Life Has Changed....

 I am sitting here, trying to put into words how our lives have changed.  I have found throughout my life that writing it down brings some perspective.  It doesn't change things physically, but it will bring an understanding of what I am dealing with.

Wonderful Hubby developed an eye issue, in January, of 2024, that turned out to be a one in a million shot of getting this.  It's an inflammation of the third cranial nerve, creating double vision and blurred vision.   He was diagnosed with Tolosa- Hunt Syndrome by a blood test and confirmation with an MRI.  He was seen by a neurologist and prescribed 60 mg of steroids a day.  That totally fouls up glucose numbers.  So, for three weeks we battled double vision and high glucose numbers.  

Then he began to experience other issues, numbness in his left hand.  Even after seeing a neurologist and family doctor, no one thought he was having Transient Ischemic Attach.  Then on Saturday, February 24th he had a stroke while sitting at the table eating with Emily and me.  We immediately called the squad, and he was taken to the hospital.  Home and second stroke happened March 12th.  Squad called again.  It was determined he needed Carotid Artery Surgery.   The morning before the time he was to report to the hospital he got some intestinal issue that had him up and down all night running to the bathroom.  He became so weak that I called Debbie Krajicek to come and tell me what I needed to do.  We again called the squad!

By the time he was admitted, he was feeling better.  But they kept him, surgery the next morning.  All the kids and I waited to hear that the surgery went well.  Instead, we find that he needed three stents in a heart artery, after crashing on the operating table before Carotid Artery Surgery.  Three stents were put in and another will need to be done in a month.

Carotid Artery finally happened on March 26th, he 98% blocked.  Most go home the following day after surgery.  But Richard didn't, he developed a hemorrhage, from a small bleed after surgery.  Then the worst happened!  He developed a blood infection, which is basically sepsis.  He had the most extreme response with the bacteria settling in the back of his neck in spine.  I seriously have never seen anyone in such pain that lasted for days.  

If you are counting, he has Tolosa -Hunt Syndrome, vision issues from the strokes, Two Strokes, 3 stents, a hematoma, sepsis, and some other virus that caused coughing for weeks.   He spent a month in the hospital trying to recover, meanwhile his high heartrate was preventing him from doing physical therapy and so he was losing muscle by the day.  Because they wanted him to go home or into therapy, they put him on amiodarone, and it did regulate his heartrate.  He went to Acute Physical Therapy at Mercy Hospital in Springfield.  He was doing great; every day he was proud of the number of steps he could take using a walker.  After thirteen days he got to come home.  

It was good having him home.  But it wasn't easy, juggling medications, giving antibiotics every eight hours through an inline port, trying to fix foods that didn't spike his glucose numbers.  His first week home was good, he was able to get up at night to go to the bathroom with the walker, I felt we could do this. After a week home, he stopped thriving.  He didn't want to do any extra activity, he seemed weaker, and color was off.  A physical therapist came to evaluate his plan for home therapy, and he questioned his jaundice color.  Calling the doctor's office at three in the afternoon on a Friday is impossible, a nurse finally responded, and she said to take him to ER.  It was determined that his liver and kidneys were very sick because of the amiodarone and the antibiotics.  This was another abnormal response from most people taking these drugs.

Another month in the hospital, seven dialysis treatments, MRI's, blood draws and checking the liver numbers.  Again, his heartrate is so high that he has absolutely no physical therapy, more muscle loss was even greater.  Finally, they decided to do a pacemaker.  His pacemaker was state of the art, a battery powered "bullet" that was inserted via the groin vein, into the heart.  A 15-year battery and could be remotely controlled.  (Amazing technology) They needed to have his heartrate under control because they want to get him out of the hospital.  

We could only get him into Friends Rehab Nursing Home, in Yellow Springs.  At first, he liked it there and really liked the staff.  As always chatted with all of them and asking questions and being his charming self.  Then he complained more about his stomach (which he has been describing as indigestion for a while now, popping Tums and mints.)  He had gotten so very weak and couldn't even sit on the side of the bed.  He couldn't roll over on his own, and about the only thing he would do is feed himself but allowed you to feed him if you would.  He was using a bedpan and urinal with aides help.

