Karbon Kounty Moos

When you look into my eyes
And you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
It always comes as a surprise
When I feel my withered roots begin to grow
Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
That’s all right, my love, ’cause you’re my home

When you touch my weary head
And you tell me everything will be all right
You say, “Use my body for your bed
And my love will keep you warm throughout the night”
Well I’ll never be a stranger and I’ll never be alone
Whenever we’re together, that’s my home

Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike
Indiana’s early morning dew
High up in the hills of California
Home is just another word for you

Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
That’s all right, my love, ’cause you’re my home

If I travel all my life
And I never get to stop and settle down
Long as I have you by my side
There’s a roof above and good walls all around
You’re my castle, you’re my cabin and my instant pleasure dome
I need you in my house ’cause you’re my home.
You’re my home.

You’re my home.

(Hat tip to Billy Joel for the lyrics.)

The Sugar Beet Baron and I are happy to be home. The pack is thrilled to have us here, too. We’re hoping to be here for a long, long time.

Finally.

There it was, in plain sight. Well, once I moved a package of paper cups from the front of it. And a package of paper plates from the top of it. We obviously don’t use paper plates or cups much.

Guess what we’re having for breakfast?

On second thought, get a rope. Then again, maybe I should reach out to some old friends from Queens. This qualifies as “a deserving to be hung out a window by the ankles offense”:

I had just brought my husband home from Red Lodge, where he had some blood drawn for labs. The Sugar Beet Baron wasn’t feeling right and had just laid down. I decided to check his blood sugar, to be sure that nothing else was going on. It was okay. The phone rang while I was reading the glucometer. For some reason, I picked it up.

Caller: Can I talk to the Baron?

Me: May I ask who’s calling?

Caller: John Doe.
(Who I do not know personally, but I know is an auctioneer.)

Me: May I ask what this is in reference to? My husband has been sick, and he is resting right now.

John Doe: I didn’t know that he was sick. I’m calling because I heard that your father-in-law and the Baron are selling the farm and all the equipment.

Me: This is the first that I’ve heard of it.

John Doe: Well, I’m with Dough Auctioneering and our business. . .

Me (interrupting): I just told you that as the Baron’s wife, I haven’t heard anything about selling. So, if you heard that my father-in-law is selling, maybe you should be calling him.
(This is when I hung up.)

*************************

A few hours later, I was in the yard, filling bird feeders. A Suburban pulled into the yard. An area realtor got out.

Me: The Baron isn’t up to company.
(Let’s not bring up the fact that you’ve never been company before.)

Realtor: Is he really, really bad?

Me: No, he’s really, really resting.

Then we lapsed further into the realm of the ridiculous. He asked questions as I answered them, wondering why we were having a conversation in the first place.

He went back to his Chevy and said, ” Oh, before I forget, I have something for you.” He handed me three sheets of paper that he’d printed off the internet - another cancer cure. I went inside before I threw it away.

********************

The next morning I decided to call John Doe.

Me: May I ask who I’m speaking with?

John Doe: This is John Doe.

Me: Good. This is Moos and I wanted to speak with you in regards to the telephone conversation that we had yesterday. I think that the conversation should have ended once I told you that my husband had been sick.

John Doe: I think that there was a misunderstanding. You don’t understand my business.

Me: No, I don’t think that I misunderstood. I think that if you couldn’t have ended the conversation I understood completely. You continued on, telling how “you heard that we were selling the farm and all the equipment”. I told you that I didn’t know anything about that, and you just kept right on going.

John Doe: You don’t understand my business.

Me: And then you have to tell me about “your business”. I do not live under a rock. I know who you are and what “your business” is.

John Doe: You don’t understand my business.

Me: I wasn’t aware that you drummed up business like a vulture.
(Hung up.)

**************

And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The letter from John Doe. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Dear Mrs. Moos:

The purpose of this is to convey to you my sincere apologies for any offense you may have experienced with respect to my call on Monday.

I noticed a sort of general feeling of unfriendliness, and I knew that I must have done something wrong when I called. I will not even begin to give an explanation to what led up to my call, but I’d like to take this time to say I’m terribly sorry to you and the Baron. I would prefer speaking in person, but I sense that would not be of interest to you.

Let me assure you that what happened in your case is not typical of John Doe’s level of customer service. We continue to be committed to providing you and all of our customers with the highest standards of service in the industry.

If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to call me at ———–.

Sincerely,
John Doe

The Sugar Beet Baron and I were happy to be home. After breakfast, we went into the living room to read the newspaper. Someone sped through the driveway to the field. I went out the door and saw that a pickup had stopped. Someone was getting out to open the gate. I called out, and a guy got in the pickup, then backed up to the house. It was windy and cold. I was standing there in my pajamas. The driver was a knucklehead who has been coming out to hunt for the last few years.

