Psychological Exam

In 1997 when I applied to work as a police dispatcher there were (and probably still are) a lot of tests that I was required to take and pass to be hired.  One of them was a four hour 1,000 question psychological examination and it was really the only test I was concerned about because I had no idea what to expect.

When I arrived for the test I met with the doctor who gave me the instructions and put me in a room by myself and told me that the test took an average of 4 hours to take.  Yuck.  During that four hours I answered True or False to a multitude of questions like "At times I have the uncontrollable urge to set fire to myself or others" (my personal favorite); "I do not always tell the truth"; "I see things around me that others do not see"; "I am an important person".  These are just a few of the questions I remember.

About 4 hours later I finished the test and was directed to a room to wait for the doctor to come in with my results.  One of the last questions I remember answering was something to the effect of "When I see something that is wrong I speak up".  I answered True.  That all changed when the doctor came in.  He was a large man, and as he turned around and bent down to pick up some papers out of his chair I saw that his pants were ripped from crotch to knee.  I mean I could not help but see it---it was practically in my face.  Thankfully he was wearing boxers.  He appeared to be unaware of the show he was giving me, although I could not believe that he could not feel the breeze blowing.  The hole was huge.

So here I sat with these boxers and bare skin staring me in the face and all I could think of was that question I had answered "True" to.  "When I see something that is wrong I speak up".  Well here was my chance to show that I had given honest answers to my test questions.  I thought this might be a test---would I fail the exam if I did not speak up.  I mean, SURELY this guy knew he was flapping in the breeze???  Right?  As silly as it sounds now I really struggled with this for the next few minutes.  Even after the doc sat down, I could clearly see his thigh and his boxers on display.  Was I supposed to say anything?  Maybe this was some kind of new-fangled way of extending the psychological exam? 

As I sat there and answered questions and talked back and forth with him, trying not to look at the obvious I just did what I thought was right.  I kept my mouth shut.  Fifteen years later, I'm still working at the job that exam was testing me for.  I guess I passed the test(s)!

Vegas

There are very few vacation destinations that my husband and I enjoy more than Las Vegas.  I grew up all around Vegas but was never old enough to go to the casinos when our traveling took us close.  My first trip as an adult was in 1998 and I've been hooked ever since.

It's not really the gambling that intrigues me, although I do admit to playing the slot machines (and enjoying it quite a bit!).  I just love the lights, the crowds, the noise....probably everything that many people want to avoid when they go on vacation.  Speaking of noise, that's the way I pick the machines that I want to play---by the noise they make.  I don't care what the graphics or the payout or the odds are of winning, I want some cool sound to be coming out of the speakers while I play.  Pretty scientific, I must admit.

We try to get away a couple of times a year and while we have made trips to Nashville for FanFare (now called the CMA Festival) and to the Austin/San Antonio area, we are always drawn back to Vegas.  When we go, we try to see a couple of shows, but the majority of our time is spent wandering around seeing the variety of people and attractions that we have not seen anywhere else.  We've yet to go there and be disappointed.  Obviously, we don't go to win, but we have been able to celebrate after a couple of lucky pulls on the slot machines.

I'm a city girl who would like to be a country girl.  As I've gotten older I've realized the value of living out where your neighbors are not in your backyard and where you can actually see the stars at night and hear silence.  Part of that comes from the fact that I married a certified country boy who has helped me to see that living in the city is not all it's cracked up to be.  While it may be a while before we actually have our own place out away from the hustle and bustle, I think I will always be drawn to the bright lights of Vegas....at least for vacation. 

I'm not one for cruises or leaving the country, so maybe I'm limiting myself, but "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" is something that comes to mind each time I plan a trip.  We've always had a good time in Vegas and I look forward to many more in the future!

Sleep Paralysis



The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseili (1781) is thought to be one of the classic
depictions of sleep paralysis perceived as a demonic visitation.

