80!

 80!

Reflecting on this monumental birthday: 

Today, March 9th 2025 at 1:20PM, I turned 80 years old. It’s difficult to get these words out, no less comprehend how that happened. I’m now in the “very elderly” category. Feelings are flooding over me- I’m experiencing an avalanche of thoughts and memories.  I’m driven to write them down in an attempt to come to terms with and understand this part of my life. 

This is all new to me as I was never here before.  As a matter of fact I probably never even envisioned what life would be like at this grand old age - the golden years ( who the hell are they kidding?! ) I’m not sure of the best way to document my feelings and I’ve hesitated to start, but the only way to start is “to actually start.”Therefore, I will let my mind brainstorm and see what surfaces.

Recently I have attended several 80th birthday celebrations - one for a High School friend, one for a longtime friend and one in honor of my cousin. 

I guess you could say we’re lucky to have made it to this ripe old age, and I acknowledge that. Nonetheless, there is pain and heartache attached to this age. I’ve said goodbye to so many of the previous generations-mother, father, aunts and uncles, brother, cousins, friends, nursing school comrades. In some ways, it’s as if I have no past. I miss the phone calls from my mother and my father and my aunts, I miss the ability to seek them for wise counsel, or just a willing ear to listen to the mundane activities of an ordinary day.  And, more and more  in the presence of the younger generations, I feel superfluous. Their eyes and actions and words mirror back to me my elderly status. I’m seen as someone who needs extra help, both physically and mentally.  I appreciate the help but it also reinforces a very vivid picture of “old lady “ that is being mirrored back to me. We live in an age of rapid technological advances, and what used to require the simple turning of a knob on a small screened, boxy TV set now requires multiple remotes and an unending array of different viewing sites. I feel like I need to seek out higher education in order to watch my favorite shows.  Luckily my husband of 53 years knows how to navigate the remotes better than I can. 

It seems that I spend a great chunk of my diminishing years visiting a vast array of specialists. I have a different doctor for every part of my body. 

A Gastroenterologist for GERD(Gastro Esophageal Reflux Disease) and IBS(Irritable Bowel Syndrome) a Cardiologist for high blood pressure, and high cholesterol, an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist (ENT) for sinus issues, an Endocrinologist for Osteoporosis and Adult Onset Diabetes.  Add a Dermatologist, and an Orthodontist, Oral Surgeon, an Ophthalmologist and a Physical Therapist to the list and you can see how keeping body and soul together uses up a great deal of one’s time and energy. 

Turning 80 has a way of bringing this question to the forefront of my mind , “Will this be the last time I do this ? For example, when I’m repacking the Christmas Ornaments and placing them on their designated shelf in our basement. Or when we head off in our car for our annual trip to Florida for a month during the winter. The drive seems to get longer and longer every years even though the  actual mileage doesn’t change.  Our joints get stiffer, eyesight weaker, bathroom breaks more frequent. The amount of equipment I need simply to hold my body and soul together is becoming overwhelming- water pick, electric toothbrush, nasal wash bottles, distilled water and saline packets, heating pads, multiple medications, prescription creams and ointments, orthotics, back pillows, bed pillows for positioning myself to avoid back pain.

I guess I’ve reflected enough on turning 80 for one night and an old woman like me needs her sleep 😴 so I’ll say goodnight and reflect again another day.  Next time I’ll try to focus on the things an 80 year old can still do and enjoy 😊! 

Love ❤️ you all 

More Messages Left Behind

 

Messages Left Behind

 I found my mother’s elementary school autograph ✍️ book from June 1931 from Our Lady of Good Counsel School in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn. It was fascinating to see what people I know wrote for my Mom. I have all her siblings messages and I will include them in the next Blog Entry 

Letters concerning my Great-Grandmother

 I came across this letter while I was looking through boxes of old photos to find a photo of my grandma Elizabeth Daniel Fries, for my sister to paint. The following information was written by my mother,” this letter was written by the nurse who took care of Annie Clark O’Donnell. It appears she suffered a stroke in 1922. Gene O’Donnell Frankowski sent a copy of this letter to me. I often wondered why Brooklyn when she died. Tom, her husband, was in Saint Joseph’s Pennsylvania. Annie died on May 29, 1923 and was taken up to Saint Joseph where she is buried.”

This is the nurse’s letter: 

Saint Joseph’s Pennsylvania, August 3, 1922

Mr. John O’Donnell, Brooklyn, New York 

My dear Mr. O’Donnell, 

Ros has asked me to write to you and your brothers in regard to your mother‘s condition, and of some changes which we all feel must be made. When I came here last Tuesday, I felt sure there must have been a change in your mother‘s condition since the doctor had seen her, so I wrote and asked him to come up here he had said he saw no reason why she would not get up and about again, but when he came today, he found a decided change, indicating some trouble in the head and he does not think it likely she will be much better, although there is probably so far as he can see no immediate danger.

