messages. It was unusual for him not to call if his plans changed, but I didn’t have time to think twice about it.
A few hours later, I was training a class of new social workers. I felt on top of the world as I stood in front of the class, and I was proud of the program I had put together. I had spent nearly 20 years working for the County of San Diego, and working my way up the bureaucratic ladder. I had been told countless times that I would never be successful, and would probably end up on welfare. My father always had a way of putting me down that would make me work even harder to prove him wrong. When I got the county job, I dropped out of college, and I was a single parent. My children and I had always lived in poverty, and I saw this job as the one that would lead us to a better life. I wanted to be financially stable enough to buy my kids the things they wanted, to live in a better neighborhood, and to fit in with the other PTA moms sporting their manicured nails, and salon styled hair. Achieving these goals became my priority, and I worked hard to get there. The training program I had developed, and was implementing today, was the latest of my successes. Winning another Director’s Award would make all my sacrifices worth it. What I did not know was that later that day my life would be changed forever. Through tragedy I would be forced to reevaluate my priorities, which had been pushed aside in my quest for success.
On the morning break I called Tommy. He didn’t answer, so I sent a text message, and figured he was busy at work. When we broke for lunch I tried to call Tommy again, but still no answer. I called his work phone and Brad answered. I made small talk, embarrassed about checking up on Tommy, but Brad said Tommy did not show up for work, and had not called. In that instant I knew something was wrong. I felt dizzy and nauseous as I tried to remember Ashley’s phone number. I called my daughter and told her Tommy was missing, and her immediate response was that I was probably overreacting. She said she’d call Ashley and I sat frozen waiting for her to call back. I knew something was wrong. When Christy called back, my fears became worse as I heard Tommy had never made it to Ashley’s house. I told the receptionist at training that I had to leave, and I felt numb as I drove back to Oceanside. When I got home I started making phone calls to the highway patrol, police department, hospital, Ashley, and Christy. I have trouble describing the terror I felt, not knowing where Tommy was, and if he was ok. As I looked through the phone book, I remembered that there was a trauma hospital in La Jolla, so I looked up the number. Relief quickly returned to terror as the operator said they had a “Thomas Wright” in the critical care unit. I was transferred to a nurse, then a social worker, and will never forget her words. “Do you have someone who can drive you to the hospital? Your son has been critically injured in a car accident.” The room started spinning as I told her I was on my way. I called my daughter and ran to the car.
I don’t remember driving to the hospital, but I did. When I got there, they took me into a room with a social worker who explained that Tommy was brought in the previous night. He went off the road and hit a tree head-on. The accident was only half a mile from my house. He was on his way to my house to eat dinner when the accident happened. The neurosurgeon came in and the words made no sense; head trauma; diffuse axonal injury; fractured skull; C-1 through C-3 vertebrae broken, brain damage; collapsed lungs; crushed foot; facial reconstruction. I asked the only question that mattered to me at that moment. Was Tommy going to make it? I was told that Tommy was on life support, and could not survive without it. Ninety-eight percent of patients with this type of brain injury would never come off of life support, or remain comatose. I grabbed the trash can in the small, white, sterile room and vomited. I don’t remember leaving that room, but I do remember seeing Tommy for the first time. I didn’t recognize him. He was swollen and still. The only sounds came from the machines keeping him alive. There were tubes and wires everywhere. I had never felt so lost and alone. My daughter and Ashley came in, but couldn’t stay. They were devastated, and were having trouble dealing with how Tommy looked. I did not leave the hospital for three days, and during these three days I did not sleep or eat. The turning point came on Friday morning.
I was in a fog when the social worker came to get me. I again was brought into a small room and there were three doctors waiting for me. They said that it was time for the family to discuss Tommy’s wishes about life support and quality of life. It was the time to think about taking him off of life support. I don’t know if I was in shock, or just sleep deprived, but I could not speak. They called Christy (my daughter) and she joined us in the room. She asked some questions while I sat there silently. She told them that we would talk about it and let them know later, and then she drove me home. I cried, and slept, talked to the foster kids about what had happened, and called work to tell them I was taking some time off. I packed a bag and went back to the hospital. Christy and I stood in the parking lot as over a hundred of our family and friends gathered to show their support. I went to the chapel and prayed, and for the first time since the accident, I did not feel alone. My relationship with God was one of the many relationships I had let go in my quest to climb the ladder of success. It was in that moment, as I sat in the small chapel, that I saw my priorities fall into place. I felt God’s presence as I felt my strength renewed, and I vowed to never again lose sight of what mattered most to me: God and my family. Christy and I went to the social worker to let her know that we decided to wait six months before considering taking Tommy off of life support. I sat by Tommy’s bedside day in and day out, reading to him, talking to him, and praying. It had been nearly six months when Tommy showed signs of coming out of the coma. I told the nurses that Tommy was making signs with his hands, but they said it was just involuntary muscle movements. Tommy had taken sing language in college, but I didn’t know any. Christy and I bought a sign language book, and we discovered that the miracle no one thought was possible was happening.
Over the next several months, miracles happened every day. Doctor after doctor came to see Tommy as he started his slow recovery, and each of them said the same thing; “your son’s recovery is truly a miracle.” Tommy was transferred to Scripps Encinitas rehab facility where he learned to talk, eat, and eventually walk. When things got hard for Tommy, we talked about how God had given him a second chance, and he vowed to not let it go to waste. The day Tommy was released from the rehab facility was exactly fourteen months after his accident. He was released on Christmas day, 2006. I retired from my job without any regrets because it allowed me to stand by Tommy throughout his recovery. Suddenly I realized that the job and career that I thought was so important, that made me hope my son would not come by for dinner that night, meant very little compared to the love of my family and my faith in God. In May 2008, Tommy moved into his own apartment. He works full time and supports himself. He cannot drive, but is very independent and navigates the public transportation system in North San Diego County like pro. He helped me make the decision to move to Alabama, at least temporarily, because my Mom has cancer and he knew that she needed me to stand by her through her battle to recover, the same way I had stood by him. Some people think that Tommy’s accident was a terrible tragedy, but in reality the positive impacts surpass the negative. I am thankful every day for his second chance at life, and my second chance to live my life with my priorities in place. My children and foster children are all adults now and we share a special bond because of the lessons we learned from Tommy’s accident. I no longer worry about my nails, hair, clothes, or making it to the top at work, but I walk with God, and thank him every day for my relationships with the people I love.

