Day: November 21, 2017

“I am somewhat exhausted,” wrote Arthur Conan Doyle once, “I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor?”

This afternoon, as I sat by my computer, I felt like a drained battery, I knew what he meant. My head nodded while I was typing – that never happens to me –  and I felt spent and weak.

For a moment, I thought I was sick, I wondered if I had the strength to get to a doctor. I wondered if it might be emotional. I was tired, but did not feel sick.

Was it Connie? I don’t know, Maria thinks so.

I have doing therapy work for more than a decade now, and have seen too many people die to count, I believe I have learned to compartmentalize loss and death, these are not my people, not my family, not my friends.

They are just people I have come to know and care about. Am I being macho? In denial? Disconnected from myself? Maybe, it has happened before.

I have suffered from mental illness at different points in my life, I am not always aware of how I feel. I have worked hard these last few days, Connie’s death was powerful for me, an opportunity to capture an experience, this is what writers do.

I could barely lift my head, which was spinning, my arms and legs felt week, I wanted to lean back in my chair and sleep. Instead, I got up and walked in the crisp fall air. I sent Red out to work the sheep. I took deep breaths, and came back to life.

Something had happened, it either entered my  body and soul or left it, I don’t know which.

I wanted to do justice to this week. As Aristotle said, excellence is a habit. And excellence is made constant through the feeling that comes right after one has completed a work that is satisfying, even awe-inspiring, like the death of someone who is special, who reaches into one’s heart and soul.

This does not often happen to me, I guard against it, that is the only way to do this work. But I am no robot, I am all too new human. I don’t know about excellence, but I felt good, I thought I had captured the special moment.

Isn’t that what I do?

I sometimes think I only want to relax until I am ready to renew such a feeling all over again because to me, everything else becomes trivial at the moment.

So this process was either emotionally exhausting, or perhaps I am sick in some way which has not yet revealed itself. My fatigue is complete, is encompasses my whole body.

I admit to being driven, rest does not come easily. Tonight, I’ll listen to music when I get into bed, perhaps watch a British mystery until dawn, and the spinning whirlwind that is my head cools down.

Tonight, I am feeling energized, as if I have completed a work and am satisfied with it. But I am still spent. I’ll see what the morning brings.

Thanks for reading. Much love and good wishes to you. I guess I am tired, but also in awe of life.

I wanted to get a photo of Kelly Patrick to share with you. I’ve been putting up a lot of photos about Connie Martell and the people in her life, but there were few people in Connie’s life more important than Kelly Patrick, the night supervisor at the Mansion.

She always called Connie “Con-Con,” and Connie told me Kelly was like a daughter to her. When Connie was hurting, Kelly brought her food  and tried to make her more comfortable. She got Connie up and moving and walking when she was in pain and discouraged.

The two of them loved one another, as happens at the Mansion between staff and residents. Health workers like Kelly do not make a lot of money, and their work is hard and intense. I try to consider the staff as much as the residents when I can.

I can testify that this is profoundly difficult work. It often involves tending to sores, changing bandages, getting people dressed,  cleaning up accidents, helping get people into the bathroom, answering call button that howl all day.

They are not often recognized for what they do, and our imperfect system of caring for the elderly – our mothers and fathers – would collapse without them. You will never see them on the news.

Red visits with them in the office, and we sponsor (the Army Of Good) occasional pizza dinners and lunches for the staff. It brightens their day. I think they could use some colorful wool  hats as well, it can become a symbol of the Mansion.

Today, I told Kelly she had to stop avoiding the camera and let me take her photo.  She is shy and quiet.

She is a genuine hero, one you will never see on the news. I yelled “Photo Bomb” and Brittany and DorLisa got behind Kelly. I am loving the photo bombs I am taking, a new dimension in my photography. Everyone is smiling.

Kelly Nolan started it at the Blog.

It is not up to me to thank Kelly for the wonderfully loving care she gave Connie during her time at the Mansion, that is for others to do. But this kind of love and devotion is deserving of thanks.

“What does love look like?,” asked St. Augustine.

“It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy,” he wrote. “It h as eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sights and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.”

It looks like Kelly Patrick. These special people work so hard, and it is often thankless and difficult work. So thanks, Kelly, for existing, and lovingly doing the work so few people wish to do.

You inspire me.

Sylvia jumped at the offer of a colorful hat, she often wears caps, but they don’t have much color. Sylvie told me she is in touch with a number of blog readers, who are kind to her and offer to help. The mentioned LoAnn Sanders, an angel who has helped the residents so much.

The hat campaign will be short and sweet and cheap. We will warm up the residents and brighten the place up.

DorLisa is one love machine, she is full of hugs and smiles. We are buddies. She loves her earrings from New Mexico, I think, and I knew this one hat would be just the right size and color for her. I think it is. The Mansion needed a lift today, and the hats truly helped.

They are also quite valuable in the winter here and the residents just seem to love them. They add color where it is needed. I’m going to see that everyone at the Mansion is offered one, Ruth started something neat.

Please do not spend money on this, if there are colorful wool hats around in good condition, it would be great if you could send some to my post office box, P.O. Box 205, State Route 22, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

I don’t need any donations for this, thanks, I know I can get some nice caps inexpensively, and there is money in the fund to pay for it. I loved seeing all those smiles, they lifted me up too. We don’t need that many. Save your generosity for Christmas, and thanks. Some of the stuff arriving is quite wonderful.

it’s interesting about the Mansion, the people there need so many things, some of them are right under my nose, and I don’t always see them. I would not  have thought winter wool cats would cause so much fun, joy. And comfort.

I am grateful for Ruth, a new resident of the Mansion, for sparking the idea of hats for some of the residents as the cold weather approaches. Hats encourage them to go outside and walk, they also love the colors. They were just delighted with the hats, so of course, I am scheming to get a few more.

I estimate I need a dozen hats – wool caps of different sizes, the more color the better. They are not expensive and I don’t need a lot. If anyone has a colorful wool cap in good condition that they don’t  use anymore, please stick it in an envelope and send it to Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

Please do not go out and buy new ones, the holidays are approaching and you all have lots of presents to buy. Used ones in good condition are as good a new ones. If there are any extras, I will see they get to the Red Cross or our local food pantry or churches.

There is also an assisted care facility in nearby Granville, I can bring any extras there.

I saw how much pleasure this brought, and it is a simple and practical way to brighten up the lives of the Mansion residents, especially as we approach the cold and dark days. Ruth was beaming, she may not take it off for awhile.