I just want to share a little, first... Hope that is okay with all of you... Had an unusual couple of days. Went to doctor's and had to go through the most significant regiment of x-rays on my body...ever...
Or maybe it seemed like that because I had to deal with the limitations of forced walking, with a walker, in order to get into different positions to have my knees and left hip available and in right positions to be viewed by the machine... Many times, the attendants had to actually move my body into the positions they needed me to be in...
You know folks (yes, I smile when I say that and think of my--our president when I purposely do it...) Anyway, can you imagine having lived for at least seventy years and never been in a hospital...then, to have a complete body collapse and have to start from the beginning and learn how to walk again, building up the muscles in legs and arms to do the things that were usually instinctive, done with no conscious effort. I have come to depend upon the many inventions and creations that have been conceived and created by so many scientists and inventors to make my and our lives easier... We must all thank God for those who care enough to think and make...and heal... all things necessary to help make our lives as comfortable as possible.
I use two walkers routinely. One was mandated when I had surgery to have a tumor removed from my brain. It has no brakes, only wheels on the front. That means, I must actually pick it up to move in another direction. It's light, so it's easy to do and makes me more conscious of what and where I walk.
On the other hand, my niece found a walker which has a seat, brakes and four wheels. I used this for shopping and was quite adept at taking care of myself years ago. By the way, the walker was given to my niece at a yard sale where it had been purchased for her father by the seller who asked why it was wanted. When she learned it was for "me," she gave it to us! I use it now to carry things like food and clothes from one place to another...
Apparently many older items can be found at thrift stores where they are donated when no longer needed in families... Soooo thankful people do this type of thing!
On the other hand, it is heartbreaking to see what is happening in Ukraine. Truly, it is a war between good and evil, especially as Putin doesn't care and is purposely attacking locations which are clearly marked as shelters, schools and other care facilities. Can we not see the difference between a democracy and a country ruled by an authoritarian, wanting only more power and greed being his only reason for committing such murders. Yes, to me, when there is absolutely no reason to kill, then it is murder. Putin is a war criminal as the world knows and watches...
The sad part is that, these days, there are criminals anywhere and everywhere. Their intent is to get what they want, with no concern about harming others to get it...
The book I stayed up reading all night after returning home from the doctor's visit, was an example of good over evil... I love medical thrillers and other mysteries based on this. It is important to see and know that good will win over evil, even if it is fiction. It troubles me because many books are based on truth. But they also inspire me to fight against the evil wherever it is found, especially in our country, America!
The concert hall was sold out. Thunderous applause for her had just died down, and this was the brief interlude before the music began. Her heart beat so loudly she feared the microphone would pick up the sound. She stood alone in the center of a large stage, a spotlight targeting her as if this were a prison break. In her right hand she clutched a violin with a bright amber finish and stunning marbled flame, expertly antiqued. Scanning the hall, she searched for the rangy man with square shoulders and the slender woman who was an older version of herself. There they were in their usual location, third row: Doug and Allison Banks, her parents. Her name was Susie Banks, and she was their only daughter, their pride and joy. Without their support Susie would not be standing on the stage of the Kennedy Center, chosen from hundreds of hopefuls to open the National Symphony Orchestra’s evening performance with a solo piece. This moment had seemed inevitable from Susie’s earliest days. She was two years old when she played her first song on the piano—a ringtone from her mother’s cell phone she had replicated by ear. Soon she began plinking out melodies she heard on the radio. By the age of five, Susie could play Bach’s Minuet in G Major, never having taken a lesson. Words like “prodigy” and “special” got bandied about, but Susie did not understand what it all meant, nor did she care. She had found this amazing thing called music, and the music made her happy. The day her mother put a violin in her hand, Susie’s whole world came into even sharper focus. She felt a kinship with the instrument, understood it in a profound way. One year into her study she flawlessly performed Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5 during a student recital.
