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Obituary
I met N years ago, briefly for the first time at Britannia arms, along with P and G, who was later to be her husband. We didn't "connect" then.
Later, I became involved in Luna Circa (~1986), and met up with N and P again. I sort of fell into a kitchen table yakking friendship with N. She was married to G, who at the time was working in the aerospace microwave field - a niche market, that when it collapsed, took their fortunes and rented duplex with it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...
N and I spent long hours around her table, swapping gossip, stories, and magical Techniques. She was Gardnerian, I was eclectic, and was still building my own trad. We bitched, laughed, and all of that. I was happy to learn from her all of her stories about customer service, copier salesman babysitting, and all of that. We'd see each other on at least a weekly basis, and attend rituals at SBC together. It was G and N that I called when I had a flat tire (and a bad spare) on the freeway coming back from a convention. G drove me to get a new one.
At the time, she was diabetic, but I hadn't realized how much so. She was as chocolaholic as I was. She also smoked, but not as much as later. She had to stop working around that time, for medical reason that I didn't understand yet. She even had one of those TENS units for what I later understood was diabetic neuropathy. She also had chronic depression, a thing that I didn't underatnd then either.
We did many magical workings together, since she was one of the few (not trained by me) who understood my direct style, and could work without all of the trappings of ritual.
When G's career went down the tubes in the 1980's recession, well, I did what I could to help. The van I drove at the time had room for emergency/camping food, and I needed to rotate stock. And we continued to yak, and munch chocolate.
G was out of work for over a year. At that time, I had never been out for more than a few months, and that was bad enough. Their credit shot, they had to move out of the duplex. I offered to help them move, but some of G's friend who I didn't really get along with did instead. G got work as a security guard, since is previous field of work had evaporated, and the Sillicon Valley considered him "too old" to start over in a related field.
The new place was a 2 bedroom on the second story near Campbell. Not bad, but as N's mobility decreased, she went out less. Climbing the stairs increasing difficult. She also smoked more, and took more pills, trying to find the combination of medications from Kaiser's pill pushers that would let her function without pain and crying jags. She started sleeping in a recliner, because a bed wasn't comfortable any more. Eventually she got a hospital bed by prescription. She was still mobile enough to sew, and had piles of projects to keep her happy.
Around 1994 I discovered the usenet, and got hooked. She wasn't sure she wanted to get involved. G wasn't sure, but got a Netcom account (aptower@netcom.com), which they shared. I introduced her to alt.pagan, where she soon posted as "DragonMama". She also posted to alt.religion.wicca, since she was a Wiccan 3rd degree.
In 1995, I had brain surgery, and she was one of the people that waited for 8 hours while I wads in the OR. She was also one of the people that I had listed on my living will. She visited me in the hospital while I was going through rehab to teach me to walk again.
In 1996 she got her own account, dragonmama@netcom.com. She was as hooked as I was, and I gave her a social outlet that was otherwise increasingly becoming limited. She was there for the development and birthing of soc.religion.paganism (August, 1996), for all of the interesting flame wars and such on alt.pagan before that, and as such was one of the wiser heads on pagan usenet. When Netcom started being nasty, we got her an account at our ISP, so around October 2000, she started posting as dragonma@rahul.net.
Some time between 1996 and 1999, she officially retired as a Wiccan HPS. She just didn't have the stamina and emotional strength to carry on with it, and she was sick of the bullshit. She still had her usenet friends, and she didn't have to try and climb down the stairs to go and circle with them. We even met quite a number of them in person: ounce, mlion, hamp, kitsune,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lwood, silverdragon, and I forget who all else.
She attended Pantheacon, in Oakland, for the last time with my roomie and myself, and because of her mobility problems,lwood rented her a wheelchair and got to "push her around". She had a hard time sleeping in the hotel - and they had to bring in a chair and an ottoman to our room (which she was sharing) so she could try.
A few years ago, at the height of the tech boom, her landlord decided that he wanted to cash in by remodeling her apartment and renting it out for more $$. G & N had no place to go. They couldn't afford the high rents that everyone was charging in the valley, and anyplace they could afford, wasn't vacant. So they moved in with us, for "a little while". They lived with us for over a year.
N smoked like a chimney, but not as bad as one of my roomies. As her pain level increased, along with her frustration at not having a place that she ruled, she became more moody and irritable. There's nothing like 6 people in a 4 bedroom, 1 bath house to test a friendship. N's mental acuity started dropping then too, but it was so slow I didn't really notice it, except as her complaining. I did notice that I hated her taste in TV. But that was a little thing.
When they finally found a place, it was on the first floor, and we helped them move their stuff out of the storage locker and in to the new place. N tried to attend a few SBC events, but with G's schedule and her mobility problems, it became a losing proposition. I already had trouble navigating around grassy, uneven and crowded areas.
She had already gone through the deaths of several friends, Randall Garrett and John McClimans among them, as well as relatives. But when her best friend, Francis, was diagnosed with cancer (after collapsing at work - where she was a nurse!) and then they botched the surgery to remove the cancer, she took it hard. When Francis went, she started smoking more, and became more depressed.
