The First Rental

The foreclosure had proceeded and reached the stage where we had to move. We found a farm owned by a man living out in Arizona. The land wasn't being farmed or the barns being used. We felt we would at least have some privacy. The house wasn't big, but did have two small bedrooms down and two more upstairs. I loved the U shaped kitchen that was open on one end with room for a table. Next to the kitchen was a small entry area with a walk in pantry in back. The dining room was across from that entry. The nice kitchen was shut off a bit from the rest of the house and was my biggest objection. Though I liked the entry that led to a cement patio like area off the kitchen. And it was at ground level without steps. And who could object to the pantry. The dining room was small with doors on all four sides and a window next to the kitchen door. The only bathroom was off the dining room with the stairway upstairs on another wall with a large arched opening to the living room on the fourth wall. The living room had a front door and a side door and the stairway to the basement and two more doors leading to the downstairs bedrooms. There wasn't a wall in the whole house that didn't have doors or windows and the small rooms made furniture placement awkward. Like they say, location, location, location. We liked the farm and area and with short notice and rent to consider, we were content to move in.

It was mid July in the summer of 1979 and I had a BBQ party to thank everyone who helped us move, and also to celebrate W's birthday. That was on the same weekend we moved in and we hadn't even totally unpacked. Our friends helped plan and organize and it was a relaxed fun evening. And I discovered immediatley that we weren't there alone.

The gang was on the concrete patio off the kitchen entrance when I went to the sink to wash something. Someone blew on the back of my neck as I stood at the sink. I didn't even turn around at first. I thought W, or perhaps BBR who liked to sneak up on you, had followed me in. I just said something and continued what I was doing. So they blew harder on the back of my head and it even moved my hair. I turned around, and discovered I was alone in the kitchen. OH DEAR, here I go again. I must be crazy. It was just like the old farm house I'd grown up in. It didn't really scare me. I just took for granted I'd moved in with another ghost. But, I wasn't sure how W or TK would feel about it. So I decided not to say anything. This didn't feel dangerous to me, so I decided to wait and see if the others would notice.

It didn't take long. I guess this ghost had been lonely. No one had lived there for quite some time, and it made itself known to just about anyone who spent any time in the house. W's first experience was when he was sitting on the sofa and something sat down beside him, even leaving an indentation in the cushion beside him. I hadn't noticed untill he jumped right back up. The indentation stayed a bit, then the ghost got up too. We saw the cushion move. W didn't like it a bit. TK was ok as long as he wasn't alone in the house, but he refused to stay there alone. TK was the only one to actually see a foggy haze. He would have been 8 at the time. My friend FLF also felt the breeze of someone blowing on her and she was terrified. Even JT got to meet the ghost when it sat on him while he was laying on the sofa. We all heard footsteps all over the house.

We moved back out before Christmas. But, it wasn't just the ghost who caused us to break the lease. The house wasn't safe. It's too bad. I liked the house and I loved the farm location with the barns and fields surrounding me on a township road. I would have been content to stay. If TK hadn't become increasingly frightened. He swore there were two ghosts and one wasn't friendly. And then winter came and it was a dangerous furnace that settled the issue.

Electrocuted

I'd only had my vending job a few weeks at the Hospital (I'd trained at a factory, actually the same factory that became my account and where I was working 27 years later when I did have to quit.) when I electrocuted myself on a bare wire in the sandwich machine. Later we discovered our maintenance man had worked on the machine earlier and forgot to replace a cover over a wire connection with it's guard. I was wiping down dust with a damp rag and hit the bare wire. I remember the "snapcrackle" and turning to the nearest cafeteria table in the same room where some hospital workers were sitting with their coffee. They'd heard the noise too and jumped to help me. That's all I remember. I guess if you have to electrocute yourself, a hospital is the best place to do it. It knocked me out cold. But, they caught me before I hit the floor. I know that because they told me later what a scare I gave them.

When I regained consciousness, I gave a nurse a real scare too. But, not half the scare I got myself. Coming to is confusing. You don't remember immediately what happened or where you are or how you got there. In fact the first thing that registered for me was that I couldn't feel my head. I'd never known that feeling in my life. My head always hurt, sometimes worse than others, but the pain is always there. So before I was fully aware of my suroundings, all I knew was that I couldn't feel my head, like it was no longer a part of me. I started screaming, "Where's my head? I can't feel my head." The nurse had been taking my pulse and was holding my hand and the other hand was tangled in blankets, so I couldn't reach to feel my head. This panicked me and I started thrashing around and still yelling, "Where's my head? I can't feel my head." That poor nurse had been worried about my erratic heart and I'm fighting her to feel my head. She was afraid I'd fall off the gurney. The more she held me down, the more I was convinced I'd lost my head. I bet she was convinced I'd lost my head too, or at least fried my brain. Can you imagine the scene?

