No matter what you do, everything is filled with gloom? You awaken with dark thoughts, telling yourself you are overreacting? Such was a day for me this week -- Friday, to be exact. Checking e-mail early in the morning, I discovered the usual suspect collection of SPAM. Suggestions of ways to 'enlarge my anatomy,' improve my condition of erectile dysfunction, and suggested ways to improve my single social life.
The people who send these collections of SPAM, must be totally clueless. Most of them cannot spell a simple e-mail correctly, and if I needed my anatomy improved, I don't think I'd have a sex change since I am a woman. As for my improving my 'single social life,' I'm not single and I certainly would not attempt to meet people online since I do a great job with meeting people in person. And, let us not discuss erectile dysfunction since modern technology on the TV does a fine job discussing that, especially when young children are around! I ask you, just how do you explain Erectile Dysfunction to a six year old?
After deleting all of these endless e-mails, I practiced deep breathing and Yoga techniques, telling myself I was tired and needed to relax. I drove to the gym to work out my frustrations, convinced that if I allowed my body to work out the darkness would leave.
It did not.
Arriving at home, my children (my three affectionate pups) rushed to greet me and let me know they wanted to take a walk. When I recognized the darkness was still thumping inside me, I grabbed my 'puppy bags and papers,' leashed the pups and rushed outside to walk. It was chilly outside so I chose to lead the dogs into a different direction. Inhaling and exhaling while noticing Jasmine, tulip trees and azaleas blooming -- in early January, I shook my head. Signs of freshness and new life are around me, I thought. It's OK. Everything is A-O-K. Nothing to be alarmed about.
Later in the afternoon, with the darkness dancing around like a gray cloud of fog, I still could not shake the feeling. I went to my favorite window to have a chat with God, pleading with Him to shake the feeling away.
Since early childhood I've had visions of doom so when I have these feelings I listen to them. The last two I can remember that refused to leave was at 3:45 am on July 6, 1999, and in the early morning hours of 9-11. My dad was terminally ill with esophageal cancer on that July morning and not expected to live much longer. When I awoke to that sick feeling gnawing inside of me, I chose to ignore it, thinking if I called the nursing home to ask about his condition at this early time of morning, the nurses would think I was losing my mind.
I went to work on that date and could not tell anyone what I did at work. I was numb inside while the gloom draped me with a fear I could not escape. At 5:45 pm I arrived at Sandpiper Convalescent Center, excited to see my father. He would be proud of me. I had balanced his personal check book the night before and I had it in my hand, ready to share with him.
Rushing by the nurses desk, I nodded, speaking to the charge nurse on duty. I noticed Violet, my dad's favorite nurse, pushing an oxygen tank. "That isn't a good sign," I said to her. She would not acknowledge me and was following me. I didn't understand why she didn't speak, until she placed her hand on the doorway of my dad's room.
"No...No...Oh God, No." My voice screamed as the door closed and Violet pushed me away from the door. I dropped the check book on the floor. I heard Violet asking someone in the hall to take me somewhere. A stranger, a medium sized woman with a soft voice and face I cannot remember approached me, picked up the check book and encouraged me to join her on the bench in the hallway.
Now I knew why the gloom would not leave me on this date. The visions I knew so well were a sign -- a warning that something bad was going to happen. Moments later, my dad was pronounced dead. The heaviness in my chest lifted when my husband arrived to take me home.
Early morning of 9-11 I had a brief dream of a plane crash and some men dressed in black. I brushed it off. A nightmare, I said.
Friday was different. I checked with friends and family members to make certain everything was OK. Phil was scheduled to come home early on that date and I knew he was all right. I'd spoken to him at least a couple of times, hoping my voice did not give my fears away.
At 2:52 pm the phone rang. My dearest friend was on the line and when I answered, I heard her sobs.
"I have some bad news," she said.
Immediately, my mind rushed with thoughts of another friend we both knew who had been battling esophageal cancer and was riding the cancer roller coaster ride again.
"My brother-in-law is gone," her voice quivered. "He died this morning, when he was dismissed from the hospital. He got home, said he couldn't breathe, and he tilted over. Dead."
I was in shock. Only yesterday we had discussed his heart surgery procedure and how great he was doing. Only yesterday we shared intimate stories of husband's and male bashing, laughing like two innocent school girls. Only yesterday we laughed nervously just to release the tension.
Now, another life was gone, just like in the blink of an eye. Life is so short, isn't it.
Moments later, I hung up the phone, recognizing the gloom had lifted and now, I knew why. My visions were back. I must listen to these signs because they are warning signs to let me know something is happening. Just like on July 6, 1999 and on 9-11-01 in the early - early darkness of morning - when I had that warning dream of plane crashes and men dressed in dark clothing. The pieces of a puzzle dancing inside my mind, warning me of something suspect.
When Phil arrived home, I rushed to him. He followed me to the den. Sitting on the plush carpeting of the floor, we played with our pups while talking about how quickly life can change. "Only yesterday I laughed with Lou, telling her it would be OK. Modern medicine has come a long way. Phil, we are so fortunate. We've been blessed with a second chance. Let's don't lose it this time."
My husband wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. The warmth of his body next to mine gave me such comfort and I realized, the feeling of gloom was completely gone.
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