This Time Was Different

I've been used to having my blood drawn monthly for years. I've never been afraid, only annoyed when I knew I could have done a better  job.

It was different this time. I sat shivering in the sterile, turquoise, padded, chair. This was no normal blood draw, this draw could mean life or death.

I watched her every move, not out of casual observance, but out of questioning and fear.

The lab tech fumbled around searching for a rubber tube to tie around my bicep. As she did, a single tear fell from my right eye.

"Are you ok dear?"

"Yes, I've had blood drawn almost monthly for years. It must just be my contact."

She went about gathering the tubes, needle, and an alcohol patch. When she found her items, my heart began to beat more quickly, the room began to spin, and darken. I felt a touch on my shoulder, "Teri, breathe, it's going to be ok, just breathe."

I inhaled deeply and, with the oxygen I pulled into my lungs, the light returned, the room normalized, and I was more stable than before.

I watched as she wrapped the tubing around my arm, and as she tore open the packet that contained the gauze soaked in alcohol.

I began to feel lightheaded once more and turned to the right, I could no longer watch. I  deepened my breathing. I then felt the coolness of the alcohol on my skin, and a tiny sting.

Within seconds, within an eternity, it was over. She had three tubes, containing crimson fluid that had once flowed through my veins, in her hands and set them aside. A gauze pad was placed on my arm where the needle had been inserted, and it was secured with paper tape.

I stared at the tubes knowing any of the three could be a death sentence. My head was spinning, my world was spinning. My thoughts were consumed, not only with my own mortality, but with my friends, my family and everything in between.

"Teri, you look rather pale. I'd prefer it if you would sit here for a minute or two."

I didn't have enough energy to challenge her on the subject. I settled into the chair, leaned my head against the hard, concrete wall, and breathed slowly, and deeply.

After a bit, she  released me to go on my way. I was on my way to wait days for the results, agonizing days.

About a week had passed and a nurse called. She quickly said said, "Teri, we have one of the tests back and it's positive. You need to come in as soon as possible."

I dropped my phone and it fell to the stone floor. Tears flowed from my eyes. I put my head on the island and cried as never before. I didn't think of the other tests, or their potential results, I just mindlessly cried. It was if the tears would, themselves, wash away the reality of the results I'd just received.

I pulled myself together to make needed calls, and after I crumbled onto the bed, I cried until I slept.

xo

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Motorcycles and Bikers? I'm In!

If you're expecting something lyrical and moving, jump off the train here. Not one of those nights, thank goodness!

I think most of you know, by now, I'm the Social Media Coordinator for Motorcycle Travel America, which is kinda weird, me social? I know, I know, social I am for sure. By the way, if you haven't checked out Motorcycle Travel America, go do it. Even if you're not a biker, we support incredible causes, take a look and join, it's free! Cool, huh?

While you're at it, check out my biker blog that I write to help promote the Foundation, Two Wheels and The Curves, give a girl some support. It's relatively new, so follow me, give me some encouragement....please?

Where the hell was I going with this, oh yes, my awesome friend that founded Motorcycle Travel America sent me a message on Facebook a couple of weeks ago. She said one of the board members wanted to meet me. Ok, I have to admit, I was thinking.....uh, why?

We met at this awesome place for lunch, Fenders Moto Cafe and Brew Pub. Shout out to Michael Thomas and his wife....incredible job guys! The food? Well, I'll be there A LOT.

I met the mysterious, to me, board member, Steve Folkestad. Steve happens to be one of the co-founders of the Hell's Canyon Motorcycle Rally in Baker City Oregon, and he lives maybe two miles from my house. Craziness.

I was a bit leery at first. I had messaged him a couple of times on Facebook telling him I was looking forward to meeting him, and just general small talk, and he seemed rather quiet to me. One word answers? I'm not really familiar with them, so I wasn't sure he was gonna like me much.

When I met him, he lit up the room. What an amazing, funny, incredible, and genuine man. Right off the bat he handed me a brochure, opened it up and asked if I recognized a picture in the booklet. It was me!

