Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

September 10, 2007

Publishers Favourite Sites:

Rosanne Catalano

http://www.rosannecatalano.net/

Michael Smith

http://subs.zinester.com/86758/

Barbara Weymouth

penwormprayerwarriors-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Helen Dowd

www.occupytillicome.com

Dean Perchick

http://symzonia.blogspot.com

Today’s Announcements

Happy Birthday, Lee Elliott: meeee@comcast.net

And an extra special happy birthday for my sweetheart, Matt, I love you with every essence of me, heart, mind and soul: hikmat456@hotmail.com

Donations are always needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   

Please note that Storytime Tapestry is a free newsletter to members and there will never be a cost for the newsletter. Donations are purely voluntary and no member should ever feel guilty for not making a donation at this time.

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

 Excuse me........but

Sharon Bryant

The year was 1972.  I was having my first child.  My due date was on my birthday in January that day.  I must have had one heck of a good calculating doctor: he was correct on the date.  The only thing he didn't hit on the spot was the blizzard we had that night.

After hours of a long labor, I finally gave birth to my little boy.  I already had a name picked out, so I signed the birth certificate the day after his birth.  His name was Andrew Frank Dunbar.

I was awake during the delivery.  I remember the doctor turning him towards me seconds after his birth saying, "Congratulations, you've got a beautiful son." 

The next morning a doctor I did not know came into my room.  "Mrs. Dunbar, I'm doctor so and so, and I'm here to tell you that your surgery is going as planned at 8:00 A.M."

"What surgery?" I asked him.

He patted my arm and said there was nothing to be worried about.

"WHAT surgery?" I asked again.  "Who said I was having surgery, I'm not having surgery, I just had a baby," I told him.

"Why, you’re tubular," he replied.

"WHAT tubular?" I asked him, thinking my husband must have signed something he didn't realize what he was signing.

"I am NOT having a tubular," I told him.

Again he patted my arm and told me everything would be just fine.

The minute he walked out of the room, I pushed the nurse's button.  A nurse rushed into my room and I told her about the doctor.

She looked at my chart and said, "There's no surgery scheduled for you." 

"I know that!" I yelled, but that doctor thinks I'm having surgery.

I did not sleep all that night, afraid they'd come get me and whisk me off to surgery.  When they gave me a tiny little sleeping pill and stood watching waiting for me to swallow it, I tucked it under my tongue, sipped my water and smiled at her.  The second she left the room, I spit it out and snuck it into my juice.

My parents beamed when they saw their first grandchild.  My dad was tickled that I'd named my son after him....Frank.

Little did we know what the next few days would be like over that name.

They must have got the surgery thing worked out because no one came to get me the next morning.

My parents called later that day to ask how I liked my flowers.

"What flowers?" I asked.

"You're didn't get flowers from dad and I?" mom asked.

I told her no, I didn't have any flowers in my room.  She informed me that several friends also sent flowers.  I told her I had nothing in my room.

When the nurse came into my room, I asked her about flowers.  She said she'd check into it, but nothing had been delivered on my wing.

While the nurse was looking for the flowers, while I was tied down in the bed unable to get up, that doctor came into my room again.
"GET OUT!" I yelled to him.  "I'm not having any surgery and you are not taking me anywhere," I screamed at him.

He tried to calm me down, but I was getting upset, not knowing why he was there, wanting me to have a tubular.

A nurse came running into the room, and I pointed at the doctor and told her he's the one who keeps saying I'm going to have surgery.  The nurse ran out of the room and I heard my own doctor before I saw him.

"This is 1972, not 1872, we Don't make mistakes like this in a modern hospital," I heard him yell.  He walked into my room.

It was then I found out there was another woman who had her baby just minutes before I did and we had the same last name....Dunbar.

A nurse walked in carrying a beautiful arrangement of flowers.  Another nurse came in with another.  "Mrs. Dunbar?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.  "Well, you've got some pretty flowers I'll set around your room," she said.  I had several when they finished bringing all of them in.

"Where were these?" I asked as I saw the card with 'Love Mom and Dad' on it.

"There's another lady on this floor named Dunbar and by mistake all the flowers were placed in her room.

I asked if I could meet this woman, but they informed me I couldn't get up for a couple more days.

That night another nurse brought my baby to my room.  In those days we wore a bracelet with our name on it with either boy or girl next to our name.   Our child's last name was on their little arms.  I knew what I was to do, so I said, "Dunbar, boy."