It would have gone on this ways for several years, probably, but (in 2000?) she went to treat herself to a pedicure. The stupid girl used an emery board or stone on her feet. Because of the diabetic neuropathy, she didn't feel it as the twit rubbed blisters onto the balls of her feet. They became infected, and G found her on the floor one day when he came home. Into the hospoital she went.
Kaiser, of course, was it's usual incompetant self. It took them days to figure out what was wrong, they switched her medications to something that had her nearly drowning in her own fluids, and generally made a mess. They took off several toes, and the quack surgeons didn't address the foot deformation that resulted as she healed. They told her they could "fix it later", and then refused to do so because she was a diabetic. They gave her NO physical therapy, and only minimal pain relief. The idiots wanted her confined to bed for nearly two years. She was essentially stuck in her front room, without physical therapy.
Her mental state pretty much followed her physical state. While she finally started doing a better job of managing her diabetes (G had to cook, because she was bed bound at doctor's demand), it was really too late. She also smoked more, and cried more for Francis.
This went on for a year or more, and we went back to getting together for our weekly dinners, and babbled about all kinds of stuff, from politics to books and movies.
Then, within the last year, her feet got infected again (and she lost more toes, again without physical therapy). Then in June she had some sort of stroke and even in the hospital she wanted someone to bring her her "stash" of pills to check out with. That wasn't possible. She was ticked, and I can't blame her. She ended up unable to transfer even to her own potti chair right next to her bed. She needed 24 x 7 care. Kaiser sent her home, and did nothing more. G still had to work, so my SO and I ended up "N sitting" - him more than me, because he could literally pick up all 300+ pounds of her when she blew a transfer.
By then, her mind was going even more. She couldn't concentrate well enough to read a book, or usenet. It upset her, and she had crying jags. She got more demanding, and she turned into a very unhappy, mean and demanding nag. The N I knew would have been horrified. She wanted to die, not live in a useless husk, her mind being eaten away by her physical problems. But she couldn't concentrate enough to do it.
One day she apparently had a lucid enough moment to find her stash of suicide pills and try to take them. Unfortunately, G discovered her and called the paramedics, who promptly tubed her and all that. She lived for several weeks. G told me that ICU only allowed family visitors, so I couldn't even go see her. But I knew. You don't have the kind of magical history together as N and I did and nbot *know* what the situation is.
Finally they admitted that she was dying, and gave her enough drugs to help the pain, and let her friends come to say goodbye.
Goodbye, N, I'll miss you. I'm sorry the last several monthd of your life sucked so badly - between Kaiser's incompetence, and them forcing you to live, I couldn't figure out how to change it.
Later, I became involved in Luna Circa (~1986), and met up with N and P again. I sort of fell into a kitchen table yakking friendship with N. She was married to G, who at the time was working in the aerospace microwave field - a niche market, that when it collapsed, took their fortunes and rented duplex with it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...
N and I spent long hours around her table, swapping gossip, stories, and magical Techniques. She was Gardnerian, I was eclectic, and was still building my own trad. We bitched, laughed, and all of that. I was happy to learn from her all of her stories about customer service, copier salesman babysitting, and all of that. We'd see each other on at least a weekly basis, and attend rituals at SBC together. It was G and N that I called when I had a flat tire (and a bad spare) on the freeway coming back from a convention. G drove me to get a new one.
At the time, she was diabetic, but I hadn't realized how much so. She was as chocolaholic as I was. She also smoked, but not as much as later. She had to stop working around that time, for medical reason that I didn't understand yet. She even had one of those TENS units for what I later understood was diabetic neuropathy. She also had chronic depression, a thing that I didn't underatnd then either.
We did many magical workings together, since she was one of the few (not trained by me) who understood my direct style, and could work without all of the trappings of ritual.
When G's career went down the tubes in the 1980's recession, well, I did what I could to help. The van I drove at the time had room for emergency/camping food, and I needed to rotate stock. And we continued to yak, and munch chocolate.
G was out of work for over a year. At that time, I had never been out for more than a few months, and that was bad enough. Their credit shot, they had to move out of the duplex. I offered to help them move, but some of G's friend who I didn't really get along with did instead. G got work as a security guard, since is previous field of work had evaporated, and the Sillicon Valley considered him "too old" to start over in a related field.
The new place was a 2 bedroom on the second story near Campbell. Not bad, but as N's mobility decreased, she went out less. Climbing the stairs increasing difficult. She also smoked more, and took more pills, trying to find the combination of medications from Kaiser's pill pushers that would let her function without pain and crying jags. She started sleeping in a recliner, because a bed wasn't comfortable any more. Eventually she got a hospital bed by prescription. She was still mobile enough to sew, and had piles of projects to keep her happy.
Around 1994 I discovered the usenet, and got hooked. She wasn't sure she wanted to get involved. G wasn't sure, but got a Netcom account (aptower@netcom.com), which they shared. I introduced her to alt.pagan, where she soon posted as "DragonMama". She also posted to alt.religion.wicca, since she was a Wiccan 3rd degree.
