Tag Archives: fear

Oh Crap

Oh crap! Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck. The mosquitoes are out in full force tonight. But why, oh, why am I always the prime target? I feel the back of my neck. Something sticking out, thin, and sharp, I pull it out. It ‘s some kind of dart.

“What the hell?”

Emergency

Emergency Room-Pixabay Paulbr75/2013

That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up. I wake up slowly, thinking I must be in bed, having a bad dream. In a few minutes, I’ll wake up and find myself in my queen size bed, with my brand-new goose down comforter keeping me warm and comfy, with Ralphy lying next to me. Ralphy is my golden Lab and my best friend. I adopted him five years ago from a shelter.

My friend Oswald who volunteers at the shelter called me and told me all about Ralphy, and what a great dog he was. His owner had passed away suddenly, and no one in the family could take him, and he had been in the shelter for four months, his time was running out.

My dog, Cody, had passed away from cancer about a year ago. Oswald thought we both needed a new best friend. I was somewhat reluctant at first since I was broken up after Cody died, but I did miss having someone greet me when I get home. Someone that likes me, unlike my ex, who hates everything about me at the end of our relationship, including how I sneezed.

I went to the shelter to meet Ralphy, and he was a beautiful Golden. He has an endearing outgoing personality. Easy going live and let live outlook on life. We hit it right off.  I filled out the adoption papers right then and there.  A week later, I took him home. We have been best buds ever since.

But unfortunately, I’m not in my big, soft bed with my new down comforter. I ‘m unable to move my arms or legs, so I thought at first I was tied up, I tried to look down and see, but I can’t do that either.

Oh my god, I’m paralyzed. I hear a low, kind of soothing voice from somewhere I not sure; maybe it was a recording or from a microphone.

“You’re going to be alright. The anesthetic will wear off slowly over the next hour. In the meantime, would you please answer all my questions?

My god, I thought, I’ve been kidnapped and am now being kept captive. I can’t move my head, so I roll my eyes from left to right and then up to the ceiling. I see fluorescent lights above, and white walls, adorned by nothing.

At the foot of my bed, I think I see a white jacket, but it’s hard to tell. Because somewhere along the line, I lost my glasses I need to see at a distance. Anything beyond three feet is at a blur for me. My little brother used to call me Mr. Magoo when I was growing up. Because before lightweight glasses came out, I had the real glass type as thick as the bottom of a soda bottle. So, this was the source of the soothing voice.

“Your name, date of birth, social security number, and insurance information, please?”

“My name is Helen, Helen Randolph. My birth date is August 4th, 1984. I do not have health insurance at this time. I got laid off from work eight months ago, and I couldn’t afford to pay for the Cobra insurance. Wait, wait, why are you asking me these questions? What kind of kidnapper ask for insurance information? I don’t have any money. I already told you I am unemployed? Nobody I know has any money, what do you want from me?”

“Kidnapper? Did you hit your head when you fell? We will have to have a CAT scan to make sure you don’t have a head injury.”

“I don’t know if I hit my head, maybe I don’t remember anything past getting a small dart of some kind in the back of my neck. When will I start to be able to move?” Helen suddenly realizes that she is indeed beginning to be able to move. First, her toes could wiggle, and now her hands. And now she can lift her head.

Ms. Randolph, this is Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital in Camden, NJ. It is on July twenty-first, 2019. You were brought into the hospital after someone in the park, noticed you were lying on the ground, unconscious. A tranquilizing dart accidentally hit you. Animal control was trying to capture a brown bear that had wandered into the park from the adjoining woods looking for food. You will be perfectly fine by the end of the day.

“Thank God.”

“It’s all is a day’s work, Ms. Randolph, all in a day’s work.

Courage Isn’t The Absence Of Fear. It’s The Ability to Act Despite Fear

Life is challenging. Every day we face problems that must be solved, questions that must be answered, tasks that must be completed. If you think about it, these are the same problems we had to face since our childhood. It’s only the complexity of problems that have changed as we grow up and grew older.

As a young child before I started school. I was quiet, shy, reticent about straying too far from the familiar. Reluctant to be separated from my mother for any length of time. But still I was filled with curiosity about the world. The world outside my house, outside my yard, outside my neighborhood. I had a fraternal twin sister. It is hard to imagine anyone being more different from me than my twin sister.

We didn’t look alike. I had blond hair, she had dark hair. She was friendly and outgoing and talkative. I was shy and quiet. I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself. I avoided calling attention to myself. I like the familiar, she was more mature and tried different things. 

These differences became more obvious when we entered school. My sister made friends more readily. I made friends slowly and with more care. I did every thing I could to avoid calling attention to myself in the classroom. If I could have become invisible, I would have disappeared. I always tried to sit in the back of the classroom. If I was a turtle, I would have pulled my head inside my shell.

