Marilyn Monroe is my cousin, oh and my dad had a heart attack

Apparently, my phone rang early on Saturday morning. I didn't hear it, but when I saw the blue notification blip, I picked up the phone and noticed I had missed two calls from my sister. My heart did a skip flutter, because the phone doesn't usually ring early in the morning unless it's some kind of news. And it was news. My father had collapsed, was unconscious but had a pulse and was breathing. I had that feeling that comes over me, utter calm but yet there is a roaring in my ears. All I can hear is the catch in my sister's voice as she explains things to me.

My drive to the hospital entailed a bit of time, so that wears on one's nerves. Questions abound. How? Why? What now? I listened to talk radio and learned a thing or two about the types of home replacement windows available. Isn't if funny what you remember? My sister called me again, wanting to know where I was on the highway, so she knew when to expect my arrival. Then they were talking about how to efficiently clean out a downspout that was packed with sprouted maple seedlings. Good information to know for a future time, good time filler when you are trying so hard to maintain the speed limit.

I arrived at the emergency room and entered the room where he lay. He is awake, upset, bloody, confused. He didn't remember the episode, was disoriented and continued to insist on wanting to leave.The ER doctor let us know that it could be dehydration, low blood sugar or a heart attack. I'm texting my mother, trying to keep her in the loop as she is 6 hours away, with the vital information that she is craving. I knew I was her link to him and of course, her phone battery is low-so making phone calls isn't really an option. I attempted to put her at ease, he is awake, hungry, nose is broken from the fall, doesn't want her to leave her event and make the drive back home.

Dad is mortified he made a scene in a public place, that his blood was spilled, that such a fuss is being made. I'm confused by his words, his refusal to admit that something happened, even though the evidence is clear that something happened. I watched his blood pressure, it seemed kind of high, and decided that he needed to talk to my mom. She needed to hear his voice and she had the words to calm him down. I think it's what being married forever must be all about, and they are truly two peas in a pod. Dependent on each other when the chips are down. He wanted her to stay at her convention, she couldn't think of anything but being by his side. Once she was there, he would reach out for her, just to make sure she was there.

So the verdict is he had a heart attack. We've learned about medical procedures, acronyms, normal and abnormal medical test results. Hospital food is still really awful and surprisingly there are few healthy snacks available. Nurses are amazing care givers; empathetic, caring, listening to what was said and not said. Doctors are patient with talkative patients that want to share with them each medical event in their lives, except the really important ones that might have an effect on treatment or be a reason for the blockage.

I'm thinking about the next steps in this. My sister and I keep taking pictures of him, because we know at some point he will want to know what he looked like. I'm sure those amazing nurses think we are odd ducks. Thankfully, he received a stent, so his recovery will be less awful? I hope so, and I will find out more later.

As we were sitting in his hospital room, being introduced to the next amazing nurse caregiver, out of the blue my dad states, "Marilyn Monroe is my cousin! Heh heh, I mean like 9 times removed." My dad is passionate about a number of things, and one of them is Royal English history and how it pertains to the family tree. He can quote various ancestors and their part in wars, rise to the throne, etc. He is a voracious reader of historical fiction, because he knows that some of those people hang on his tree. We all know the Marilyn Monroe tidbit, but I'm sitting there wondering what on earth would motivate him to spout that particular fact. I think he must be still dealing with the after effects of his head injury. But no. Our nurse is wearing scrubs with Marilyn on them.....apparently he is going to be OK.

Giving Thanks

No one challenged me to come up with things to be thankful for, and for that, I thank my friends. The church says that one can always find things to be thankful for, and I try to live up to that challenge of looking for the silver lining, even when things look bleak. I often times will consider my life and the loved ones, family and friends that make up my network and marvel at the amazing people in my life. They are a gifted bunch with so many different attributes that I feel very lucky to call them friends.

