This is a draft that Ruth had not published, she intended to but did not get to do so.

On four-twenty 2017, I was taking a walk in a park with a friend. We were whining mightily about Trump [I blame him for all of this and for everything else, too] when suddenly I started slurring my words very badly. Then I collapsed onto the dirt trail. Millions? billions? of neurons in my brain were dying at that moment.

I awoke in the ER with doctors hovering over me asking me ad nauseum to perform tests like counting and asking if I felt a doc’s pokes all over with a cold pointy metal instrument, I did. I think I transitioned right there from always feeling too hot all the time feeling too cold.

Later, I read in my med recs that the doc pinched my left leg and I reacted but I didn’t react when he pinched my left arm. I am hemiplegic[half the body paralyzed] on my left side. I can “walk” now with a quad cane but it’s going to take a long time before I have a normal gait.I’m going to do it tho, I have to get back on hiking trails, my passion. My left arm and hand remain paralyzed, but I’m still working on them.

I had an ischemic stroke[resulting from a blood clot in the brain starving neurons of oxygen]  I had a blood clot in my middle cerebral artery][ischemic versus hemorrhagic stroke which result from a bleed in the brain, like,e. g. a burst aneurysm ], unleashing a blood flood drowning neurons but  in mycase the doctors couldn’t find the clot on my MRI or CAT scan, so they decided not to give me the miracle drug, tPA, which is a powerful clot buster and rescues all those dying neurons

That was because a small bleed showed up on the MRI where I have a brain anomaly called a cavernous malformation which is basically a cluster of veins. It is susceptible to bleeding. The doctors worried that the drug might cause another much more serious bleed there.

OK, Fair enough. tPA is a powerful blood thinner. I keep wondering tho what I’d be like now if I’d had the drug. The one benefit of the stroke was the gratitude I felt for and joy I felt from all my fantastic friends, feeling the love pour into me. I was in the ICU about two weeks then transferred to the IRU [In-patient Rehabilitation Unit] where I stayed a month and had the best therapists I’ve had on this recovery journey, my PT Physical Therapist[responsible for the leg and foot] had me up and walking right away, Even now I can hardly believe that. I felt my left leg was paralyzed. I couldn’t move it at all or wiggle my toes. I had 3 hrs of therapy a day there 5 days a week.

The first sign that my leg would recover is that after hours of trying, I managed to lift my left foot very slightly off the bed. Such euphoria!

Kevin hacked my room’s TV and put ROKU on it. At first, I thought great, I’ll catch up on House of Cards but I couldn’t understand it so I gave up on that. I think one of the cruelest parts of the stroke was how it affected my mind at first. Everything was unclear and confusing, loud sounds were unbearable. Life was like looking out a filthy windshield and trying to drive. Horrible.

And, of course, I was terrified at the dawning realization that I had completely lost the use of my left hand and arm, and had serious problems affecting the use of my leg, thus seriously affecting almost all the activities that make me me, first and foremost hiking, working on and  making my house and garden beautiful, and having dinner parties. I could no longer do English cryptic crossword puzzles. Which pre-stroke, I was doing on a daily basis. So frustrating. I couldn’t do my multiplication tables or remember my address or phone number. It was horrid and depressing and scary as hell.

My speech wasn’t badly affected, thank you stroke deities in the ether. I can’t imagine what it would be like not to be able to communicate. A lot of stroke victims forget how to talk or everything they say comes out as mush, this is called aphasia. Apparently, friends had massive difficulty understanding me at first and I had an hour a day of speech therapy MtF. I couldn’t even hold my head up off the pillow.

I also had OT 5 times a week, Occupational Therapy, daily living skills, like dressing and showering, cooking and cleaning. I’ve learned how to put on my bra with only one hand! it involves the use of an essential tool, a plastic closure clip for say a bag of potato chips. OTs also focuses on rehabilitation of the arm and hand.

Another problem I had was that I couldn’t swallow food or liquids, at all, I had minor surgery for the installation of a feeding tube. The wretched experience of “eating” this way led me later when I got home to get a Physician’s Order ( A  POLST), an order for paramedics that if I’m unable to eat or breathe, I cannot be intubated for any reason. Not another tube pour moi, if I am dropping the body, let it drop. I do not want to go thru that again. I’m so grateful Kevin understands this and concurs.

My beloved son, Jake, and daughter-in-law, Logan, were living in Antigua, Guatemala, where Kevin and I had been visiting them just 3 days before the stroke. Jake and Logan decided to move back to the Monterey area where Kevin and I are so fortunate to live. Jake grew up in Carmel Valley. He got a very good job in nearby Aptos where he and Logan found their first home to buy.