Because of my personality and my shyness, I often woke up on schooldays with a stomach ache. I would have trouble sleeping, afraid of failing in school, afraid I wasn’t smart enough. My concern about my intellectual ability was exacerbated by my father. When I was reluctant to go out with my parents to visit friends or relatives or I wouldn’t speak up when he asked me a question, he would say, “I don’t know what your problem is, are you stupid, or lazy?”

I sought comfort in my imagination, in making up stories. And by making friends with all the animals in my neighborhood, the cats, the dogs. I would imagine I was a bird and could fly.

But still I had this inner strength that kept telling me you can do it. And when I was afraid to answer that question in class, I decided I would just stand up and answer even if it made me feel uncomfortable, even if I was wrong. If I had difficulty one day, I would try harder the next. I became stubborn. If someone told me I was wrong, I would be even more determined to prove I was right. My father started saying, “Susan would argue with the Pope.”

If another classmate was being picked on by someone, I would stick up for them. I became braver to help them. Because I knew what it felt like to be picked on. I remembered those butterflies in my stomach when I was afraid. Even if I was shaking in my boots speaking up for myself or a classmate, I did it. I cared about other people and their feelings. I knew what if felt like to be afraid. Their fear, their pain became mine. And I wanted to help them, I wanted to help myself.

These changes did not happen overnight. They happened over years. Years when I learn to accept who I was, and what I was capable of doing. And when I learned to listen to my inner voice and not to the people who told me I was stupid, or lazy. I realized that I knew myself better than anyone else possible could. And so, I did not allow myself to be limited by their definition of who I was and what I could or could not do.

When I was old enough, I asked my father to teach me to drive although I knew he didn’t believe women should drive. He didn’t allow my mother to learn how to drive. I was afraid of driving. But I was more fearful of how my life would be limited by not knowing how to drive.

 

I started working part-time in my senior year of high school  as an dental assistant when I was seventeen. The only other job I had was baby-sitting for my nieces and nephews.

I wanted to go to college, but my father said, “girls don’t need to go to college they’re just going to get married and have children.” So, I didn’t go to college at eighteen even though I attended an all-girl college Prep High School, called St. Mary of The Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, NJ.

I eventually attended college at the age of thirty-six at Temple University in Philadelphia, Pa. at The Tyler School of Art. I had been married for fourteen years and had two children who were six and three years old in my freshman year. I graduated Summa Cum Laud at the age of forty with two degrees. It was a dream I always had, and I made it happen. It wasn’t easy. I was the only adult student in the Freshman class in 1987. I enjoyed every moment of it.

The day I walked onto that campus as a first day freshman was the opportunity of a lifetime for me. But I have never been as frightened or nervous as I was that day. But I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. All the way up to the day I graduated at the top ten percent of Temple University. I was proud of myself, proud that I accomplished a very difficult goal, proud that I didn’t give up every time I was tired, overworked with school, taking care of my two children, taking care of our home, shopping, cooking and cleaning and staying up half the night or all night studying and doing homework.

Many years have passed since I was a little girl going to my first day of grade school. I have lived a long time. I have moved to another state when I was twenty-two by myself. I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, California and now have retired to North Carolina with my husband of forty-five years.

I have worked as a dental assistant, sold high risk auto insurance, went to hairdressing school in the mid-seventies, sold hats and wigs, worked as a houseparent at St. Vincent’s School in Santa Barbara, gotten married and had two children, went to college as an adult, taught art in my own art studios, had an online business selling one-of-a kind jewelry with my daughter. Worked in Social Services for a decade in Camden and Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ helping at-risk inner-city kids.

So yes, I’m not that shy little girl who was afraid of speaking up and out. I have challenged myself hundreds of times. I have known people who from all of the world and from around the block. I’ve met and gotten to know millionaires and homeless people. And they are all just people struggling in their own way as am I. We all come into this world innocent and none of us gets out of this world alive.

Try and meet all the challenges that life brings to you and always do your best. Life is short and passes by so quickly, do good along the way. Fear may often be your companion but you don’t have to let it lead your way. You are the navigator of your life and don’t let anyone or anything keep you from living the life you want to lead.

And one final thought in case you think I spend everyday typing out stories and sharing my life in this blog. No, I’m still living my life as fully as possible. I work as a volunteer at an exotic animal rescue three days a week. I take care of endangered Parrots and Macaws. And some of my best friends now are lemurs, and a Coatimundi called Neffin,  a monkey called Teddy, a lemur named, Monroe, and a rabbit called Marilyn, eight dogs and too many cats to mention. Foxes as sweet and gentle as any dog. And a host of other animals too long a list to mention. 

It’s your life, lead it, my friends. It’s normal to be afraid at times, but don’t let fear especially fear of failure stop you in your tracks.