Don’t Cry for Me Argentina– Heart Disease, Anger and Gnomes

For those reading this going through the same thing I just want you to know you are not alone.

 

They say heart surgery or even receiving a diagnosis of heart disease can change someone’s personality, pretty much like any psychological trauma. Sometimes there can be changes in the brain that cause personality changes, but more often it’s just the shock of recognizing that you have a serious condition.

Every day I sit outside between mosquito attacks dwelling on the lack of time I might have had. When you have cancer in most cases you have time to say goodbye. When I had my strokes I was lucky to be able to talk to my kids. But when you have heart issues sometimes you might not be granted the chance to say any last words when a heart attack hits.

I was briefly told about mood swings, but never to the extent I am feeling them now. Chances are if you angered me 10 years ago, it’s been dug up in the past month and I am mad at you again now. Absolutely ludicrous? I agree– but welcome to my world. Right now there are no solutions for reigning in this rage I have. Talk to someone you say? In reality, years of talking to learned folks never helped me as I am one of the most stubborn people you have ever met. Honestly, I am my own worst enemy, and I listen to no one, and still not about to now.

Today I went all Anthony Scaramoucci on a neighbouring kid. I don’t like having to lock my gates but I have too. The vandalism got so bad at one point in our yard that we had to make a decision to build a gate and fence and basically lock the world out– but things still happen.

This morning I was fuming at WordPress because I couldn’t update anything due to a bug, and then I heard a loud bang outside. I knew trouble was afoot and I recognized the kid from previous events I’ve had to call him out on. It wasn’t a big deal, but he had pushed one of my three foot gnomes over on purpose. You don’t mess with my gnomes trust me.

Instead of just carrying on with life the steam began to rise and I decided to water the garden to calm down. I really believe that all of us have a lot of darkness in our souls– anger, rage, fear, sadness, and I think that in the course of your life you figure out ways to deal with that. When I asked one of my son’s staff how long it took his father to get over the feelings of anger after his heart attack he looked at me sadly and said–“he never did”. Honestly, I  don’t want to be that person, and really want to stop saying daily prayers to the devil as Bob Marley might say to me.

Ten minutes later I saw the kid come back and he put his arm through the fence ready to push the gnome over again. I went ballistic, and the conversation went something like this:

 

“What in the hell are you doing there?” (In an off the Richter scale volume)

 

“Oh, I just want to touch him.”

 

“No you don’t —I saw you push him over before-now leave him the ^&&*& alone!”

 

With that he pulled his arm back and ran off to tell his Mother what the miserable woman who lives in the “abandoned house” (as he calls it) across the street did again. I in turn went and moved my gnomes back 4 feet so he couldn’t touch them again.

They say you should never go to bed mad and just stay up and fight. I have sadness in me. I have heartbreak in me, I have anger, and I can’t seem to move forward. I have to accept that I have heart disease which is never going to go away and I have to deal with medication every single day that I hate.

If you have never had a heart attack it’s hard to explain how I feel and how easy it is for some to say that I should appreciate that I am alive–but– I have 206 bones in my body that I can break and only one heart. Every minute a woman dies from a heart attack and heart disease kills more women than all the cancers combined. It could have been me three weeks ago, and at some point I need to learn to draw the line so I can be responsible for myself again.

But, that is easier said than done, and I have no one else to blame– it’s my choice.

For those reading this going through the same thing I just want you to know you are not alone.

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

What Becomes of a Broken Heart?

And Suddenly I Became Sad for NO Reason at All….

Survivor’s Guilt —Set Adrift on a Memory Bliss

I Had a Stroke – I Didn’t Break My Leg!

 

GNOMES

 

Is Almonte Now Powered by Gnomes?

 

 

 

 

They Built this Township on….

 

 

It’s hard being human, and our greatest weakness is sometimes spent in giving up– even though the most certain way to succeed is to keep trying. I had to reintroduce myself to a pen, which became my new stage of opportunity and strength, not being allowed to have my laptop in the hospital when I had my heart attacks. Actually it was the only option left for me, and most certainly the regular opportunities were kept away from me for health reasons.

The last time I wrote by hand was when we lost power a year ago in Lanark County and a loving tribute to the late Marvin MacPherson was composed by pen under the sole light of what was left in my solarium. We know that stress is one of the most underrated of all heart disease factors and I have no idea how I would have coped among the first Beckwith settlers and the different stress factors they encountered when they came to Lanark County.

In judging the healing of my poor old heart and those that got off a ship anticipating sunshine, flowers, and lollipops I think we both underestimated what would lay before us. They literally got screwed, and I’m going to be if I don’t smarten up. Trust me, there is no other way for me to put it into words other than being frank for the both of us.

We both wandered through towering trees where we couldn’t seem to see the sky and lost our footing in the thick murky swamps. The only difference between us is that some of those poor Beckwith settlers only got 35 acres out of 100, and I got the full 100. Imagine if they had been given a full chance like I had been given in life.