A few weeks ago I took a nap on my loveseat on a Sunday afternoon.  I do this quite often on Sundays while my husband watches whatever game or race happens to be on.  On this particular Sunday I napped for about an hour or so and then woke up.  Or so I thought.  As has happened to me on occasions in the past, when I woke up I could not open my eyes or move my limbs.  I strained to do both, and although I could hear noises around me and was aware of where I was, I could not move.  Finally I forced myself into a sitting position and stood up.  But I still could not open my eyes.  I screamed as loud as I could trying to shake off this feeling and felt my way into the kitchen, still trying to open my eyes.  After what felt like several minutes, and still not being able to open my eyes I made my way back to the loveseat and laid back down by now starting to panic and wondering why my husband had not made any attempt to help me.  Within a few seconds I was able to open my eyes and sit up.  After talking to my husband and finding out I did NOT get up, did NOT scream, did NOT stumble into the kitchen and back, I decided it was time to do a little research. 

I've had these episodes sporadically since I was a teenager, but this was the worst of them.  Usually I just "push" my way through it and it does not seem to last more than a minute and fades similarly to a dream, so that by the time I am up and moving around, it just does not seem like that big of a deal.  This time was different and seemed to last longer so it stuck with me.  I Googled "unable to open eyes" and that led me to many stories very similar to mine and finally to the term "Sleep Paralysis" which is defined as "the paralysis that occurs as a natural part of REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. Sleep paralysis occurs either when falling asleep, or when awakening. When it occurs upon awakening, the person becomes aware before the REM cycle is complete.  The paralysis can last from several seconds to several minutes, with some rare cases being hours."  Thankfully this has not been accompanied by the terrifying hallucinations, perceived deafening loud noise and an acute sense of danger that others have experienced.  Some have even reported dream-like objects in the room with them. 

Additionally I learned that during sleep, our body alternates between REM (rapid eye movement) and NREM (non-rapid eye movement) sleep. One cycle of REM and NREM sleep lasts about 90 minutes. NREM sleep occurs first and takes up to 75% of your overall sleep time. During NREM sleep, our body relaxes and restores itself. At the end of NREM, our sleep shifts to REM. Our eyes move quickly and dreams occur, but the rest of our body remains very relaxed. If you become aware before the REM cycle has finished, you may notice that you cannot move or speak.  I knew of the term REM and NREM but never really understood how they worked together. 

I don't know if now I will be more relaxed if/when this happens again since I know what it is or if I will be more anxious wondering when the next episode will occur.  Either way in all of the articles that I read I learned that this is not a health concern and not a sign of any underlying condition.  There does not seem to be a treatment or a cause, so now I'm a bit more educated but I don't have much to do with that knowledge.  I have noticed that this has not occurred to me when I doze in my own bed, so I will definitely take that into account when I think about my next nap!

Welcome!

Sean and Daniel in 2005 at WHS graduation

Yesterday I received a "Save the Date" wedding magnet announcing the fall wedding of a very special young man.  This got me to thinking about the story I am going to tell here.

Because I had moved around so much growing up and had changed schools so many times, I was determined that things were going to be different for my son.  I wanted him to go from kindergarten through graduation in the same town with the same group of friends and with the comfort and familiarity that I never got to experience.  Sadly, or so I thought at the time, it was just not meant to be.  It's not near as bad as it could have been, as we did only move one time, but when we moved, Daniel was 10 and had really developed a close group of friends that he went to both school and church with.  He had to leave them behind and he was crushed. 

On that fateful moving day, May 3, 1997 to be exact, we loaded up the last truck and car full of our belongings and headed to our new home in Wylie.  It was a Saturday and that afternoon, 350 miles from everything that he knew and loved, Daniel stood at the top of the driveway near the back yard of our new home looking down across some open fields to a house where we could all see and hear kids splashing around, playing in the pool, having water balloon fights and generally enjoying many of the things he would have been doing had we still been in Odessa that day.  I was so sad for him I didn't even ask him to help us unload. 

