Thursday, April 30, 2009
Since handing over my manuscript to the journalist, I have spent every hour I can going over and over the 200 plus pages. Every time I do I find more mistakes, and every time I correct them or make a sentence stronger or clearer, I am forced to relive what was done to Don.
Some of you know, but apart from Don who only has my voice to record, I am the only one who knows just how monstrous it was. People who know just the bit you can explain are horrified and sometimes unbelieving. But I carry within me the whole of what I know was done to him, and imagine how much worse it would have been when I was not there. Some mornings he was in absolute terror and would not let certain people touch him...others he was fine with.
The last time I was with Melissa she took me into her bedroom and told me about a picture she had bought. As she turned it round I knew exactly why she had stopped in the street. Poor kid. She said to me this picture was "how Dad felt inside all those five weeks." Its by Michelangelo. The face has a mix of horror, anger, desperation, pain, disbelief...an on and on.
The manuscript will be published and should you read it, the sad thing is you may wish you never did. I know now why he was forcibly kept alive. the big $$$$ are Research, and any abuse justifies this they think.
So on Wednesday I was in a particularly dark part of the manuscript, and I wrote this,
"Sometimes as I rewrite and re edit this I wonder can I go on with this. The sun shines outside, and there is a tinge of cool in the air. I persevere because until I expose what happened to Don, I can not walk in the sunshine, not be lighthearted, nor have any sort of life at all. The damage inside me is deep but I know and have faith that out of what I am going through, and out of what Don was put through something really good will emerge, and that if there is the will there, things may improve just a bit. I don’t have a choice but to keep going, to see this through. To turn away now would be to condemn myself to only half a life and I know that it would be this which would break my wonderful Don’s heart. I know he would want me to live, to walk in the sunshine, to be happy again. But sometimes when the spirit is weakened by reliving it is so hard. I have to remind myself how strong I am, how wonderful our family was and will be again. I know that by persevering, I can begin the healing for not only myself but for our daughters."
I found myself outside in the late afternoon sun after writing this and I was just sobbing outloud, because it has been the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, reliving over and over so as to make it readable for others...clear for others, enabling it to be published. I was dragging branches to the big pile in the middle of the paddock, for burning in winter...practical life goes on. It was just so achingly beautiful all round me that I lost it again...but found it in double quick time when in amongst the branches was the largest blackest red belied Black Snake, sunning himself in the last rays of the sun. He was as thick as my wrist...I can tell you I walked the acre back to the house, very quietly and for much of the way backwards. Not a tear to be seen.... nor a sob to be heard..needs musy.
Sometimes wonder if Don might have a thing or two to do with events which bring me out of tears...but then again could have just been a snake... he'd be perverse enough to make me wake up to myself this way...
Don't worry that I am depressed by all of this...most of the time I am okay, interested in the girls' lives, their relationships, in the lives of my sisters, and friends, and you lot...but as I get closer to finishing the editing and the manuscript gets stronger, that part of it, the remembering things half forgotten takes some can just overwhelm me.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Remember that "job" you were considering...you know the one off the coast of Australia...the dream job... well my friend Dorothy has a son who applied for the job...even with his brief underwear he hasn't got the call back...what did you send him...? A bikini did not work in this instance...begorrah and bedlam...wonder who he chose!
Friday, April 24, 2009
At least the German Government is honest enough to admit they use Chemtrails, even though admitting hasn't stopped them.
what…started out a beautiful day early…then telltale sore throat and tightness in chest, cough.
Others in Port Macquarie are seeing and feeling the same. http://www.bluenomore.com/
and Major Rudy of course
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
(not Cous Cous) very important.
As the weather cools she is brilliant at finding the sun. I have a row of about 12 photos on this shelf and daily she picks her way up there and never disturbs one. She seems to like to nudge the bottom of a sun catching wind chime we have there...Alison gave it to don some time back. She is the sweetest cat...with enough of the devil cat to make her interesting and unpredictable.
Having another living creature (apart from the huge rats which come up from the creek) in the house makes such a difference. You know they are there and come together when you feel like it.
I will always miss the wonderfully handsome doggie Thorn, and one day when I feel the need will find another Kelpie...but I have been coming and going too much to do justice to a doggie. cats are more independent and I like that as well.
