Did you Say Go West? (chp. 3) Art and Play

Creativity abound

Of all the places I see, large and small, town or cites I never tire of the wonderful and creative ideas people present to the world.

“Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures”-Henry Ward Beecher 

It could be an exceptional business or a quirky idea that someone conceived and proved that it could work. Tinkertopia is that business. Located at 1914 Pacific Ave. Tacoma, WA, this was an idea born out of creativity, Launched almost a year ago as a Space Work Tacoma project, designed to match creative endeavors and artists with a storefront business that has been vacant for a while.

Tinkertopia shares the same sidewalk as the University of Tacoma on Pacific Ave. who decided to take a chance to see if the idea would work. The team consists of Darcy, a teacher with an early childhood and Montessori background and her husband, RR Anderson, a political cartoonist. They decided to put their artistic talents to great use and began to pull their vision together.

Darcy

What do you do with sustainable raw material that everyone else sees as trash? You find a way to recycle it to works of art. It began with a year of salvaging from design and architect firms. People gave things away. For example, 1940 wood bowling ball pins, by the carload. Even artists contributed unused paints and canvas. All of this would be done without the guarantee that they would meet the committee’s approval.

Then one year later on July 17, 2013, they were granted their own piece of the rock. The Space Works project assisted the couple in planning, organizing, marketing and finances. They gave Darcy and RR the expertise and training that a business major would know but an artist would not. Soon the community; consisting of teachers and families with children, began to rally and support this new establishment.

Tinkertopia offers basic, simple skill workshops not only for children but adults also. You can hold parties for birthdays or grown-ups who want a little free time to release the stress of everyday life and return to the child within. Darcy says, “When you are allowed to play, creativity comes through.” (www.tinkertopia.com)

Never ending possibilities

Grab a bag and go!

Think and create

How’s my wrap?

It’s a treasure

The unusual

Bare naked bodies

Did You Say Go West? (Chp.1)

“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind”

With the sun in my eyes.

There is a time when restlessness determines a new direction in one’s life. For me, it this is a constant. The more I feel boxed in, the further I want to fly. So with the washing away of  winter and smell and sounds of spring, it is time to flee.

     This time the road calls for me to move westward and not necessarily to California. This will be an interesting trip as I follow main highway arteries to familiar places and the surprise of something new. I love the path that is less traveled. I find enjoyment in taking a right instead of a left to a town I’ve never heard of before. Sometimes I’m welcomed and other times, well, lets just say I know when its time to leave. As usual, I have packed my bags in advance and hitched up the wagon with food and supplies to parts unknown as I travel westward. The camera batteries have been charged up and ready for photo sharing.

     So sing along with me, “Life is a highway, I want to ride it all night long…” (Tom Cochrane)

No! Not that button…Pookie!

“Good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement”-Rita Mae Brown, Alma Mater

     It is through a mistake that we learn our greatest lessons. Indeed, I have learned mine. Friends don’t let friends touch their computers. 

Don’t do it!

     It’s a harsh thing to say but a necessary one. Almost two weeks ago, I allowed my co-worker, who was visiting at my home, to use my laptop. I will admit that I was a bit uneasy about the idea, but I allowed it. Later that day, she mentioned that I had a lot of pop-ups on my screen. I didn’t really get the jest of what she meant when she said she had tried to clean it up. It wasn’t until later that evening when I turned on my computer and attempted to use my websites that the trouble began. 

    First, there was a broom that pretended to sweep the pages. Then a hand popped up and a knife jutted between the fingers. The screen seemed to have a life of its own as other things appeared and then a big red X with a warning flashed. My stomach cringed when the reality of what she had done came to life. It had been hit with a virus.

    “Not me,” I thought. “I’m just a speck in the cosmos. Not a big wig ball player, movie star, a big name television celebrity nor a computer wiz.” Why did the virus have to hit me, the two-hundred thousandth person on the planet? My second thought was to choke my soon to be ex-co-worker! I raised her name to the heavens wishing a plaque of locusts and bees upon her. In the meantime, I had to get my laptop into the computer hospital right away.

    I researched the internet and found a place that boasted rave reviews about their work. I took it into their store on a Friday and was told that the soonest they could touch it would be Monday. That day came and went without a call, update or that they were running behind schedule. On Tuesday I called the store and was told by one of the guys, “Oh, I was going to work on it today.” In my world, you don’t get another chance to mess up. I picked up my baby (computer) and off we went in search of another healer.