He then handed me a stack of fliers, some more information, a shirt (and gave me permission to make it a bit more girlie with a bit of sexy thrown in), and asked if I would be the Ambassador for this year's Rally......uh, no brainer! Heck yes! I LOVE that Rally! It was quite the honor, and I am SO excited, but I'm still not really sure what all it entails......just like me, jump in and swim. 

Then he sent me a message via Facebook and gave me the most amazing compliment, "Thank you for agreeing to help. Your energy will be a great asset for the rally. Adventure awaits."  I then received another Facebook message from him. He asked if I would go work a day at the Seattle Motorcycle show in a couple of weeks. Score me! I get to hang out, promote the rally, talk to bikers, see the new bikes, and hang in Seattle. I'm down with that. 

The Rally this year is July 10-14, which gives me time to prepare my Ambassador smile. Bottom line, if you ride a bike, I better see you there, NO exceptions!

Get your bike ready, register at the Hell's Canyon website, and come meet the Diva, oh, hang with bikers, check out the many vendors, and ride some of the most incredible rides you'll ever ride.

I'm keeping my eye out, I'm watching you!

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Flickering Flames

As with every haunting memory, they manifest more boldly at night.

She was lying on her right side, in the center of the king sized bed, with her tiny, pup snuggled up against her thigh.

The pillow was formed to support her neck, and the right side of her face was burrowed down touching the pillow's soft, ironed, case.

Her right arm was angled up, so her hand could reach her head. She ran her fingers through her long, blonde, tresses, tugging at them softly, and twirling some around the tip of her first finger.

Memories of old held her captive. They were as real as the over head fan that caused the air to flutter around her. The breeze that was created left her bare skin trembling, yet she lay there, with the sheets about her waist, while gazing deeply into the flickering flame of the candle beside her. Her thoughts had traveled back in time and she could not will herself to keep them buried.

She felt him beside her, his arm stretched over her waist, and his hand softly touching her stomach. His breath was even, deep, and comforting. His presence, even while sleeping, gave her a feeling of safety, and comfort. The pure, raw, love that was emitted from his being was filling the voids she had forever lived with.

As her thoughts ran deeper she could plainly see his face as she had when she was on her stomach, with her head propped in her hands, studying him while he slept. Every line on his face could be seen, every curve traced. She clearly saw his chest rise and fall with each breath, and her soul smiled.

It wasn't until a fully formed tear trickled down her cheek that she was transmitted back into the present. The trickle of a tear became a river, a river that seemed to have no end and no beginning.

While still watching the dancing flame of the candle, she pulled the sheets up and around her chilled body. She then  leaned up on her elbow and gently blew out the glowing flame before placing her head back on the pillow, and she continually attempted to dry the free flowing tears with the dampened sheets.

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Velvety Darkness

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The blackness of night had fallen over Bangkok by the time the jumbo jet had lifted from the ground of the bustling Asian metropolis.

I surveyed the well-lit city through the oval window to my right. My head was cradled snuggly into the side cushion of the seat I had been assigned. I was mesmerized as I am each time I fly when the land beneath is cloaked in velvety darkness.

The sight of glimmering lanterns, covering the acreage below, captivates me, and energy, not present when I ascend into a sun filled sky, overtakes my senses, and awakens my imagination.

The allure of shimmering lights, snaking their way through all obstacles they encounter, illuminated the expansive Thai city and held my mind captive.

I carefully studied the patterns, created by their glowing presence, and felt exuberant as I watched them dance upon the sunless portion of the planet.

Each light seemed to move in harmony with the heartbeat of the tightly bound core of the sprawling region, while at the same time, singing a song of its own. In my mind I envisioned  people as they hurried about, finishing business, before beginning their journeys home. I sensed the tempo of the melodies being played for people gathering to drink, dance, and laugh, leaving their cares behind, and I felt the spirit of its life force being transmitted into the universe.   

My eyes next followed the paths of lights, as they meandered  from the center of activity, into the outlying areas. I wondered if a small child was being soothed to sleep by a weary parent, or if a couple, deeply in love, was having dinner by the light of carefully placed candles, in homes that appeared dimly lit. I was curious as I watched flickers of red and blue making their presence known in the center of an intersection.

