Cindi Saadi
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Adopting Stella
(Column from The Bowie Blade-News)
Saadi says Reporter adopts homeless dog, finds new friend
By Cindi Saadi
Who has four legs, the sweetest face, loves to cuddle and looks absolutely charming in her already growing wardrobe of sweaters and coats (including one Redskins sweater, of course)? The newest canine member of my family, a sweet 13-pound mutt that Ive named Stella Bella. Yes, I finally found a new canine companion and have fallen in love with her. I met Stella at the D.C. Animal Shelter Jan. 5, and one week later, just in time for my birthday, she was safe and warm with me in her new home.
I could not have asked for a better birthday gift.
For a few months I had been searching the Internet, visiting shelters and checking their Web sites on a regular basis. Although I had already checked the D.C. shelter's Web site that sunny Thursday afternoon, I decided to pop in anyway and see who else might have arrived. I even remember having a good feeling as I drove west on Route 50.
I walked into the kennel area and in the very first cage was a little, gray and white, hairy mess of a dog. The poor dog had matted lumps of hair all over her and what resembled dreadlocks on her face. But, despite her bad hair day, her disposition was incredibly sweet. Her tail wagged happily and through the mats of hair, her eyes were wide and innocent. She seemed grateful to be there and best of all, happy to see me.
Our meeting felt like fate.
I immediately inquired about her and found out that animal control officers had just picked her up as a stray and brought her into the shelter a few hours earlier. By law, the shelter had to hold her for five days. So, I immediately put in my application and began the wait, visiting her as often as I could and hoping she would start to remember me. My sister, Nancy, and I also took her dog, Evie, to meet the new dog and the introduction was a success.
After they groomed my little unkempt mess, she barely resembled the same dog. She was still sweet and adorable, but had no hair and was a lot colder (hence the justifiable need for many sweaters and coats). Just six days after our first meeting, on the eve of my birthday, Stella had been spayed, my application had been approved, my home visit was completed and I was able to pick up my new friend and bring her home.
My quest for a new dog began several months after losing my best pal, Buddy, last year. After 16 happy years together, losing Buddy was heartbreaking. For a while I could not imagine having another dog. I only wanted Buddy back. I can still cry when I think of my little boy or see his photo, but I know that his time here was over and I believe he is much happier where he is now. I would also be willing to bet that Buddy played a part in my finding Stella.
Now it amazes me that even with the depth of love I had for Buddy, I have been blessed with another priceless canine-human relationship. Even my usually grumpy, nonanimal-person editor acknowledged the much happier reporter in the office and credited the change to Stella Bella's arrival.
The grieving process is different for everyone, and although some people get a new dog right away, I just couldn't do it. I admit I occasionally wished I would have begun my search earlier since what started out as grief, soon evolved into a sad, uncomfortable feeling of withdrawal. I needed a dog! Buddy will occupy a place in my heart forever, but there was still a gaping hole in my heart that I knew only a dog could fill.
Another important family member, aside from Nancy, deserves much credit for helping me through this difficult time of transition. Evie was a lifesaver and I will always be grateful for the bond we share. Evie loved Buddy for many years and suddenly, her cohort was gone. She was grieving too. And although Evie was smart enough to figure out that being the only dog does have its perks, she was still sad and lonely. Although family, friends and our faith help us through hard times, animals can reach us in a unique way. Evie was there for me in a way that no one else could be. She is a special soul and my friend, but she is ultimately my sister's dog and thus a void remained.
My search for the new Saadi dog made one sad fact very, very clear. There are far too many homeless animals. The shelters and rescues are overwhelmed. I encourage anyone considering buying an animal from a store or breeder to visit some shelters and check Petfinder.com or shelter and rescue Web sites first as there are many wonderful, loving animals in need of a good home. There are even rescues for most pure breeds and many particular mixed breeds.