This week, I felt blue. I really couldn't put my finger on why, but my emotions were feeling vulnerable and I was easily upset. I casted about, trying to figure out what was going on, since I pride myself on being in control on the outside even when my insides are heaving with sentiment. It goes back to my training with a national consumer products company; first as a travelling sales rep, a corporate recruiter, west coast district manager and lastly as the director of a division at a very young 27 years of age. I learned a lot about having the guts and grim determination to succeed. I certainly didn't want my bosses to see me cry in frustration.

My kids are away at college. Yes, those bright spots in my life that make me who I am today. They could be part of the reason I'm a bit more emotional these days.  I am so proud of them, each following their own paths towards careers and learning to be independent adults. But wow, I miss them. I miss their daily ins and outs around the house. I miss their voices. I don't really miss their messy rooms, but I miss cooking for them and doing the things I have been doing for the last 20 years. As they make their way through higher education, living within a greek organization and figuring out what they want to do with their lives, it makes me feel like I did something right when they want to talk to me about how it's going. They will tell you I'm a softie and cry all the time, because when it comes to cheering their successes, lamenting over the disappointments and hurts and having to say goodbye as they drive away, those tears are always right there.

So why so blue? I'm not sure, but I reached out to my friends and was overwhelmed by the response. Between a lunch with an old friend, trivia with the girls and a few other interactions throughout the week, as I sat here and took an assessment of my life, I realized that I am a lucky lady. I'm blessed, and so undeserving of the many gifts of friendship I have been given. And for that I am eternally grateful to so many that lift me up, make me smile and laugh. The give and take of friendship is truly a gift and I will take that any day.

Waiting

Today, as I sit here in my kitchen with soups being created on the stove, snow continuing to fall-further thwarting the advent of spring that we are all anxiously anticipating, I'm glancing at my phone, waiting for my number two child-who is 18, to text me and let me know he is on his way home.

My kids are different from each other in many ways, as is the case with most families. Besides being different genders, they chose different activities, instruments to perfect, sports to achieve. When Twenty was seven, she said the strangest words I have ever heard. We were at the swimming pool and she looked at me with her sparkling eyes and announced, I think I'm going to go swim laps. I looked at her like she was crazy. I can guarantee you-I've never said anything like that in my life. And so she hung up her dance shoes, donned a one-piece swimsuit and joined the local swim club. I’d like to think that was when I began to perfect the ability of something I like to call, the art of waiting.

When I was growing up I too had activities that I was fortunate to participate in and it meant my mom had to ferry me about as well, however it seemed that the one doing the waiting was always me. My instructions were to be ready to go, waiting at the curb, so she could drive up, open the door and I’d jump inside, all without ever having the wheels come to a full and complete stop. My own children did not appreciate waiting for any length of time, should I take the opportunity to knock out an errand or two during classes, which I suppose explains why both were born early-just couldn’t wait to get on with life.

I have driven my children to school, their various activities, school events, and because they pursued different things, I could be in my minivan for hours, just getting them to all of the things they wanted to do. And that meant watching and waiting. I'd try to read, but honestly, I loved watching them, or listening to them make music, so usually I just watched and waited. I'd get to performances early to get a good seat, and wait for family members to arrive in their saved seats. I have waited through rain, wind, snow, sleet, steamy hot pool observation decks, and occasionally a nice cozy sitting room.

So, here I sit this morning, waiting for Eighteen to text me, (kids today don’t call), and let me know he is on his way home. He’s been at a recruitment event for prospective college kids and I’m sure it was a late night and I’m fighting the urge to text him, make sure he is ok, and that he will drive safe on the highway. So I’m pulling out my learned waiting abilities , and continue to glance at the phone.

Almost Famous

I had the opportunity to meet the person that inspired me to start writing this blog last week at a conference I attended. Like the people that share their feelings and responses to my articles, I wanted her to know she had inspired someone. Authors like hearing that something that came from the heart, a piece that is truly a part of themselves chosen to share with the world, in some way impacted another. 

I've had the chance to meet a number of people that hold notoriety in different circles, but never one that specifically impacted my personal life. When I lived in California, I'd make it a point to ask my LA sales rep to save the Hollywood accounts for when I visited, just to see if I could catch a glimpse of someone famous. I never did. While in New York City we had stopped into a bar for a quick refreshment when in walked this guy who sat one bar stool away from me and I would swear it looked just like Billy Joel! I turned to my friend and exclaimed, (this was way before OMG)

"I think that's Billy Joel!"