Then it happened. The giant, metal bird, that carried me to my next destination, was high enough to extinguish all glimmers of life from the sparkling globes that had rejuvenated me. I felt the energy they filled me with slowly dim.

I then burrowed into an airline provided pillow, closed my eyes. My thoughts then began to compare how our human lives are so very similar to the colors, and intensities, of the lighted globes I had been watching. Sometimes we sparkle, other times our lives take on different hues and tones, and sometimes we cease to be seen, or even exist. 

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Quelling The Kaleidoscope

Her thoughts gave her motion sickness. They reminded her of the roomful of black track, her father forced her to watch when she was a child, that had tiny cars, of all colors, racing about.

Some of the small, shiny, toys would travel the same path continually, never deviating from their steady pace, others would gather speed until they threw themselves from the track and rolled across the hardwood floors, only to crash into the nearest wall, marring the paint of the base moulding. 

The electrical smell of the track and the cars combined was also present in the deluge of the reality of events tumbling about with things that could be, and things that could have been, they were racing around the lobes of her brain and crashing into her skull. The lingering memory of the long ago odor only made the fog in her head more heavy and dense.

One thought could not be separated from another, and they became a gigantic mass, just as the cars would eventually have done, had her father not deliberately slowed their pace, and carefully re-positioned them on the track he had painstakingly pieced together.

She had always hated when she heard him call her name to watch the swirling cars, they hurt her head, they made her dizzy and the smell, along with the movement, sickened her stomach.

The movement of the thoughts was no different. It had to be their combination that left her feeling once more like a child. There were so many, ranging from intense anger, hurt, and the deepest pain of all pains, to fear, abandonment, joy, excitement, and physical agony. They all were heaped into one massive form that could not be divided.

Most of the feelings, on their own, with the exception of the abandonment and soul piercing pain, would have been easy enough to separate into containers and dealt with in their own time, but there was no time. Each had to be dealt with together, as a whole as soon as possible, or the ship would go down.

As the thoughts collided she kept glancing at the amber colored bottles, filled with a myriad of concoctions, that lay in groups around the room, and wondered which would quell the noise, and which would stop it for eternity, and she was determined to decide which option she would choose.

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The Guardian Bell

I caught a glimpse of it as soon as I pulled into the driveway this morning. A Guardian Bell, I have on my Harley, was dangling slightly below the weather proof cover that protects one of the loves of my life, my Heritage Softail. 

I always yearn to ride, but today caught me by surprise. It's December and cold rain is falling, so riding isn't that appealing, and I have a million details to attend to before embarking on my journey.  So many events have been swirling, like a tornado winding its way through my life, in recent months, that riding has been on the back burner. I've ridden some, but missed some major rallies due to unseen circumstances.

While I still was able to attend "bike nights" in the area, what I long for are more long trips. I had one planned for September that would have taken me down the entire Oregon and California coastlines, back up to hit Vegas for a few days, and on to catch the end of Street Vibrations before heading home to Portland.

I sat in the car for the longest time remembering trips past, and envisioning those yet to come. Yeah, I'm a chick, but the sound of pipes, the feel of the wind, and the biker bond is embedded deeply within my soul.

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Sometimes The Best Start With No Beginning

Well, maybe there is a beginning, one of feeling the need to write. I never know where those times will lead me, but have found that many times they are my best source of therapy.

My feelings this week have run the full spectrum. I've experienced colors unable to be seen by others, those that can only felt by the soul.

I've searched words, memories, and thoughts. I've looked forward, behind, and carried the weight of the presence.

Few answers have come, only more questions, more thoughts, and even more colors, There have been smiles, laughter, and tears, realizations, pain, and joy.

I've found real friendships, and seen the true, bitter, characters of others. The truest of friends, and family, are the ones that know the entirety of situations and have no gaps to fill in or imagine. The bitterness, and lack of character, has come from those with very little knowledge of the truth, other than the one they've formulated, those with no first hand knowledge, only speculation and the darkness of their own souls.

So, I guess, in retrospect, I have no need in my life for those that choose to spin tales with their tongues wagging, and their "truths" with eyes wide shut.

Peace Out,

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