CTR

I couldn't make up a story like this, no matter how creative I think that my mind is.

In the Mormon faith there is the well-known phrase that is symbolized by the three letters known as CTR. You will find Mormons wearing rings, or perhaps a pendant with those three letters on them. From what I understand, these letters stand for the words, 'Choose the right' or, in other words, to live in purity and to try to do the right thing always. The little pieces of jewelry may have gone completely unnoticed by me but for the fact that I once had a Mormon friend that told me about CTR.

Well, last night I was on my way home from work. I pulled up to a stoplight and had to wait because the car ahead of me wanted to make a right turn, but was waiting for the pedestrians to cross the street. Behind me pulled a large flat bed truck. As I waited for the car to make it's right turn, the driver of the flat bed truck swerved angrily to the left and went around the both of us, making an illegal right turn from the center lane at the same time the car ahead of me was turning. I could tell by the way the driver of the truck was controlling his vehicle that he was pretty angry. At any other time that I might be watching something like this, I would have probably said something like, "What an %&^$#!!!!!" But for some reason, the thought that went through my mind was,

" Now that was a WRONG thing to do."

As I drove along the road toward home I was thinking about my thoughts and about things like right and wrong. Then I got to remembering the Mormon phrase of CTR or choose the right. While I am not Mormon, I truly like and appreciate a phrase like CTR and I wish all people would live up to those three words. I vowed there and then, in the privacy of my own Dodge truck on a quiet ride home that no matter how long I remained on this earth that I was going to try and choose the right in all aspects of my life.

I came home and had to do a few things and pretty much put the thoughts behind me as I did some things around the house, before going back down that same street a couple of hours later. As I drove back down the street I pulled up to a traffic light just a few blocks from where I had passed earlier and witnessed that agitated driver. There was one car waiting at the light ahead of me so I had to stop. I couldn't help but notice the personalized license plate on that car. It simply read....

CTRLIFE....or, in other words, CHOOSE THE RIGHT LIFE. I was moved to tears because I knew that this was no coincidence. No meer happinstance. No, this was quite the contrary. I truly feel that this was a Divine message meant for me, an affirmation that I am not alone in the universe, even while facing significant health concerns. I realized that a person doesn't always learn all there is about God and about the 'right' way to live by simply warming a church pew each Sunday. When we open our eyes and open our hearts we will find God's presence and love right where we are! Today and tomorrow and forever, may we all vow to CTRLIFE!

In the valley

Last Friday I went to a place called 'Valley Hospital' here in Las Vegas. What was to be a simple day surgery turned into a five day stay in the hospital and a drive down a lonely road through the valley of the shadow of death for me.

Some of you know that I have not been so well for the last months or couple of years. I suffer from several inflamatory conditions throughout my body. The Drs. do not know what is causing my problems or how to cure them.

Friday I went to the hospital to have a simple procedure to cut off the internal bleeding to my right ankle so that I would not get another ulcer on that ankle. I went to the hospital, processed in and was prepped for surgery. As usual, the IV was put in and vitals taken. And, as usual, my oxegyn level was alittle low so I was given a breathing treatment before being wheeled into the operating room. Once ready to go I was helped to the operating table, both arms strapped out to the side and a mask placed over my mouth to deliver the anastesia.

The next thing I know, I am laying in the recovery room with loud alarms going off around my bed and a very LOUD Phillippino nurse literally YELLING at me to BREATHE. There was mask over my mouth, same as was in the operating room, and the alarms relentless discord vibrating through me. I had a real difficult time coming out of the anastesia. It felt like I was there, yet not there at the same time. I felt incredibly at peace, despite every single inch and volume of chaos around me. I can remember thinking that 'if this is what it would feel like to die, then the experience was far more peaceful and welcoming than anyone could ever imagine'. It felt like I lay there in that peaceful state for quite some time, but eventually they rolled me back into the original preproom where I was prior to the surgery. I was still not all together with it and the breathing alarms would go off every few seconds or so, which brought another nurse to my beside, screaching loudly and telling me to breathe. This nurse even went so far to state, 'If you don't breathe you are going to die!' Yep, she said those words, and even my husband can vouch for that.

I had to be hospitalized and underwent several tests. My hands, wrists, the inside of my arms at my elbows and even my stomach are black and blue for all of the needle jabs in me. Many conditions were eliminated as to what was NOT wrong with me. No blood clots to the lungs. No infection or phenumonia, nothing of the sort. Yet my oxegyn intake was in the very low 80's when it needs to be at least 95.

I am on heavy medications including steroids. I have put myself on the strictest of diets and have about ten new medications to keep track of. I have been sent home with an oxegyn tank, and there is a very strong likelyhood that if the medications do not help the perceived inflamation that has spread to my lungs that I will be dependant on an oxegyn tank for the indefinate future. This will make working difficult if it gets to that point and I may have to go on disability. I pray that the medication works. The steroids elevate the sugar so I have to take more diabetic medication to counteract it.

I feel horrid right now. It was rough to be in the hospital, and I scream in pain when I try to bend my left arm for having an iv in it for five days.

I had an amazing elderly lady in the bed beside me that I want to tell you all about when I feel up to writing about her.

For now I need to rest. Really rest. So that is what I will do today. No one rests in the hospital for all of the noise at night and constant breathing treatments and tests and blood work and needles!

For all I've been through and still facing, I know that there are alot of people far worse off.

I probably won't be online alot for the next few days. I need to heal. I am alive. I have driven down what felt like that solitary road to what could have been death. And as isolating as that journey may have been, it was an experience that I will never forget.