Several years ago I worked in the Women’s Center at a community college. My female boss went on a year’s sabbatical to teach English in China. While she was gone the interim director gave me freedom to decide what pamphlets to put on a display rack and which clippings concerning women would go up on our bulletin board ,etc.
I had also been in a select group who wrote editorials for our hometown newspaper for the past four years, so my name was known to many of the local readers. I am a conservative and that reflected in the columns I wrote. This request pitted my religious and political beliefs against my job, because the department head had a liberal slant on life. A twenty-something young woman kind of slunk into the chair next to my desk and in a hushed voice she whispered to me, “Quick, tell me where I can get an abortion, and I don’t want any backtalk!” It was the dreaded question I hoped I would never hear. I sent her to the county health department, where I thought she would get some counseling.
Thinking about the incident, I wrote an editorial citing childless couples who would dearly love to have a child, and adoption organizations that could help them. The column was placed at the top of the editorial page with a bold headline that would be hard to miss.
A couple of days later my boss lady stopped in the Women’s Center prior to her resuming her job on the following Monday morning. While she was sitting there chatting a couple of her teacher friends came by to say “hello” to her. Then one turned to me and said she had enjoyed reading the editorial that was in the paper. My boss asked what it was about and the other teacher went to get her copy of the newspaper. As my boss sat reading the editorial she grew visibly white. Then she got up and said we’d talk about it on Monday, and left.
Monday morning she asked me to come into her office and said regarding the editorial, “We are to be a referral agency and not state our own views, and did I think I could live with that?” I muttered, “I guess so,” but I couldn’t live with having to give advice to help women get abortions. After a restless night with my conscience, I came back to my boss and told her she had my two-weeks notice because I quit. At that time I kept thinking of the line to a poem, “I have to live with myself and so, I want to be fit for myself to know.”
I thought the Lord would reward me with a new job for taking this noble stand, but it didn’t happen that way. I had a hard time getting another job and ended up working for a temporary agency for a few years. As it turned out, I got to learn a variety of new computer applications without paying for any training. If I had stayed with my job at the Women’s Center I would not have had that opportunity.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
LDSW #12 - A Minor Miracle
While on our mission in Toronto, we were asked to plan a Dominion Day ward picnic that was like our old Lewisville Park celebrations, which was still being talked about months later. On the day of the picnic one of the leaders had an assignment to bring sandbag weights for the volleyball stands but he forgot. My husband had a minor miracle occur. It was a holiday and stores were closed, so he just started driving around trying to think of something. He turned into a cul-de-sac where there was a pile of 2' by 4' cement slabs with a sign saying, "free take some." They were perfect for the job and the bishop said he would keep them to use next year.
LDSW #11 - Why We Decided to Serve a Church Mission
In late1999 my husband and I had been on a visit to the Portland Temple. On our way home that evening he asked me how I felt about going on a mission for the Church from September to September. He was a white water rafting guide and only wanted to miss one rafting season. I had several reasons why I didn’t think it would be a good idea, the major one being that my mother was living in an assisted living facility and I was her main moral support. I don’t know what cosmic beings heard that conversation, but my mother died exactly one week later. That was in February of 2000.
One of my sons who came to the funeral had a discussion with me. He pointed out that we had reasonably good health and we were out of debt. We had a regular pension income. He called it a window of opportunity. I had received a modest inheritance and felt that going on a mission is something my mother would approve of.
We started the process of applying to go on a mission. We had a lot of household goods we needed to sell or give away so over the summer we held three garage sales. During the last hour of our third sale I literally saw people come to the sale to buy the very things that were left. We still had some big items that weren’t in the sale, and we only had three days to get rid of them while cleaning house before our renters were to move into our home. In those two days we sold a car, had someone offer to store our washer and dryer in their shed, and eight other “miracles.” By the day before we entered the Missionary Training Center all ten items were taken care of. There is no doubt in my mind that we were supposed to go. We entered the MTC in late August of 2000 prior to our serving in the Toronto Ontario East Mission. It was a great mission!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Spiritual Experiences - LDSW #9 and #10
LDSW #9
When I was living at Fort Devens, MA as a young bride, we belonged to a Servicemen’s Group of our church and attended Sunday meetings at a non-denominal chapel on the base. Two missionaries from our church also attended there and about 15 service families. One Sunday after the meetings several of us were standing in a small group, just chatting. The missionaries approached the group and one, an Elder Keith S. from Brigham City, UT, whom I had never known before he came to Massachusetts, shook my hand and asked, “How are you today, Sister Gustaveson? “ ”I looked at him in surprise and asked, “Where did you hear that name?” Startled, he replied, “That is your name isn’t it?” I answered, “That’s my maiden name, nobody here knows it. Where did you hear it?” He replied, “I just knew it.” We concluded that he must have known me in our pre-existant lives.
LDSW #10
My father passed away in February, 1989 and my grandson Scott was born March 12, 1990. When he was about four years old he pointed to a photograph of my parents in his home. He asked who the man in the photo was and was told he was his father’s Grandpa Gustaveson. He then told his mother, “He brought me to you.”
