I’m downstairs folding laundry when I hear my phone ringing. I dash up here because it was the “not assigned to anyone in particular” ringtone. (Dixie, if you’re wondering). Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Yes, this is KFC.”
Me: “Okay…”
Chick: “In Lenoir City….”
Me: “Yes?” Thinking maybe I’ve won lunch for ten or something exciting. Maybe a cruise! Never mind I have never set foot in the KFC in Lenoir city. This is just how my mind works.
Chick: “We just got your message about the missing chicken in your bag…”
Me, disappointed: “Oh, you have the wrong number. I had Chick-fil-a today.”
She abruptly hung up. Now I’m wondering if she thinks she had the right number & I pranked her. But I really DID have chick-fil-a. The number 7.
If you have plans to read My Sisters Keeper, don’t read this.
I mean it.
I don’t want to ruin an awesome book for you. Move along.
……………………………………………………………………
……………………………………………………………………
Ok. I think they’re gone.
You know a book is going to be pretty darn good if it’s made into a movie. But I wasn’t expecting much, because I’m not always a fan of the trendy books. Take Twilight, for instance. Well, maybe that’s a little young adult for me. Alright, 50 Shades. Gag me. If there had been some semblance of a plot, perhaps I could have gotten on board. But it was trash, plain & simple. And reading the synopsis on the back cover of this one, I wasn’t convinced that it would be entertaining or worth my time. But I’ve read several of Jodi Picoult’s other novels & enjoyed them, so I dove in. I was totally engrossed within twenty pages. I was reading excerpts to everyone & telling them what all was happening. I lugged it to work & the people who really know me watched my progress, surprised I hadn’t covered more ground Friday to Saturday, while others were like, “Dang, that’s a thick book.” By a hundred pages, so much stuff had already happened, I wasn’t sure I could keep up with much more. And the fact that it’s fiction was that much more unbelievable.
This family has a son, then a daughter. At age two, the daughter is diagnosed with a rare type of leukemia. It’s nearly impossible to find a donor match for bone marrow. So the doctor suggests adding an addition to their family. They genetically design a perfect match for Kate, so she can reap the benefits at her sister’s expense.
Enter Anna. Except Anna doesn’t have a name till after she’s born, after the stem cells are taken from her umbilical cord. Her mother was so busy concentrating on getting Kate help, in the form of a donor body, she seems to forget she’s her CHILD.
And so it goes on. Kate is in remission for a few years, and then she needs platelets. Anna to the rescue. Then more. Then a third time. Still it isn’t enough, and they have to draw bone marrow, a fairly invasive procedure, especially for a five year old. She is hospitalized, and her mother can barely be bothered to leave her older sister’s bedside to come to her youngest child’s. Anna isn’t allowed to go to hockey camp or anywhere in fear that Kate will need something quick fast & in a hurry.
When the book begins, Anna is struggling with the decision to give a kidney to Kate. Anna is thirteen. She has researched all the ways this surgery can effect her now and in the years to come. She’s scared, and she feels guilty. But the transplant is no sure cure. Anna retains a lawyer.
There are side stories here, that, contrary to what a bunch of people on Goodreads think, are important to the story. There are relationships between Sara (the mom) and her sister. Between the guardian (assigned by the court to Anna), and the lawyer, and her twin sister. There is the older brother, who is causing mayhem everywhere he goes. There’s a lot going on, I’m telling you. Anna is virtually invisible to everyone but Kate. There are few pictures of her, and if she’s late to dinner, rarely does anyone notice until Kate reminds them.
The book is told in several different viewpoints. About the only person you don’t hear from is Kate, and she’s the central issue. You wonder how she feels, being protected her whole life by everyone she meets. You have a hard time hating her, even though you kinda want to.
At the end, you find out how Kate feels.
Now is the time to heed my warning if you didn’t before.
She is the one who asked Anna to not give the kidney. She’s tired. She’s tried to take her own life twice already. She knows her family is cracking under the years of pressure. She knows she’s going to die anyway.
So all this comes out in court, they go to Kate’s hospital room, she confirms it, and back to the courthouse they go, media slogging with them the entire time. The judge rules that it’s ultimately Anna’s decision, and dismisses them all.
The last ten pages made me want to throw up.
