No More Mt. Laundry

Since the New Year, I've been doing a load of laundry a day (this I learned from my Momma). Doing things this way usually includes 1 load of towels a week. And believe it or not, this actually makes it feel like I'm not really doing laundry at all. I highly recommend giving it a try.

Well, last week we had a "head lice scare" and everything in the house got washed, including EVERY towel, last Wednesday.

Well, fast forward to this morning. It was time for towels again, and I thought it looked like the pile was bigger than it should be. As I begin placing the towels in the washing machine, I realized that there were WAY TO MANY TOWELS TO FIT ALL OF THEM INTO THE MACHINE (did that look like maybe I was a bit frustrated? Well, I was). After I did a quick count, I realized that my small family (2 adults, 2 pre-pubescent children) had dirtied 13 bath towels and numerous wash cloths and hand towels. This didn't even included the 3 kitchen towels I wanted to clean. With all of these smaller towels, I'll round 13 bath towels to a total number of 15 (even though, all-in-all there were more, I figured the smaller ones added up to a total of 2 bath towels.

15. That's almost 4 towels a piece. And I think most of this excess is being fueled by the children's use of towels. Is it just me, or does 13 (much less 15) seem a bit excessive?
I know what my "Parts of the Day" will be tonight around the dinner table.

20 Years Later and I'm Finally Not Looking Back Quite so Hard

Today used to be a day that I watched for on the calendar. Watched for it. Waited for it to. And dreaded its arrival. The whole month of February used to cause me lots of stress (for many reasons that happened in a succession of years after the thing that happened on the 21st).

20 years ago, the 21st was a Tuesday, I believe. I was at college and was getting ready for a 4 way mixer (2 sororities and 2 fraternities)...it was going to be a blast - we even had a t-shirt printed for this one! I had eaten dinner and went back to my room to primp. My mother called. We chatted about the goings on of the day, and the Mixer that awaited me that night. Her call waiting beeped, and since this was the days before caller ID, she decided to let me go get finished with my party preparation and go see who was calling on the other line. So we said our "I love you's" and went about our ways.

I arrived at the party, began drinking some beer (not quite legal, but I was close enough know one said anything), dancing and taking pictures with my friends with the "Flash" (photographer) who was there. The party hadn't been going for too long when someone told me that Bryan was looking for me.

Now this took me by surprise, because we weren't mixing with Bryan's fraternity. Why in the world was Bryan here? This was really odd. They wouldn't let him into the party because he was not an invited guest, so I had to go the front for him. The look on his face was very serious. My mind kept wondering why he looked so seriously serious. We hadn't been arguing, no fighting, but my mind kept wondering why in the world he was picking a mixer as the appropriate place to break up with me. And what had happened for him to even want to break up with me?

I simply couldn't get my mind around it. Plus, I had just started catching a buzz, he was going to ruin that for sure.

So, as I get to the front, show him my surprise at him being there, and then try to get him to come into the party, he gently tells me that he needs to talk to me. I say o.k., let's talk. To which he tells me we should probably go outside. He's being very tender, not at all like he's getting ready to dump me, but my mind is still on the "what is he going to do, dump me?" train of thought.

So we go to the parking lot, and he somehow tells me (this is kind of blurry) that my dad has had a heart attack and that we need to go home.
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Wait. Did he just say that my dad had a heart attack?! I was just on the phone with my mother and she didn't say anything (turns out that call waiting was the frantic phone call from a collegue of my father's that they had called 911 because they thought he was having a heart attack). Why would Bryan know and not me? Is Dad alive? When did this happen? How am I going to get home? Do I need to call my mom? Where is my mom? Is my brother with her?

Oh, so many questions. And Bryan didn't know how to answer them. All he could say is that my mom had called and needed him to come get me so that I could come home. At the time she called Bryan, Bryan thought Dad was alive. But I could tell he wasn't really sure.

So somehow I find myself back in my room on the phone trying to reach my my mom. I somehow get to the CICU waiting room. I don't recall how I got the information to even get the number to that phone or how I even knew which hospital to call. Bryan may have had that information. Before I can actually get to Mom, I remember that my Godparent's answered and told me that he was alive. They asked me how I was and then passed the phone to my brother. I knew I would get the straight scoop from him. He was 4 years younger than me and a Junior in High School at the time.

Joe sounded awful. Simply awful. He told me that Dad was alive. But when I asked if I needed to come home (tonight or could it wait until tomorrow), without hesitation he said that I had to come home RIGHT NOW.

Oh no. I don't even remember if I got to talk with mom or not. Everything got really blurry.

My mind started racing. I had a lot to get together so that I could get on the road ASAP. Bryan has said he would drive me ...I didn't need to be driving. Not only because I had recently had a few beers, but because it was late and it was a 4 hour drive to get home. I had to let my roommate and suitmates know that I was going home and that I didn't know when I would come back. Oh, and that I also wouldn't be attending our Sorority's formal in Atlanta this weekend.