After almost a week at Friends. he complained more about his stomach, we were baffled.  Then I got a call that he was bleeding and because of all the blood thinners he was on he needed to be rushed to the hospital.  He was diagnosed with diverticula, which had ruptured and caused a small leak.  His body just isn't recovering, his respirations is struggling, his lungs are accumulating fluid, he was ask if he wanted to be intubated and he said, "Do what you have to do."  I couldn't believe he agreed to that.  He was moved to ICU and he couldn't talk.  He was miserable.   His heart was failing.  

I'd ask him if he was done with this struggle, he nodded yes.  With tears and hearts breaking, the kids and I started palliative care and then hospice.  And so, the intubation tube was removed. We spent the day at his bedside.  Ryan spent some quite time with him and then went home.  The girls and I debated about staying or leaving.  We stayed, the nurse found three recliners for his ICU room and after hours of keeping watch, we fell into a light sleep.  At about 2:30 AM the nurse came in to say he was at the end. We were at his side when he took his last breath, July 15th, 2024.  Our lives have changed forever.

Six Months, Life of Our Family

My previous post was an accounting of what Richard endured during his time in the hospital.  But now I want to account for the strength of our little family and how they were always there for me and their father.  I want to mention the numerous friends that came to visit, as well.

After Richard had his first two surgeries, the stents and Carotid Artery surgery, he developed ICU hallucinations, and fear of people coming into his room at all hours, so it began, we took turns spending the night.  The kids took turns sleeping at the hospital and then going to work in the morning.  I would come in during the day to sit and keep Richard company.  Sometimes 10 hours a day.  It was all so exhausting.  I mentioned this Richard a couple of times; I wondered if he would have been that diligent if roles had been reversed.  He assured me he would have, but I'm not so sure, there would have been Tuesday and Thursday shop nights, weekend shoots in Friendship, Indiana, and whatever else.  I probably shouldn't have questioned it, I know from past events, it would have been something important that would keep him away.  Nevertheless, I never doubted his devotion to me.  He showed it every day when he was home and healthy.  He would start my car on a cold morning, he would fix my coffee every morning and bring it to me.  He always made sure there was gas in the gator and take the car for oil changes, he would drop me off at a door and then park the car, causing him to walk further.  He would do all the sweet things a wonderful husband would do.  But sit in a hospital 10 hours a day so that I wasn't alone, I don't think so.  We continued overnights throughout his first month in the hospital.  When he went to Springfield Acute Rehab, we stopped spending the night.  He did fine with that.  It was only after he went into ICU at the end did the overnight stays began again. 

Richard was blessed with friends that would come and visit.  His Ag Teacher friends, his gun buddies, his shop friends, and of course family.  Early on he talked on the phone with friends that couldn't visit.  He chatted with the doctors, nurses, and cleaning staff, engaging them in conversations.  Everyone was kind and helpful.  Richard would shake their hands, and his friends were assured that he was "humbled and grateful" for their friendship.

I was also grateful, having his friends help me get the mower out for spring yard work.  Even going so far as getting tires fixed that were flat and filling the gas cans and whatever else needed done.  Trisha and Emily were also very attentive.  Helping wherever I needed and keeping up with all the doctors and relating information if I wasn't at the hospital.  I swear, every patient needs an advocate to help understand the procedures and question everything happening.  Mostly the nurses would answer questions and request doctors to explain things to us. 

It was a hard time for all of us and yet, we wouldn't have done it any differently.  We still would have been there for hours, often just watching him sleep.  He loved Trisha's foot rubs.  We celebrated our 55th Wedding Anniversary with family gathered.  We had a cake and made it a celebration.  I sometimes brought art in to work on and I would give nurses, cleaning staff or whoever touched us with kindness a piece of my artwork as a thank you.  We truly were blessed by many kind people trying to make Richard comfortable. 

It's hard to believe we lived through six months of this hell.  The next six months may not be any easier.  We lost this wonderful man, on July 15th, 2024.  Our hearts will hurt forever.  

It was a long six months of juggling our lives to be there for this wonderful person we called Dad and Husband.  We missed spring and summer; our lives were on hold and in prayer.  We evaluated this new stage of our lives, getting older and how to deal with it.  A reality check, for sure.