Anna is struck with indecision, she wants to give her sister the kidney, her mom desperately wants her to give her the kidney, basically everyone is pro-kidney except the recipient. They’re all on the way back to the hospital. The father is a fire captain, he gets a page about a car crash nearby, so he detours to see if he can lend a hand.
It’s Anna & her lawyer.
Anna is barely hanging on, and has brain damage when she is admitted to the ER. The lawyer has medical power of attorney & says she will give the kidney.
So you lose Anna, and Kate is still living ten years later. The juvenile delinquent brother becomes a decorated police officer, and they all live happily ever after, minus Anna.
The only thing everyone is in agreement in on Goodreads is that the mother Sara is the devil incarnate. No, I didn’t like the ending, but that isn’t the point. Karma would have been a car wreck but Kate dying at the same time, and the brother getting incarcerated for life, so the wicked witch would lose all three children while she was so busy worrying about her favorite one.
Five solid stars. I loved it.
“Did I ever tell you about my friend who wouldn’t eat the ends of hot dog weenies?” Tuletta says to me this morning.
I snicker. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, she wouldn’t. She’d cut ’em off. You know, the ends where they’re pinched up?”
“Yes. Weird.”
“Said they were poison.”…
I’m laughing heartily. People are peculiar.
“Every time I go in the bathroom & there’s just a little bit of toilet paper left on the roll, I think of that. Poison.”
“People are lazy,” I concur. “Tuletta, you’re the one who needs to write the book.”
This morning felt & looked like January in East Tennessee. What I mean is, it wasn’t super-frigid-freeze-your-fingers-off, but there was a heavy frost. As I drove to work, I took the time to admire all the ice crystals glimmering in the pasture fields & birds sitting close on power lines. There were cattle gathered at gates waiting for their breakfast to be brought around by the bundled up farmer on his tractor. As I drove through hollers, smoke generated by woodstoves & fi…replaces lay low to the ground. There was a stillness to be envied by all those in cities rushing around, too busy to look up (and probably nothing to look at but buildings anyway). I couldn’t help but smile as I looked at the mountain ridge & thinking, “I’ve hiked that…I will hike it again soon.”
So you’re probably thinking I crashed ol Patsy into one of those beautiful bare branched trees, but no.
I pull into the parking lot & I get a whiff of polecat. I speed around the building, hoping it won’t get stuck in my truck all day. The smell just gets stronger. I hurriedly open my door & bail out gagging.
Skunks. Now, that’s life in the mountains.
This morning felt & looked like January in East Tennessee. What I mean is, it wasn’t super-frigid-freeze-your-fingers-off, but there was a heavy frost. As I drove to work, I took the time to admire all the ice crystals glimmering in the pasture fields & birds sitting close on power lines. There were cattle gathered at gates waiting for their breakfast to be brought around by the bundled up farmer on his tractor. As I drove through hollers, smoke generated by woodstoves & fireplaces lay low to the ground. There was a stillness to be envied by all those in cities rushing around, too busy to look up (and probably nothing to look at but buildings anyway). I couldn’t help but smile as I looked at the mountain ridge & thinking, “I’ve hiked that…I will hike it again soon.”
So you’re probably thinking I crashed ol Patsy into one of those beautiful bare branched trees, but no.
I pull into the parking lot & I get a whiff of polecat. I speed around the building, hoping it won’t get stuck in my truck all day. The smell just gets stronger. I hurriedly open my door & bail out gagging.
Skunks. Now, that’s life in the mountains.
Friday’s a good a time as any to go on a rant, isn’t it?
So, last night, we’re sitting there watching the news. And here comes this “Heartwarming Story” about a girl & her prom dress. The girl featured was trying to sell her prom dress for one reason or another. It was really stunning, this brilliant purple number with loads of sparkles & yards of tulle. She said she felt like a princess in it. She put it on one of those Facebook yard sale sites & she got two men making fun of how big it is (size 29). The comments were ugly, but several other people came to her rescue, fighting back & defending the young girl.