The main reason that these Beckwith settlers survived was because of their fortitude and ultra conservatism (that word was Glenn Lockwood’s not mine). We eclectic folks would not have stood a chance in those days as we are more interested in words and decorating than building up a strong base. The first settlers received no rich soil like their Upper Canada counterparts – only ground with stone patches greeted them and those conditions carried on for years. Even in the 1940’s local children coming home from school were still instructed to pick up a rock or two to clear the land. One only has to drive through the back farm roads to see piles of rock scattered throughout the area to understand the magnitude. It was necessary for these emigrants to change their awareness of what they thought life would be and realize each day was going to be a struggle from now on– like myself.

In spite of all the issues they spoke about Beckwith Township becoming a powerhouse solely for the reason that it was named after Sir Thomas Sidney Beckwith (1772-1831) who was at that time a Canadian rockstar. But, did he really have their best interests at heart, or was it just the undercurrents of “a foot race” to see which township could become the best? In the end who really ended up picking the right door to great wealth and prizes?

Settlers really didn’t win with all their hardships, the Indians lost big time and who really wins after what is called ‘an event’ – medical or physical? In the end, as with anything, it was nothing but: a lot of vocabulary, (‘c’mon folks let’s keep that loving feeling’ ) and make sure those rogue fighting Americans huddling in the woods near Brockville stay away.

Roads began to be built and squabbles about Franktown re: name changes etc. similar to Almonte began the daily rounds. The residents and powers to be finally got it through their heads that the Jock River was no hub for mills, and as with anything else, the new up and coming settlement of Morphy Falls (Carleton Place) was the place to be seen and heard.

By 1840 Franktown consisted of less than a dozen homes and Morphy Falls was on the way to be coming what Franktown had wanted to become. They say that great things come to those that work hard, and like fighting heart disease; these settlers came, raised hell, and spread awareness of who they were. They proved they were intelligent, capable and they stayed strong–no matter what the challenge. The Beckwith settlers kept their heads and their heart strong… like I will try too–because..

They built this township

They built Beckwith Township on rock…. and roll.

 

 

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

Lanark County Genealogical Society Beckwith or Bust Bus Tour “Sing a Long”

Taming of the Beckwith Shrew?

History Still Lives on at The McEwen House in Beckwith

The House of Daughters –Stonecroft House

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

What Was it Like Living in Beckwith 1800s? Christina McEwen Muirhead

Christena McEwen– The Belle of Beckwith Part 1 -“The Woodcocks”

Peter Cram of Beckwith Perth and High Street in Carleton Place

Beckwith One Room Schools– Leona Kidd

Beckwith 1820 Census Lanark County–Who Do You Know?

The Beckwith Highlanders and “Humpy Billy” Moore

So Where is that Gnarled Oak in Beckwith?

“Teachester” Munro and the S.S. No. 9 Beckwith 11th Line East School

John Goth–Tales of Beckwith Township

Beckwith –Settlers — Sir Robert the Bruce— and Migrating Turtles

What I Did on Beckwith Heritage Days – Alexander Stewart – Ballygiblin Heroe

The Now Complete Page Turning Story of the Beckwith Grandfather Clock

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Home and Garden Before Home and Garden Magazine

Desperately Seeking Information About the “Beckwith Copperhead Road”

Hobo’s and Tragedies in Beckwith

Found on a Hill in Beckwith – Country Roads Take Me Home

 

 

 

What Do Men in Carleton Place Die From?

What do men in Carleton Place die from? I  can think of a few things:

Too many long aggressive walks to the beer fridge? Or, how about frustration from driving around while not asking for directions? It’s not from talking, as a woman speaks 7,000 words a day; a man speaks about 2,000. What about altercations about the lawn? The front lawn is the Holy Land, it’s never to be messed with!

Or maybe from a barbecue accident?. It is a well known fact men suddenly like to cook if danger and fire are involved. I don’t think it’s about fretting from being organized enough. That’s like herding a cat or or pushing a rope uphill.

So what has been documented in the media about death and the men from Carleton Place?

In 1984 local doctors were perplexed by a federal government study that men in Carleton Place were dying from heart disease at a rate 66% above the national average. The rate of death from heart disease for Carleton Place women was only a quarter of the national average. data for the study were collected from death certificates issued by the municipalities between 1973 and 1979.

In the case of heart disease, only deaths in the 35-69 age group were examined. Dr. Marton White, Carleton Place coroner, said he didn’t have much faith in statistics. Dr. Michael Corriveau, medical health officer said he had no idea why the rate in Carleton Place was so high. Between 1973-1979 over 42 men in Carleton Place died from heart disease. The norm was 27. In the same period of time only 9 women died due to heart disease.

White could not explain why Carleton Place was so much riskier for men than women, but he believed heart disease was connected to hereditary factors. He added that Carleton Place was rather a fairly closed community, in the sense that older families and farmers tend to stay in the area and often marry among the local families. Five of the 42 deaths recorded occurred in one family. Surprisingly smoking was not to be the major cause of heart disease in Carleton Place.