Finding the Body, Day 3, and the Mysterious Flower

Mysterious Iris for the Lost (from “I found a body” series of three posts).

Mysterious Iris for the Lost (from “I found a body” series of three posts).

We visited the site again this morning. Before the incident, I walked Jazzy past it sometimes as many as six times on a typical day. What happened Wednesday hasn’t deterred us from that ritual.

For the past couple of days, we’ve stopped in the same location from which we’d spotted the body, and both Jazzy and I have stared down into the empty water. I know Jazzy has been reliving that moment as much as I. Until this morning, I’d gaze down unrealistically wishing that I might somehow see something that would replace the shocking reality we’d found. I had no choice but to look, my eyes drawn to that place in the water.

This morning was different. I found myself hesitant to look, feeling eerily reluctant, as if I would find another lost soul’s vessel floating there. I knew if that happened, I would surely vomit. The first time hadn’t hit me that hard, but a second time would have sent me over the edge and into the Twilight Zone.

Once Jazzy and I crept to the side of the high bank and looked over, I was relieved to see…nothing. But when we turned to leave, I noticed something I hadn’t before. Surely it was because of my focus and dread that I hadn’t noticed it: a sole iris, purple and lovely. Irises grow wild, so it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. But as I looked closer at this fully bloomed blood iris, I saw that it was surrounded by potting soil. It had been freshly planted.

I was immediately taken aback at the instant of this revelation. Someone had cared enough to leave this flower on the site of the woman’s passing. Had it been family? Had it been one of the law enforcement officers or EMTs? Or had it been a stranger?

I must admit that I felt both pleased at someone’s thoughtfulness but at the same time somewhat guilty by it as well. I had unjustifiably found a sort of kinship with the deceased, the thoughts of this person and her life dominating my mind for going on three days. Some of the memory remained very unpleasant: the sight of what turtles do to a body, motionless in the water, forever etched behind my eyes; the sound of Jazzy’s frightened bark at the body’s movement while being assaulted by the turtles, sounding over and over in my ears (normally silent, she’s barked softly no more than six times before this in her eighteen months of life); and the footprints leading to the body on that muddy bank forever being questioned in my head.

So has anything changed for me or Jazzy Brass? I can’t say it has in a major way. For some days to come, Jazzy will likely be drawn, as I will, to the place we’d stood on that faithful morning. I will be attracted to the flower as well, in hopes that it will continue to bloom in the absence of the life it symbolizes.

I will treat my golden retriever companion’s side trips from the beaten path with more respect than they would normally deserve—her often picking up on the scent of rabbits or squirrels. After all, this is the second body other than rodents’ she’s found—the first being a yearling deer killed by a bobcat or pack of coyotes right here in suburbia last fall.

I will put this day behind us in hopes of never reliving the feeling of unbelieving helplessness from less than three days ago.

My self-therapy session is finished.

I found a body yesterday—Jazzy Brass and I

No good news comes today. But there is news that brings some sort of resolution, at least to law enforcement. They tell me the death was neither accidental nor foul play. It was not natural, either. I am somewhat relieved. (For background see yesterday’s post: I just found a body.)

It wasn’t on the TV news. I watched for it all day, hoping to steer my thoughts and emotions in one way or another down a rocky path. I searched the Internet for news. There was absolutely nothing. I became suspicious. At first, I wondered if there could be good reason for this information to be held from the public. A little frightening, if that were the case. Then I questioned if my mystery-thriller-writer’s brain had taken me on a side trip of its own.

Finally, this morning I queried and found out. I’m still numb. I’m sorrowful for the deceased and for the family. Briefly, I felt anger at the human condition. As I write this now, I feel empathy for a life that was troubled so much: empathizing, not just sympathizing.

We’ve all had our troubles, some so much more than others. Most of us are on the lighter side of that and should be so very thankful for what we’ve had and have now. I’m not talking about riches, at least the material kind. I’m talking about lives enriched with the wonders of this world enough that it’s been a positive experience more than a negative one. After all, life is a gift that should never be taken for granted. A gift; to live. Is society to blame? Do we easily cast off souls to become human driftwood?

So the rest of us go on. We see another day, thankful we and our loved ones are alive one more day. We hope and pray we’ll see the sunrise tomorrow and the sunset on another good day. It won’t last forever. Enjoy it. Savor it. Take in a deep breath of fresh air and taste it, feel it, live it. Be a part of it. Look at your loved ones and enjoy the sight of them, even if only in a photo. Take a mental trip back and find pleasure in the good memories of them. And if you have arms, use them. Hug someone special to you. If you have legs, take advantage of them. Go to someone you care for, if for no other good reason but to lend them your smile to pass on to others. Never take these things for granted. And, if you have a big heart, touch it, feel it, explore it. Push it out and let others do the same in return.