Its been raining for ages now...almost daily...the ground can't take anymore...it will stop one day no doubt...but I feel like I am living amongst greens as green as any in Ireland.
Its amazingly beautiful hereabouts right now...the cows seem to like the rain...I know the ducks do. frogs all about...kangaroos becoming tamer...I love it.
A bit lonely, but not for people really, just for what was.
My youngest had to have a biopsy done after a large lump was found in her breast recently. I haven't really been focused on much at all since then. We find out on Friday that it is benign...it will be because I asked for this as i walked down the path...this is my praying place...and as mentioned i can ask out loud and in my own language...and no neighbours to see.
She has had such a struggle to regain health, for almost all her 20's...so please hold my lovely one in your thoughts. So much of her young years just battling to have some sort of life...and in the past few years it has begun to turn around for her...she has put a huge effort into her own condition. very pragmatic and brave, she says not to worry and so I won't worry her...but inside my heart, I can't help be terribly frightened and have to hope that the luck in our family has turned.
I know it doesn't work like this, i know because bad things have happened it doesn't protect you from other bad things... I know life is not fair and i accept that god does not do this stuff...we live in a sea for people exercising free will and thats what makes good and bad things happen.
I know that what is important is how we act inside events which overwhelm us..am just hoping for the best news possible on Friday.
Roll on 1984...I would never pass the sorts of tests the seat shining boffins who have nothing better to do but to sticky beak into our private lives would devise. Baring emotional or physical abuse no one has the right to take our children away from us...but in the US now, they can unless you pass one of their tests...read the links and if this pisses you off be loud about it...this sort of poison will flow out to the rest of the world if allowed to become the way to go in the US.
HR20-New Mother's Mandated Mental Health Test-JUST PASSED HOUSE!
antilib Yesterday at 2:17 am
A sweeping government policy for all new births in the United States has just passed the House of Representatives and is now headed to the Senate. The Mother's Act, if passed, will mandate that all new mothers be screened by means of a list of subjective questions that will determine if each mother is mentally fit to take their newborn home from the hospital. Just imagine that after your child is born, you are told that you can't take them home since a multiple choice questionnaire wasn't answered correctly. Just imagine being told that the only way you can take your child home is if you or your spouse goes into treatment or on anti-depressants which we know causes psychosis, delusions, and even homocidal thoughts. It just doesn't make sense. Unfortunately, this bill is on a fast track--No public debate, no public disclosure of the broad impact on our society and that is why we need you to act now!The Mother's Act violates our Constitutional right to privacy and your right to liberty and it is just outright dangerous. That is why we need you to help stop this. We urgently need you to call and email each Senator on the HELP Committee and tell them you STRONGLY OPPOSE the MOTHER'S ACT and that you are OUTRAGED that there was NO public debate or disclosure on the impact this would have on our society as a whole.Send a letter by going here:
Please call the following Senators on the HELP Committee and tell them that you want the Mother's Act to die in committee.Lisa Murkowski, R: 202-224-6665, AKJohn McCain, R: 202-224-2235, AZChristopher Dodd, D: 202-224-2823, CTJohnny Isakson, R: 202-224-3643, GATom Harkin, D: 202-224-3254, IAPat Roberts, R: 202-224-4774, KSEdward Kennedy D: 202-224-4543, MABarbara Mikulski D: 202-224-4654, MDRichard Burr, R: 202-224-3154, NCKay Hagan, D: 202-224-6342, NCJudd Gregg, R: 202-224-3324, NHJeff Bingaman, D: 202-224-5521, NMSherrod Brown, D 202-224-2315, OHTom Coburn, R 202-224-5754, OKJeff Merkley, D 202-224-3753, ORBob Casey, D 202-224-6324, PAJack Reed, D 202-224-4642, RILamar Alexander R 202-224-4944, TNOrrin Hatch R 202-224-5251, UTBernard Sanders, I: 202-224-5141, VTPatty Murray, D, 202-224-2621, WAMichael Enzi, R, 202-224-3424, WYThank you so much for caring enough to call and take action! Remember "We The People" are in charge!Respectfully,Sheila MatthewsCofounder www.ablechild.org
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sara's blogs I have been blogging with sara for about three years now.
he is just a kid but a returned Vet from Afghanistan...so no kid at all i guess. She's good fun...right now she is traveling in Europe so the second of these blogs is what she is using. At home (when the trip is over) she will use the "o they don't exist" one... the earlier one "no accuser is reasonably inactive...say hello to Sara and enjoy her european trip okay.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Foxymoron's blog inspired this tale... she was posting about a day she spent with her kids going on a picnic and just following their noses....