For Susie, the notes were more than dots on the sheet music. As she played, she could see them dance before her eyes, swirling and twirling like a flock of starlings in flight. She would practice daily, hours passing like minutes, her joy unfettered and boundless. She did not have many close friends growing up, always needing to practice, or rehearse, or perform. Yet she never felt lonely, or alone. Music was her constant companion, her first true love. Now nineteen, Susie was poised for a professional career. She had taken a gap year between high school and college to work on her craft. With hundreds of concerts on her résumé, she had hoped her stage fright would be a thing of the past. But it was present as always and would remain with her until she played the first note. This was a hugely important showcase. The conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra was in the audience specifically to hear her play. If all went well, it was possible she would be moving to Chicago. Susie set her chin on the smooth ebony chin rest and pushed the conductor from her thoughts. All sound evaporated from the room. She had no sheet music to follow. She had long ago committed the Chaconne from Bach’s Partita No. 2 for solo violin to memory. She took one last readying breath,
drew the bow across the strings, and conquered the powerful opening double stop like a pro. The audience, the hall itself, seemed to vanish as she drifted into the other place where the music came from. Her body swayed to the rhythm and flow as Bach’s notes poured from her instrument. The bow and her fingers became a blur of movement. Susie kept her eyes open as she played, but she saw nothing while she felt everything.
A brilliant shrill wafted from the violin, a melody sparkling and pure in triple time, followed by an austere passage of darker, more muted tones. Years of dedication, all the things she had sacrificed, were worth it for this feeling alone, such indescribable freedom. She had reached measure eighty-nine, near the halfway point. Drawing the bow toward her, Susie geared up for the next variation, where the bass became melodic and the diatonic form resumed. Up to that point her playing had been perfect, but suddenly and inexplicably came a terrible screech. Susie’s arms jerked violently out in front of her, the bow dragging erratically across the strings. Her chin slid free of the chin rest as her violin shot outward. A collective gasp rose from the audience. Shocked, unable to process what had happened to her, Susie repositioned the violin. Her professionalism took over. Her reset was more a reflex than anything. She drew the bow across the strings once more, but only a warbling sound came out. The next instant, her arms flailed spastically in front of her again in yet another violent paroxysm, as if her limbs had separated from her body, developed a mind of their own. She tried to regain control of her arms, willing it to happen, but it was no use. The wild movements occurred without her thought, like those body starts she’d been having before she fell asleep: first the sensation of falling, followed by a jarring startle back into consciousness. Only this time she was wide awake. No matter how hard Susie strained, she could not stop her arms from convulsing. It was the most terrifying, out-of-control sensation she had ever experienced.
When the next spasm struck, Susie’s fingers opened. The violin slipped from her grasp and hit the stage floor with a sickening crack. Another gasp rose from the audience, this one louder than the first. Susie was helpless to do anything but stand facing everyone with her arms twitching like two live wires. As suddenly as those seizures came on, her limbs went still, as if a switch had been turned off. She raised her arms slowly, studying them with bewilderment. Then, she directed her gaze to the violin at her feet. For a moment she could not breathe. Murmurs from the audience reverberated in her ears. Bending down, she gingerly retrieved the broken instrument, fearing another attack was imminent. She stood up tall. The violin dangled at her side with a gap in the wood like a missing tooth. She searched the audience for her parents, but could not see them through the haze of lights and the blur of tears.
~~~
Distilled to a few words, Karen Ray’s job description was: protect the president’s family with your life. The family consisted of Ellen Hilliard, aka FLOTUS, the first lady of the United States, and Cameron Hilliard, the first family’s sixteen-year-old son and only child. Karen is a Special Agent and supervisor in Secret Service and, right now, her time is concentrated on Cam, the only son of The First Family. As expected, Karen has come to deeply care for the family, and especially Cam. So that when concerns for his health arose, she was immediately just as concerned as his mother.
I'm sure I picked this book which was published several years ago because I wanted to increase my knowledge of both politics and the issues confronting the president and his family. It proved to be both informative for that reason, but also a fantastic medical thriller! Full of suspense, tension, and, of course, intrigue.
