The Taj Mahal

Tomorrow, I was supposed to be leaving for India.  It is a country that I have grown to love.  Over the last fifteen years of cruising with Royal Caribbean, I have made so many friends among the crew, from various parts of that country, that I am affectionately known by many, as their "American mother."  

I met Ode Santos, a bartender in the Champagne Bar, on the Monarch of the Seas, shortly after I boarded in San Juan, Puerto Rico for my first cruise with Royal Caribbean.  He quickly became a dear friend and, less than two years later, I spent ten days as a guest at his home in Mumbai.  I was treated like a visiting dignitary by everyone in his family - and by other crew members who were home on vacation while I was there.  The highlight of the trip was a journey to Agra with his mother where we visited the Taj Mahal, a place I had dreamed about but never thought I would actually see.  It was an incredible experience.

Since that time, my Indian "family" has grown to huge numbers and I have been promising to return, hoarding frequent flyer miles to make the trip.  I have tried, on several occasions, to schedule a flight but seats were unavailable.  Finally, I found three weeks from November 15 until December 10th and I eagerly scheduled my trip.  Unfortunately, my mother's failing health necessitated a change in my plans.  With the three weeks I just spent in Georgia and the financial strain that imposed, plus the lack of time to prepare for the trip and arrange my visa, yesterday, I had the airline replace the frequent flyer miles in my account ( at the cost of $100! ).  
I was in tears as I spoke to the KLM agent.  I have to write to all my Indian friends today.  I was going to many places throughout the country, staying at people's home during my entire stay.  

I pray that I will still make the trip in the future.  What was so nice about these dates is that many of my crew friends were going to be on vacation at this time, making it even more wonderful for me.  Also, the annual release date for "The Eternity Magazine," a beautiful publication that is a forum for writers and poets globally, focusing on spirituality, peace, and the environment, is to be released in Mumbai this month.  Its editor, Harekrushna Mahanta, had planned for me to be there as a visiting guest poet from the United States., along with a Mumbai film director for media coverage of the event.  It would have been such an honor.


I've written two poems about India.  One I'll post today, called, "The Taj Mahal."  I wish I could find the beautiful professional pictures that were taken there.  I have searched so many times for them.  They have never turned up although I know I brought them home with me.  I cannot even put into words my feelings when I first saw the beauty of this incredible place!

The Taj Mahal

Agra, India

( photo courtesy of weforanimals.com )

The Taj Mahal

An architectural treasure,
A tribute to true love,
It almost seems to glow,
From a full moon above.

Made of pure white marble,
Mumtaz Mahal lies here,
With Emperor Shah Jahan,
Resting very near.

Such overwhelming beauty,
Reflected in its pool.
Its minarets standing guard,
Over India's treasured jewel.

Built on the River Yumana, 

The Taj is an exquisite sight,
Symbolic of love for centuries,
Inspiring poets to write.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright (c) 2008 by Carmen Henesy
All rights reserved. 

 

The Forensic Nurse

Today is the last day of the first "Forensic Nurse Week" ever. It will take place annually the second week of November. This is very exciting for all of us in the profession. When I began working in the field in July of 1987, we were not even officially recognized as a specialty in nursing!

Many people are completely unaware of forensic nursing. Just what is it? I will share with you this definition directly from my organization, the International Association of Forensic Nurses, of which I was a founding member ( www.iafn.org ):

"Forensic Nursing is the application of nursing science to public or legal proceedings; the application of the forensic aspects of health care combined with the bio-psycho-social education of the registered nurse in the scientific investigation and treatment of trauma and/or death of victims and perpetrators of abuse, violence, criminal activity and traumatic accidents.

The forensic nurse provides direct services to individual clients, consultation services to nursing, medical and law related agencies, and expert court testimony in areas dealing with trauma and/or questioned death investigative processes, adequacy of services delivery, and specialized diagnoses of specific conditions as related to nursing."