Welcome to the world of mortgages and the Joys of Home Ownership!!! It’s a lovely little house in a mountainous Redwood area of Aptos. Jake and Logan drove from Antigua to Maine, with their one-eyed rescued kitty, Meowsers.

Then they drove from Sag Harbor, New York with kitty in tow again to Monterey. Ever the great raconteur, Jake keeps us laughing with all his stories, what great material he’s amassed from these international road trips, a lot of customs, animals, bizarre experiences.

Later.

BTW don’t credit me for saying I was stroked. I got that from Ram Dass in the wonderful film “Fierce Grace” in which he describes what it was and is like to have been stroked.

Categories: Environment, Family, Friends, Hiking, Memories
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No, pas possible! Today is March 2nd and I am only now adding a post about our trip to America. For shame!

We arrived in Gig Harbor, Washington on Christmas Eve and we flew back to France from San Francisco on Inauguration Day – Gobama! And now, about a mere forty days later, I’m finally sitting down to write a post about the trip. (Keeping up with one’s blog isn’t as easy as I thought!) Before any more time passes, I want to thank all our friends and family who took such good care of us.

We were very fortunate indeed to spend Christmas with Mom and Dadums at their home in Gig Harbor. My son Jake flew up from San Francisco to join us and my sister, Susan, and husband Tom and nephews Danny and Billy (who live nearby) were there as well. We were also there to celebrate Billy’s 18th birthday on December 28th. He invited about 40 of his closest friends over, dug a pit in the backyard, and BBQed a whole lamb Argentinian-style on a home-made vertical metal structure. And it worked – deliciously!

On December 30th, we reluctantly said good-bye and flew to San Francisco. We rented a really ugly big American car, and drove to Carmel Valley to stay with dear friend, Lynne. The next day, Kevin and I experienced our best New Year’s Eve ever. What a party! We caught up with old friends Doris and Hu, Donna and Scot, Mary and Gregg, Mark and Elaine, Marv and Wanda, and made new friends as well – Robin and John. It was a perfect gathering of people, with yet another great meal, and hours and hours of crippling dancing. And an after-party the next day. Perfect …

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Categories: Family, Memories, The World Community
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Kevin’s expert computer eye spotted a cheap RyanAir flight to Edinburgh recently, so we decided to take advantage of the opportunity to visit our dear friends, Mike and Christina. We last saw Mike, Kevin’s godfather, and his Danish-born wife, Christina, in June at Henley, where they had urged us to come spend some time with them at their home in Scotland. We could only spare a long weekend but – hey – why not?

It was Kevin’s second and my first visit to Scotland, a[nother] country I have always wanted to see. We arrived in Edinburgh Friday night and took the two hour train ride to Stonehaven, just below Aberdeen on the east coast. Unfortunately, it was too dark to really see anything, but Mike picked us up at the station and drove us back to their beautiful cozy cottage and converted barn, and he and Christina fed us a hearty meal. When we woke Saturday morning, the view from our bedroom window was just what I imagined Scotland would look like. We were nestled in low rolling lime-green hills filled with heather and grazing cows and in the near distance we could see the North Sea. It was all sort of wild and wind-swept looking. Beautiful.

After a brisk walk through the surrounding countryside, we drove to Stonehaven where we visited our first pub and dined on fish and chips. From there, we visited a local castle, and then another pub. And thus the theme was set: we seemed to spend most of our time eating great food, drinking pints, checking out gorgeous scenery, and having a wonderful time just hanging our with our hosts. On Sunday, Christina, an expert horsewoman, even gave us riding lessons on her horse, Fred. Their menagerie also includes the hard-of-hearing but still frisky old pup, Sascha, and their black kitty, Nelson.

Monday, we took a very scenic day-time train back to Edinburgh where we had several hours to kill before catching our flight back to Marseilles. Edinburgh seems spectacular, but it will take another visit to really explore it well. Meanwhile, check out a few of our photos.

Thank you Mike and Christina for a wonderful visit. Much love,

Ruth

Categories: Family, Memories, Travel
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Kevin and I just returned from a week in Merry Olde and Very Olde England. Kevin’s parents, Geoff and Jenni, are fortunate to live just a stone’s throw from Bushy Park, the second largest of the Royal Parks of London, and Hampton Court Palace, appropriated by Henry VIII from Cardinal Wolsey in around 1525.