Now we are without our center, our leader, the man we could always count on to bring a perspective of level headedness and kindness.  I lost my life partner, my love and my other half.  This is very hard.

It's Hard, Widowhood....

After the passing of my wonderful husband, my high school sweetheart, my partner for Fifty-Five years, I felt the emptiness in my heart and home.  

Shortly after his passing the calls, cards and our kids were a source of comfort and attention.   In September, Ryan moved in, his house sold after his divorce and until he found new residence, he moved in with me.  During September, Dick Hines and Gary Brown started helping me move and eliminate the small engine collection that filled the barn.  

In October, Emily had her ankle fused and was non-weight bearing for three months.  So, during this time, my life focused on them, plus Trisha's children were participating in sports and we were trying to get to games.  Plus, I developed Afib again, sometime in late October.   I felt like crap before they did an atrial fibrillation and got my heart on track again.

You might say I was under some stress.  I had everyone here for Thanksgiving, Ryan smoked turkey and Trisha and I fixed everything else.   

December comes, I decided not to decorate, and we went to Trisha's for Christmas day.  Meanwhile, we are all missing an important link in our family.  Richard was still being missed but I didn't feel I had time to breathe, let alone greave.  

Things always work in ways that are often unexpected.   Our neighbors, Jon and Rita Wilkinson were having health issues and their daughter moved them to Lexington, Kentucky.   Ryan was given the opportunity to buy the log cabin they owned, and he moved in on January 20th.  

Emily's needs were doctor's appointments and a few household things.  Not much in the big scheme of things.  

Meanwhile, during all this time, I'm trying to clean some areas in the house.  Recognizing with everything I removed, gave away or sold, means I had emotional grieving and guilt about eliminating parts of my wonderful hubby.   Tears came at unexpected times, a song, taking the car for an oil change, going to the license bureau and purchasing tags for everything, this was his job, not mine!

Am I angry he's gone?  Yes, sometimes I am.  Do I feel guilty he's gone, could I have done more?  Did he know how much I cared and wanted him to be well?  Did he know I loved him?

So, as usual I'm meandering.   This was supposed to be about dreams.  I guess I had to share all of the above, so you would know, I didn't have time to dream or at least remember them.  

In January, I finally remembered a couple dreams, both were to include crowds, no one I remember but in both dreams, Richard and I were there together but in separate places and I was looking for him in the crowd.   I was not stressed at not seeing him, but I was looking. I never found him in those two dreams.

Then I dreamed in February, we were in the hospital, Richard had passed, because we had notified his friends.   Then all of a sudden, Richard sat up and ask for his robe (the plaid one from home), he got out of bed and was walking, wanting to get on with things.  Dave Oldiges was there and said, "You told me he passed."  

The dream ended there, but, my interpretation, Richard was showing me he was fine now, strong, moving again and getting on with his journey. 

My next dream happened February 9th, 2025.  It brings tears to my eyes just remembering. 

He and I were back in an adult trade school situation.   We broke up, like high school boyfriend/girlfriend situation.   My heart was broken, and I missed him, I was so lonesome for him.  I was determined to somehow cross paths with him and fix whatever happened.   Suddenly, the alarms were going off and everyone was scrambling.  I was looking for my shoes and then I couldn't find my purse.   I began to panic and suddenly he was there, asking me what was wrong, and I told him I couldn't find my purse.   He put his arm around me, and was helping me look.  I remember snuggling into him and hugging him, it was wonderful to feel his hug.  I awoke crying and have pretty much cried all morning. 

I think he was trying to comfort me, through my dream.  But this moment, I only miss him more. 

It is still hard.