He said, "No it isn't. Stop looking at him."

I'd turn, check out the guy and reaffirm my declaration. Finally, after about 10 minutes of deliberation that pretty much repeated the above comments, the Billy Joel look alike turns to me and says,

"OK, so which one of yous thinks I am and which one of yous thinks I'm not" in this really heavy east coast accent, which was kind of shocking because I've heard Billy Joel sing and he doesn't sound that way AT ALL, throwing a bit of doubt into my firm conviction.

I immediately sat up straighter and explained, quite dramatically using my hands like I usually do to affect a certain point, that I'm the one who thinks he is. He nods, throws a buck on the bar, and leaves. I look at the bartender with a question in my eyes and a shrug of my shoulders, and he confirms, yep-that was Billy Joel. I came home from that trip announcing to all that would listen, I had a beer with Billy Joel!

I've seen Gene Hackman in the Albuquerque airport, he gave me good eye contact and nodded, had my picture taken with Mitch Richmond-former basketball player for my college alma mater and the NBA, while we were at a trade show convention that had nothing to do with either basketball or our university, as well as shook hands with Mike Ditka while eating at his restaurant in Chicago. I've had the chance to meet senators, govenors, university presidents and chancellors, athletes, actors and the list goes on, but what I've always tried to do is treat everyone with the same warmth and openness that I extend to my friends, not get too over excited about what they do and treat them with respect. 

So I sat and listened to the woman that was my inspiration, as she shared how her life has changed since she was a college student, what writing has done for her and how she has embraced reinventing her life along the way. I began to waffle between introducing myself and just moving on my merry way. Would she really want to meet an aspiring author? It seemed so trite to go up to someone and say, 'hey-because of you, I started writing....you want to read my stuff?' At the end of the session, between people dying to get in a word with the local celebrity, I made the decision to say hello. She is just as lovely up close, she is witty (no surprise there-she has been sharing her wit with the community for years) and seemed to genuinely care that I was writing stuff down. She was the one who asked what I called my blog and thought that was something she could remember to look up (thank goodness for my forethought on what to call it, so long ago). It was a reaffirmation to me to keep writing down words, sharing my perspectives and to embrace the reinvention of self. 

Balance

Sometimes, I'm not very original. I like to think of myself as unique, interesting and fun-loving. As the new year begins, I've done a personal inventory and come up with more of me than I would like to see. A check in with the bathroom scales delivered the final verdict. I've overindulged, again, and now it's time to get back in shape, hopefully slim down and be happier with my body shape. So, I'm joining millions of Americans in their annual resolution that THIS will be the year that all happens.

I used to be one of the lucky ones when it came to weight loss. I would up my activity level, stay away from junk foods and voila! Shapely and svelte were mine to behold. My mother used to promise me that one day, I would have to work harder to get those pounds off, one day I wouldn't be able to eat all that junk without paying for it, forever packed onto my hips and gut. Well, that day arrived, actually some time ago if the pictures I look at are any way to measure that.

I've been accepted into a Weight Loss Study on campus and have undergone the preliminary tests. I'm all set to get started next week, and have been living it up in the countdown to DS day, Diet Start day. I'll be asked to follow a strict diet and exercise program, and I'm excited about the prospect of weight loss success this time. The other aspect of this study is to look at activity levels for participants to continue or maintain that loss, and since this is where I've failed many times, I'm looking forward to assisting the study in finding that magic, all in the name of science of course.

But what I really think about is finding balance. Balance between my daily work life, home life and personal goals. Something that I can sustain as I go on this diet, log miles on a treadmill or elliptical, and find that slimmer me that is deep down inside, hiding behind the cravings of ice cream, chips and guacamole. I'll keep you posted.

Finding your Voice

I found this in my drafts folder. Apparently I never posted it....and with the changes here on the hill, it will never be published, as I am no longer a part of the Support Staff and therefore no longer a part of the Senate. That was bittersweet for me; making a change to become Professional Staff and the silencing of my voice and passion for the issues support staff face, on the Senate.

