This is an absolutely true story Book Index
First page of this on-line novel: Page 1
(click on video to turn off music)
It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honored by the humiliation of their fellow beings. Mahatma Gandhi
Mel had found me in March. of 1996. My first unconditional love. All my life I searched for it, sadly I never found it until then.
First from my mother. I had performed some unknown unforgivable sin before I was even 4 years old. I spent my life just trying to get hers or anyone’s love in my family. She would build me up and knock me down again and again.
Move the road, lock me up in her emotionless mothering then threw away the key. My family… they all knew it. I would only hear from them when they needed something, a place to stay, money or to run interference in a family squabble where I would end up being the one on the periphery waiting for forgiveness from whomever decided I sinned against them. You would think I would finally just leave the stage.
The first time Mel and I were alone, intimate with each other, she promised me, I would never be hurt again. Love did not have to hurt. And I believed her. Why not? What did I have to lose?
Sometime in late 1997 I had started getting sick. Vomiting. I would throw up and then be fine. It was weird. I never missed work because of it, but it was concerning. Mel never seemed to think anything of it. It was almost daily. In late 1997 I had been having these daily vomiting fits for a good 8 months!
I also was having acute pain in my shoulder and neck exacerbated by my tenuous hours on the computer. These aches and pains would deliver some horrendous migraine headaches and finally Mel decided I needed to see a pain doctor.
I was not versed in the various medications used for pain so I deferred to Mel whose job it was to know these things. She took me to Doctor Monk.
Doctor Marinella Monk was a wonderful doctor, on the periphery of retirement unfortunately. She played the Harp. Do you know anyone that plays the Harp? She gave me a VHS of her playing :
My favorite Doctor, Marinella Monk playing the Harp.
I feel it important to mention that since it seems to envelope her personality.
It was convenient, really, having Mel as my proxy as doctors instantly trusted her. She was an Anesthesia Tech and worked for one of the most preeminent Heart Surgeons in the world, Dr. DeBakey. I virtually said nothing. She would tell the doctors all the technical terms as to what discs in my neck were affected. She would use medical verbiage I couldn’t begin to understand and when she was through, she was telling the doctor what to prescribe.
Doctor Monk listened to Mel, she actually really got on well with her and I started on Vicodin and Soma. Then that no longer worked well and Soma was like Quaaludes. I couldn’t work on them. I took Clonopin for restless leg syndrome. A painless nuisance of a malady. It was like shocks running through my legs and I couldn’t keep them still. I would have to sleep in the bathtub. But the Clonopin remedied all that. Soon I was on Morphine. MSIR and MsContin. 30 mgs of morphine 3 times a day and one 60 mg MsContin (morphine continuous release) plus .05 mg to .10 mg of Clonopin and Soma as needed. And I worked cranked up on all that shit.
I was also an insomniac. Mel kept getting my Clonopin raised until she was content I would pass out by 9pm.
And still I worked. Sometimes 60 to 80 hours a week. NO SHIT. I KNOW…Honest…I know exactly what you are thinking.
I was apprehensive about our trip to Kenosha since the last time I had been there was to take care of my sister. She had fallen down a flight of stairs after taking a noxious amount of drugs for her back problems. Which were real and crippling. But she took too much, fell down the stairs and broke her arm. I went there a week to help her out, but that turned into a disaster. I could not do enough for her well enough for her and by the end of the week she and my mother lauded over me screaming some tirades that to this day I have no idea what they said.
So as a result, I had taken to carrying a recording device with me any time I was around them. I didn’t really know what I was going to do with it. My first intention was to just play it back to them so they could hear themselves.
But soon, when it became apparent Mel was drawn in by their charms, I had the ammunition to prove that they were stark raving nuts. Mel had been dragging me around from doctor to doctor. I had to work, and I did with both pain and narcotics.
You see, my sister and mother are really quite funny and entertaining. I would warn people. They would reply “Oh No, not me…no one can beguile me” and then “Dianne…how do they do that?”
Yes the Schuch women are quite funny, clever and endearing as are the men. One must always remember when in their company, cleverness is not wisdom. There’s an awful lot of limelight wired in that house and there are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl’s complexion (Holly GoLightly) Some of us are authentic, some not. You can draw the conclusions. History changed every time I visited. I never knew what the new history was. My sister and mom will generally accept facts as truth only if the facts agree with what they already believe. I just wish people I KNOW are reading this from Kenosha would actually reply. I mean for God sakes, no one will know who you are unless you tell them. Come one, be brave!!!! There are victims.
Prior to finding yourself in their clutches you are just flattered they actually give you the time of day. Like they are the social Epileft of Kenosha and if they didn’t include you in their social soirée’s you may as well move to Racine (That should get someone’s back up…)
This trip to K-town (as we fondly call Kenosha) was going to be the first after my last gaffe. I was more than apprehensive and equipped with recorder and extra tapes. And God must have been guiding me.
A terror of all terrors occurred that to this day has no explanation.
I lost 8 hours of my life.
By the way IISTG means If It Seems Too Good to be True