If you seek to adopt an animal from a rescue or shelter, you should be prepared for varying degrees of a background check as these organizations want to make sure that the animals are going to loving and suitable homes. Even though the search was sometimes frustrating, for me it was well worth it. The application process at the D.C. Animal Shelter went smoothly and easily. The staff and volunteers were kind and efficient and their love and passion for animals was evident.
Stella and I were lucky.
I dont know what Stella Bella's whole story is, where she lived or how long she was running loose in the capital city, but she is home now.
She is home in my house and home in my heart, to stay.
Published 01/26/06, Copyright © 2006 The Bowie Blade
Historic Horse Ride
Horse ride through Bowie makes history
By CINDI SAADI Staff Writer
As he rode quietly through Bowie on his white horse, Matt Parker knew he would soon complete a historic feat while fulfilling a meaningful quest. The 25-year-old from Ann Arbor, Mich. and his Appaloosa named Cincinnati recently passed through Bowie near the end of a two-and-a-half-year trip that began in California in May 2003 and ended Nov. 3 in Lewes, Del.
Parker, the first person to travel on horseback across the country on the American Discovery Trail, called his cross country expedition a ride of passage. "I really wanted a character-building experience and hoped to gain a better understanding of my place in life and of what benefit I can be," he said. Parker carries with him an article titled, 'The Entitlement Generation,' and said his ride also speaks to a greater sickness present in his own generation. "I am disappointed in my generation and have not seen a lot done by or for them There are not many rites of passage anymore and there is not much expected of youth today. People my age need to see the effect they can and do have on everything and everyone," he said.
The ADT has a northern and southern route covering a total of 6,800 miles and is the nation's only coast-to-coast, nonmotorized trail. With its end points at Point Reyes National Seashore in California and Cape Henlopen State Park in Delaware, the trail serves as a unique corridor, taking hikers, bikers and now horseback riders through cities, small towns, historic and cultural sites and national forests and parks. Parker traveled approximately 4,000 miles, riding 15 to 25 miles per day and took time off during winters and for injuries.
For Parker, the ADT gave his ride additional purpose as he was able to give back to the trail in various ways. For example, during the ride, Parker came across sections of trail that were not designed with horses in mind. The ADT gave him the freedom to ad lib as necessary, selecting the optimum route for horse travel and thus, essentially pioneering the equestrian route of the ADT for future riders.
At a ceremony honoring Parker Nov. 3 at Cape Henlopen State Park, Executive Director of the ADT Society Susan Butch Henley, acknowledged Parker's efforts to map out a safe route for future riders on the trail and presented him with a plaque to honor his accomplishment and contributions.
Parker also tried to establish lodging along the trail for riders and their horses. Whereas hikers and bikers can easily stop for the night in a motel or hotel, Parker said traveling with a horse has unique challenges. "My needs were always secondary. It was all about getting him (the horse) to a pasture or barn so he could rest and just be a horse," he said. Although Parker and various ADT state coordinators did their best to prearrange overnight accommodations for Parker and his horse, the pair often found themselves at the mercy of strangers and occasionally camping out on their own. Parker said he received assistance from people from all walks of life and generally noticed that it was often the people with the least to give who were the most willing to help.
The pioneer discovered an undeniable interconnectedness that exists between our communities and cities across the country. "I have a much greater understanding of the interdependence of all people. There are no self-made men or women," he said.
The success of Parker's trip was also due to the interdependence of man and beast. Cincinnati, formerly known as Silver, traveled nearly 3,000 miles with Parker and after taking a break this spring to heal from an injury, finished the trip as Parker's co-star. Parker got Silver in Utah and renamed him in honor of his grandfather who was from Cincinnati and who supported Parker's adventure, but died prior to the start of the trip. Parker said that although many horses have the physical strength to accomplish such a feat of endurance, not all have the heart for it like Cincinnati did.
Parker also gave credit to the three other horses who helped him complete the journey. He started the trip with a Racking Horse named Smokey, followed by Little Face, a Missouri Fox Trotter, and finally a quarter horse named Handsome Larry, who filled in when Cincinnati was injured.