I’ll continue to write about death, murder and violence in my thrillers. I’ll continue to make the bad guy a living, breathing thing that, after overcoming impossible odds, can be dealt with, given his comeuppance, and stopped.

But real life goes on. The real bad guys sometimes get away. And sometimes the bad guy isn’t a guy or girl at all. Sometimes it’s your own heart and mind. Sometimes it lives in your soul, becomes a part of you. It torments you. Get help. Sometimes you can’t do it alone. You can’t be the good guy all the time and put the villain in its place. Its place isn’t inside your skull or in the center of your chest. It may be deeply rooted. You might need help. Don’t be afraid to ask. There are thousands like you who can be helped if they’d just ask. Don’t allow yourself to slip through societal cracks. And don’t let anyone you love or even know slip away, either. Get help.

Regardless, my heroine is my golden retriever Jazzy Brass. I thank God for her. I thank God for my family. I’m thankful for my kids and lovely grand kids, all my friends… I’m thankful for a life that isn’t always positive, but seldom all negative, and for waking to over 20,000 sunrises.

To find help through troubled times, here are a few resources:

Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention:

http://www.afsp.org/

Help Guide—Suicide Prevention:

http://www.helpguide.org/mental/suicide_prevention.htm

Suicide Prevention Resource Center:

http://www.sprc.org/

CDC’s Violence Prevention Page:

http://www.cdc.gov/ViolencePrevention/suicide/

American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy:

http://www.aamft.org/iMIS15/AAMFT/

Safe Horizon for Domestic Violence:

http://www.safehorizon.org/index/get-help-8/for-domestic-violence-35.html?gclid=CIzs7Y_IvLACFcIUKgod5Fd-qg

Hospice Foundation of America:

http://www.hospicefoundation.org/

Know of other important resources for our troubled friends? Please leave them in a comment.

Take care, my friends, my fellow members of the human race club. Let the Good Lord grant you another, and always better and brighter, day.

I just found a body

Really. Actually my golden retriever Jazzy Brass spotted it first. I won’t say exactly where or who, but it was a woman still in the prime of life, face down in two feet of clear, still creek water. We found it 90 minutes before I started writing—this being something for me to do in order to come to grips with the situation on a personal level. Right now I feel little more than sadness, even though I want to feel more. That’s probably coming. Examining a little deeper, I find somberness and somehow a kinship to the deceased.

In the past I’ve seen death. That hasn’t bothered me so much before. I write about death often in my thriller novels. But I’ve never been the first person to discover a body. I know this happens all the time, especially with a spouse or friend who has passed in their home. It’s just a bit different when it’s a stranger found in a public, yet somewhat concealed place.

I find myself wishing somehow that person would have shown signs of life—that I could have saved that life. I’m a Red Cross certified CPR, First Aid and AED trainer. Maybe I could have done something, had there been but a small perceptible sign.

Regardless, I feel my sweet Jazzy Brass is a heroine. She’s the best companion anyone could have. And by pointing the body out to me, forcing me to come look at what she’d discovered, she saved this person’s family and friends the additional heartache of going without knowing what had happened to their loved one any longer. I imagine that even a few minutes in their lives may have made at least a tiny difference.

BTW, before I made this post, I waited for the police to inform me that an officer had notified the deceased’s next of kin.

I feel a bit of reverence for this unfortunate person. I don’t wish to disrespect her. But for some reason, I feel a need—an importance—to give my thoughts. Maybe it’s for my own therapy. Maybe something I bring up will help someone else—I don’t know why or see how. I’ll probably blog more about this in the coming hours and days. There is more to tell, but I’ll wait for news and police reports before I comment further on specifics.

Does anyone have any thoughts to share? If so, please do. It could be important to me and you—and perhaps someone else viewing this post.

Follow up the day after “I just found a body”: “I found a body yesterday–Jazzy Brass and I”

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News Flash: E Z Knight is stuck in the Big Easy!

THIS IS OLD NEWS! KNIGHT’S BIG EASY MADE ITS DEBUT JUNE 30!

E Z Knight fans have been after me about when the next episode will be published. Well the first draft is finished and on my editors’ desks. The book will hit Amazon very soon!

JUNE 30!

That’s right. Poor ol’ E Z Knight has been stuck down in Norlins (New Orleans) for the past two and a half months (my writing time, that is). He’s in the Big Easy trying to stop some really mean bastards from killing a whole bunch of people, including Billie, the son of E Z’s parole officer, Tamara White Cloud.

Leaving Smokey and his buddies Beautiful and Booger behind in Southern California, he’s working with Black Zack, an old jazz trombone player, and beautiful redhead FBI Special Agent Pooh Dooley (Poodoo), who’s working undercover in more ways than one. They’re chasing and being chased by a couple of despicable villains named Papa Legba and Sheriff DePue. These two lowlifes are playing God over the lives of 500 children.

