Then in the middle 70's, a doctor decided I was suffering from muscle spasms and gave me Flexeril. It did not help the pain much, but I was able to sleep at night. I took this until I moved to Oregon in 1979. Here the doctors wouldn't renew my prescription unless they found something themselves. We were back to the x-rays again. I got angry and stopped going to doctors as I felt it was a waste of time, energy and money.

My pain continued to get worse and I hardly ever got much sleep. In May of 1986, we were in a car accident (I have remarried). It was not a serious accident compared to some. A woman who was pulled over on the shoulder of the road suddenly decided to make a u-turn and didn't see us. She turned right into the right side of our car. There was $1,700 damage to the body and the steering was messed up. My husband and younger daughter who were on the left side, weren't hurt. My older daughter and myself were on the right side and she got a dislocated shoulder (trying to protect the dog from injury!) and I wrenched my back. While looking at the x-rays of my back, the doctor said he saw "the beginnings of arthritis". He also said there was nothing to be done at that time and There was nothing to worry about for at least 6-7 years.

Then 5 1/2 years ago, I had bladder surgery and am resticted to lifting no more than 20 pounds for the rest of my life. Since that surgery, my back has deteriated badly. I was being treated for high blood pressure and asked the doctor to check my back. After all, pain raises your blood pressure, especially chronic pain. His attitude was that he wanted to get the blood pressure down to a safe level first because it could kill or maim me and then he would get to my back. I went through several medications and none worked. They either didn't lower the blood pressure or they lowered it but I had severe reactions to the medication. Finally my blood pressure got down to 165-170/90-95 on a regular basis, down from 250/150. I asked again for a check on my back and he said he wasn't ready yet as he wanted the blood pressure even lower first.

I changed doctors 3 times with the same story. Finally, I found a doctor who agreed with me and he discovered that I have severe arthritis in my back. I am taking Neurontin, which is an epilepsy medicine, but the side effects are pain-killing and sleeping. It worked great for the first 3 months or so, but it is losing it's affect. He has upped my dosage to 600 mg. a day, but our insurance coverage changed January 1, 2000 and I will not be able to afford it anymore. So I don't know what's next.

I was also put into physical therapy but it made my back worse. It is just my husband and I now and doing the dishes (not many!) puts me in excruciating pain for hours and nothing touches it. I have totally given up mopping, vaccuuming and several other "bending" jobs.

I was turned down for SS Disability because I haven't worked in the past 10 years. I was turned down for SSI because my husband makes too much ($11.00 hour).

I had foot surgery on January 21, 2000 to remove a neuroma. It was successful and not cancerous, but I am recuperating slowly. I have permission to be on the computer for a limited time because I have to spend so many hours a day with my foot proped up.

Maggie in Oregon maggimae@pacifier.com


I was married the first time at 16 1/2 to Bob. He turned 19 three weeks later. We were married three weeks short of 5 years and had a son, Rick, and a daughter, Jenny. His mother was our problem every minute of every day we were married; it didn't help that he was a momma's-boy and I was taught to be independant. She caused horrible fights between us. He moved us to California for a new start but too much water was under the bridge. Besides, I wanted to go back to Maryland to be near my mom because I was an only child and she was a widow with a heart condition. I didn't know how much time was left to her and I wanted her to know her grandchildren and I wanted them to know her. One morning he got up, got ready for work and said he wasn't coming back. I immediately started getting ready to move back home.

I got a phone call telling me mom was dead 2 weeks before I was to leave. I went to Virginia (she had moved to be nearer work at the Navy department) to arrange her furneral. I was 21. My uncle was moving to Georgia and he said I could move there and stay with them until I got on my feet, which I did.

When my son was 4 1/2 years old, Bob took him for a six-month visitation to get him some medical attention that I couldn't afford. I was a waitress with no insurance and he worked for NASA. Bob immediately disappeared off the face of the earth with Rick, even changing his social security number. No one would do anything because at that time you couldn't be charged with kidnapping your own child, according to the FBI and the GBI.

