The Next Two Years

I’ll not bore you with the more mundane things that happened in our life as I've already told you about my dog, Diablo. Some of the events are condensed. Our next door neighbors to the East were a couple we knew from high school days. The man was one of Lanny’s best friends. We had double dated before our marriage.

One weekend the four of us took a trip to Bisbee to see an old timer we had heard about. The man was amazing. He was eighty-four years old, towered over both my husband and friend. He had walked from Mexico to Alaska when younger. A mule had been his pack animal. He still stood ram-rod straight and worked in one of the mines up in Bisbee area. He was married to a woman fifty years his junior and she was expecting twins. He looked at Lanny and his friend and said, “And those babies are mine.” It was as if he was daring them to say they weren't.

Instead they asked questions about the early days of mining. It was then something made me so weak and nauseated I had to go back to the car and lie down. My head was pounding. I assumed it was the altitude. I do not remember the trip back home, but went straight to bed when we arrived.

Later that night I ran to the bathroom and lost our first baby. It was unformed and had no limbs. I was so upset I was vomiting and flushing it all down the toilet. I didn't know I was supposed to save it to prove I had a miscarriage. Then I started crying. That brought Lanny running as he knew I never cried, but at the time there was such an empty void, a horrific feeling of loss that I could not stop and wanted to be alone. Somehow I explained what happened.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, go ahead and cry.” was all he said.

Then began weeks of dragging and not feeling well. I went to the neighborhood doctor and he gave me vitamin B-12 shots. Of course, I would go home and work like a mad person for two weeks until the shot wore off and I was once again a weakling.

About this time, my brother, his wife, and two children arrived from Phoenix. They were relocating. We opened our home to them as there was ample room. Although my niece and nephew weren't too sure since they had to temporarily share a bedroom.

One night I collapsed in our bedroom. Lanny came in and found me. He picked me up as he muttered, “Aw, sweetheart, what did you do that for?”

“I’m hemorrhaging again,” I managed to say. He then carried me through the house, told my sister-by-marriage (who was fixing dinner for all) and my brother that he was taking me to the emergency room.

The doctor, of course, did a D and C (I think that is what he called it) and sent me home. I did have one appointment with him and he explained that he couldn't verify a miscarriage without the fetus (baby in my mind), but it was common for small women to miscarry on their first child.

Fast forward. Both my sister (by marriage) and my brother found work, their house in Council Bluffs sold, and they bought a house about five or six blocks from us. I think my niece and nephew may have been happiest about the move.

We both found a different doctor than the one in our neighborhood. We were finally saving money again when the union went on strike. We did get a smidgen from the union, but to make ends meet, Lanny went back to work for the stockyards. While carrying a bale of hay, he stepped through a hole in the hay. The effort to hang onto the bale and the sudden downward plunge caused a hernia. He went into the hospital for an operation and I went back to work.

Somehow I managed to procure a position as a credit checker for a loan company that made loans to individuals and businesses. Someday I’ll have to devote a whole blog to that experience, but one should suffice.

One of the farmers on the fringes of Phoenix was behind in the automobile payments. The collector set up a meeting with them and they arrived with a friend. They introduced him as their lawyer. I did a double take. No way could that young man have been a lawyer. He had dropped out of school when he was a sophomore as the school made it plain he was not wanted. He had gotten into trouble with the law for forging driver’s licenses and other documents and had to go on the run. The collector never permitted interruptions while with a client and I was busy making telephone calls.

When I came up for air, everyone at the other desk was shaking hands and the farmer, his wife, and lawyer walked out with a new loan. I was surprised. Usually that collector saw through every attempt at fraud. I went over and asked why he had written a new loan.

“The man had his attorney with him and the lawyer could have caused a lot of problems and costs. This is less costly in the long run.”

“No, it isn't.” I mentioned the so-called lawyer’s name and said, “He dropped out of school and there hasn't been enough years for him to have a law degree.”

“He’s brilliant,” the collector stated. “He even gave me his card.”

“Of course, he did. He’s been printing and forging cards since he was a freshman in high school.” That was the first and only time I saw that collector’s mouth drop.

Lanny recovered, the strike was over, and it looked like we could start saving again when I realized something was wrong with my system and went to our doctor. The doctor listened and determined I needed to leave a sample.

Three days later, our doctor called me at work. “Congratulations, Collier, the rabbit died.”