Joyanna Adams

Stroking the Sensitive Nature of …

Nobody Cares: Stroking the Sensitive Nature of “WHAT?”

I had a blog already in my mind today, and was very excited to write it, and then I called a friend about meeting for lunch. Stella is what you call the quintessence of an American woman. She’s 73, and still takes care of not only her own business, but manages her 360-acre farm, with about 40 cows, 15 chickens, a boatload of ducks, 8 horses and 6 cats. She runs her own truck business out of her house. She makes enough money to buy herself a brand-new Mercedes. (If you saw her red Corvette in an earlier post, you know she loves cars.) She rakes in hay every summer to feed the cows in the winter, she’s a one woman wonder. A rare woman indeed. She a good friend.

She plans to leave her farm to her daughter. Micky. I called today to make sure we would meet at 1, but her daughter answered the phone, and right away she started to talk to me.

“How do I convince mom to get a website for the business?” she asked me. Mom was outside. I told her I would try to talk some sense into her at lunch and then I said, “Just go ahead and build one yourself.” Because evidently, Stella was not exactly up for the idea. I gave her a few pointers, but she needs to find out herself.

She’ll do fine.

“If it draws business, your mom will just smile and say…Okay!” I told her.

It wasn’t too much longer after that, that Barb called.

“Hey, can we move the time closer to this morning?” she asked.

“Sure.” I mean, what the heck, I sometimes feel like a prisoner here at home, and I have always made my own time. My office can STAY a mess. I might grow some tomatoes.

Then she said, “Carla bumped her head in the chicken house and her speech is slurry and slow. I told her to drive herself to the hospital.”

“WHAT?” I was in shock. “You said she bumped her head and was slurring her words and YOU LET HER DRIVE?” Okay, I was a bit calmer, but I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

“Yeah, well, at least she listened to me and took herself there.” Said mom. So proud of herself.

“Okay Stella…lunch is off. Get in your car, and hurry to that hospital. She could have had a stroke Stella, you don’t know, but you also don’t know what kind of care she will be getting. You need to be there to be in control of what’s happening.”

I was speaking from years of experience.

Stella wasn’t convinced…she thought it was just a bump on the head.

I knew that Stella had once been thrown from her horse, years ago, and was alone out in the field, and broke a lot of bones, and suffers still to this day with pain, but she refuses to let ANYBODY know it. She’s just so damn proud. Long story there, but it’s her nature. Don’t complain. Bear the pain. Be like a man. The farmers daughter grew up to make her dad proud.

I’ve had many discussions with her about how she believes she can do anything a man can do. I have to laugh, because she has a awful lot of MAN help around the farm.

So, I’m in a panic: 1^st, because she LET Micky drive herself on winding country roads to the hospital, which was 20 minutes away, and 2^nd, because she was still convinced, she could go about her day.

“Stella, let your phone business go for one day!” I spoke. I also know business is very slow right now. “She might have had a ministroke. My dad had many mini-strokes before his massive one. Once he fell on the golf course and they thought he was drunk. Then one day, I found him lying on the kitchen floor, and I said, “Dad, what are you doing lying there?”

“I was getting food for the dog.” He spoke. We took him to a local clinic who told us to take him to a hospital. We did. An emergency ward. He laid there from Friday night until Monday morning before he saw a doctor.

His brain had bled so severally, that they couldn’t see any brain for years.

So yeah, you have to watch them.

After I told her this, she said, “Okay, I’ll get to the hospital.”

Tonight, she just called, it’s about 8.30pm here, and told me that Micky had a stroke, her main artery in her neck was damaged, and they had her on blood thinners. And they told her she had Covid.

“For goodness’ sakes Stella, did they give her a vaccine? I talked to her on the phone and she didn’t sound sick at all. “Call her and tell her NOT to get the vaccine.”

“It will just make her sicker.” I warned.

“Okay, I’ll call her.” And then she once again, took credit for telling her to go to the hospital. Stella would NOT have gone to the hospital. In fact, she wanted to meet me for lunch. IN FACT, she then said, that they told Micky her artery would heal back…and she would just fine and “She’d better be because she has to work when I go to Africa.”

Now, here’s where ‘sensitive’ Joyanna comes in. Stella did not thank me for getting her to even GO to the hospital. I was a bit hurt by that. (that damn sensitivity)

But then I remembered that if your family has NO family history of strokes, you wouldn’t know the signs either.

My family has a history of strokes…and the history goes all the way back to JQA having a stroke on the House floor of Congress. Both my parents had hemorrhagic strokes and I took care of them at home for over 6 years. It’s the reason I quit the music business. They were both paralyzed. (Heavy smokers) Luckily, my husband had a job. We managed…but I had no sisters, or brothers to help, and they were both bedridden. My mother ended up on a stomach pump. Let’s just say it was stressful work. Dealing with all the hospital nurses, doctors, and home visits…I could write a book. A book that would rivil a Stephen King’s nightmare. (By the way, he’s become his own nightmare lately.)

 I was bound and determined not to put them in nursing homes, because they took care of me when I was little, and I figured it was my turn.

So yeah, I know a lot more about strokes, hospitals, the brain, than most people.

“I’m so sorry Stella, you must exhausted.”

But no, she sounded fine. “She’s coming home Friday and she’ll be just fine.” said Stella.

I wasn’t so sure…a rip in your neck artery? Uh…how long does that take to heal?

So, I think I’ll call Micky again on Friday, and say, “Get better, and spend some time on that laptop. It’s amazing what you might find. And try not to worry your mother. I think she’s still in shock.”

“And whatever you do, don’t let her drive the tractor.”

December 20, 2023 Posted by Joyanna Adams | Uncategorized | fiction, love, review, romance, story | 2 Comments