I was very lucky to have several sunny, if not warm, days to stroll with Geoff and Jenni through Bushy Park, as well as the palace grounds. We arrived at the absolute peak of the daffodil bloom. We also walked across Molesey Bridge and watched a couple beautiful boats go through Molesey Lock. The scenery is so completely different from Provence, but so gorgeous in its own way. So veddy English! Check out the photos in Gallery.

Ruth

Categories: Family, Hiking, Travel
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My maternal grandparents were known as Mama Davis and Papa Davis. They had sixteen children, but lost four in infancy. Many of my family have quite interesting names. Papa Davis was born James Madison Davis. Mama Davis was named Bertha. Their daughters were Olive Bertha, Flossie Etta (also known as Momo), Sadie, Alice, and Bernice. Their sons were Jessie, Grover, Edward, Comer, Hollis, Clay, and Clifford.

Papa Davis was very talented. He owned lots of land which was forested and also good for farming. He “thinned” trees which were sent to paper mills. By thinning the trees, the other trees grew better. Papa had a wonderful workshop that many of the local men enjoyed using. He was also the local horseshoer.

Mama and Papa Davis had 48 grandchildren. Lord knows how many great and great-great grandchildren they had. Papa lived to be 92; Mama made it to 89.

Here are some more good family names. I have cousins named Ouida Faye Bagley, and Lucy Belle, Minnie Belle, and Lucy Kate. Then there’s Marian Earl Chaney and Virgie Chaney. Berta Davis, Lovey Mae Hicks. Zula Mae Pea. Ester Butts and her sister, Lucy Butts. (John said to add Lucy Bowels, but I won’t.) Oh, and my Aunt Momo was married to Uncle O.C. The initials didn’t stand for anything. Their daughter, Boyde, had a son named Freddy Funches. My sister, Frances, is married to Luther Smith, also known as Smitty Smith.

Ruthie’s named after John’s mother, Ruth Marie. If we’d named her after my mother, you’d all be calling her Olive Bertha. Now wouldn’t that be fine?

Categories: Family, Memories
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My maiden name is Olive Juanita Haskew, but you can call me Nita. I am what you would call a Southern Belle. On February 12, 1926 I left the comfortable environment of my mother’s womb and saw the world for the first time. I truly believe those simpler days had more to offer than the world we live in today. But that is another story. I am here today to let you know the story of my life.

I was born at home, not in a hospital. That was a usual event in rural Alabama. My father, Albert Comer Haskew, was a farmer. My mother, nee Olive Bertha Davis, was a devoted housewife and school teacher. I have three brothers – Percy, James, and Ned; and three sisters – Maggie, Alma Ruth, and Frances. I was born in Nettlesborough, a town with one store, but attended grammar school in Thomasville. I have to mention that my sister Maggie lives in Lower Peach Tree – a bit of a strange name as there is no Upper or Middle Peach Tree.

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Categories: Family, Memories
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When I was quite young [1932] I witnessed the “Bonus Army,” or “Bonus Marchers,” camped out on the Anacostia River Flats in southeast Washington. This area was near the end of Pennsylvania Avenue across from the Anacostia Bridge. This was during the days of the Depression and the marchers were World War I veterans who had been promised a bonus. The Government wouldn’t keep its word and pay the bonus to the veterans.

They camped in makeshift huts at Fairlawn, a park-like green area along the Anacostia River. The vets were orderly, but President Hoover wanted them removed from the area. He sent the United States Army to remove them forcibly. Among the famous generals leading the “attack” on the marchers were MacArthur, Eisenhower and Patton. The marchers refused to move. The army used tear gas and bayonets to drive them out. I witnessed this action first hand. It was horrible to watch. Several men were killed – United States veterans. I cried at the sight of it.

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Categories: Family, Memories
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My mother, Nita, and my father, John, are only two days apart in age. Today is my father’s 82nd birthday. My mother was born not only on her own mother’s birthday, but Abraham Lincoln’s as well.

I think I started calling my father “Dadums” when I was twelve. I’ve asked him and mom to post some of their memories and they have graciously agreed. Today and tomorrow, I’ll be putting up Dadums’s posts, to be followed on February 12 by one from Mom. I’m working on her still to get another post up the next day.

Happy Birthday, Mom and Dadums!

Ruthie

Categories: Family, Memories
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I’ve just returned home from spending a week in London. I stayed with my parents who live near Hampton Court Palace and a wonderful royal park, Bushy Park; home to many deer, wildlife and people enjoying a day out. I went for a great walk with my parents, a beautiful, crisp morning and want to share some of the pictures I took with you.

If anyone can identify the trees in this picture, please let me know. Every time I walk past them, I remark how different they are and I have no idea what they are.

Kevin

Categories: Family, Hiking
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