As I carried our belongings back and forth to the house I noticed a boy come up the hill towards where Daniel was standing.  The field behind us consisted of empty lots on an incline and had yet to be bought or built on, so it was a clear path to the "party house" that Daniel had been watching.  I walked out to where the boy had by now approached Daniel and I could see they were about the same size and age.  The boy was Sean and his mother had sent him up to invite Daniel to the party!  I later found out that she had seen Daniel standing there and knew that we were just moving in and she wanted Daniel to meet his new neighbors.  Sean introduced himself and said that he wanted Daniel to come to the party, which turned out to be Sean's 10th birthday party. Daniel was worried that he didn't have a present, but Sean said that was ok.  He was so cute.  He even said not to worry about swim trunks, that Daniel could borrow some of his and a towel too, and that they were having cake and ice cream and they were going to eat later and Daniel could stay for everything if that was ok?

You know how sometimes you just know that everything is going to work out and not to ask too many questions?  Well the "over-protective mom" in me just felt that this was one of those times.  Some people would probably say I did everything wrong when I let Daniel go with Sean, I didn't know Sean, I didn't know his mom, I didn't know anything about any of the people at the party.  But I let him go, without a second thought....after all I could SEE the house and the pool and all the kids and I could even hear them.  But that wasn't even really the deciding factor, I just somehow knew this was ok, and the look on my son's face was priceless.  They could not run down that hill fast enough.

Later, after a full afternoon of moving into our house,  I went down to the to collect my exhausted son.  The party was long over, but I could tell it had been a good one.  I met Sean's mother Pam, his dad Andy and his brother and sister Blake and Amanda.  As we talked and visited that evening, I knew I had done the right thing.  My intuition was right as this family turned out to be some of the finest folks I have ever met. 

Daniel and Sean have remained friends ever since that first day we moved to Wylie.  Oh yeah, the wedding magnet I mentioned at the beginning of this story----it's the announcement of Sean's September wedding to which we are invited and at which Daniel will be serving as a groomsman.  I think that move we made nearly 15 years ago was really meant to be. 

Social Media

 

I had to giggle at a recent Facebook post I saw by a friend of mine.  She was wondering out loud on her page and her post was asking her friends about whether she should make cake balls for an upcoming surprise birthday party.  Apparently she forgot that the person who was supposed to be "surprised" was on her list of Facebook friends who could see the post.  The birthday girl even commented on it -- haha!   This was  funny, but I'm constantly amazed at what I see posted!  For the most part it's entertaining and informative, but every now and then I just stop and scratch my head.  Then there's Twitter, which for the life of me I can't quite figure out.  The only reason I try is because if Lindsay Lohan and Kim Kardashian can do it, then I KNOW it can't be that difficult.  Don't even get me started about Pinterest.  That's a whole 'nother post!  

It's hard to remember that it was not all that long ago that I would not have been able to fathom any of this.  I kept my encyclopedias updated and my phone book was very well worn.  Now the phone books go straight into the recycle bin and I gave up the encyclopedias to charity years ago.  All this technology makes things way too easy., and in turn I retain less of what I look up because I know that I can easily and quickly look it up again when I need to. I think all this technology is making me use my brain less or maybe it's making me brainless.  Wonder what would happen if it all went away tomorrow? 

It's Never Too Late For Family

Me and my Uncle Tom

Me and my beautiful Aunt Cindy

My father, Dennis

Me and Uncle Jerry, my father's younger brother

(sadly he passed away about a year after this picture was taken)

 My cousins Melody and Marie

My Uncle J.R., another of my dad's brothers

My dad's younger sister Aunt Carylene, me and Aunt Joanie (Uncle Jerry's wife)

Another of my dad's younger sisters, Aunt Beverly and me

Me, my cousin Jimmy and his wife Jeannie

I grew up with my mom, step-dad (Sonny), 2 younger sisters and a younger brother.  My mom had three brothers and Sonny had a sister and several brothers,  but due to circumstances beyond my control I really only knew my mom's youngest brother, Tom, his wife Cindy and their two sons (my first cousins Tommy & Rick).  My mom was friends with Aunt Cindy long before I was born and this friendship has lasted many decades.  During this time I have remained particularly close to my Aunt Cindy.  When Sonny was in the Navy and out on the ship back in the 60's and 70's, we always lived near,  next door and/or sometimes with Aunt Cindy and Uncle Tom.  When I was in school, Sonny and Uncle Tom got into welding and we traveled together, usually living in the same apartment complex or trailer park as the men followed the work. 