Parker's journey was not without problems and setbacks. He and his horses sustained injuries and illnesses, encountered trail route difficulties and lived under the threat of violence. He said there were times, such as low points in Utah and Kansas, when he thought about giving up. But Parker prevailed and in the process, gained a better understanding of his strengths and weaknesses. By the time he reached Illinois, Parker had fallen back in love with the journey.
When he passed through Washington, D.C., Parker met with several government leaders to discuss his experiences crossing public lands, as well as horse culture and issues related to the ranching industry. A highlight of the trip for Parker was meeting in D.C. with U.S. Rep. Joe Schwarz from Parker's home state of Michigan. "I really felt as though he respected what I had done and empathized with many of my feelings," said Parker.
Bowie resident Harry David Cyphers helped finalize Maryland's portion of the ADT and has been the state's coordinator for the past 14 years. "I was impressed with Matt's spirit and determination, as well as his persistence in adhering to the ADT corridor as much as was practical," he said. Cyphers was pleased that Parker was able to ride the trail from D.C. to Annapolis, proving that portion of the route was practical for horses as well as hikers and bikers.
On the final day of the ride, Parker and Cincinnati rode the last several miles into Lewes with an escort of eight riders from the Delaware Equine Council and the First State Coon Hunters. Elementary school children lined the sidewalks to greet the trailblazer and cheer him on to his final destination. Flanked by riders holding American and Delaware flags, Parker and his trusty companion reached the trail's end point and then crossed over the dunes to the Atlantic Ocean.
After taking a few moments alone with Cincinnati for reflection, a ceremony commenced during which Parker received recognition from the ADT, Delaware Equine Council and Delaware State Parks, as well as tributes from Delaware Gov. Ruth Ann Minner's office and both houses of the Delaware state legislature.
Parker's parents, Bill and Katie, were present for the ceremony and said they were proud of their son and relieved that his journey was complete. "It was a long haul and he had some troubles along the way. But he triumphed due to his grit and due to the kindness of strangers," said Katie.
Bill said when he first heard of his son's plan to cross the country on horseback he told him it sounded like a big challenge with some risks, but encouraged him to go for it. "I told him not to worry so much about speed and to remember that it was not a trip, but a journey," he said.
As for the future, Parker is initially interested in pursuing a job opportunity on Capitol Hill. Although he also has a desire to serve in the Peace Corps and undertake graduate studies in biblical archaeology, for now he is looking forward to the simple pleasure of not having to worry about where he and his horse will sleep.
At the conclusion of the ceremony, an emotional and tired Parker thanked his parents and everyone who had supported him on the trip. He left everyone with a final remark about patriotism and said that as he slowly crossed the country and more time passed since the attacks of 9/11, he noticed fewer and fewer American flags on display. "I want to remind people that there are so many things in this country that are great and we all have the opportunity to do something extraordinary," he said.
Published 11/17/05, Copyright © 2005 The Bowie Blade
Losing Buddy
Saadi says: Losing a much-loved pet can be truly heartbreaking
If someone said that I look like I lost my best friend, they would be right. I recently had to have my 16-year-old dog, Buddy, put to sleep.
Buddy was really better than a best friend. Whereas even the best of friends can have their problems, our love for one another was uncomplicated and unwavering. We were nearly inseparable. He was my constant companion for almost 16 years. Buddy was a true pal, he was my buddy. I got him during my senior year of college in Texas, and he stole my heart in our first moments together.
Some people ask how a person can become so attached to a dog. Love is love ~ period.
It did not take long for Buddy to become a part of me. Our lives blended together, as did our hearts and souls. We became allies, a real pair. Through thick and thin, joy and drama, he was always there loving me, a steadfast presence. In 16 years of photos, he is there by my side for nearly every event.