There seems to be a lack of coordination between her mind and her muscles. If her head and eyes are pointed one way feet turn in some other direction. The right arm is practically helpless, and she is not able to feed herself. As if she tries to put anything into her mouth with the left hand, she either drops it or tries to stick it in her ear. Sometimes she does better than others, but I am afraid she is gradually becoming more helpless. Well so much for her condition it is difficult to explain it to you now the next thing is what is best to be done. It is a long way from everything out. There is no woman in the family who can be with her and besides, it is too much for one person to care for her and the household.. She will have to have care and it is simply impossible to get a practical nurse here about and a professional professional nurse is too expensive a proposition, except as it is might be necessary for a short time. Ros says there is a hospital near you and the doctor thinks as do we all everything considered that it will be best to take her to New York and put her in a semi-private ward for a time where she can have care and be under the doctors eye and if she does improve, Ros can take her home with her where she can be with her children. This strain is a good deal on your father. Rose had the best can only stay a few weeks and there, you will be no better off than you are now. This is what we have planned. I have had a good deal of experience in such madness and know it can be safely and satisfactory done. Put her in and Auto here and take her to Binghamton. Right before hand and have a wheelchair in Reed– take her out of the car and wheel her over to the Pullman have a drawing room reserved carry her in the carry her into the drawing room and put her to bed. When she gets to Hoboken, you meet her with the car, the conductor will have provided a wheelchair and a port over to car and you can take her to the hospital. This is by far the easiest way for her and cheapest for you. see this way, not be necessary for you to come up here, thereby losing time from your work and expense of travel. I will get her safely on the train and Ros will be all right until you meet her. Of any if anything should go wrong, I can go out to New York with her, but there is no probability of that. We think it will be best for her for me to stay with her until she can be gotten ready to go, but the expense of a trained nurse is not necessary so we want to get her started soon as possible Rose says Thursday, August 10 will be a good day for all, and give us plenty of time so we will leave it that way unless we hear something to the contrary from you that will give you time to make arrangements to meet the train. We will let you know all about any further developments at once. to Tom O’Connell, we can get any word that way. Sooner all the plans are made at this end providing it is all right with you. There will probably not be room in the car for the boys from Hoboken over to Brooklyn so Ros says to be sure and make some arrangements for them. She will finish this letter now. I know you will be worried and grieved but things are so I tell you and one has to make the best of it – and manage the easiest way. She said to me this morning thank God I’ve three good sons. I shall be glad when she is safely settled near you – there is certainly no one dependable here. To do for her and she is miles away from a doctor and everything else. Sincerely, Julia Colby ( not sure of the spelling of this nurse’s name but I find her impressive and organized). 

There is also a short letter from John O’Donnell’s wife, Rose. John O’Donnell is Annie Clark O’Donnell’s oldest son. All three sons live in the NYC area at this point- John, Frank and TJ O’Donnell all left the farm to become NYC Police Officers.

Here is Rose O’Donnell’s note to her husband John: 

Dear John ,

Dr. Gardner thinks this is just the thing to do and the nurse says it can’t be done any too soon to make all arrangements. If if you do not care to put her in the hospital, why not fix up a bed in the front room for her. I think the best would be to get a single bed.

Pop is kind of poor just now guess he is very much worried and he said he would be very glad to have Ma in the hospital for that is the best as he cannot get anyone here to help him.

Rose 

The Baby was allowed to die

 The Baby was allowed to Die

Today, December 11, has always been a rather sad day for me. On the date in 1956 my youngest brother,Joseph O’Donnell Fries, was left to die. He wasn’t left to die because his family didn’t want him rather they wanted him so very much. This 11 year old girl, Mary Beth Fries, wanted him more than words can express.  Just two and a half years prior, on June 25, 1954, my parents gifted me with one of the greatest gifts of my lifetime, a baby sister that they named Margaret Mary.  At the age of 9 years and 3 months I was given relatively free rein in caring for this much anticipated arrival.  I was thrilled and I loved every aspect of this new and exciting role. I attribute my desire to become a Pediatric nurse to this early life experience.  Thus, when just two years later, I was informed that in December I would have this opportunity to care for another real live baby, I was delighted! 

Early in my Mom’s pregnancy, it was discovered that I had the German Measles. As you may know this is typically a rather mild disease with a bit of a rash as the predominant symptom. The day my rash blossomed I was at my grandparents house, and my Aunt who was visiting there suggested I come to stay with her for the duration of my illness.  I remember not wanting to leave my mother and putting up a bit of a stink.  My Mom put her arm around me and said, “ No, it’s fine, she can stay home.”   

Our Family Physician, Dr. William Carrington, gave my Mom an injection of Gamma Globulin to ward off the German Measles infection. My Mother never exhibited any symptoms of the disease, nonetheless, it is known to be highly problematic if it is contracted in the first trimester of pregnancy as it can cause serious complications in the developing fetus.  As a matter of fact, back in 1955-56 young girls were actually being purposely exposed to known cases of German Measles infection in order to contract the virus and develop immunity prior to their child birthing years. 