Eventually I met Donald and we were married. We had a daughter, Donna, which he always said wasn't his child. With time I found out he was an alcholic and prescription drug abuser. It's guys like him that make it hard for people like us to get the meds we need! He was mean and he liked weapons of all kinds, especially guns. He had brass knuckles, a slapjack, a billy club with a steel rod in the center and about 15 handguns. I tried several times to leave him but he always chased me down and brought me back. One night, just after our 4th. anniversary, he came home from a 2 day drinking binge just as I was taking the girls to bed. He came charging down the hall behind me,pushing me in through the first door he came to which happened to be the bathroom. The girls, who had been in front of me, somehow squeezed past me into the bathroom and stood in the tub. Donald put a 45 to my head and said I should give him one good reason why he shouldn't kill me and the girls. (I still have nightmares about this) I knew that whatever I said would be wrong so I said a silent prayer making a deal with God that if He would let me live unhurt through the night I would be gone in the morning. I don't know why, but Donald lowered the gun, said he had some business to take care of but would be back and left. I didn't leave right away because he had been pretending to go to work or elsewhere and parking where he could watch the house without me being able to see him. I was sure he was waiting for me to leave so he could shoot me on the road. At 9 the next morning I called his work to see if he was there. I made the excuse that I would bring him some hot lunch like I was making up so he wouldn't be suspicious. He was at work for the first time in a week! But he said he was sick and was just getting ready to leave. I hung up grabbed the kids and what I could and left because I knew it took him about 20 minutes to get home from work and I wanted to be as far away as possible. I headed to a friend in Maryland with $30 to my name. I stayed with her for a couple of days and then got some help through welfare and a place called Abused Persons. I got an apartment, a job, a good babysitter and was doing a good job of putting my life back together.

While I was not the least interested in a relationship, I did date once in a while. There was one fellow I became good friends with and he liked my girls and they liked him. Saturday afternoon and evening was the time I set aside to devote to my kids no matter what. It got to be that he would spend Saturdays with us going to the zoo, the movies, the park or playing indoor games when the weather was bad. He would help me with my car troubles (major help!) and I helped him by having him for a home cooked meal and everybody seemed to benefit from the companship. Then he started bugging me to marry him but I didn't want to be married or even involved in that manner with any one. He started stalking me and I spooked. I left and headed west. I had no real plans, but I would stop in towns and ask about jobs and places to live once I got far enough away.

One place I stopped, a guy said he was from Seattle and that there were always jobs there, but it rained a lot. I said I could handle rain but not snow as I never learned to drive in it. So I headed to Seattle but went the southern route to avoid any snow as it was late spring. By the time I got to the San Francisco area, my car was acting up.

I decided to go up route 1 instead of the freeway because the map showed little towns along the way where I could get help. The freeway had long stretches of nothing and I was afraid of getting stranded and a weirdo stopping to help. I made it to within about 66 miles of the Washington line and my car died beyond resurrection. I took a job with the intention of saving what I could and continue to Seattle. I was paid minimum wage and the area was so poor that tips were small. This town was at that time slightly less than 4,000 people. I met my now-husband, John, and I've been here ever since.

I think I'll end here and finish the rest in another letter. This was a bit hard for me to write and if there is any thing I wasn't very clear about, please ask. I don't mind answering questions and since I lived it, it's hard to see what I missed because all these images come at once when you remember! I hope I didn't boor anyone! Maggie in Oregon maggimae@pacifier.com

John and I were married in 1980 after a year of living together. Money was often tight, as John had a child from a previous marriage and the child support was steep. I will not bore you with the early years as they were fairly normal. He was hard-working and non-abusive, had absolutely no problems with becoming my daughters' "daddy", and didn't do drugs or alchol.

Our problems began after my oldest daughter, Jenny, went into the service. She had never given us any trouble through her teen years, was a good student, caring, obedient, helpful and drug-free. People used to say that she had a maturity well past her age and were always impressed with her. As an example, when she would babysit she would straighten up the house and/or do dishes and if these things didn't need doing then she would bake cookies or a cake or something like that, always leaving the kitchen spotless, for the people to come home to.