August, 2013
As a new member of the University Support Staff Senate, I was asked to join the communications team. Anyone that knows me will attest that I enjoy communicating with people, however the challenge of finding a topic for the newsletter that might be of interest to a vast demographic, was a bit daunting. What might I have to say that could be considered worthy of reading?

After some consideration, I decided upon sharing my first impressions and a shout out to the entire university support staff community.

Here is what I submitted:

I attended my first meeting of the senate and came away with a better appreciation of the vast network of employees we have here at KU, as well as hearing my fellow representatives express concern about employee issues, campus-wide. You would appreciate knowing that these people speak for the betterment of all working environments.  I had the opportunity to attend the Leadership Summit in February and heard a panel of speakers from a variety of backgrounds talk about what community means to them. It was insightful, funny, endearing and I learned a few things. So why do I bring these two occasions together? Because the other consideration I'd like to bring forth is the opportunity to Find your Voice.

We are a community, the university support staff. We have thoughts, opinions, rights and a common bond that joins us together; to be a part of making KU the best it can be. Finding your voice and making it heard in a non-threatening environment is essential if we are to grow, make changes and improve. We have a forum for sharing that passion to be the best, and that is your USSS. Without your input, suggestions and opinions, we cannot make an accurate representation. I encourage you to find your voice, share your thoughts and ideas with your USSS representative and trust us to speak on your behalf to make improvements, changes or just to be a sounding board.

I look forward to finding my own voice and hearing others as we strive towards a better tomorrow.

Deanne Arensberg

Giftwrap

My family roots are in the wheatfields of Kansas. It wasn't until I had moved away to the west coast that I realized how deep those roots were. Many years ago, as I flew across Kansas on my way home for Christmas, my heart clutched as I gazed from the window onto those fields. Home. I grew up in the suburbs of Kansas City, but I claim those wheatfields as my own. I was lucky enough to have spent several weeks each summer with my grandparents in the heartland, listening to farm reports, Tradio and playing cards in front of the water cooler. I've always said that wheat is what put me through school, and I'm thankful to my granddad and uncles-the farmers that helped make that college education possible.

I am blessed to have known my grandparents, both sides of the family as well as my great grandparents on my dad's side. They were farmers, carpenters, policemen, nurses as well as piano teachers, school teachers and anything else they could find that would help put food on the table. They survived the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, the Polio epidemic, droughts, floods and learned how to make do with what they had. These people helped shape me into the person I am today, with their sense of family, values and most especially their incredible ability to scrimp, save and reuse gift wrap. Yes. Giftwrap.

My grandmothers were the savers of all things, from the cotton that used to be wedged into aspirin bottles to plastic bags, newspapers and of course National Geographic magazines. But what I really remember, was the saving of the wrapping paper and boxes. I will never forget the reminders, Save the wrapping paper! Save the bows!

Some family members had perfected the art of removing wrapping paper to create a large reusable sheet for next year by opening one end and sliding the box out. We called it cheating, since the suspense of undoing each piece of tape was denied to those of us that had wrapped the surprise and were wanting that anticipation to last just a little bit longer as each piece was carefully peeled back.

You could expect to see that giftwrap for years, shrinking in size as the rips and tears from undoing the tape were trimmed off. As we got older, it would seem that we delighted in balling up the paper to keep from ever having to see it again, much to my grandmas dismay. As I think about that now, I'm a bit nostalgic and disappointed that we didn't do a better job of helping recycle and reuse.

Last night I had on my favorite Christmas CD's, was wrapping Christmas gifts with dinner in the oven. My kitchen was a warm, happy place with family milling about, laughing, talking about nothing and everything. I opened a new roll of wrapping paper and had flipped the paper over to measure the paper to the box, and noticed on the grid the following words: Giftwrap is 100% recyclable. I began smiling and thinking to myself, yeah, my grandmas were WAY ahead of you on that one.

Merry Christmas to all, Happy New Year and much peace, health and blessings are wished your way.