This is the wildest ride E Z’s been on yet, and if you’ve read Knight’s Ransom, you know I’m not talking about Disneyland amusements. With eyes popping, necks breaking, stabbing, shooting, choking, and even a little alligator chomping, E Z is working his way to the bottom of this, his deadliest of all capers yet. And staying alive and among the living has been especially difficult with a Voodoo queen doing everything she can to make him a zombie, and his new ally Jazz player Black Zack hauling something a little more illegal than plain fescue clippings in back of his pickup.

Time is running out–500 kids’ lives are at stake. Find out what happens in Knight’s Big Easy coming at the end of June.

Still on the back burner is Jazzy Brass’s Missing Scenes. Knight’s Big Easy is Jazzy’s debut, and she’ll accompany E Z in every episode from their meeting in the Big Easy forward.

Happy reading!

Phillip Phillips (& Vince Neil, too)–Ouch! Want to know about pain? Try a kidney stone!

Okay, there are probably a thousand other things that hurt worse than kidney stones, but I personally haven’t experienced those thousand other things. Although most common in men, some of the women who’ve both given birth and had kidney stone episodes say they’d much rather deliver a baby.

What’s this got to do with writing thriller novels, my new “The E Z Knight Reports” series, BRAINSTORM, DEAD RECKONING or JEZEBEL? Very little–except…well, you’ll see if you read further.

The newly crowned 2012 American Idol winner Phillip Phillips (and now Motley Crue’s Vince Neil, as well) has had a few bouts with kidney stones, as well. He seems to be a really good guy and a great singer. I hope he can gain control of these troublesome “little” things and they don’t get in the way of his career. From news accounts, I’d guess he has what is known as medullary sponge kidneys (MSK), not a disease, but a condition in which the passages in the kidneys are larger than normal, and thus allow for sediment to build up and create stones. If he is cursed with this condition, he has company.

I was diagnosed with MSK back in 1991 when x-rays revealed that I had over two dozen stones in my kidneys. I had a number of stones before that, and have had literally hundreds since. After numerous lithotripsy surgeries of various types, I’ve finally gotten this condition somewhat under control. Lithotripsy surgery doesn’t cure stones, it just removes them. Most times, these procedures are out-patient, occasionally requiring an over-night stay in the hospital ($30,000+).

For this procedure, they’ll either:

1. make a small incision and go after the stone (rarely done anymore from what I’ve read—and a little more extended hospital stay can be expected);

2. go after the stone with a long, thin catheter-type tool that has a tiny water nozzle, some tiny extractor arms and a camera on it (don’t worry, it’s not a 35 mm—all that stuff is really quite small). This is neat to watch as the camera passes through your body (but hey, this is personal stuff—make them promise the video won’t be posted on YouTube the next day!);

3. blast the stones with sonic waves (extracorporeal shock wave lithotripsy or ESWL). They’ll either put you out or use a drug called versed. They’ll tell you versed won’t put you to sleep in order to keep you from feeling the pain. Instead with versed, you just won’t remember the pain you have! I don’t know about you, but this makes me feel a bit uncomfortable — lying naked and in pain on a table, surrounded by people in masks, all the while being video-taped. If there’s ever a porn movie made from it, I want royalties!

If you’re lucky, you won’t need a stent—a tube that is temporarily inserted into the ureter on the affected side that makes the passageway larger so that the bigger stones and particles will pass more easily. These things will make you howl–hurt nearly as bad as the stone would when you go pee (I happen to be a freak with two ureters on my right side–which doubles the fun with stents inserted into both). Then you have to come back a month later and have the stent yanked out (and I do mean yanked).

When you have the first stone, you might think you’re dying (click here for symptoms)—especially if you don’t know what’s happening to your body. Don’t worry, you’ll probably live. Following that first one, it gets a little easier for the sole reason that you know what’s twisting your gut so badly. After passing a couple dozen, it becomes somewhat routine. When you’ve passed a couple hundred, with the help of the right pain reliever and/or nausea medication, it’s barely more than a mild inconvenience.

Many folks think that the pain is only in the passing of the stone when it leaves the body. For some crazy reason, they think that the only time you feel the pain is when it shoots through the urethra (penis if you prefer, guys). This is relatively painless compared to the dull but intense ache some sufferers feel in the back and flank, or the intense twisting agony most experience in the lower gut.

Something to watch out and be prepared for: some radiologists will tell you that you won’t feel back pain from a stone because the kidney doesn’t have the right nerve receptors, or some such nonsense. DON’T believe them! Although some stone sufferers never experience this discomfort, you might. The back pain isn’t from the kidney itself, but from the tissue surrounding it due to the kidney lobes swelling and adding pressure to that entire area of the back (can you guess that I’ve been told this before and that it really “pisses” me off?).