The nurse looked up at me and said, "Oh Mrs. Dunbar, you didn't have a boy, you had a little girl."  She was holding the baby.

I said, "Let me see the baby."

She brought the baby to my bedside and I did not see the two red spots from the forceps that was used in my son's delivery.

"Excuse me, that's NOT my baby," I told her.  "I had a boy, not a girl."

She patted my arm with her free arm and said, "Now Mrs. Dunbar, you were probably pretty groggy and you just don't remember, but you DID have a little girl."

"I did NOT have a girl," I yelled at her.  "Something is wrong here, I know I gave birth to a boy, his birth certificate is already signed, so you better get me the right baby."

In the other room, the other Mrs. Dunbar was having a battle with her nurse, when they told her she gave birth to a boy.

The next day I met Mrs. Dunbar.  She walked into my room and introduced herself.

I asked her what her husband's name was and she said Frank Dunbar.  "That's where they got the surgery messed up, I was scheduled for a tubular, and because your baby's middle name is Frank, they wrote up the wrong patient," she explained.

Every feeding while we both were in the hospital, when they brought the babies to us, we undressed them to make sure we had the right baby.  She laughed when she came to my room and made the remark, "I wonder how many times in the future, your life and mine will be connected through these babies."  Little did we know.

Four days later, I was released from the hospital.  The nurse brought my son to me and said, "Well, mom, you can take your baby home now."  "Wait a minute," I told her.  I laid the baby on the bed, and began unrolling the blanket he was wrapped up in.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said.

"Yes, I do," I replied.  "Because I'm not leaving this hospital until I know I've got my son, not someone else's daughter.

It was my son.

A few weeks later, the birth certificates arrived in the mail.  I couldn't wait to open mine.

I ripped the envelope open to see my son's beautiful certificate.

I stared as I read, "Kari Lynn Dunbar."

This is all recorded in the baby book I kept. 

Sharon Bryant

1946@bellsouth.net

~**~**~

 A THOUSAND BUTTERFLIES

By: Joseph J. Mazzella

     I have always loved butterflies. I think I must have got it from my Mom. When I was a boy she used to take a break from working in her flower garden just to watch these delicate winged beauties fly from blossom to blossom. After my Mom passed away I told my daughter many times that if her Grandma ever wanted to check up on her that she would probably just hop a ride on the back of a butterfly to do so. The amazing thing is that the more I would say it the more the butterflies would dance gracefully in the air around us when we walked outside. I would always smile and silently tell my Mom how much I loved her as they fluttered by.

     This year I have seen more butterflies than ever before. I think my Mom must have gathered a thousand, invisible, angel riders to join her in watching over me. It is so glorious seeing all these butterflies floating on the breezes whenever I go out. I know that it is just my Mom’s wonderful way of letting me know that she loves me, that she is looking out for me, and that she along with so many others are helping me as I travel down the road of my life.

     It is so good to know that my Mom is still with me in my heart, mind, and soul. It is so blissful to feel her presence as I do my best to give love, spread joy, and make this world a better place. It is so wonderful to realize that a thousand angels are cheering me on as I strive to do what God wants me to do and go where God wants me to go. It is so peaceful knowing that this life I am living is a part of something far greater than myself.

     As you go down the road of your life then always remember that you are not alone. God and His angels are always with you. They are watching you, helping you, and cheering you on as you love, give, and live. They are delighting in your every effort to do good and make this world a better place. And sometimes they are even riding unseen on the backs of a thousand butterflies.

Joe Mazzella

joecool@wirefire.com

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Tanja Cilia’s Haikus

tanjachilja@hotmail.com

 The peaks of mountains
The tips of icebergs as well
Crown my love's zenith

The power of white
Is something that will conquer
The evil of black

The problem with kids
Is that although they''ll have grown
They're still kids at heart

The rivulets meet
Skipping over pebbles
Confluence of minds

The rock of my life
The horizon of forever
The emptiness knows

The rocks of basalt
Incessantly gnawed by froth
Are yet eroded

There's a storm brewing
Shadows run across my face
Clouds that threaten rain

Throughout my journey
The far-away horizon
Never moves closer

Today I am dead
I wonder what they're feeling
Those I left behind

Together we'll climb
Mountains of adversity;
Rise to the challenge!

Two hearts beat as one
A portrait of the future
The mirror of love
~**~**~

Readers Feedback

Carol,
    Thanks so much for sharing my article today.  Being a part of Storytime is a wealth of
joy to me.  Have a glorious weekend.  Wishing you every happiness, Joe

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