Buddy could always make me laugh and smile and he licked away my tears. He also protected me and kept boyfriends in line. In an uncertain world, Buddy was an anchor of stability and comfort. Nothing I ever had to bear was that scary because he was there. Even now, I feel his strength with me.
Buddy was a character. The adorable little terrier-mix from Texas had a big bark and a tall attitude. He liked dogs his size or smaller, but would try to chew the faces off of bigger dogs. He detested roller skates and skateboards and was not too fond of children. Neighborhood kids liked Buddy anyway and always yelled to him from a safe distance.
Buddy absolutely loved to hang his head out the window on car rides. He also enjoyed sitting by our back fence, guarding his domain and had an internal clock that said it was time for a walk. A pampered pooch, he slept in my bed, or wherever he so desired. Buddy ate health food, took an assortment of vitamins, herbs and supplements, and saw a holistic vet. But truth be known, meats and sweets were his favorites. He loved steak, hamburger, ice cream, chicken, barbecued shrimp and occasional pieces of the forbidden chocolate. Whatever treat I had, Buddy always got some and I always saved him the last bite.
Appropriately, my independent little dog was born on the Fourth of July and he always had a birthday party, complete with guests, gifts and hats.
Buddy was loyal, forgiving, loving, happy and content. No matter how ridiculous I acted in front of him, Buddy never judged. He gave me the freedom to be myself.
I do not believe we can attain the kind of unconditional love and acceptance in our human relationships that we get from our relationships with our dogs. A fundamental difference allows dogs to fulfill a uniquely intimate role with their human companion far better than any human could.
This year Buddy's legs became very weak. I used a belly sling to help him walk and got him a wagon, doggie stroller and had a four-wheeled cart specially made for him. Since Buddy recently seemed to enjoy swinging with me, a friend and I hung a swing from a tree in my front yard. Bud and I adopted a ritual of taking mini-walks in front of our house, followed by some time together on the swing. I still swing a few times a day to commune with Buddy and appreciate life.
Seeing the life fade from my boys eyes and the energy leave his body was indescribably painful. It felt as though a part of me was dying too. He became frail and weak and a fast-growing mass developed near his colon. Thankfully, when the time came, his vet was able to put him to sleep at home.
Right after Buddy died, I remember feeling like a different person. I am no longer Cindi and Buddy.
There is a big gaping hole, a quietness and I miss him like crazy. Although a constant presence in my life is missing, I can still feel him with me, just in a different way. Making the grief even more difficult is society's failure to understand the loss of an animal friend. It is not as acceptable to grieve for an animal as it is to grieve for a person.
However, I have met many dog-lovers who agree that losing a canine companion can be more difficult than losing a person. I am fortunate to have received loving cards, e-mails, phone calls and support from family and friends who understand the bond we shared and the painful depth of my loss. They comforted me with memories of how Buddy touched their lives, and I chuckled at one friend's image of Buddy in doggie-heaven, bragging about his life here with me.
I encourage people to open their hearts to the love of a dog or other animal. Writer Anatole France said, "Until one has loved an animal, part of one's soul remains unawakened."
I learned a lot from him and loved him without reservation. I am so happy he is at peace, and now I wait for peace to fill the aching, empty parts of my heart. The memories and photos of our adventures together give me great joy, and a part of my heart will belong to Buddy forever. Even now, I can tell that as my grief eases, it is giving way to a deep gratitude. I was so lucky to have such a wonderful friend for so many years.
Snoopy said it well in this Peanuts comic strip by Charles M. Schulz:
Charlie Brown: When you walk through a storm, is it true you shouldn't be afraid?
Linus: Not if you have hope.
Lucy: Why do the say, You'll never walk alone?
Snoopy: If you're lucky, your dog will be with you.
And I was so lucky. Thank you, Buddy.