When I was living at Fort Devens, MA as a young bride, we belonged to a Servicemen’s Group of our church and attended Sunday meetings at a non-denominal chapel on the base. Two missionaries from our church also attended there and about 15 service families. One Sunday after the meetings several of us were standing in a small group, just chatting. The missionaries approached the group and one, an Elder Keith S. from Brigham City, UT, whom I had never known before he came to Massachusetts, shook my hand and asked, “How are you today, Sister Gustaveson? “ ”I looked at him in surprise and asked, “Where did you hear that name?” Startled, he replied, “That is your name isn’t it?” I answered, “That’s my maiden name, nobody here knows it. Where did you hear it?” He replied, “I just knew it.” We concluded that he must have known me in our pre-existant lives.
LDSW #10
My father passed away in February, 1989 and my grandson Scott was born March 12, 1990. When he was about four years old he pointed to a photograph of my parents in his home. He asked who the man in the photo was and was told he was his father’s Grandpa Gustaveson. He then told his mother, “He brought me to you.”
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Getting a Prescription Refilled
I have been through a hoop--so to speak, which took me two months and $80 to jump through. I have taken Avandia since 1999, when it first became available on the market. Despite its bad press, it has kept my type 2 diabetes under excellent control with few or no side effects.
A year ago we had to go onto a new health plan. After begging and pleading I was allowed to have a one-year prescription. About December 9th I began the process of renewal. The renewal was due for the first of this year. Thanks to three three-day mail holidays and an ice storm in the Northwest, plus an intern pharmacist who tried to call me, and did't know I don't text or answer voice mail messages, and he only worked weekends so that was another delay in getting vitally needed information to me. I finally learned that the manufacturer had stopped manufacturing the prescription. I called several well-known pharmacies and none of them had any Avandia to dispense,
Well that was only partially true. I contacted the company involved and was told I had to apply to be admitted to their access program. I spent more time finding the web site without help, and finally downloaded an application form, but that wasn't all, and my meager supply of pills was dwindling. I cut them in half to make them last longer, even though my blood sugar readings went somewhat higher. I had to send the application to my doctor because I am spending the winter in Arizona and he is in a northwestern state --more delays and waiting for phone calls. Everyone I talked to knew I was running out of the pills. Finally the doctor decided to send another kind of prescription to the mail order pharmacy for me to try. I made the online order but stopped short when I was charged $646.50 for the substitute. (Avandia only cost about $240 for 90 days supply and I was already in the prescription doughnut hole). My credit card could not stand such an increase that month. I cancelled the order.
I went without any Avandia for the next 10 days, controlling the blood sugar with smaller amounts of a companion drug and watching my diet. Except for episodes of diaharrea from the companion medication being too strong, I did fairly well. I guess I had weaned myself off Avandia when I was taking the half pills.
So finally, on Feb. 7th I got a phone call telling me I was accepted into the access program and my doctor's correct prescription was entered with the only pharmacy that dispenses Avandia, who contacted my regular mail order pharmacy to set up my account, and by the miracle of next day mail, a 30-day supply with 11 refills available arrived at my door on Feb. 9th. If this is part of the O'Bama/Medicare Part D plan what happens next January 1st?
A year ago we had to go onto a new health plan. After begging and pleading I was allowed to have a one-year prescription. About December 9th I began the process of renewal. The renewal was due for the first of this year. Thanks to three three-day mail holidays and an ice storm in the Northwest, plus an intern pharmacist who tried to call me, and did't know I don't text or answer voice mail messages, and he only worked weekends so that was another delay in getting vitally needed information to me. I finally learned that the manufacturer had stopped manufacturing the prescription. I called several well-known pharmacies and none of them had any Avandia to dispense,
Well that was only partially true. I contacted the company involved and was told I had to apply to be admitted to their access program. I spent more time finding the web site without help, and finally downloaded an application form, but that wasn't all, and my meager supply of pills was dwindling. I cut them in half to make them last longer, even though my blood sugar readings went somewhat higher. I had to send the application to my doctor because I am spending the winter in Arizona and he is in a northwestern state --more delays and waiting for phone calls. Everyone I talked to knew I was running out of the pills. Finally the doctor decided to send another kind of prescription to the mail order pharmacy for me to try. I made the online order but stopped short when I was charged $646.50 for the substitute. (Avandia only cost about $240 for 90 days supply and I was already in the prescription doughnut hole). My credit card could not stand such an increase that month. I cancelled the order.
I went without any Avandia for the next 10 days, controlling the blood sugar with smaller amounts of a companion drug and watching my diet. Except for episodes of diaharrea from the companion medication being too strong, I did fairly well. I guess I had weaned myself off Avandia when I was taking the half pills.
So finally, on Feb. 7th I got a phone call telling me I was accepted into the access program and my doctor's correct prescription was entered with the only pharmacy that dispenses Avandia, who contacted my regular mail order pharmacy to set up my account, and by the miracle of next day mail, a 30-day supply with 11 refills available arrived at my door on Feb. 9th. If this is part of the O'Bama/Medicare Part D plan what happens next January 1st?
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