It reminded me of a day our family came to call "the long drive picnic." We drove up into the mountains west of Port Macquarie...in mid summer (Que???) and we spent the time looking for a way to get off the road and to the rivers and creeks...okay for us but none were wheelchair accessible. We broke down outside the Long Flat pub and the Bikers all came out and got us going again... after meandering about down gravel roads and in and out the bush, we gave up trying to find a place where we could all get near the water for our picnic. We drove all the way back to Port Macquarie...to the picnic area near the North Shore ferry, only ten mins from home...thats why they called it the long drive picnic... it was great fun and the kids were highly amused...I remember finally turning into the picnic area at Port Macquarie, close to where we had set off from and the old Kombi van was sheer rocking with laughter at our predicament. The kids were great...no way did they want to enjoy their picnic unless don could also get in under the shade or near the water... it was lovely and we all remember it vividly.
The girls were about 14 and 11. Don was 38 and me about 34...so long ago but as i write this it seems like it just happened...in another world.
Some of you will know i have been working on a manuscript, about the dreadful treatment and death of my husband Don...my reasons are about justice and so that things might change...especially attitudes to disabled people...which are in the dark ages in our hospital system.
I finished the first write last September and had no idea of the task I had set for myself. It has had many rewrites by me, and apart from one bad so called editor, I have been fortunate to have three people edit the manuscript, each adding to it and showing me better ways to write. Nicki Taylor, Charlie's wife was the second of these and she did a wonderful job.
The hardest thing is to find a publisher, being an unknown...hard enough if its a story, but non fiction and on such a subject which in my case amounts to an expose of bad research, brutalisation, denial of human rights, mistakes, neglect and what I feel was an unlawful death, well publishers are not all that willing to read it and seem to be overwhelmed with stories and other.
I was walking down the path yesterday afternoon talking aloud to myself...you can get away with that if you life out of town...I'll just have to remember not to do it in town... (mad old woman stuff)... I just said out loud, where on earth am i going to find a bloody publisher who will be willing to read the whole thing?
I was feeling desperate...self publishing on such a subject is really risky due to the willingness of doctors to sue...them being more litigious than ordinary people.
Half an hour later I had a phone call from a long time friend of mine in Newcastle (NSW). She has a friend who worked as a Fleet Street Journalist, and who has a disabled son. She was telling her about my manuscript, which she (my friend) had just finished reading and how it had to be published, and how powerful it was.
This journalist writes for a major Australian paper now, freelance and has had many articles published around medical care and disabled etc.
My friend put me in touch with the journalist and she asked me to sent the whole manuscript to her as she wanted to read it. I was up till the wee small hours tiding it up, adding photos, a timeline, a synopsis etc.
Its on its way to her and I can only hope. I know that were someone to read it as it is now, not as it was months ago, filled with anger and "may they rot in hell...a curse on all their houses" stuff it will be realised that the manuscript is a tool for change as well as an expose.
My last editor showed me how to change things i had in there which i thought were okay...and she got me to not tell what happened so much as "show" but description of events what happened. This has made it so much better.
So, here is hoping. Nothing ventured nothing gained. Its just so odd how it all came about...
Saturday, April 18, 2009
A freind of mine, a very brave woman and a born crusader has made the following videos which need to be watched.
This is her website and well worth a look
But take the time first to watch her story...this condition is overwhelming more and more of us, especially the young. It is a world wide tragedy. Something I am learning more about as both my girls have had problems here but thank god not as bad as this woman's son. Sje is Queensland based.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
If you have never seen his series Black Books just type in his name and Black Books... Its brilliant... I can't put one of the you tube videos on here as embedding has been disabled... enjoy this bit of a send up on Aussies anyway.
My apologies to those who have asked me to make contact when I visit Melbourne... one day I will, but my time with my kids is so short, we spend it all together. I can not really stay away for longer than a week, as this place of mine takes a power of work to maintain..and I love it, so its not tying me down. This time in between some very painful varicose vein treatments...(the doc said to make sure I walk two hours a day as it helps healing) we went to the Melbourne botanical gardens again. This place is magnificent and only half an hour away by foot from my daughter's flat.