Paper #3 October 16, 2009

Barbara Wright

10/07/09

Paper #3 Draft

Lessons Learned

            Life holds lessons for each of us, though some are harder than others.  What’s important is that we find a way to learn them, whether through joy or pain, comfort or fear.  I have had many lessons to learn in my life, and the most powerful one was also the most painful.  This lesson came at a time in my life when I was on a mission to prove my worth to the doubters; to move up the administrative ladder at work; to be a foster parent to more children than I really had time for.  Through tragedy I was forced to reevaluate my priorities, which had been pushed aside in my quest for success.  I am willing to share what I went through, so that maybe one of you will learn my lesson, without my pain.

            That Monday was typically chaotic day.  I got off work late, which meant dinner would be on the table late.  The kids needed help planning their Halloween costumes, and needed their homework checked.  Tommy called to say hi, but I was in a rush to get off the phone.  He said he’d stop by later to have dinner with us before he went to visit Ashley in San Diego. Tommy was working long hours at his new job, but he loved it.  He felt like it was the job he was meant to do.  I was hoping Tommy wouldn’t come by that night, because I had too much to do.  He was my son and I loved him, but my work was important to me, and I had to finish the training program for the new social workers.  My mind was on overdrive as I made a mental list of everything I needed to do that evening. After dinner, I made a plate for Tommy and set it aside, made some phone calls, cleaned the kitchen, looked at everyone’s homework, wrote out the bills, prepared my training material for the next day, and fell asleep on the couch.  My internal alarm clock woke me up a few minutes before 5, and I dragged myself off the couch feeling stiff and grumpy.  Tommy’s plate still sat on the counter, so I checked my cell phone for messages.  It was unusual for him not to call if his plans changed, but I didn’t have time to think twice about it.  I would later learn that my life, and my families, would change forever.

            A few hours later, I was training a class of new social workers, and on the morning break I called Tommy.  He didn’t answer, so I sent a text message, and figured he was busy at work.  When we broke for lunch I tried to call Tommy again, but still no answer.  I called his work phone and Brad answered.  I made small talk, embarrassed about checking up on Tommy, but Brad said Tommy did not show up for work, and had not called.  In that instant I knew something was wrong.  I felt dizzy and nauseous as I tried to remember Ashley’s phone number.  I called my daughter and told her Tommy was missing, and her immediate response was that I was probably overreacting.  She said she’d call Ashley and I sat frozen waiting for her to call back.  I knew something was wrong.  When Christy called back, my fears became worse as I heard Tommy had never made it to Ashley’s house.  I told the receptionist that I had to leave, and I felt numb as I drove back to Oceanside.  When I got home I started making phone calls to the highway patrol, police department, hospital, Ashley, and Christy.  I have trouble describing the terror I felt, not knowing where Tommy was, and if he was ok.  As I looked through the phone book, I remembered that there was a trauma hospital in La Jolla, so I looked up the number.  Relief quickly returned to terror as the operator said they had a “Thomas Wright” in the critical care unit.  I was transferred to a nurse, then a social worker, and will never forget her words.  “Do you have someone who can drive you to the hospital?  Your son has been critically injured in a car accident.”  The room started spinning as I told her I was on my way.  I called my daughter and ran to the car. 