Published 08/11/05, Copyright © 2005 The Bowie Blade
Lyme Disease
Diagnosis was elusive for woman with Lyme disease
Imagine that you cannot remember your 2-year-old's name or how to get to the grocery store. Your bones and muscles ache with pain and you feel like a 90-year-old with Alzheimers. This is how 29-year-old Jill Fleury described feeling for at least the past four years as a result of having Lyme disease and two related co-infections. A new bill proposed in Maryland offers hope for Fleury and the many other Lyme disease sufferers in the state to receive necessary treatment and insurance coverage.
"It feels like my brain doesn't work properly. It's very disturbing and embarrassing. I often forget what a conversation is about and just have to stop talking," said Fleury.
Fleury's list of symptoms is lengthy (41 so far) and includes severe problems with memory and concentration, muscle spasms, night and day sweats, extreme fatigue, sleep problems, and bone, joint and muscle pain.
"It hurts just to be touched or hugged and that is especially difficult when you have a toddler," said Fleury.
Fleury, who spent most of her life in Bowie, said she can look back now and see that some of her symptoms actually began in her early 20s.
When she became pregnant, her symptoms increased in severity and in number, but Fleury's doctors dismissed her symptoms as being pregnancy-related.
However, her symptoms only worsened after her son was born.
"I saw 12 doctors before finding my current doctor and the most disturbing thing was that a majority of the doctors told me I had anxiety problems. They thought I was making it all up or exaggerating," said Fleury who was diagnosed with everything from allergies to fibromyalgia.
Fleury said that knowledge and research about Lyme disease and other associated diseases is severely lacking. "I even saw an infectious disease specialist. He told me a spinal tap was the only way to detect Lyme, which is false, and told me if I had Lyme for more than one year I would be dead, also untrue. It is truly scary how little doctors know about Lyme," said Fleury.
So Fleury started her own investigation into her health problems. She learned more about Lyme disease and found what is referred to as a Lyme literate medical doctor, who has now been treating her for approximately two months.
Fleury's doctor had also had Lyme disease and experienced many of her symptoms. "It was so nice to have a doctor who knew exactly what I was going through and I felt relieved to finally have an answer," said Fleury.
Lyme disease is caused by the bacterium, Borrelia burgdorferi, which are transmitted to humans by the bite of infected deer ticks.
Early in the illness Lyme disease can be confused with the flu, but as the disease progresses it can lead to cardiac, musculoskeletal, neurological, and/or other system involvement. Patients with chronic Lyme disease often experience severe headaches, fatigue, pain, insomnia, and memory problems.
According to the International Lyme and Associated Diseases Society, the ELISA and Western Blot tests used to diagnose Lyme disease have only a 65 and 90 percent accuracy rate, respectively. Despite this relatively low degree of sensitivity, physicians and insurance companies must rely on these results.
As is not uncommon, Fleury's blood work did not indicate Lyme disease, nor could she recall having been bitten by a tick or having a characteristic bulls-eye shaped red rash. According to ILADS, fewer than 50 percent of Lyme patients report having the rash. "Lyme is a clinical diagnosis. All of a persons symptoms must be considered. You can't diagnose it solely based upon blood work or the presence of a rash," said Fleury.
The only abnormal blood test Fleury has had is for C-Reactive Protein, which is generally indicative of inflammation or bacterial infection. Although normal CRP results vary from lab to lab, results between zero and three are generally considered normal. Fleury's has been as high as 44, but since she began treatment with an LLMD and has been taking high doses of antibiotics, that number is down to 25 and approximately half of her symptoms have faded or ceased.
"It is hard to accept that I can't do several things in one day anymore. I have to just pick one," said Fleury. Fleury said she knows her limits and can tell on any given day what she is capable of doing.
Fleury fears that her son and even husband could have contracted Lyme disease from her. Although he has no symptoms of Lyme disease, Fleury worries that Lyme could have been transmitted to her son in the womb or through her breast milk. "Our worst nightmare is that our son will have to go through all of this," said Fleury.
Fleury's husband has begun to experience memory problems and bone pain and is being monitored by Fleury's doctor.