She'd yelled for help with the crazy lady and then she finally said something that got through to me. I remember her telling me, "You're using your mouth, so your head is right where it should be! Now settle down!" That got through and I stopped to think about it.

By now I was more conscious and since the fear of not feeling my head had eased, I was aware of a burning sting-tingle throughout my body. No headache, but I was quickly realizing the sting-tingle was a lot more unpleasant. Especially in my heart area. I'd never noticed my heart before. And there were some kind of spasms jumping around in my body too. Now I remembered the shock and knew where I was and the poor nurse didn't have to hold me down anymore. But, I did have to explain to her what it had all been about. The aneurysm had been several months before, but I'd not been in this local hospital.

They kept me for a couple hours till my vitals were normal again. My Suprevisor had been called and stayed with me till they released me. The nurse told my Supervisor, and anyone else who would listen, about her crazy shock patient screaming about losing her head. That's how my boss found out about my omission. I hadn't mentioned the aneurysm to them. The question had been, did I have a medical condition that would effect my work. Since I was determined it wouldn't, I didn't say anything. Thank goodness I'd been working long enough they decided to keep me. Part of that might have had something to do with a fear of a law suit because the shock had been their fault after all. Afterwards my Suprevisor wanted to take me home, but I talked her into going back to work with me and we finished my account together. I was always too stubborn to let anything interfer with a job I was being paid to do. If I could help it. Back then we were raised that way.

By the time that awful spasm sting-tingle went away, my usual headache was back. There would never be any shock treatment for me. I'd rather have my familiar headache then the feelings that shock caused. But, I still grin when I remember that poor emergency room Nurse who had no idea why her shock patient was screaming, "Where's my head? I can't feel my head."

So Very Lucky

If everyone has a turning point in their lives, this was mine. Several times I've looked back over that period in my life. I'm continually amazed at just how lucky I was. Most of the group that met regularly, eventually knew about my aneurysm. Maybe that was why they wanted to protect me. I believe I was just lucky to find myself in a bunch of really nice, decent people. Watched over by God. The women made our group complete. Those men each had oportunities to take advantage of me. No one ever even tried. There were an even half dozen truckers who I rode with over time. Some of the trips took me as far as Cleveland. I asked one of the men once what they got out of having me along. He laughed and told me I was the "eye candy" that other truckers saw out on the road and made my friends look good. Those longer trips always included one stop for coffee (tea for me, I don't like coffee) and I was the pretty, unknown woman they could be seen with. I don't know why that amused me, but it did. I guess I just liked the attention.

No fuss or special deal was made over my condition when the gang met. If they talked about it when I wasn't there, they only asked how I was when I joined them. Gradually otheres popped in when they were in town. And spouses (not mine, though he was invited) joined us when schedules allowed. I felt safe and protected and I'd never enjoyed myself so much. I was able to forget my troubles for hours at a time. (My spouse only met them when I invited a couple to our home for cards.)

It was PNT who I got closest to. I rode in his big rig a lot. This man let me talk. He encouraged me to talk. Some days, when the group dispersed, we would go out to the 38 acres or along the river or some lake and walk and talk. Sometimes FLF or RDP would walk with us, or one of the others. But, I could say the most about my feelings when we were alone. Sometimes he would lecture me. He was concerned about some of the teasing on the C.B. that FLF and I would get into with strangers just passing through town. He kept reminding me that anyone with a C.B. could zero in on our locations by the strength of the signal. He insisted I had a sexy voice and I was coming across the radio as someone he knew I wasn't. I didn't care. I loved the attention. I'd never had attention like that before. I was a woman in my early 30's who still had not been told I was pretty. (Even after two marriages.) Suddenly I was hearing it a lot. Did I have to almost die of an aneurysm before anyone noticed me. Life is strange. And, I was so naive, I ended up saying things over the radio that sent everyone into gales of alughter. PNT warned me that strangers couldn't know I wasn't even aware of the double meanings of what I was saying. I was learning though. FLF or PNT or one of the others would always explain it later. And still, I kept saying those things because it always caused the radio to light up. (That's when everyone tried to talk at once and the "in use light" stays lit.) The gang got a kick out of it too, but they worried about me and lectured me.

PNT was my big brother, my best friend. We did get very close, but it was never romantic. We talked about that. He always said it would spoil what we had. I didn't want romance. I needed a shoulder to cry on. I needed someone to help me deal with a life that was out of control. PNT helped me deal with Joe's death. With JT leaving me to live with his Dad. With the probability of the headaches killing me. And also of losing the log home and where I was headed with the man I was married to.

