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CHAPTER EIGHT

School & Another Move

For the entire year of 1985, Joe was in school. He graduated top in his class (VVI) but then was unable to find work. He got a temporary job repairing video games at UBC, at a minimal wage. We were not able to stay at The Orchard, because the rent was more than what we could afford. We had our name in the Housing Co-op in Richmond, where Mary and Steve lived. Just in time, we were accepted there; Steve and his friends helped us to move.

We liked it at the Co-op, but were right under the flight-path for the International Airport and the noise began to get to me. I found out that noise problems are typical, with thyroid disease. We had to move out of the Co-op and into an apartment in a different area (and less noisy area)of Richmond.

Joe got a good job in Vancouver, on Howe Street...Stronco Audio-Visual. Things seemed to be going pretty good for us. We were visiting a few churches in Richmond, but didn't find what we wanted. I did daycare of one little boy and really enjoyed him...after awhile I found out that it wasn't allowed in our apartment building, so I went to his house.

We liked it in Richmond and were hoping to stay. We have always enjoyed walking and now we had an excellent place to do just that; we had the dike with the view of the mountains and the salt water, and we had a huge park behind our apartment. And, we also had a woman in the apartment above us who came home at 3 a.m., with a man...and history repeated itself!

I called The Orchard, to see if they would let us move back there and they were so happy to accommodate us that they held a unit for us, for 6 weeks (Unit # 60)...until our lease ran out in the apartment building. It was good to be back to the Guildford area (Surrey). We were here for 1 1/2 years, this time.

We were going to the same doctor, again. And, also going to a new dentist. I had trouble with a filling...the dentist had pushed down too hard to put the filling in and something made a loud "crack" in my neck. He said he heard it too...and his assistant. He had me sit in the chair until I felt better...everything was really "weird". I sat there for about 20 minutes, until I felt I could walk to the car: then I had to sit in the car for about 20 minutes, before I could drive home. My neck got more stiff through the night, and was much worse the following morning. I couldn't sleep in any position other than on my right side...and almost upright: the room would spin.

I saw our family doctor and had to wear a surgical collar for a few days; then I had to go for physiotherapy. They couldn't do the vibration on me, and I couldn't lay on my back...they tried to do it in a chair and it was too much for me. I ended up going to a chiropractor, to get my neck so that I could turn it from side to side; he had to work on my neck while I sat in a chair or leaned against the wall...I couldn't lay flat.

I was sent to a Neurologist and he found "Benign Marked Positional Vertigo"...tried three kinds of medication, over the course of many weeks. It was decided that...if they made me deaf in the bad ear (left ear), it MIGHT help; I decided against it! Dr. Tessier thought it was probably because I was a premature baby and my inner ear wasn't entirely formed...probably not because of the accident to my neck (although the neck injury might have set it off). It was something I would have to learn to live with. A few years later I went to another Neurologist, he said the same thing. (Dr. Knazan)

We were visiting churches again and not finding anything we felt comfortable with; we always seemed to measure churches against Endtime. Now, we were invited to a sing-a-long at the pastor's house...and gradually we began going to meetings again. After a year or so Joe was again an elder.

I began doing day care for a lady in Delta; she is a dental hygenist. Her husband has his own trucking company in Ladner. Their daughter, Michaella was 8 months old. She was a precious, gentle little person. My boss was an excellent person to work for.

I wasn't there long before Michaela took a tumble. I had expected her to sleep for awhile, so I went downstairs to do her laundry (I did not put the gate up). Well, Michaela didn't sleep very long and I got her up, changed her diaper and decided to take her for a walk. I put Michaela in her walker and went to the washroom. I heard this god-awful sound...and knew immediately what it was...Michaela (in the walker) was heading down the stairs!

I yelled, "Jesus!" That little one ran off the top step; leaned forward, literally flipped over (mid-air), and crashed into the wall on the side of the stairs...now Michaela straightened up in the walker and started down the stairs...right then I grabbed ahold of her clothing and held her in place. There were about 10 more steps before the cement at the bottom of the stairs. I pulled her to me, and the walker went crashing to the bottom.

She was crying, I was scarred stiff; my heart was pounding. I put her on the kitchen counter and looked her over, to see if she was alright...everything seemed to be okay. Then I gave her a bottle, took her and rocked her for awhile. I looked her over again. Then I called her Dad, who was able to come home...should there be an emergency. He came in, I told him what had happened...modifying the whole thing, in my favor. He fixed the gate, which he was supposed to reinforce much earlier, but had not taken the time to do (I didn't tell him that it wasn't closed). She seemed okay, so he went back to work.

I was never the same, after this happened...I couldn't relax at all with Michaela...always afraid something similar would happen again. I sure loved that little girl; she was like my own, and I wanted to enjoy her (like I didn't have the time to do with my own children). My nerves just got worse and worse...I told my boss and she said to try a little longer. After 4 months, I had to leave. It was none too soon, because I had a really bad anxiety attack... with almost fainting spells. I ended up in Emergency, close to a stroke. I knew it was because I had lied to the parents, to save myself; it wasn't the Christian thing to do (I was very surprised that I was capable of doing such a thing). So, I knew I had to make it right...I couldn't bring myself to call them, so I wrote a long letter. My x-boss was extremely gracious to me and sent a very kind letter back to me, along with a new picture of Michaela. I was very thankful it all ended good.


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Pen Name: Aimee Love


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