Now, all these years later, I am still extremely close to Aunt Cindy and usually talk to her several times a week.  During one of these conversations a couple of years ago, I was able to share with her that, through some Internet research, I had located my biological father's family.  It was very interesting because although I had never met Dennis (he passed away in the mid 1990's) Aunt Cindy had met him, and it's through her that I have most of my information.  One thing she did not know, and that I found out once I actually contacted the family is that my dad had 10 brothers and sisters and between the 8 who had survived to adulthood, I also have a couple dozen cousins!  Now this information, to a girl who grew up with one aunt, one uncle and two cousins, was a bit overwhelming, but in a good way. As I spoke to my newly found Aunts, Uncles and Cousins we planned a trip so that I could meet as many as possible.  The first trip was made in July of 2010 and was a huge success in my book.  I was able to find out so much about my dad and now, as I plan the second trip this Easter, I'm even more excited because I will meet a few more cousins.  Of course my Aunt Cindy will be making the trip with me, as she did the first time.  She is such a wonderful influence on my life and as she meets all these people she is just as excited as I am.  I love that about her!

Accidents Happen

Once as a young police officer I got a call of a burglar alarm at a shoe store downtown.  This was during winter, and it had snowed a foot or so with a layer of ice underneath.  I pulled up along the side of the building where the alarm was going off.  I was very careful, not pulling headfirst into the marked, metered spaces, because I was not sure I would be able to back out from a downward incline.  Instead I parked parallel to the curb and proceeded toward the alarm.  Thirty or so minutes later I headed back to my car after the call was over.  False alarm, as many of them tended to be, and just a few hours from the end of shift.  As I put the car in drive and hit the gas, nothing happened.  I couldn't get traction.  Inexperienced in the snow, especially as a driver (having been born in CA and spending most winters there), I pressed the accelerator of my squad car a bit harder and it came alive.....except that the only part that came alive was the rear end, which shot out to the side as it hit ice beneath the snow.  The driver's side rear quarter wrapped itself around the nearest parking meter, causing parts and pieces of the car to go every which way.  I had never been in a wreck.  I had worked plenty of them, but had never actually been in one.  I did what any 19 year old would do in that situation.  I burst into tears.  After a minute I pulled myself together and called for a supervisor.  Of course, it was a slow day and instead of just coming on over, my Sergeant wanted to chat.  On the radio.  For everyone to hear.  He said, "Whatcha got?"  and me, trying to remain calm and professional, "10-50" (Ten code for accident).  Sarge (knowing if I was calling a supervisor to an accident scene, that I was probably involved) said, "What'd ya hit?"  Me (losing it now and trying not to cry) "a paaaaaaaarking meeeeeeeter" wahhhhhh.  So embarrassing.  So now, I know that most everyone on duty is on their way to see the little police girl and what kind of damage she has done.  I looked around wanting to melt into the snow, and I noticed that a large piece of my rear fender had hit the meter with enough force to be thrown about 40 or 50 feet away from my car.  Yikes.  I did not want anyone to think I had been so careless as to hit with that much momentum, I ran down and picked up the piece and tried to just toss it nonchalantly amongst the closer pieces.  By the time the sergeant and most of the rest of the shift got to my location, I had gathered my thoughts (and car parts) and was trying to really shrug it off.  That is until one of the guys followed my footprints (in that foot deep snowfall) to where the large broken car piece had originally been laying----  He looked at the evidence, looked at me, looked at how close I was to tears again and probably thought "this just ain't worth it" and didn't say a word.