I'm sure there are many who would still call it an affair. PNT was the first man in my life who tried to understand who I was and what I wanted. Without anything but friendship in return. I think he knew me better than I knew myself. Because he taught me how to believe in myself. And he was so wise. When he felt we were getting "too close" he pulled back and reminded me we were friends who had a lot to lose if we spoiled what we had. My emotions were raw and anyone could have taken advantage of me. This man not only recognized my values, he helped me know how important they were to me. God sent me just what I needed, when I needed it most. His name was PNT.

A Citizen's Band Radio

I'd gotten the C.B. Radio for driving back and forth to Mom's right after she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Cell Phones were unheard of back then, and the radio was the safty net when I was out on that 50 mile drive alone, or with my small boys. At first I didn't even bother with a "handle", which is what they call the name you use when you go on air. It was just for emergencies. I did listen to it everytime I was in the car and I got familiar with the lingo. Then I discovered one of the Thursday womens bowling league members also had a C.B. Radio. FLF had a base at home as well as the car unit. It was about that time that I discovered the quicksand and suddenly I had a handle. FLF and Quicksand became fast friends. After I got the vending job, I was also able to get FLF a job with the vending company and our schedules were the same. She worked a local factory that was seperated into several buildings. So we were in and out of our cars during work. (When I went from one hospital building to the other.) We worked 5 hours a day, five days a week and finished at noon. With hours to spare before school was out and we had to be home. Our husbands were both on second shifts, leaving for work around 3 p.m., so even in summer we found ways not to hurry home right after work every day, since they were with our kids.

Who did we talk to? We had that C.B. buzzing. But, we weren't stupid. We didn't meet strangers. My husband had grown up with a friend who now owned a trucking company in town. I already knew him and I'd met most of his drivers. That's how it started. We bounced the teasing back and forth and picked on other drivers going through town. My favorite drivers hauled sand from a quarry east of town to the glass factory in town. So they were around a lot. They started work very early in the morning to have a supply on hand for the first shift at the glass factory. FLF and I started at 7 A.M. Since we all usually got off work around the same time on most days, we would meet at a local diner. Not the same group each day. It would depend on who was able to show up. That's how our contacts expanded.

Then later another friend started letting us into his restaurant before he opened each morning, and before we went to work. We would start to gather about 5 A.M. and if someone wanted to meet any of us, they had to show up then. Our trucking friends would stop for a coffee break with us because the diner was on their route. Our group expanded and I knew who I was talking to on the radio. By then there were quite a few women and men. We would help take the chairs off the tables and get the diner ready to open and then sit at a round table by the kitchen door. The lights were left off in the rest of the diner, so strangers wouldn't come in before he opened. There could be anywhere from 5 to 10 of us at any given time.

As I got to know the drivers better and learned who I could trust, I started accepting invitations to make those short local runs for sand in the semi's with them after I got off work. I knew how it sounded on the C.B. when we made our plans, but I also felt I wasn't doing anything wrong, and I didn't care what strangers thought. The drivers all knew how long a run took and they were all on the road together, so they knew I wasn't doing more than riding along. FLF never did get up enough nerve to ride along. And the other women worked full time, so I was the only one who did that.

One time I was getting out of a semi at the diner where I'd left my car, when the drivers sister saw his truck and pulled in. She told his wife and a few days later the wife showed up at the diner while a group of us were there after work. She read me a riot act and it was embarrassing. But, the husband calmed her down and the group convinced her I wasn't a threat. I don't think she ever really trusted me, but she did get to know me and we did get along ok. She joined us often after that, sometimes even when her husband wasn't there. She seemed to have fun with us, but I always wondered if she was just checking up on us.

Another of the drivers was my favorite. He made sure I met his wife right away. PNT and LTR often came to our house along with FLF and her hubby, BBR, for a game of poker. I'm not sure if LTR ever completely trusted me either, but she was gracious in accepting my friendship with PNT. He was my saviour during that horrid period after my brothers death and my aneurysm. That man kept me sane. He spent time with me and let me talk endlessly about Joe and my own fears of dying and losing my home. His advice kept me going. We spent so much time together, I know there was talk. Sometimes FLF was with us, and sometimes not. I didn't really care what people were saying. I needed that chance to talk to someone who cared.

Expecting Death Any Day

Bankruptcy isn't a quick process. The hurt goes on and on. You see your name printed in the paper several times over many months. People don't know what to say to you. I believed it was W's fault and he blamed me. Even if I wanted a divorce, it would have had to wait till our finances were settled. We continued to bowl together and spend time with our closest friends. But, most of the folks around here didn't even know about the aneurysm. I felt pretty much alone, and I was changing.

Waking up every day, I was wondering if the headache (my time bomb) would explode into another aneurysm. And, if it did, would I die or (even worse) be a vegetable. I challenge anyone to live with that, without going just a bit crazy.