Karen is divorced from another main character, Dr, Lee Blackwood, a Family Practitioner. They have a son, Josh, who has a military background, but is presently considering what to do with the rest of his life... All three members of this family take a leading role in the novel.
And it all starts when Karen is concerned enough that she recommends to the First Lady, with whom she has become close, that a second opinion is needed, from that of the White Hall Physician, Dr. Gleason, who wants to start Cam seeing a psychiatrist. Cam does not want to go... From Karen's perspective, she isn't sure that Cam needs to go. And, his mother, Ellen, wants what is best for his son...
One other plot twist is that both Suzie, Cam, and the Family's physician's son all are involved with the True Potential Institute, a unique educational center dedicated to helping D.C.’s most gifted children develop mastery in a variety of disciplines.
You know, I could be wrong, since I had a bias going into this book, but it seemed to me that the writers prefer the time when Family Practice...and having a Family Doctor...was best. I wish that was still the case! I miss having a doctor with whom I can share every issue, and who comes to know me well enough to be able to consider my entire medical history, as it relates to my medical care. Believe me, without going into detail, what they call specialists these days can result in some really bad experiences for patients attended by them. And so, it was, that the Family Doctor, Karen's ex-husband, became the main male character and I loved him and how he was portrayed...
I can still remember my last family doctor who was with me during the time I went into clinical depression. After many years together, when he told me simply..."you must choose between your job and your life," I quickly chose my life! And looking back, all the frustration, turmoil, and anger of what happened to me...when I came back to work...does not make me regret listening to my doctor and heeding his words...
The president is a centrist politically and often has different opinions with his wife. It was interesting to be able to consider what a centrist president is like--you never really know how he's going to react to...just...about...anything. I can see that this could be a good thing if he was able to evaluate each issue and act for the good. But I can also see that it may take him longer to be able to be seen as making the right choice or decision at times of emergencies...
And especially, when Cam, his son, is physically in trouble. In fact, his early symptoms, and later, were similar to Suzie Banks. Cam's predominant skill and love was as a chess champion. But lately, he has been unable to maintain the attention needed...and he has been losing... which could be making him depressed, but not necessarily clinically depressed...
So when Cam acknowledges that he knows something is wrong, but does not believe he needs a psychiatrist, conflict sets off one of the strangest, unusual, complex, and exhaustive medical evaluation that would, perhaps, ever occur... Because crime was happening... But the who, what, where and why of all of it became mind-boggling to everyone! Including me, the reader. And then the murders began. I was able to finally, almost to the end, know fairly confidently who the mastermind behind the deaths was...but not the why! This turned out to be one of the best who-dun-it mystery, suspense, and thrillers I've ever read. And I don't dare add anything further about the story~ You've got to read it to believe it! And it needs to be discovered as you read!
I had read the medical novels by the Palmers, but did go out and pick up two additional political related novels...I must say as an additional incentive, if you need it, I've found that fiction novels are an exceptionally great way to learn more about the inner workings of politics! This is not necessary related to today's headlines, but it does show the frustration and interaction within the family of The First Family and how they prioritize family versus the demands of the nation. A significant reason if readers are interested...so I highly recommend!
Just a few more commends about what's happening with me... I had a number of concerns pre-surgery... I made sure I covered them. I hope you are doing the same. If you don't think you'll remember to ask, write the questions or topics down, like I did. My final question to the surgeon was about the percentage of effective recoveries... It is about 90%! Relief flooded me. Isn't it interesting how you can have something bothering you, but as soon as you know the truth, the reality, you feel like at least 80% of the burden is lifted? When the surgeon told me bluntly that the hip itself is in bad shape, I was relieved to know that the pain was definitely caused by and hopefully will be healed through the surgery. Sure, I'll need physical therapy, but I've been handling that for years... I'm just hoping and praying that I'll one day be able to walk again, even if I still have to use my trusty cane...for security.
Walking...how precious it is... How precious is the body that God gave to us... And here's what I know and want to share with you! I Never Walk Alone!
God Bless
Glenda