I think I finally got home somewhere around 4:00 am. And when I say home, I mean the hospital. The 4 hour ride hadn't taken quite that long - Bryan had a good lead foot. Don't forget that 20 years ago was before all college kids had cell phones (it was even a big deal for parents to have cells at this particular time), so during this long ride home I had no updates on Dad's condition. Had he gotten better? Had things turned sour? Or had he really been dead this whole time and no one wanted to tell me over the phone?

I had no idea what the news was going to be when I arrived at the hospital.

I found my way through the maze of halls and up to the CICU, where the waiting room was full of loved ones. I think Momma and Joe were in the room (but they could have been somewhere else at this particular moment in time). I think my Godparent's were in the room. But I really don't remember who was there. I think it was Joe that I saw first. I think I burst into tears. Please, someone tell me if my Daddy is still here! That was all I could think.

I was relieved when I found that he was still with us. And apparently doing fine. I think there were more tears. The nurse found out that I was "the patient's" daughter, and she broke the "only every 4 hours" visitor rule and let me go in to see Dad. Mostly because Dad had been asking a lot about me. He was worried about how long (and how late) Bryan and I were on the road, and she knew it would ease his stress level (which would be good for his heart). So, the wonderful nurse let me in the see my Daddy.

My mom was the true Steel Magnolia. She did all the right Mom things. Hugs and kisses and lots of reassurance that Daddy was fine. She also warned me about all of the hoses, tubes, needles and machines that Dad was hooked up to. She didn't want me to be alarmed. She also cautioned me that I needed to be careful if I hugged him because his chest was burned from the 11 (yes, that was ELEVEN) different times they had to hit him with the defibrillator to keep him from leaving us.

Holy Cow! This was a much bigger heart attack than I was thinking it was.

So as I enter the room, I am relieved to see Daddy smiling at me. I think we're all a bit upset, but I was trying very hard not to be crying when I went into his room. I didn't want to upset him (most of you know what a great crier I am).

And Mom was right, there were more tubes, hoses, cuffs, and beeping machines than I had ever seen in anyone's hospital room before. And it was HOT in there. They had apparently pumped so much blood thinner in Dad, that at this point, his blood was running ICE. I swear it was every bit of 80 degrees. And even under about 4 thermal blankets he was still shivering.

Of course I hugged and kissed Daddy. Deep inside I was kind of afraid to touch him, I don't want to hurt him, or knock covers off of him and make him cold. He and Mom showed me how strong his heart looked on the monitor. He showed me where all of the monitor leads were hooked, and the bruises and burns on his chest (while kind of laughing I might add). And mostly he just looked like my dad. Only he was hooked up like he was in an ER-type TV show.

And then it hit me. I almost lost my Dad. I could have arrived and found my dad not here. At this point I had been running on adrenaline since about 9:00 or 10:00 (whatever time it was when Bryan came to get me). And the adrenaline decided to turn in to a rush of relief. And this rush decided to come over me as I stood there in Dadd's room. And I almost passed out.

That's right. I was trying not to stress out Dad, and here I go, almost monkey-ing in his room. I'm going to blame it on the heat in there. Did I tell you how hot it was in there? After I got a cold cloth (and I think some smelling salts, but I may be remember a part of a different hospital room story that I'll try to remember to write about later), I got myself together enough to try to keep it light and laugh at myself so that Dad wouldn't have to be worried about me of all things. And that's when I tried to have a moment of comic relief. And that's when I outed with, "Daddy, you know if you had done this 24 hours earlier, I could have saved the $6.00 I spent today at the Laundry Mat." (of course meaning that I could have brought all of that dirty laundry home instead.) I think it worked - we all laughed.

And that is what we still all laugh about today. Although today almost went by without me calling Dad. I actually saw him today and forgot to tell him Happy February Birthday. And when we did talk, he reminded me that next year he'll be legal. Good Ol' Dad!

20 years after a major heart attack, with no other cardiac events to follow, is a pretty big milestone I say. Along the way, he stopped smoking, was invited to DC to receive the Ecotrin Heart Award a few years later (the actual award was an amber colored, Bacarat crystal heart), and has lived to see both of children get married and become parents.

Happy February Birthday, Daddy!

(And if anyone wonders the reason for the heart attack...in short, an allergic reaction. To drinking non-stop coffee and smoking non stop packs of cigarettes as he got through the long hours of working around the clock to keep a television station on the air - and equipment repaired in it - after Hurricane Hugo hit in September, just a few months before.

It was so much nicotine and caffeine that he had basically saturated his body and his heart finally had an allergic reaction to all of it. No blockages. No bi-passes. Just no more nicotine and no more all day caffeine.)

There's No Place Like Home

Suzy went home today! Yay, Suzy!
She is my friend's niece who was hit in the head by the pine tree while building a snowman last Saturday. To read her story, go to this journal on Caringbridge.

Snow, Man!