That fall when TK started back to school and I found myself alone for hours, I knew I had to do something. Grandmom Chief worked for the employment office. I went to see her and asked if she could find me a part time job to take my mind off myself. I didn't want to go back into office work because of the eye problem. And, lifting was out. I wasn't sure she could find me anything, that would allow me to be home when TK came home from school. I didn't want those cashier type hours or have to work evenings. She came up with something I would never have thought of. She found me a vending job. Not a route. This company set you up in an account where you filled and cleaned machines and did minor maintenance. It was like running a small business. You did all the ordering for your account and those orders were brought to you by a delivery man. I was also responsible for the money bag which was picked up by the delivery man (along with the next orders) when he brought my supplies three times a week. I had a storeroom at the account and I had a cart to haul things to the machines. So there was very little lifting and with planning I could lift everything in small boxes. Nothing heavier than a 6 pack of pop. And, best of all, my account was the local hospital. Actually, two hospitals. They had recently combined and I had both buildings. Deliveries were made to each building and they were only a few blocks apart in our small town. The only thing I didn't like was the monthly Inventory we had to turn into the company. The job worked great for me. I had a supervisor, but she had girls in other accounts and once she realized I was responsible, I seldom even saw her. The schedule was flexable and the work was easy and had enough variety to be fun. It also gave me a few dollars I could call my own. I didn't even offer anything to W, and he never had the nerve to ask. I was becoming a different person then he was used to.

I didn't tell anyone I worked with (or around) at first that I was waiting to die. But, I did start getting a reputation for being a bit wild. What did I have to lose. I wanted to live before I died.

It was the C.B. radio that got me headed down that road. What a glorious year I had waiting to die. Even with the bankruptcy hanging over me. Maybe even because of it. Another factor must have been that I no longer felt I owed W much of anything. Yup, my wild year of waiting to die was a pretty good year. I guess I should regret it, but I don't. The only thing I would regret now is if I had caused my son any embarrassment. He assures me that didn't happen. And his older brother was too far away to be effected. Then when I realized I was way past the deadline and still alive, I had to grow up again. Still, that period can make me smile.

After The Hospital

After giving us the bad news, it seemed they couldn't get me out of the hospital quickly enough. They had to wait till the swelling in my throat from that last test had gone down, and the meds to keep me calm had worn off. It's very scary to have your throat swell closed enough to effect your breathing and lose your voice. I really have no idea now of how many days I was even in the Hospital. I'm pretty sure it was over a week.

When I was released, we couldn't reach W. So my parents took me home where TK was waiting. For whatever time I'd been in the hospital, W had never been back to see me or get TK or even phoned to ask how I was or what was wrong with me. In fact he hadn't even told any of our friends where I was. Till the Thursday I didn't show up for my womans bowling league. I was the Treasurer and my absence without explanation caused a stir. One of the women also bowled with me and W, along with her husband, on our Sunday night couples league. She finally reached W by phone. She and her husband were my only hospital visitors from Knox County. They were also part of our Euchre Club and we'd been close friends almost since I'd come to this county. They were amazed and surprised by W's actions. But all W would ever say was that hospital smells made him sick. I never even got a hint of any apology.

No excuse was ever going to be enough for my parents. He hadn't even phoned. They never tried to tell me I should leave W. They tried hard to keep their opinions to themselves. I still wasn't ready to accept another divorce. I desperately wanted TK to grow up with both parents and not have to go through what JT was experiencing. I hoped that if our lives could reach some kind of normalcy, W and I could still make it work. After all, he was only weak when things were tough. Besides, TK would need his Father if I really did die. (That year the Doctor gave me was going to be a rough year.)

Normal wasn't in the immediate future. We still had a log home to save from Bankruptcy. After learning I couldn't lift logs, and knowing I was facing death if I did, it seemed obvious the only way to finish now was to hire a contractor to finish quickly. We were almost to the roof. Again, W did the unthinkable. He refused to hire help. He wanted to be able to say he built it himself. What on earth was he thinking. I realized he was refusing to listen to anything he didn't want to hear. The same way he'd refused to do anything that upset him. If W didn't like something, he convinced himself it didn't exist or matter. He never would listen or allow me to talk about the aneurysm or that it could still kill me.

We argued about how to finish the log home all that summer, till the Bank started Bankruptcy. Then he blamed me when we lost everything. The debt had grown so large by then, they even took our first house. I never did understand that. Somewhere we had failed to read the small print. I do blame myself for that. We lost both of our properties.

That's when I really started to believe, with everything going so very wrong, I really started to wonder if I was going to die. Till then I thought I could control it if I avoided any of those things that gave me "That Feeling." The stress had made my headaches unbearable. I imagine my anger also contributed to the pain. Now it looked like I wouldn't have as much control over the headaches as I'd had in the past. And, hadn't the Doctor told me it was now a time bomb that I'd weakened with the first aneurysm.