Here’s my piece:
It would be great if we lived in a world where no one said anything hurtful, ever. But we don’t. Bullying has been around since kids began playing together. In farm animals, it’s called “establishing pecking order”. The weakest are at the bottom, the first ones to fall prey to predators. Somebody always has something to say. I’ve been tormented since a young age for a variety of reasons: my hair, my teeth, my glasses, my overall nerdiness. People are cruel. It doesn’t get better with age. Teenagers will make fun of you for your clothes, your acne, your vehicle. Even your taste in music. Then the real pressure begins, with drugs, drinking, & sex. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, we all went through some type of prejudice growing up. It’s worse now, I believe, with social media making everything virtually public. You don’t have to post a thing to get embarrassed or made fun of. Someone will ensure that for you. And sometimes it’s not strangers, it’s the people who are closest to you, who know where to cut to bring the most blood the quickest. It may not even be ABOUT you, it may be about the people you love. But I do believe that what we go through toughens you for the “Real World”. Your boss is going to say hurtful things, some you deserve to hear…some, not so much. If you work in any sort of customer service field, you better grow some thick skin because you’re going to hear it all. I had an old man tell me the other day he wished he’d never laid eyes on me (he wasn’t joking, either). His wife gasped, but without missing a beat, I told him I wished the same about him. She said, “Didn’t that hurt your feelings?” I looked her right in the eye & said, “A lion doesn’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.” That has become my motto. Only two people’s opinions matter to me: My husband’s, and the Good Lord’s. I haven’t always been that way. Really, it’s only came about in the last seven or eight years. I used to cry all the time. I don’t always retaliate, and sometimes taking the high road is mighty treacherous & narrow. But after so many years, you learn who is worth your breath & who is just trying to get a rise out of you for their own enjoyment. And I still strongly believe the people who are ugly to you are jealous, and trying to keep attention diverted from their own weaknesses & failings.
Those men had no business looking at a prom dress. They had less business picking on a young girl, who for all they know has emotional stability issues. But hopefully she got some perspective from this situation & will grow stronger for it.
Anyway, y’all have a nice day. If somebody wants to talk smack, send ’em to me. I can take it
A long, long time ago, I was the new kid. I had never once in my life been the new kid. I had vowed not to be the weird girl in boots & wranglers ever again, so my first day at Walters State I dressed in a cute little tank top, little khaki shorts, & trendy sandals. (I was not only young, but thin, back then)
My plans, at usual, got wrecked. I spilled my sprite all over my shorts in route to Morristown. You would think this wouldn’t be such a big deal, since it’s a clear drink, & would have plenty of time to dry in that early September heat, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. My shorts were dry clean only. So they had big dark spots all over them. Luckily, I had a change of clothes in my car….a pair of wranglers & old brown boots. So much for fitting in.
Imagine my surprise upon walking into my first class & everyone was dressed JUST LIKE ME!
I didn’t want to be the nerd who sat down front, & the back row was already full of ‘baccer chewing cowboys being rowdy & loud. I sat down in the middle row & tried to be inconspicuous.
Not too long after that, this girl blew in wearing red jeans & a very shiny belt buckle. She sat next to me.
We struck up conversation after having a laugh about always running late. Turns out, she lived in Sevier County too! And obviously, we had horses in common, too. Gaited horses, at that.
It was the start of a friendship that has lasted all these years. Amazingly enough…because on occasion she would try to make me sick by eating stuff without using antibacterial liquid on her hands after working cattle…or clearing her throat while I’d be trying to scarf down biscuits & gravy. Even though she tried to get me killed, repeatedly. Once, by putting me on this stupid Appendix QH she was trying to sell that she was afraid to ride. Another time, she put me on her crazy padded Morgan, bareback, “just to see how she was movin'”. We drove crazy, we rode crazy, heck, we ARE crazy. I have stood with her as she got married, Kmart cups and limos, & she stood by me in mine, sweat dripping. We’ve danced and sang and made up words when there were none appropriate. We’ve cried into margaritas & mudslides, azalea bushes, & horses’ manes. We’ve cried on each others’ shoulders, & I’ve cried on her parents like they were my own. There’s too many stories to tell. We’ve probably had more “stuff’ happen to us than I have with any of my other friends. She’s one of those friends I don’t talk to often, but I could call up in the middle of the night, & say, “What’s that Chris LeDoux song about parkin’ cars in the ol’ pea patch?” & she’d never bat an eye. I hope you have a very Happy Birthday!!! Love ya sis. More than you know.