Dr. Richard Bach of Colmar, Pa. has conducted research on the sexual transmission of Lyme disease and has encountered many sexually-active couples with Lyme disease with only one partner having a history of tick-exposure.
Bach presented test results at the International Scientific Conference on Lyme Disease in 2001 that confirmed the existence of Lyme spirochetes in semen/vaginal secretions. Aware of entire families who have lost everything, Fleury worries that if her husband becomes ill, they might both be unable to work.
Aside from the difficulty associated with finding a doctor who is knowledgeable about Lyme disease, patients also face difficulties with health insurance coverage. In Fleury's case, her LLMD is not covered by her insurance, but her medications are. She explained that many people with more severe cases of Lyme disease require intravenous antibiotics for an extended period of time and insurance companies either do not cover intravenous antibiotics or will only allow for 30 days worth of medication.
ILADS reports there has not been one study to prove that 30 days of antibiotic treatment cures Lyme disease. According to ILADS, an uncomplicated case of chronic Lyme disease requires an average of 6-12 months of high dose antibiotic therapy and many patients require treatment for one to four years or until they are symptom free. Relapses of the disease have occurred and there are no tests available to assure whether the organism has been eradicated. Fleury worries that she will never truly be free of the disease or back to normal.
Fleury is very active with Lyme disease organizations and internet support groups. She sent her story to Maryland legislators as written testimony for a March 10 hearing on SB596, a bill designed to provide necessary treatment for those with Lyme and other tick-borne diseases. If passed, the bill would permit physicians to properly treat patients without being unjustly persecuted or required to adhere to restrictive or outdated guidelines.
For example, the bill would prevent the Board of Physicians from disciplining doctors who prescribe long-term antibiotic treatment for Lyme disease patients. The bill would also provide basic insurance coverage for treatment of Lyme and associated diseases.
Fleury would also like to see Lyme patients provided with government assistance during treatment. "In the past 18 months there is no way I could have worked. Sometimes it is all I can do to just get out of bed," said Fleury.
Sen. Richard Colburn co-sponsored SB596 and one of his legislative aides, Lynette Kenney, noted that over 40 people testified in favor of the bill last Thursday and at least 75 people sent in written testimony. A booklet of submitted testimonials from people located throughout the state of Maryland, titledMaryland Faces of Lyme, was distributed to members of the Senate Education, Health and Environmental Affairs Committee and may eventually be used for educational purposes.
Kenney stated it really takes people off guard when they find out how many people are suffering immensely physically, emotionally and financially. "There are families that have to sell their homes in order to pay for treatment. It is a huge problem that has been off the radar," said Kenney.
Kenney said several other states in the region including Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut and New York have passed or are debating similar legislation. The Maryland House of Delegates is considering a separate proposal, HB1323, which would establish a state Lyme disease task force.
According to the Center for Disease Control, there were more than 23,000 reported Lyme disease cases in the United States in 2002 and 95 percent of them were in an area including the East Coast, Minnesota and Wisconsin. According to the World International Lyme Disease Emergency Rescue Network, Maryland ranks sixth in the nation for the most cases of Lyme disease.
When asked how she handles raising a toddler amidst her health problems, Fleury stated she refuses to be a sick mom. "I do not want to miss out on my son growing up. That is just not an option," said Fleury.
Fleury would like to have another child someday, but has decided to wait until she is well and can be relatively assured there is no risk of the child getting Lyme disease from her.
Published 03/17/05, Copyright © 2007 The Bowie Blade
Short Story
My Uncle's Boots
by Cindi Saadi
As I stood on the beach that day, watching my uncle rip off his jacket and boots and run into the wintry water, I realized that I couldn't recall having ever seen his feet. In fact, I had come to think of his cowboy boots as part of him.
We had seen what looked like a body being thrashed by the waves against the huge rocks of the jetty. It would disappear in the foamy water and then surface again a few seconds later. As we ran closer, it looked like the body of a woman or a young person.