    Thanks to my son, he located a place called Green PC, at 3627 S. 54th St., Tacoma, WA. These are the guys that when you were growing up, always played with the electronic gadgets in the garage, or could beat you at video games. Don’t expect a fancy building or prim pressed uniforms when you arrive at this place. What you will find are some really cool cats, (yes, I went there) with some massive brain power.

     They took baby under their wings, said it will be ready by Friday at the latest as I waved goodbye. She was going under the knife and I was not allowed into the ward. When I returned on Saturday, due to time constraints on my part, they walked over, pulled her off the shelve and handed her back to me. As I turned it on to make sure she wasn’t suffering from shock or memory loss, I also received some computer teaching; what to watch for in terms of virus detection, software to use, etc.

     So to the guys at Green PC I want to send this shout out to you. Thank you for your fast, friendly, reliable and knowledgeable staff. You kept your word and baby and I appreciate it. Because of you I can post my stories and work on my next romance novel without weird things coming after me. You will be the first place I run to with all my computer needs. You proved to me that you are the best.

The Party’s Over

“Your body hears everything your mind says”-Naomi Judd

 

The fun stops here

Recently I experienced something that all healthcare workers should go through; the simple act of being a patient.

On Monday, March 10^th I had completed a twelve-hour shift. Due to the illness of a co-worker, I stayed over to help with a third shift turnover. Once things were calm, I returned to my home and had dinner around 8-8:30, relaxing in the knowledge that I would be off the next day to work on chapter 20 of my second book.

At 11:30 that evening, my stomach felt as though someone was doing a dumpster dive in my gut. The pain felt as though long claws were tearing at my flesh. (No exaggeration) I tried to reposition myself to my right side but that only increased the pains intensity along with breathing difficulty. When I lay on my back it felt as if I were suffocating.

After two hours, I got out of bed and took something for indigestion and tried to put the matter out of my head. For ten hours the discomfort intensified coupled with increased weakness. I had no choice and immediately went to Shawnee Mission Medical Center the morning of March 11th.

Under normal circumstances I have a high pain tolerance but it was being eroded away with each passing minute. Once I settled on the hospital gurney and the ER physician Dr. Cross walked in, I did what the song from the movie, Frozen said, “Let it Go.” Yes, I let the tears flow from the pain I held in.

The doctor’s kindness and gentle disposition went right to work as she ordered IV fluids, morphine and sonograms to decide the culprit of my discomfort. My ER nurse, Jodi, explained everything as she proceeded with my care. She was expert in placing my IV, drawing labs and medicating me for comfort. Jodi pulled the bed rails up not only for safety reasons but for the fear that I would dance a jig in my room due to the relief of pain I felt from the morphine.

Even the technician that performed my sonogram (sorry I can’t remember your name) carried herself professionally. She was concerned for my comfort level as she expertly went about her work.

Once it was determined that gallstones were blocking the neck of the gallbladder, an effective decision by Dr. Cross to move forward with surgery was made for that afternoon. To be honest, I really wanted to leave this world with all my body parts but I guess that was not to be. Without delay I was added to the surgical schedule and a patient room was found and upstairs I went for preparation.

I thought the caring would end at the ER but I was wrong. The treatment I received only increased tenfold. My nurse Teresa and her assistant Luz quickly went to work. I changed into the famous patient gown, Luz helped me with my sexy hospital white TED hose as I answered pertinent questions for admission.

The next person to enter my room was the surgeon, Dr. Carlo Jurani, M.D., F.A.C.S. His gentleness and patience provided the calm I needed in the madness of everything that had taken place in the past five hours. He introduced himself while handing me his business card then explained slowly what he planned to do. He demonstrated on my midsection were the incisions would be made and then placed his initials in the area that would be worked on. “Now everyone knows where we will go,” he said with a smile. Afterwards he answered questions, relived any doubt and made sure my son understood all that would happen.

Not once in his demeanor nor speech did I feel like an item or ‘another body’ for the surgical table. My fears he understood and took comfort in making sure they were arrested before he said that he would see me downstairs.

I arrived in the pre-op holding area and any and every one that was involved in my care showed the same politeness, caring and gentleness that I received upstairs. I thought to myself that I must be dreaming.

I told the operating room staff, “Thank you for caring for me,” since there would be no chance later, and then the light turned to darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the recovery room and my nurse was calling my name. She asked about my pain and reminded me that it was being controlled. Later, I returned to my room were Teresa and Luz continued their careful watch over me. I never had to want for anything because every hour they were there.