He said: “Oh, I didn’t know that you were home. If I had known you were home I would have stopped. I was just talking to your father-in-law, he said it was okay for me to chase up those geese.”

I said nothing.

He said: “If there’s ever anything that I can do for you, just let me know. I didn’t know that anyone was home, if I did, I’d have stopped.”

I said nothing and went back inside.

The knucklehead left soon after.

The next day I related the story to my father-in-law. He said that he had not spoken to the goose hunter. He also said that he had been trying to catch him the last few times that he’d been on the place. Not only had he left gates open, he had been moving cows around.

So I called the hunter and said: “Remember the other day when you said, ‘if there’s anything that I can do for you?’ Well, you can stay off the place.”

Those who truly care about my husband.

Those who have gone out of their way to help.

Those who’ve sent sincere cards, wishes, thoughts and prayers.

The family that has always been there for us.

The friends - old & new.

Those who have stayed connected and tried to make things easier.

The nurses, doctors and all the health care workers.

The dentist, who has managed to fit me in on a second’s notice.

The crew at Archie Cochrane Ford who made me cry - in a good way.

Thank you all.

The Baron and I were in his hospital room. He was tired, finally able to relax. I was in the recliner, also trying to rest my eyes. Earlier, he had hung up on yet another upsetting phone caller. There had been too many visitors who stayed too long that day. Our Care Coordinator came in and told us that there were some ladies from his church outside to see him. Allan told her that he just wanted to get some sleep. I offered to tell them, but the Care Coordinator said she’d tell them.

Moments later, our Care Coordinator came in, with a stricken look on her face. One of the “ladies from the church” had asked her, “Is he softly slipping?”.

Our Care Coordinator had to hold me back.

Any thoughts?

I didn’t think that this would be necessary - but it is. . .

1. Imagine yourself in the ailing person’s place.

I haven’t observed many doing this, and it is very important.

2. Do not visit if you are hacking, coughing or sniffling.

They’re already sick. Enough said.

3. If there’s a sign on a door that says to check at the nurse’s station before entering a room - do it.

It is there for a reason.

4. Do not question the person, nurses, doctors or care givers about the person’s health.

Are you a doctor - or are you writing a book?

5. Do not ask the person, nurses, doctors or care givers, “When are they going home?”.

Most of the time, we wish we knew. You don’t need to remind us.

6. Do not go into someone’s hospital room while they are asleep and park yourself at the foot of their bed until they wake.

This happened a few times. One time the Baron thought that he woke up in hell, since he was surrounded by people that he did not want to see.

7. Do not visit someone that you would not visit normally. It’s disconcerting to have a parade of visitors who you never socialized with suddenly showing an interest in you.

This happened too many times.

8. Do not start discussing work or business.

Try once again to understand the concept of rest, recuperation and no stress.

9. If you are told that the person is sleeping, resting, bathing, “not up to company”or needs their rest - respect that.

I don’t understand why this is so hard.

10. If a person tells you that they are tired, or ready to go to sleep - leave or hang up the phone.

This seems simple to me, too.

11. If a person is obviously tired, even if they’re not saying it - leave.

Pretty simple. I remember when my Dad was in the VA. If he looked tired, someone would say, “Come on, let’s go down to the coffee shop and let John get some rest.” That was close to thirty years ago. Not one person did this for my husband the last month. Just because you enjoyed company when you had your hernia operation, stroke, heart attack - fill-in the blank - does not mean that the ailing person is anxious for company. So you can stop telling us about that, thank you.

General Stupid Questions Not to Ask:

A. “When are you getting out of here?”

See #5 above.

B. “What’s the prognosis?”

See #4 above.

C. “Where’s the cancer?” also heard as “What kind of cancer do you have?”

I feel that it takes a lot of courage for a person to share that they have a serious illness, including cancer. I don’t think that everyone has to know every detail of the illness. The fact that someone is brave enough to tell you this should be sufficient. We’re not keeping secrets here. But this is a very private matter. See #1 above. My husband chooses to tell who he wants what he wants. I’m respecting that.

D. “What exactly is going on?”

This is when someone wants to know everything. I’m sorry, but it would take several hours to go into. I simply do not have the time or the energy. And again, why do you need to know? Accept the fact that my husband is ill and that he has faith in his God , his doctors, his nurses and his wife.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re ever gonna make it home again
It’s so far and out of sight
I really need someone to talk to, and nobody else
Knows how to comfort me tonight
Snow is cold, rain is wet
Chills my soul right to the marrow
I won’t be happy till I see you at home again
Till we’re home again and feeling right

(lyrics for the most part by Carole King)