You don't give me money

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Dianne Schuch - Lindsey

Dianne Schuch - Lindsey
Location
Houston via Kenosha, Wisconsin, Texas, USA
Birthday
June 21
Title
A Heartbeat that never comes to rest
Bio
This story begins last year, delves into the painful history starting 25 years ago and will end with the events that led to the devastating outcome in New Hampshire and the very unexpected results. The story is laced with the all too important life saver of humor, a certain amount of erotica, controversial experiences and painful decisions. Oh...and Music! My heart has gone into this as I have been a hermit for the past 14 months preparing and ultimately reliving the events that have put me here. And it is with you that I will find my way.

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JULY 7, 2012 9:43AM

Hope. Cancer's mockery...IISTG p78

Rate: 8 Flag

This is an absolutely true story Blog Directory

click on video to turn off music


A belief in hell and the knowledge that every ambition is doomed to frustration at the hands of a skeleton have never prevented the majority of human beings from behaving as though death were no more than an unfounded rumor.

 Aldous Huxley


 

 

The day started much as it had ended 12 hours earlier. The rain was abysmal, matching our spirits…well mine at least. Mel and I got up and performed our morning rituals, coffee, morning news, Mel checking her EBay bids, me reading the paper.

We dressed and I cleaned up any messes. We made our way to her black ford truck with the front bumper bashed in from Devon’s use.

We made small talk, but, ironically, said nothing of Bootsie.

Rush hour traffic was beginning to thin, so we made it to the hospital a lot faster than originally planned. We parked the truck and walked across the garage, our footsteps echoing, keys jingling, other visitors and patients alike talking in soft chatter. It felt like the halls were forever and our heels clicking on the parquet tile sounded ominous.

When we got to Bootsie’s room, she lit up at seeing me, but immediately came down upon Mel’s arrival. But it didn’t stop her from scooting over in her hospital bed to make room for me to sit. I ignored her gesture as she padded the mattress and sat in a chair instead, but she was not having it. Mel nodded to me her accordance and I went and sat with Bootsie.

Every word Bootsie said she looked at me and acted as if Mel was not even there. Mel ignored this childish behavior to get answers.

“Hello Bootsie, I hope you don’t mind that I came”.

And again Bootsie responded but wouldn’t look at her. “I understand, you don’t feel Dianne is safe with me”.

I just hung my head, shaking it back and forth with my hand on my brow.

“What time is your surgery” Mel asked.

Bootsie’s family was going to be there around 2 pm since her surgery was scheduled for 2:30. The doctor came in and asked us to leave, but Bootsie asked us to stay. I didn’t understand much anyhow, but, of course, Mel did. They were going to “go in” and do an exploratory to find out what they couldn’t in the “PetScan”. If it were possible to remove the tumors, they would be in the operating room for about three to four hours. If they find they couldn’t do anything, they would close and she would be back in the room in 30 minutes. That was the result we didn’t want. And the surgery was moved up by two hours. The doctor left and Bootsie for the first time looked at Mel…almost a triumphant sort of look. We were going to be her only family, as they took her immediately.

“Are you staying?” She asked Mel, “Is Dianne allowed to stay?”.

“Yes Bootsie we are staying. Dianne is allowed to do anything she wishes (that’s a lie) and if your family arrives, we may leave as a courtesy to them.”

“No” Bootsie demanded “You need to stay, they will understand.”

I don’t think Bootsie took this seriously. To her this was a pretty convenient ploy and she seemed to be willing to go through the motions and withstand a few cuts and stitches to have me stay with her as long as deemed necessary. We agreed to wait in her room for 45 minutes and if we didn’t hear anything, we would know she was in it for the long haul. We would go get something to eat and return.

Mel read, I crocheted a brightly colored blanket, with all the colors of the rainbow, for the upcoming Christmas Songfest Silent Auction.  The colors jumped out against the putrid yellows and greens of the room, somehow out of place.