After basic training and special schooling, she was sent to Germany. She arrived in Germany on March 3 and we got a call in May from her saying she had been gang raped and was pregnant, but not from the rape as she was already pregnant when the rape happened. She had made a boyfriend while in schooling and he had been transferred to Germany, too, about 25 miles away. He arrived in Germany the end of March. Just before the rape they had a bad fight and broke off with each other. The air force gave her a choice of marriage or an abortion and she would do neither so they gave her a pregnancy discharge and she was home August 4. She was not the same person at all-cold, calculating and unfeeling. She refused to go to therapy (the service said she didn't need it) and she spent the rest of her pregnancy not caring a bit about the baby that was coming. I was truely concerned and spoke to her doctor (the butcher of town-another story) and he seemed unconcerned. Her due date was January 2 but was severely toxemic and was rushed to Portland for an early delivery. Jenny was life-flighted out but we had to drive the 2 hours to get there and were told we could arrive to a dead daughter or a dead grandchild or both. I was her coach and my grandson, Ricky, was delivered safely at 18 inches long, 3 lb. 11 oz.

On December 3. Jenny's wierdness didn't get better after the birth. On March 17, when Ricky was 3 months old, Jenny just blew up, screaming and hitting me with her fists, after spending the day with us. She ran home and called the police, telling them to arrest me because I was going to kill her! That was one time I was thankful for a small town. The officer responding, who was the captain, knew me and knew it was a load of bull but was very concerned for both Jenny and Ricky because she was so unstable. He suggested that I let her rest the night and go over the next morning. The next day she was gone leaving a note saying she was going to Nebraska (the other grandparents) and we would never see her again. From that moment on, Donna started with her troubles that I already wrote about.

It was that July after that Donna was raped and sodimized. Since I have told you about Donna, I will skip the few years I talked about with Donna. Donna came home in May of 1993 and Jenny came back that August; Ricky was 3 1/2. While she was better than when she left I could still see evidence of her mental breakdown at odd moments. She refused (and still to this day) to talk about what happened. She just wanted to pick life back up like those 3 1/2 + years hadn't happened. I felt then, and still do, that we need to talk about it, get it aired out, before we can bury it. She did see a therapist while in Nebraska, but that's all I know about it. All I know of her life in that state is that the other grandparents threw her out after 4 months (threatening to take Ricky away from her), she got married after knowing a guy for a month and was divorced after a month of marriage, was living with an abusive man just before coming home and Ricky had a spiral break of hid thigh at 7 months (just after she was kicked out) that Jenny blamed on a babysitter but the state said she did it. She went through all kinds of hoops with the courts, welfare and child welfare.

After getting home she went through 3 boyfriends in 5 months, getting married to the third one. They were divorced after 2 years, during which time she was more like her old self. After the divorce, she went nuts again, going after several men and trying to get everyone or anyone in trouble or fighting that she felt deserved it. Then she met Mike, my son-in-law, and he calmed her down, wouldn't put up with her craziness and had proved to be very stablizing to her. She is 95 % like her old self again and improving every day.

We are very close again. Mike's adoption of Ricky, who is now 10, just came through. I love my son-in-law and he loves me so there are no problems. Jenny is 29.

Two years ago, we finally found my son, Rick, in El Paso, Texas. He is married with 3 kids. Rick is 31 and has talked to me 4-5 times and we met once. He has no real desire to get to know me after being told horror stories about me for so long. He has been cordial on the phone. All those years that I was looking for him and dreaming of the day I would find him it never once occurred to me that he didn't want to know me. At first I called quite often but he was never home so I eventually cooled the calling and he has called since then. I did talk to my daughter-in-law once and she said that if Rick feels pressured he refuses to cooperate. Time will tell. John and I have gone through some terrible fighting through all this, but we've come through it.

There are times he seems unfeeling and thoughtless but some of that is being male. ;) Some of it is not understanding chronic pain and some of it is not understanding why I keep the door as open for Donna as I do. He has seen me in the past close and lock that door for people who have done less to me. One problem that was a big hurdle was his loss of interest and ability in sex (it has been years) but since my back has gotten so bad I feel a sense of relief as well as a sense of loss. This is one symptom of diabetes and he has all of them on the list except female health troubles! He will NOT talk about these symptoms at all and I think it's because deep down inside he thinks he has diabetes, too. I have a friend with diabetes and he knows the life-style changes it means, but he has it in his head that until the doctor says it out loud it isn't there. After begging and pleading with him for years to see a doctor, my friend finally told him that it was fine with her if he dropped dead, which is a real possibility, because we would be free to visit more often (she lives 65 miles away) at Christmas. THIS got through to him and he has promised to see the doctor within 2 months, after we, hopefully, pay my surgery bill.

Well, other than a lot of little items that could make this the great American novel, that's my story.

Maggie in Oregon maggimae@pacifier.com