She told me that we had only gotten around about a quarter of it...and I was amazed at the size of the place in the middle of a city. I am easily impressed as I have only ever really travelled in my head... but oh the places i have been there are amazing.
This lake had the black swans on it...if you click on the photo they are clearer.
This is my youngest amongst some flowers..I did read but can't recall what they are.
I had to put this one in...my two kids are two of the best and most decent people I have ever known...not to say there isn't enough of the devil in them to make sure they are good fun and shit stir quite a bit...
Their dad was the master shit stirrer.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Saturday, April 04, 2009
The new planetoid approaching this belt is smooth and spherical. It sails serenely through the blackness. It dreams a thoughtless dream as it rolls along in its absolute innocence and total ignorance. Seeming perfect. As it approaches the asteroid belt,
it wakes up slowly to the dangers. In its mind it calls to its parent Sun for help, but in its young gameness it has already wandered too far away, for the parental gravity to call it back. The little sparsely scattered rocks of the asteroid begin to chip
away at its pure surface. Its surface becomes pock-marked, and its regular rolling, less regular.
Well into the asteroid belt, the larger rocks begin to explode onto its surface, and cracks form. From some of the cracks light emerges. From others, crawl all manner of darkness. The balance is being struck. Its atmosphere is filled with the dust of its
sorrow, and it begins to lurch and roll dangerously, trying to consciously steer a course towards a space between the rocks. The old and battered planet carries its baggage like a 'Bag Lady' ploughing her way up a crowded city street, head down and
avoiding all eyes.
As the planet wobbles its way through the enormous belt, the asteroids become fewer and smaller. It hardly notices the millions of little collisions that occur through the millennia of its travels. The knocks become less hurtful and the planet begins
to forget the suffering and begins to dream again, this time without innocence and without ignorance. It laughs and rumbles with mirth at many centuries of life in the belt.
Now the vastness of space can be seen again, becoming rich with mystery. Peace and wisdom grow in the planet and it begins to roll evenly again, but now with a difference. Now it is the most beautiful planet imaginable. It carries a halo of
light-reflecting particles, tossed up around it by all the impacts. Those last small rocks which besieged the planet, sculptured it and it is now spherical again, after all this time. It gives out its own light now, and appears like an angel in the dreams of young planetoids waiting to be born.
Life is like this, I believe. Some people never pass through the asteroid belt. It seems to others that they are the lucky ones but I'm not so sure in the long run, although it must be nice to reach the end of life without losing innocence. Some people see
the asteroid belt coming and make adjustments to avoid it, weaving and dodging, only to be fall into an unseen black hole and get sucked into a long string of nothingness. Others refuse to begin rolling and remain innocent and ignorant, impersonating perfection. Whether it takes all sorts to make a world or not, the majority of us end up in the asteroid belt, being sculptured by our sorrows and joys, savouring empty spaces we call peace.
(These photos were taken about five years after I wrote this - but it was such a silly day itworks for me in here)
I'm right in the middle of the asteroid belt now, and I pray that
none of the rocks that smash into me will be too big to handle.
The title of my story " Roaring With Delight", describes how I
feel inside much of the time. Life is really funny, along with all the unbelievable sorrow and suffering, the world is a very funny place. Often I am aware of the 'roaring' feel of life. Its like being on a huge water slide unable to control your descent, but most of all I feel like that planet, plunging through aeons of collisions in the crowded spaces in the asteroid belt, having breathers in the stillness of the spaces in between.
At forty one, and at this moment today, I feel good about the
life I am about to describe. I would like to make it right
through the asteroid belt, so I too can roll smoothly, trailing
my halo. Ha! I also hope that this emergence from the turbulence
doesn't happen for at least another forty years. I am much too rough headed yet to roll smoothly, and I quite like it here
amongst the other rough headed ones. I keep telling God this and hope it carries weight.
There is a big drawback in writing your own story, when most people you know are still alive, and may choose to be hurt. I would most certainly be hurt myself if I were to be presenting a totally graphic account. The best bits often have to be left out.
The things you got away with unscathed, have to be put on hold, to protect the guilty, and some of us could be pretty guilty of minor anarchy, in the public interest, of course. I might just have to put in a sealed section called 'Naughty Bits'. Next time
perhaps, when I am eighty.