We watched the clock, I was breathing irregularly as Mel informed me. Every second ticked by loudly, ominously.  I thought of Bootsie being everywhere I was. It’s curious how one’s thought pattern runs around like mercury – scattered thoughts like droplets then bump into each other and pool into one generalization. A man may be the controller of doubts before lunch and an optimistic believer in the will's freedom after. She was an important facet of the Gay community helping various charities attending all the significant events, the White party and The Dianas. She had a business, Three Dog Bakery, a healthy pet food pantry and Throw a Dog a Bone, a pet dog walking venture.

I thought about her sitting in the rotunda below my building when I didn’t think she knew where I worked. I thought of our first attempt at a life together in her apartment on the corner of Gray and Montrose, the “Worden” building, sadly gone now. I saw her sitting on my closet floor sorting through my shoes, holding them. I could hear the twinkling of the ice as she poured her Dewers. And of course, our first night alone together, making love until dawn.

I am certain Mel had her thoughts also, but they were probably veered toward “Thank God, this woman will be out of my life forever” I was hoping she wouldn’t be that crass, but I have to admit to myself, she definitely is.

After twenty minutes things slowed to almost a standstill and I prayed, Mel holding my hand. Then at 30 minutes I let out a sigh.

All’s well!!!

Bootsie’s surgery is continuing and so this means she has a chance!

I got up to use the bathroom and while washing my hands I heard voices and shuffling, I hurried out to greet Bootsie’s family and explain what had happened. But it wasn’t her family.

The nurses were shuffling about transferring a patient to the bed next to Bootsie’s and again I had that spike of fear, followed by a feeling of relief.

One of the nurses stopped. “Wrong bed…it’s bed B”.

How heartless was fate? And to put a person through this again and again. My hopes have been raised and dashed in a matter of minutes…I had hopelash.

 There she was, asleep in her bed. I gasped and turned to Mel who pulled me as close as a person could without smothering them. We both knew what this meant. The doctor explained that she had been in recovery for the last 20 minutes. They had opened and closed in less than five. The news wasn’t good and it wasn’t going to get better any time soon.

Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently... Maya Angelou

So now it was that time…the time for courage, all other dimensions in my life were at a loss.

More...

 

 


Blog Directory (also see the links section to the left.)
Page 1 Why did you try to kill yourself
Music: Deep Purple/Anthem 

By the way IISTG means If It Seems Too Good to be True
Yes, this is absolutely positively true. If you lived this wouldn't you write about it? Some of the names of characters in this blog are fictitious. This is an account of actual events. Some of the events have been compiled together for the flow of the story. Even when I read my own work, I wonder how it could be so. But if you study your own life and compartmentalize it into less than 200 pages, you would be surprised how interesting it really is!

 

TRUTH HAS WITNESSES (Dianne Lindsey) ©
This material is the copyright Dianne Schuch Lindsey and cannot be duplicated in any fashion without the express permission of the Author. All rights reserved ©

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''How heartless is fate? '' Dianne Schuch - Lindsey

Maybe one day, we all will find your quotes, as our guides, as you did with Angelou.


She still is! Rated.
So many emotions captured so well here, life is so complex. I haven't listened to Deep Purple in ages. Thank you for the story and song.

Rated.
Cancer in the midst of pettiness.

Perhaps a perfect life description.
Maybe the safer place to be is angry at one you love instead at angry at a disease you can't control...I was so in hope Bootsie would not return to her room for hours.
[r] Dianne, this is incredible writing along with a heartbreaking story. Huxley's quote launches it well. And the cruel tease of hope at the end so well unfolded and shared. So much like real life, trying to keep up with the subtext and processing huge feelings that travel in those underground streams and rivers that parallel and threaten our ritualized conversations and politically correct missions. your metaphor of the mercury awed me. well done! well done! best, libby
I have changed all the posts to the REAL names of the people, i.e. Willie is now Mel, Mandee is now Candee. Marnie is Mary.