As my mother’s pregnancy progressed she developed a condition known as polyhydramnios ( excessive amniotic fluid during pregnancy ). My mother became so huge that complete strangers would pull my father over to the side and discreetly express their concern. 🙁

December 11, 1956 was a school day ( a Tuesday )and I believe I attended school that day. I knew my mother’s abdomen was very large but I was kept in the dark regarding what this condition might signify.  What I remember about that day was being in my dining room when the phone rang. I picked up the phone and remember that my mother’s friend, Mary Kent, was on the other end. She said she was bringing over a pie and was sorry to hear about the baby.  I can’t begin to explain the horrible pain I experienced in the space of that quick little phone call. I don’t remember questioning her about what she meant, because deep down I knew.  But I do remember feeling so horrendously angry that Mary Kent thought that bringing us a pie was going to help in any way to relieve such overwhelming grief.  I never even thought that my dearly beloved mother could have been in any type of trouble; that reality was so terribly horrible that I never even allowed it to enter my mind. 

I’m not sure when or how I learned the story of what happened that day.  One thing that this experience taught me is to never underestimate the capabilities of a child, especially one who is eleven year old one. 

Apparently the delivery was a tough one, although a caesarean section was not performed.  Our family physician was a good one and I believe he did his best.  My Dad was the only family member who ever laid eyes on my little brother.  Until her dying day, I believe my mother regrets that she was not given the opportunity to hold and see the baby she carried beneath her heart for 9 months. My understanding is that my father, always an overprotective man, thought it was for the best to shield my mother and the rest of his family from too much involvement in this sadness. 

My father said the baby’s face was beautiful and that he looked a lot like my older brother, Charlie, Jr. He was full term and, if I remember correctly, he weighed 8 lbs or so.  Immediately it was evident that my brother had serious problems in his midsection.  The abdominal organs were in a sac on the outside of his body ( the medical term for this condition is an omphalocele ). As soon as he realized that this defect existed, Dr Carrington called a Pediatric Gastroenterologist into the hospital to do an evaluation and prepare my baby brother for a surgical repair. Before this surgery could be arranged, it was discovered that the omphalocele was not the only problem.  Their baby was discovered to have a heart defect and in 1956, surgical repair was not yet an option . My father called a Catholic Priest to come to the hospital (Midwood Hospital in Brooklyn)to baptize his son. My parents had decided during the pregnancy that if their child was a boy he was going to be named Joseph O’Donnell Fries after my mother’s brother, Joseph O’Donnell, who had been killed in action on Heartbreak Ridge in Korea on October 13, 1951. 

There was nothing left to do but allow the baby to die. My father said little Joseph lived for 3 hours.  Sadly and regretfully, he did not die in my mother’s arms. I’m not even sure if my father ever held him either.  I know he saw him and was at his burial although my mother and us kids were not. 

I was totally and completely heartbroken by his death 💔 and have always wondered if my German Measles or my failure to go to my Aunts house was the reason my baby brother died.   Eventually I realized I was lucky my mother survived this difficult pregnancy and traumatic birth and heart break. 

I’ve missed this baby brother and needless to say December 11th is a sad day. 

Who is Trump?

Some family members and friends want me to give specific examples of why I believe Donald Trump is NOT the right person to lead our country forward but when I do that they cry “ Fake News” or accuse me of listening to certain news channels that they don’t approve of and don’t believe. I pride myself on giving people the benefit of the doubt and on judging others on my own personal experiences with the individual in question. For example, if I hear from someone that a certain teacher is a “ lousy” teacher, I try my best not to let their opinion sway me. I’d rather see for myself before forming an opinion. In 2016 when Trump was running for President, I happened to stop in to my neighbors’ garage sale and I noticed a cardboard box filled with comic books and a few paperbacks. My neighbor said she was bringing them to the Salvation Army since the sale was almost over and they hadn’t sold. She told me to take anything I wanted “ free of charge “ since it would make the box easier for her to transport. There were a couple of Calvin and Hobbs comics and lo and behold a few paperbacks written by Donald J. Trump. I wasn’t a fan but I thought possibly reading a couple of his books might help me to see him in a different light. The philosophy expressed in these poorly written books was enough to turn my stomach. In a nutshell (no pun intended) his life’s philosophy and the strategies he recommended for getting gluttonously Rich was basically “ screw your neighbor” if you need to in order to achieve your goal. One of his books is actually entitled, “Think Big and Kick Ass”! I have also listened to the words out of Donald Trump’s own mouth and observed how he treats other human beings and quickly came to realize his values and behavior is totally unacceptable. I don’t hate him and I was NOT gleeful or happy that a deranged young man attempted to assassinate him. But, I believe that Donald Trump, himself, has serious mental issues and is not Presidential material. If you want examples, I can provide them, but I feel that doing so will not change your opinion about this man. It appears that his followers are so truly indoctrinated by his lies and some sort of weird power he seems to hold over them that I would be wasting my own valuable time. Even he said, “ I could shoot someone and not loose voters”. Who would want to support a person who would say such a thing?

“ As Before “ by Pat Maloney Judge

Pat Maloney Judge, SVH Class of 1957 The following is the writings of a “newfound Friend”, i.e., a St. Vincent’s Hospital School of Nursing, Greenwich Village, NYC Registered Nurse, Pat Maloney Judge ( Class of 1957 ) who currently resides at Aaron Manor Nursing and Rehab in Chester, Ct.