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Author’s note:
We lived, altogether, five different places in Oklahoma City like a dog
who follows his tail around and around in the middle of a mat trying to
find a comfortable place where he can finally rest. We lived on Portland
Avenue close to May avenue, Elliot street in the real slums of the town,
Northwest 10th street, On Thirteenth Street close to the children’s
hospital, and finally on 23rd Street close to the capital. Of all the
places the last was the nicest. I’ll give a page to each location.
Portland Avenue
The old farm house on Portland Avenue was now a rental place and that was
obvious. Work had been done to make it clean and livable. The rooms were
spacious as only older home’s rooms can be.. There was the difficult, long
living room all women hate to have to decorate but I solved this problem
by placing sofa and chairs across the room. The space behind them became a
dining room. It worked for me. For some reason that room was dark so
Rhonda and I spent most of our time in the warm, very large, light
kitchen. On my own I was still doing the therapy with her braces, as
hateful as it was. Rodney had built her a special chair with large
coasters under it so I could push her around to wherever I happened to be.
The chair and therapy were helping. She was now holding her head up, if
she wasn’t able to sit up, yet. The chair fit all around her snugly and
gave her support so she appeared to be sitting on her own.
Even though Uncle Dennis
was prone to pop in from time to time the place was lonely. Because the
house was off to itself there weren’t really any neighbors. I was
beginning to find out about living in a big town. Some of the friends came
to call and this was when I met the doctor who was in that congregation.
This chance acquaintance saved my life many years later when he knew where
to send me for the best medical attention. We started going to the
meetings and I met a number of new friends.
These people were more
reserved though and were not of the same fun loving group we had left in
Norman. We attended meetings, went in service, and studied the Bible
together but there were no invitations forthcoming in any way for getting
better acquainted. This was the first time I began to experience
depression. I had no idea what that was or how a person was affected but
the lesson learned at that time was real and very frightening.
“You have lost weight that
dress is hanging on you.” Rodney had never made comments about how I
looked or what I wore but this time he did.
“I can’t eat. My stomach
stays in knots and I’ve been vomiting. I thought I must have the flu, but
there is no fever.”
We went to the meeting but
when I came through the door at home I couldn’t get to the bathroom fast
enough. I was so nauseated. This weakness experienced was something never
known to me, before.
“You are going to the
emergency room.” Rodney was firm in his decision.
He carried Rhonda in one
arm and practically had to carry me into the hospital. I could hardly
stand.
Dr. Little was anything but
little. He was a big man and doing a large job in a city emergency room.
The nurse gave me a shot and I was on my way out the door while I leaned
heavily on Rodney in order to walk.
We no sooner got home than
the phone rang. It was Dr. Little.
“I had no intentions of
sending your wife home. She is very ill. Her nervous system is in a state
of collapse. If you intend to keep her home you must go for a
prescription. I gave her a shot and she will rest but this isn’t over.” |