James Richard McDonald, Wonderful Hubby

James Richard McDonald                                                                                                         

                  

 “Mac” as known by his students and friends went to his eternal rest surrounded by family early in the morning on Monday, July 15th. Mac loved teaching Agricultural Education and spent 37 years with his fellow “A teamers” planting the seeds of hard work, creativity and ingenuity into multiple generations of students. He especially loved it when he was able to teach a son or daughter of a former student. Richard was very well known throughout Greene County because of his willingness to stop and chat with anyone. His warm presence drew people in even when they might be busy or in a hurry. It did not matter where he went, if you were lucky enough to be with him, you had better plan for an extra hour because he would inevitably run into someone he knew or someone he had a connection with. He taught us all to be interested in others regardless of the hurried pace of life.                                                                                                                                                                                                                 “Richard” as he was known by his loving wife Cynthia and family could discuss a wide variety of topics and somehow, he would pull you into conversations about topics you never even knew existed. “Hit and Miss” engines, the blueing of a beautiful vintage rifle, John Deere tractors, what to look for in a fine bourbon, his grandson’s latest basketball game, the skills needed to obtain a part for a historical car that he was re-building or what was the best all time John Wayne movie. Those conversations never ended on Thursday nights when a group of his friends appeared at “Mac’s Forge” to make something out of metal for a friend, a special occasion or just for fun. It wasn't as frequent, but some of the most beautiful hand-crafted knives were made in that forge and ended up in the hands of loved ones through out the country. In addition, many of the world’s problems were solved in that shop as well as with fellow members of the MBPCR Club. Mac had a true passion for long distance target shooting and loved all the people that enjoyed the sport with him. He was so proud when he would win the competition in his age group, but far more important was the relationship he built with his fellow competitors. They were a 2nd family in many ways.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Richard’s life never transitioned too far away from the farm. Growing up on a farm, then teaching Agriculture, being involved in FFA, 4-H and the Fair were a way of life for his family especially supporting his granddaughters 4-H livestock shows. Sheep, pigs, and especially horses were a love of Cindy’s and his three children, Ryan, Trisha and Emily. Whatever they loved, became a love of his. Fixing an old car or hooking the horse trailer up for another competition or endurance ride was just part of the job of being a husband and father.  Of course, Richard always found people to connect with at camp and on the road, but he was selfless with his time when it came to his family. As they grew and changed, so did he. Fair animals and horses slowly transitioned to motorcycles and ball games. In recent years, Richard and Cindy have been able to travel all over the United States with many of the miles coming on the back of a Harley Tryke. They loved the time in Monument Valley and all the National Parks, but more importantly, they loved the time they got to spend with friends and family along the way. Their travels often brought them to Shelby County for their grandkids ball games and of course, Richard became an adopted brother of so many in the crowd.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Richard was a man's man. He was not afraid to fix a baler even if it tore up his arms, help load stubborn animals into a trailer even if they needed a little extra coaxing, drive the grain cart when he wasn't feeling well, or just making sure that his grip was firm (and often crushing) every time he greeted you. However, the love and pride he had for Cindy, Ryan, Trisha and Emily will be how he should be truly remembered. As death was nearing, all of Richard’s beautiful talents and interests became secondary. Despite only being able to nod his head, Richard persisted for hours just so the right question could be asked. “Dad, do you want to tell us that you love us?” and then the resounding up and down motion of his head in response. That was Richard “Mac” McDonald. Our hearts are broken and he will be missed every day. Richard was born on January 26th, 1947 and was 77 when he passed. He was preceded in death by his father, James Wilfred McDonald, mother, Kathrine (Randall) (McDonald) Gregg and his sister, Elaine (McDonald) Straley; brother-in-law, Tom Green. Richard’s family includes his wife of 55 years, Cynthia (DeRemer) McDonald; son, James Ryan and two granddaughters, Caitlyn and Elizabeth; two daughters: Emily McDonald and Trisha (William) Reichert; grandchildren Aidan, Kellen, McKinley and Tatum; a sister, Ann Green. A celebration gathering will be held on September 14th, 2024 at 4 p.m. at the McDonald’s home, 2430 Tarbox Cemetery Rd., Cedarville. Bring a lawn chair as the family gathers to share stories and celebrate Richard’s life. Memorial gifts may be made in his memory to JC Athletic Boosters, 204 South Linden St., Jackson Center, Ohio 45334 or Greene County Sheriffs Office, 120 East Main St., Xenia, Ohio 45385 In care of Greene County Youth Activity Fund

Time Has Come

This year, 2020, I am finally making progress on my idea of compiling all of my blogs into a manuscript.  Eventually, it will be printed and bound.  I'm not sure who really cares, but my need to leave something behind that another might want to read, seems to be driving me.