            I don’t remember driving to the hospital, but I did.  When I got there, they took me into a room with a social worker who explained that Tommy was brought in the previous night.  He went off the road and hit a tree head-on.  The accident was only half a mile from my house. He was on his way to my house to eat dinner when the accident happened.  The neurosurgeon came in and the words made no sense; head trauma; diffuse axonal injury; fractured skull; C-1 through C-3 vertebrae broken, brain damage; collapsed lungs; crushed foot; facial reconstruction.  I asked the only question that mattered to me at that moment.  Was Tommy going to make it?  I was told that Tommy was on life support, and could not survive without it.  Ninety-eight percent of patients with this type of brain injury would never come off of life support, or remain comatose.  I grabbed the trash can in the small, white, sterile room and vomited. I don’t remember leaving that room, but I do remember seeing Tommy for the first time.  I didn’t recognize him.  He was swollen and still.  The only sounds came from the machines keeping him alive.  There were tubes and wires everywhere.  I had never felt so lost and alone.  My daughter and Ashley came in, but couldn’t stay.  They were devastated, and were having trouble dealing with how Tommy looked.  I did not leave the hospital for three days, and during these three days I did not sleep or eat.  The turning point came on Friday morning.

            I was in a fog when the social worker came to get me.  I again was brought into a small room and there were three doctors waiting for me.  They said that it was time for the family to discuss Tommy’s wishes about life support and quality of life.  It was the time to think about taking him off of life support.  I don’t know if I was in shock, or just sleep deprived, but I could not speak.  They called Christy (my daughter) and she joined us in the room.  She asked some questions while I sat there silently.  She told them that we would talk about it and let them know later, and then she drove me home.  I cried, and slept, talked to the foster kids about what had happened, and called work to tell them I was taking some time off.  I packed a bag and went back to the hospital.  Christy and I stood in the parking lot as over a hundred of our family and friends gathered to show their support.  I went to the chapel and prayed, and for the first time since the accident, I did not feel alone.  My relationship with God was one of the many relationships I had let go in my quest to climb the ladder of success.  It was in that moment, as I sat in the small chapel, that I saw my priorities fall into place.  I felt God’s presence as I felt my strength renewed, and I vowed to never again lose sight of what mattered most to me: God and my family.  Christy and I went to the social worker to let her know that we decided to wait six months before considering taking Tommy off of life support.  I sat by Tommy’s bedside day in and day out, reading to him, talking to him, and praying.  It had been nearly six months when Tommy showed signs of coming out of the coma.  I told the nurses that Tommy was making signs with his hands, but they said it was just involuntary muscle movements.  Tommy had taken sing language in college, but I didn’t know any.  Christy and I bought a sign language book, and we discovered that the miracle no one thought was possible was happening.

            Over the next several months, miracles happened every day.  Doctor after doctor came to see Tommy as he started his slow recovery, and each of them said the same thing; “your son’s recovery is truly a miracle.”  Tommy was transferred to Scripps Encinitas rehab facility where he learned to talk, eat, and eventually walk.  When things got hard for Tommy, we talked about how God had given him a second chance, and he vowed to not let it go to waste.  The day Tommy was released from the rehab facility was exactly fourteen months after his accident.  He was released on Christmas day, 2006.  I retired from my job without any regrets because it allowed me to stand by Tommy throughout his recovery. Suddenly I realized that the job and career that I thought was so important, that made me hope my son would not come by for dinner that night, meant very little compared to the love of my family and my faith in God.  In May 2008, Tommy moved into his own apartment.  He works full time and supports himself.  He cannot drive, but is very independent and navigates the public transportation system in North San Diego County like pro.  He helped me make the decision to move to Alabama, at least temporarily, because my Mom has cancer and he knew she needed me to stand by her through her battle to recover the same way I had stood by him.  Some people think that Tommy’s accident was a terrible tragedy, but in reality the positive impacts surpass the negative.  I am thankful every day for his second chance at life, and my second chance to live my life with my priorities in place.  My children and foster children are all adults now and we share a special bond because of the lessons we learned from Tommy’s accident.  I no longer worry about my nails, hair, clothes, or making it to the top at work, but I walk with God, and thank him every day for my relationships with the people I love.

Fall Break Sucked October 15, 2009

Since I knew that for fall break I had to go to Tennessee to help my mother who recently had surgery, I decided to take one day to do something relaxing and enjoyable.  I went to the Botanical Gardens on Friday to see the birds of prey show, but before I got there, my tire went flat.  I was mildly annoyed but didn’t let the delay get in the way of my fun day.  When I sat to eat my lunch before the show started, I got stung or bit by something on my stomach.  Again, I was annoyed but determined not to let it affect my day.  Right after the show began, the rain started.  Ok, a little rain doesn’t hurt, so no big deal.  After the show I left to go back to Tennessee and stoped at WalMart in Fayetteville to print my pictures.  While I was waiting for my pictures to print, people started screaming as the front doors and ceiling appeared to be collapsing, and over the intercom they kept repeating, “code black, everyone to the back of the store”.  We were hurried to the back, and rumors started floating about that a tornado had touched down in front of the store.  After we were allowed to leave, I headed to my mom’s house where soon after I noticed that my sting/bite was swelling and spreading.  I ended up in the ER, hooked up to an IV where antibiotics were being pumped into me.  After I stopped vomiting from my allergic reaction to the antibiotics, they released me – after I got a shot of antibiotics and prescriptions for 2 other antibiotics which cost me $135.  I was sick all weekend from the mysterious infection caused by the sting/bite, traumatized by the “tornado”, broke because of the tire and meds I had to buy, and felt guilty because I could not take care of my mom.  That was my fall break.  Hope yours was much better.