In 1995, I had brain surgery, and she was one of the people that waited for 8 hours while I wads in the OR. She was also one of the people that I had listed on my living will. She visited me in the hospital while I was going through rehab to teach me to walk again.
In 1996 she got her own account, dragonmama@netcom.com. She was as hooked as I was, and I gave her a social outlet that was otherwise increasingly becoming limited. She was there for the development and birthing of soc.religion.paganism (August, 1996), for all of the interesting flame wars and such on alt.pagan before that, and as such was one of the wiser heads on pagan usenet. When Netcom started being nasty, we got her an account at our ISP, so around October 2000, she started posting as dragonma@rahul.net.
Some time between 1996 and 1999, she officially retired as a Wiccan HPS. She just didn't have the stamina and emotional strength to carry on with it, and she was sick of the bullshit. She still had her usenet friends, and she didn't have to try and climb down the stairs to go and circle with them. We even met quite a number of them in person: ounce, mlion, hamp, kitsune,
lwood, silverdragon, and I forget who all else.She attended Pantheacon, in Oakland, for the last time with my roomie and myself, and because of her mobility problems,
lwood rented her a wheelchair and got to "push her around". She had a hard time sleeping in the hotel - and they had to bring in a chair and an ottoman to our room (which she was sharing) so she could try.A few years ago, at the height of the tech boom, her landlord decided that he wanted to cash in by remodeling her apartment and renting it out for more $$. G & N had no place to go. They couldn't afford the high rents that everyone was charging in the valley, and anyplace they could afford, wasn't vacant. So they moved in with us, for "a little while". They lived with us for over a year.
N smoked like a chimney, but not as bad as one of my roomies. As her pain level increased, along with her frustration at not having a place that she ruled, she became more moody and irritable. There's nothing like 6 people in a 4 bedroom, 1 bath house to test a friendship. N's mental acuity started dropping then too, but it was so slow I didn't really notice it, except as her complaining. I did notice that I hated her taste in TV. But that was a little thing.
When they finally found a place, it was on the first floor, and we helped them move their stuff out of the storage locker and in to the new place. N tried to attend a few SBC events, but with G's schedule and her mobility problems, it became a losing proposition. I already had trouble navigating around grassy, uneven and crowded areas.
She had already gone through the deaths of several friends, Randall Garrett and John McClimans among them, as well as relatives. But when her best friend, Francis, was diagnosed with cancer (after collapsing at work - where she was a nurse!) and then they botched the surgery to remove the cancer, she took it hard. When Francis went, she started smoking more, and became more depressed.
It would have gone on this ways for several years, probably, but (in 2000?) she went to treat herself to a pedicure. The stupid girl used an emery board or stone on her feet. Because of the diabetic neuropathy, she didn't feel it as the twit rubbed blisters onto the balls of her feet. They became infected, and G found her on the floor one day when he came home. Into the hospoital she went.
Kaiser, of course, was it's usual incompetant self. It took them days to figure out what was wrong, they switched her medications to something that had her nearly drowning in her own fluids, and generally made a mess. They took off several toes, and the quack surgeons didn't address the foot deformation that resulted as she healed. They told her they could "fix it later", and then refused to do so because she was a diabetic. They gave her NO physical therapy, and only minimal pain relief. The idiots wanted her confined to bed for nearly two years. She was essentially stuck in her front room, without physical therapy.
Her mental state pretty much followed her physical state. While she finally started doing a better job of managing her diabetes (G had to cook, because she was bed bound at doctor's demand), it was really too late. She also smoked more, and cried more for Francis.
This went on for a year or more, and we went back to getting together for our weekly dinners, and babbled about all kinds of stuff, from politics to books and movies.
Then, within the last year, her feet got infected again (and she lost more toes, again without physical therapy). Then in June she had some sort of stroke and even in the hospital she wanted someone to bring her her "stash" of pills to check out with. That wasn't possible. She was ticked, and I can't blame her. She ended up unable to transfer even to her own potti chair right next to her bed. She needed 24 x 7 care. Kaiser sent her home, and did nothing more. G still had to work, so my SO and I ended up "N sitting" - him more than me, because he could literally pick up all 300+ pounds of her when she blew a transfer.
By then, her mind was going even more. She couldn't concentrate well enough to read a book, or usenet. It upset her, and she had crying jags. She got more demanding, and she turned into a very unhappy, mean and demanding nag. The N I knew would have been horrified. She wanted to die, not live in a useless husk, her mind being eaten away by her physical problems. But she couldn't concentrate enough to do it.
One day she apparently had a lucid enough moment to find her stash of suicide pills and try to take them. Unfortunately, G discovered her and called the paramedics, who promptly tubed her and all that. She lived for several weeks. G told me that ICU only allowed family visitors, so I couldn't even go see her. But I knew. You don't have the kind of magical history together as N and I did and nbot *know* what the situation is.
Finally they admitted that she was dying, and gave her enough drugs to help the pain, and let her friends come to say goodbye.
Goodbye, N, I'll miss you. I'm sorry the last several monthd of your life sucked so badly - between Kaiser's incompetence, and them forcing you to live, I couldn't figure out how to change it.