The snow was fun, but short lived. It was soft and fluffy enough that rolling snowman body parts literally picked up all the snow in its path. We started the night at Folly Beach with friends (it was our Winter Break from school) and as we drove back to the house Saturday morning (all of about 3 miles), it was like a line was drawn - from where the snow didn't stick, to where the winter wonderland started. And the snow just got deeper as you went further inland (duh, right?). Here are a few snow picks... when I can find the others (meaning, I've done this in multiple parts and can't figure out where I've saved them to the computer) I'll post more.

Miracle Worker Pictures

Whew...the play is over. I didn't realize how much time I actually had during the day until I got it back. I miss it a bit (the play that is...I know Julia does too), and I'm so thrilled that Julia was able to be a part of a performance that was truly a great piece of art. I have uploaded a few pictures to share with you. Of course, I wasn't able to take photos during the performances (I was able to attend 3, I was backstage for 3 others). It was a fantastic first time experience.

Here goes.....

These are the directors, the main director, Mark, is an attorney by day, avid actor (you should have seen his bio) and director by night. He had a remarkable attitude and Mary, the Assistant Director and Stage Manager, was equally wonderful. This photo was taken after the final performance.

Helen Keller, the cutie with the blue bow, her "Mom and Dad and Brother" and Annie Sullivan to the left. They were wonderful. It was weird seeing "Helen Keller" being such a normal girl, smiling, laughing and giggling with the rest of the girls during the intermissions when she was able to come sit with us. Sometimes "Brother Keller", aka Tyler would come back stage and sit too. The girls loved him, he was constantly making them laugh.
Julia as her "Old Crone" character standing in the door that she opened during the play to say her lines. She was a Perkins Institute Girl (the school for the Blind that Annie Sullivan came from), and these are some of the friends she made standing with her. She started as a Perkins Girl, and ended the play as a Crone...that's why she looks so creepy. I had several people say she "looked like a booger" and some others say she was a great "Creepy Girl". She was thrilled when she "got" her Crone voice. The director told the three crones that they should play around with what they thought their crone sounded like, and bring him their interpretations. He really left it up the them to come up with the sound and then he directed their delivery.
The smiling Crone. Those are just odd shadows on the dress, there were no stains. Notice the boots. I think she was as excited about the boots as anything. We had to purchase them (the stage/wholesale discount of $11.00), so they are now in her closet. She can't wait to wear them again.
This was actually taken during the curtain call. The girls who saw me take it gave me grief for taking pictures during the performance. My defense was that there was no flash, so they shouldn't have cared, ha.
The theater is very small. There are only two dressing rooms that the principle actors used (and there were a number of costume changes for them), and since there were 9 girls, they got to have a little spot in the props warehouse. Can you say COLD. This was during the run of our unseasonal 20 degree nights. We couldn't get the space heater to get above 55 degrees. Lots of blankets were in use. This shot is in the back part of the warehouse...we didn't go back that far, I just thought it would give a great impression of the kind of place we were being housed.
Julia putting on her creepy makeup - lots of white powder and purple under the eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks.
Cute little Solomon. He was the only little boy hanging with all of the girls. He is 9. He was in charge of the dog that was in the show. He is Annie and Helen's servant that stays with them while they are in the garden house. He is in his "sleeping clothes" here..

Here's Ryan, the dog. He was precious. Much cuter than the picture shows. He was also very gas-y. Lot's of HEAVY air biscuits. Back stage mothers were also in charge of walking him during the two intermissions. We got to go through the door in the back of the warehouse and walk him in the cobblestone, foliage lined alley. He was a hit with the actors and the audiences. He was "Momma Keller's" dog in real life. He won the role after the pretty, yellow lab blew it during opening night. He was never on stage when the house lights were all the way down and when he came out the first time and the audience oohed and aahed at him, he started barking. Annie Sullivan did a great job of doing an ad lib around it.Julia and some of the girls hanging out, waiting. In her Crone makeup.
All of the girls. Hanging out again. Waiting some more.
I'm sure I'll upload some more later, but this should do for now.

Oh, on a total other note, this week I got my hair done. I toned my blonde (I used to really be blonde without any help), and darkened it up. I like it. Only the people at my Bible Study noticed. I guess no one noticing (including husband) must mean it looks fine, otherwise I'm sure he would have said otherwise. Maybe a picture of that soon. Oooh, and of us playing in the snow we're supposed to get tonight. We NEVER get snow that sticks (2000 was the last time and 1989 before that). How exciting!

6 Down, 4 to Go

Julia actually didn't have rehearsal tonight. Or basketball. Or cotillion. We actually got to have supper as a family. And bedtime for her was 8:00, not the 11:00 or 11:30 it has been. And those times have become such the customary thing that she said she wasn't tired at 8:00. So she went to bed and read for while. That must feel like a luxury for her about now.

She's definitely been a trooper. This coming Thursday, Friday and Saturday night and Sunday's matinee are the final performances. It's been such a long time coming that it really is hard to think of it being almost over. Pictures will be coming soon.