I couldn't remember the last time my uncle had been in the water, but before I knew it, he was swimming like a fierce Olympic competitor. I shivered, more out of fear than cold, and prayed for my uncle's safety. In that moment, my fear took me back to the fire he almost died in two years prior.
That fire took the lives of my parents and my uncle's wife. It was the summer I turned nine and we were all vacationing together in a quaint two-story beach cottage. The fire was attributed to old wiring upstairs and the firemen believed that flames had engulfed the second floor within minutes. My uncle and I had stayed up to watch late night movies together and both fell asleep downstairs. We awoke to the sound of the ceiling collapsing and without a second-thought, he scooped me into his arms and dodged burning beams to get me safely outside. I could hear my own screams amid the sound of sirens as he raced back inside for the others. The stairs were gone and there was nothing he could have done. He became trapped in the flames until a fireman pulled him out just before the house collapsed. Having thought that I was left completely alone, the sight of my uncle walking toward me with the fireman turned some of my bitter tears into tears of joy.
Standing on the beach, I was jolted back to the present moment as my uncle reached the body. It had only been a few minutes, but it already felt like he had been in the water for days. Waves crashed over him as he swam on his back toward the shore, holding the body against his chest. I ran into the surf and helped him up onto the sand.
It was a woman. My uncle felt for a pulse. He said, "She's alive," and told me to go and get help.
But I stood frozen and stared as my uncle moved her long, wet hair out of the way, propped her head up with his jacket, and began breathing into her mouth. When he stopped to press upon her chest, he looked at me and yelled, "Go Jess, go as fast as you can! She needs help."
It was a cold, dreary December day and the beach was deserted for as far as I could see. No one was fishing or walking a dog or even scouring the beach for shells. I ran to the parking lot where our car sat alone. I remembered we had passed a park ranger station and ran as fast as I could toward it. The cold air hit me like a wall and made it difficult to breathe. I thought about my uncle leaning over the woman, trying to get her to breathe. Why was she in the water? I couldn't remember what she was wearing. Was it a dress? The ranger station door was locked, but lights were on inside and two trucks were parked outside, so I pounded on the door.
A tall uniformed man appeared and asked what he could do for me.
Cold, scared, and out of breath, my answer sounded chopped up, "You have to come quick! Theres. a woman. She's almost dead."
The ranger yelled something back into the building and then grabbed my arm, pulling me toward his truck and asking me where the woman was.
I pointed toward the beach crossing and told him she was down near the jetty where my uncle had pulled her out of the water. "He's trying to get her to breathe," I said.
We got into his truck and when he turned the key, the heat came on full blast. It only took moments and the air was warm. I melted a little into the seat as he screeched out of the parking lot.
He radioed for an ambulance and called for additional officers. My heart raced as he drove out onto the beach and the truck bounced and spun through the sand. Fog had started to roll in, but in the distance I could see my uncle, still hunched over the woman's body.
"There they are!" I shrieked and pointed, though he could not have missed them.
My uncle looked blue and brittle. The ranger brought blankets from his truck and took over doing CPR. The woman still looked pale and lifeless. I found it hard to believe she was alive. How long had she been out there? Her tea-length dress was lacey and white, more of a summer wedding gown than a winter outfit. A small heart-shaped locket on a thin chain fell to the side of her neck. She had no shoes on and the only other thing she wore was a silver band on her left ring finger.
Paramedics and police arrived and my uncle, wrapped in a heavy brown blanket, relayed what had happened. I turned away from the commotion and in the distance, noticed something in the sand that looked like clothing. I ran to it and found a mans jacket and a pair of women's white dress shoes. Sticking out of the front jacket pocket was a piece of folded newspaper. Although it was dated just one-week prior, it looked as if it had been clutched in someone's hand since the day it was printed. One side of the paper had part of a grocery store ad and the other had a story about a boat pilot who had fallen into the frigid water while boarding a vessel and was declared lost at sea. The article said the man was survived by his wife, Adrienne.