As one hour moved into the next, another team took over, JoAnne and Kelly, but the care never ended. Throughout the night they checked on me and again made sure my pain remained low. I attempted to draft part of chapter twenty and did well until my body said otherwise and back to sleep I went.

Somehow Wednesday made its way into my life and with it Carrie and Luz entered my room to take up their caretaker duties. They assisted with my trips to the bathroom and restlessness brought on by anesthesia and the gas used during my procedure. Dr. Jurani arrived late in the afternoon and chatted with me explaining the results of the surgery. His bedside manner is exceptional.

Shawnee Mission Medical Center’s motto is, “Much more than medicine” and it is so true. My pain management was always forefront from the doctor to the staff. Assistance was always available within a matter of minutes when and if I needed it. Consideration and politeness was always given, like knocking on my door before entering. My room was always neat.

The manager of the unit, Shannon Brisendine, took time from her busy schedule to make sure things operated as they should with the biggest concern regarding pain management. My 48 hour adventure as a patient exposed to pain, modesty and a surprise surgical procedure was soon ending.

The one thing I did not have to ask for and got was respect as a person, concern for my well-being and care as a human being. So here is my Shout Out and a Big Thank you to the staff at Shawnee Mission Medical Center: In the ER-Jodi, Dr. Cross and the X-ray technician. The second floor staff for 225-Ms. S. Brisendine, Teresa, Luz, Carrie, Kelly, JoAnne, Norma (my discharge nurse), the surgical team, Dr. C. Jurani and my recovery room nurse. If I’ve forgotten anyone, it was not intentional and I thank you.

As a side note, I returned to work five days post op, and I’ve changed my diet and eating habits.

I’m Through With Santa!

“Santa Claus has the right idea-visit people only once a year”-Victor Borge

A White Christmas

I’m just a little miffed with Santa Claus. I have been so good, never once being placed on the naughty list. I will admit that I’ve had some close calls at being bad, but they weren’t my fault. You know what they say about temptation…

The Beginning of my Heartbreak

Now don’t get me wrong, we had a white Christmas, which was all well and good. The weather wasn’t at all frightful nor did I slip on any left over ice from the previous storm and bust my butt. To make sure that the jolly old guy in the red suit could find my tree, I put up five, yes, five Christmas trees of various heights and decorated in different themes. I feel that a person who puts in so much work deserves her special request.

To make matters worse, I even tracked Saint Nick on the morning, afternoon and evening news. When announcements blasted that he was in Rome, then Paris I knew I had time to prepare his favorite, Toll House cookies, that would greet him when he came down the chimney. Then the weatherman said, “Santa has entered Canadian air space and being guided by jet planes so that no harm would come to him,” I cheered.

English: Thomas Nast’s most famous drawing, “Merry Old Santa Claus”, from the January 1, 1881 edition of Harper’s Weekly. Thomas Nast immortalized Santa Claus’ current look with an initial illustration in an 1863 issue of Harper’s Weekly, as part of a large illustration titled “A Christmas Furlough” in which Nast set aside his regular news and political coverage to do a Santa Claus drawing. The popularity of that image prompted him to create another illustration in 1881. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Anticipation  

Late in the evening, around ten-thirty, the word was out. “Santa is in the Kansas City area. He is circling and cannot land until all children are in bed.” I turned off the T.V. and ran to my bed. The next morning, I bounded down the stairs, expecting to see my one and only request under the tree.

For five years I’ve asked for one thing, a man. I’ve written specific instructions to Santa. Make him tall, five-eight to six foot even, handsome, a working man who pays his bills on time and give him a dash of sexiness. A sense of humor, a desire to travel and a deep abiding love for me were just the extras on the side of my main meal. I checked all five trees and not a foot, a hand, a leg nor a hairy chest did I find. I even checked the chimney just in case he got stuck. I looked in the front and back yard. I even asked the sparrows that I feed if they had seen him and all they did was chirp at me.

The End

I hate to put Santa down like that, but he did not deliver. I even called the island of Misfit Toys and they said no human being had been left there. So, I’m finished with Santa. After five years I’ve torn up my lists, closed off the chimney and called it quits.  Thanks for breaking my heart again. Love, Peace and a Happy New Year to you, old Saint Nick. (All photos by L. Johnson)