There are a number of different types of kidney stones and they’re formed by different things. The most common are the calcium type, followed by uric acid stones and several others. Diet is really the key to controlling these little bastards. Drinking lots of water is imperative with any type of kidney stone, as well.

Specifically for uric acid stones, what I understand the best thing you can do to reduce stone formation is to cut down on your animal protein intake—especially red meat (I know, guys and gals—ARGH!).

With the mean little sticker-bur calcium stones, reducing oxalates is the key (oxa-what?). Yeah, oxalates. This salt compound binds with the calcium being filtered out by your kidneys in order to pass from your body in your urine. Oxalates cause calcium to build up, eventually looking something like a very horny little quartz rock.

Generally, anything larger than 5 mm (about 3/16″) won’t pass without surgery. But even the tiniest of stones can cause you just as much trouble as the bigger ones that pass. They’ll scrape the lining of your ureter and may even block it. This creates pressure in the vessel from the build up of urine, stretching the canal and causing colic (spasms) that will…well, let’s say “rock” your world.

Here’s the problem with trying to limit oxalate intake. Oxalates are in all the good food you eat! That’s right, you can watch your diet and eat healthy according to most medical standards and still be literally plagued with kidney stones. Why? Because that healthy diet isn’t necessarily the best diet for calcium kidney stone sufferers.

Get this: oxalates are in chocolate (damn it!). They’re in nuts (sorry, I can’t help it: “nuts!”). They’re in spinach (okay, no big deal—just kidding, moms!). They’re in berries, many green vegetables, all kinds of really good and healthy food!

From over twenty years’ experience of dealing with these little hell-raisers, here’s my suggestions for if you suspect you’re having symptoms of a kidney stone passing, or think you might have MSK:

1. See a doctor, but not just any ol’ MD. Find a good urologist (pee-pee doctor) to take a look at your parts, as well as a good nephrologist (kidney specialist), who can tell you more about what kind of diet you need to follow.

2. If you’re diagnosed with calcium stones, and he/she doesn’t’ prescribe potassium citrate, ask for it—it truly works wonders for calcium stones. There are other meds like allopurinol and hydrochlorothiazide (a diuretic that makes you pee a lot), that might be prescribed as well. If you need pain meds, they’ll probably give you some kind of opiate like hydrocodone, oxycodone or Lortab as well. If you get sick from the stone pain, like many do, ask for ondansetron (generic for Zofran)—I’d much rather have the pain than that damn nausea.

3. Drink tons of water! Revised: But not just any water. Only drink purified water WITHOUT “minerals added for taste”. It’s those minerals you want to stay away from in the first place. Aquafina (this is not a commercial–and I don’t get paid for this mention!) is one of the many brands that don’t add minerals.

4. If you have calcium stones, learn how to identify foods with high levels of oxalates and limit your intake. If you have uric acid stones, lay off the red meat.

5. Okay, here’s a no-brainer, but since I obviously went without a brain for nearly twenty years until I did the ol’ V-8 slap…don’t drink cranberry juice. If you’ve been diagnosed as a calcium stone former, it might just be the worst thing you could do! Yes, I thought the little bit of oxalate in cranberry juice wouldn’t hurt me, and that the positive effect of drinking kidney-healthy cranberry juice would far outweigh the oxalate concerns in cranberries. WRONG! I’ve had stones, sometimes as many as two or more a week for over twenty years.

a. I drank cranberry juice about that long because I thought it’d help keep my kidneys healthy and happy considering all the Hell that the stones were putting them through. A few months ago, I ran out of cranberry juice and kept forgetting to get more on shopping trips to the store. I went for a week without the cranberry juice that I had been drinking at least twice a day. No stones. I went for a month without it. No stones. It’s been four or five months now and, although I have had some minor flare-ups since, there hasn’t been nearly as many as I had before I went cold cranberry—er, uh, turkey.

b. The conclusion? Drink more orange juice and/or lemon juice. The citric acid in these juices help break down and slow calcium stone formation.

So, you say, “What’s all this got to do with fiction writing, novel-writing, thrillers, etc.?” Well, guess what condition I’m going to give my protagonist E Z Knight from my new men’s action/adventure thriller series? That’s right! He’s going to suffer from MSK right along with me! Coming out in June in Knight’s Big Easy, tough-as-a-starving-grizzly-bear E Z Knight is going to be given kidney stones by a very wicked Voodoo queen.

I ain’t no doctor…(but I’ve written in their POV before, and it’s very scary), so don’t believe me or follow any of my advice without consulting your own physician. And, for a much more in-depth look at this condition and what you can do to reduce or maybe even eliminate kidney stone troubles, check out the resources below.

Books: No More Kidney Stones (this is my favorite), but Amazon lists a whole bunch here: (click!)

Websites: You’ll find a number of really good sites here: (click!)