I ran toward my uncle, yelling, "Look what I found! A woman's shoes and an article about a boat pilot who died last week."
A policeman had me take him to the spot where I found the items. Officers searched the area while the paramedics lifted the woman on a stretcher into the ranger's truck for the ride to the lot where the ambulance waited. Liquid ran through a tube into the woman's arm, the only part of her that wasn't wrapped in heavy blankets. One of the medics reported her condition into a radio, but talked too fast for me to understand.
I asked another medic if she would be okay. He told me she was alive, but very cold and that she might have internal injuries.
"She's very lucky," he said.
I wondered if she would feel the same way.
My uncle was standing with the ranger who patted him on the back like an old friend and told him to go with the medics and get checked out. The ranger nodded to me before he jumped into his truck. He said, "Good job, young lady. You and your uncle did just fine."
A paramedic remained on the beach with us and said another ambulance was coming for my uncle. He asked if my uncle could walk to the parking lot of if he needed a stretcher. I knew my uncle would never allow someone to carry him unless he was dead or close to it. My uncle grumbled that he could walk just fine.
As we walked I could hear my uncle's teeth chattering and I glanced at him, worried. He assured me that once he got out of his wet clothes he would be fine. He patted my shoulder and gave me a faint smile. It was the first one I'd seen from him in two years.
As we rode to the hospital, I knew that our lives would never be the same and neither would hers.
-
We were in a curtained off section of the emergency department when I saw my uncle's feet. With all the commotion at the beach, I had still never seen them. A nurse was warming them in tubs of water. It felt like my heart stopped when I saw the scars and his deformed toes. I had no idea my uncle had these injuries and felt sick as I realized that he must have been burned in the fire.
He never told me about his injuries and never took his boots off around me. He never even talked about the fire. For the first year, I think he was strong for my sake, but then he began spiraling deeper and deeper into a dark depression. He could sit alone for hours and would occasionally polish off a bottle of whatever liquor he had around.
Weeks after my uncle rescued the woman, I found out that he was taking me to the beach that day to tell me he was sending me to foster care. There were no other family members to take me and he felt unable to raise a young girl in his condition. He wanted to be alone.
After a few hours in the hospital, my uncle's skin color returned to normal. He had just put on dry socks and a sweat suit when a nurse pulled back the curtain and asked if he was up for visitors. My uncle nodded, curious. Several men in uniform surrounded my uncle's bed and one of them stepped forward.
He said they wanted to personally thank the man who saved the wife of their fallen comrade. They had no idea how desperate Adrienne was and wished they had been there for her. "We are deeply grateful to you for your heroism," he said.
He told us that Adrienne's husband had died the previous week at sea. "He was a dedicated boat pilot, but also a courageous firefighter who had volunteered for years and saved many lives himself. Looks like you two have something in common," the man said.
My uncle shook his hand and asked how the woman was doing. He told us that she was stable, but being watched closely. He said, "It looks like you got her out of the water just in time."
Just before the firemen left, my uncle stopped them and asked what Adrienne's husband's name was. One of the men said his name was Joseph Boxworth. He smiled and said they had always called him Boxy since he had kind of a square head.
My uncle's face went pale. In that moment, I believe he flashed back to the night of the fire and remembered the name on the jacket of the fireman who saved his life.
By saving my uncle from that fire, Joseph Boxworth had saved me from a life without family. On the other hand, had it not been for the fire and my uncle's depression, we may not have been on the beach that day to find Adrienne Boxworth in the water. My uncle saved Adrienne Boxworth from a sad death in the soul of the sea, and Adrienne Boxworth saved my uncle from a self-imposed sentence of lonely grief.
I never went into foster care and my uncle eventually began talking about the fire. Adrienne and my uncle became friends, and every so often they would go to the beach where she would take off her shoes and he would take off his boots and they would swim together in the sea.
© 2007, Cindi Saadi
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