This has become a major, almost overwhelming project.  I have been trying for two years to get this off the ground and this is the year it will be done.

In doing this I have figured out how save and transfer each blog to my computer, correct the fonts, move paragraphs and then save into a PDF so it can later be transferred to a publisher/printer.

I currently have experimented with a couple online publishing companies.  In doing this I have created three other books already in 2020.  So at this point I have published two "coffee table" books.  They contain 100 photos each, one of my paintings and one of my gourds.  I am very happy with them and feel they are a good compilation of work I have done in the last twenty years.  It is very satisfying to realize how much artwork I have created and it really only touches a small amount the work coming from the Wild Gourd Studio.

The other book was an experiment of publishing online and content is from some of my blogs on horses and other animals on our farm.  It is wonderful, but many things I will correct for the manuscript I am working on now.  The title of this little soft cover book, with twenty five stories is, TRUE HORSE STORIES and other stories from the farm.  

MEMORIES

     This morning, I cleaned around the old computer area.  Oh, the things I found.....  So many notes and papers that may or may not be important today.  I bag for recycled papers, a pile for "keep" and another pile for "find another home".  

     Then it happened, I found the bundles of maps and agendas for our trips out west.  I had thought I might make some photo books from all the beautiful pictures I have stored in my computer and phone.  Of course, I never made time to follow through on that project.  I suddenly realized the books are no longer important.  Who cares about them?  Only me now, I have lost the only other person I could have shared those memories with.  I am the only person to care and to carry those memories.  It is a hard reality when I have to be seventy-five years to find that our experiences are only ours to carry, no one else can understand those memories or even care beyond the polite acknowledgement of your momentary mention of your remembrance.  

     I did save my journal notes, I'm not sure why.  I will probably never read them and basically, they were the daily notes of the miles ridden, towns we stayed, the parks we visited and maybe a good place to eat.  I might actually read them at some point and then throw them away.  Oh well, that's another day.

     I will dry my tears and try to find happiness knowing I have had wonderful memories with a wonderful man, I will relish the sunshine and cooler temperatures.  I will enjoy the happiness my little dogs, Fen and Millie, give to me.

     

A Walk To The Bus

Just having a flashback, brought on by the bright early spring morning we are having.  When we were kids we lived back a very long lane.  Easily a quarter mile long.  We always walked the lane to the bus, the three of us, my brother Brian and Margaret and I.  At the end of the lane sat a small building with windows so we could see the bus coming when it was cold or rainy.  I rarely remember getting a ride to the end of the lane, but maybe on the worst days.

Spring mornings were my favorite for walking to the bus.  It was bright, new, fresh and we wore sweaters instead of winter coats, we carried our books and our lunch boxes.  The sun was glowing and new grass was damp from the morning dew, the birds were singing.  When we were older, we would often ride our bikes to the end of the lane, we'd lay them in the grass along the drive and retrieve them in the afternoon when we were dropped off again.  We never worried that our bikes would be gone, it just didn't happen in the country in those days.

We were the first to get on the bus and the first to be dropped off.  Our ride in the morning was usually about forty minutes long.  I never really minded that, I always sat with the same friend and we were happy with each others company.  I loved our bus driver too, I see him still in my mind, he was always smiling and said, "Good Morning" to everyone that stepped on the bus.  And in the afternoon, he always said, "Good night". 

When I was older, being the first to get on, I would request the job of opening the door for each stop.  It was fun to stand at the front of the bus and be the door person.  I never got the job at night being the first off.  I don't ever remember if my brother or sister got to do this or even if they wanted to, it seemed to be my job. 

One of the other things I remember is going home from school with a friend, all I needed was a note from my Mom to tell the friends bus driver that I had permission.  These days my grandchildren have to get off the same spot every night, no changes allowed.  If they have somewhere else to go they have to be picked up at the school by the parent in charge.  And there is no way they would be allowed to stand at the front of the bus and open the door, they might fall out or something.  Seriously, it is a wonder I have lived as long as I have with all the safety things out there now.  Could I ride my bike to the end of the lane without a helmet, or would my bike be found when I returned in the afternoon? 

It is good to remember the simpler times when we walked our lane on a warm spring morning.