Also, the International Association of Forensic Nurses has listed the various areas in which forensic nurses work:

Interpersonal Violence Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault Child & Elder Abuse/Neglect Physiological/Psychological Abuse Occult/Religious Human Trafficking Forensic Mental Health Correctional Nursing Legal Nurse Consulting Emergency/Trauma Services Automobile and Pedestrian Accidents Traumatic Injuries Suicide Attempts Work-Related Injuries Near-Fatal Trauma Disasters

Patient Care Facility Issues Accidents/Injuries/Neglect Inappropriate Treatments/Medication Administration Public Health and Safety Environmental Hazards Drug/Alcohol Abuse Food and Drug Tampering Illegal Abortion Practices Epidemiological Issues Anatomical Gifts (Tissue/Organ Donation) Death Investigation Homicides/Suicides Suspicious/Accidental Deaths Mass Disasters

I came into the field as the result of an accident. I had previously worked in psychiatry, both adult and child, or the operating room, alternating between the two. After a fall in the OR, which resulted from slipping on hydraulic fluid that had leaked from an orthopedic table, which ultimately resulted in my having extensive back surgery and being disabled for a year and a half, my surgeon felt it would be unsafe for me to resume OR duties or to work in psychiatry. The Child and Adolescent Sexual Abuse Resource Center was advertising for an on call RN to cover cases and I applied. The rest is history.

When the city decided to train nurses to do adult sexual abuse exams, which was a half time position with benefits, I applied and was hired there, also retaining my on call work for CASARC. I found the work very exciting and exacting and my colleagues in the profession were always willing to help, in any way possible.

While there were programs of sexual assault nurse examiners in the U. S. since 1976, it was not until 1992 that 72 nurses met in Minneapolis, MN, called together by Linda E. Ledray, RN, Ph.D., SANE-A, FAAN, Director, SANE-SART Resource Service, MMRF, Minneapolis, Minnesota. It is the only time in my life that I was in the right place at the right time.

We spent two days, and long into the night, deciding on our name, our goals, and talked about our dreams. I recall, fondly, staying up almost until dawn, in the University of Minnesota dorm, with the pioneers in forensic nursing, such as Ann Burgess, Virginia Lynch, and Pat Speck and many more - 72 of us. We agreed to hold an annual scientific assembly and set a date for our next meeting, to be held in my own home state of California.

Just a few years later, the American Nurses Association recognized forensic nursing as an official specialty and, not long after, our newly established forensic nursing certification board offered the first specialty exam for adult sexual assault nurse examiner certification. I very anxiously sat for that exam and proudly was able to write SANE-A, after the RN following my name.

At our scientific assembly in 1996, when our founding president, Virginia Lynch, handed over the gavel, I read a poem, "The Forensic Nurse" that I had written to honor her and all of my colleagues inf our International Association of Forensic Nurses. This specialty and that membership in IAFN has been the most wonderful aspect of my nursing career. It has defined me as a nurse professional and I feel I have done the most good in this specialty for an often overlooked population. I would encourage all nurses to consider forensic nursing as their area of specialization

On this last day of our first ever Forensic Nurse Week, I want to say thank you to so many. I won't and can't name you all personally but you know who you are - my wonderful colleagues and mentors, friends and fellow forensic nurses who have been there for me, every step of the way for my entire twenty-two years in the field. I am blessed to have had you in my life. I thank God daily for putting me in the right place at the right time! May you all continue in the work with great blessings.

The Forensic Nurse

At the dawn of a new millennium, there has evolved a need,
For a new group of nurse professionals, a pioneering breed,
On the cutting edge of nursing, to fight crime's vicious curse,

Health care responds to violence, in the role of forensic nurse.

The tasks are many and varied, each sharing a common thread,

A search for truth and justice as this specialty forges ahead.

Fighting interpersonal violence, making note of multiple clues,
Learning to hear the unspoken, recognizing the tiniest bruise.

A commingling of nursing science, forensic science and the law,
From this vast wealth of knowledge, the forensic nurse must draw,
From sociology, and psychology, criminology and fields diverse,
An arsenal of such education, arms the forensic nurse.

Easing the trauma of rape, responding to a criminal scene,
Compassionate notification of kin, judging nothing as routine,
Dealing with drug and alcohol abuse, calling for a hearse,
Providing care for inmates, these are roles of the forensic nurse.

Facilitating organ donation, expert witness testimony in court,
Investigating work place injuries, writing a medicolgeal report,
Assisting in forensic research, providing specialized quality care,
Educating and consulting with colleagues, making the public aware.

From birth to death, and far beyond, there is a difference made,
By nurses who have undertaken to embrace a new crusade,
In the fight against crime and violence, helping in its reverse,
Is the commitment and dedication of the forensic nurse.

Carmen Henesy

Dedicated to founding president, Virginia Lynch, 

and my colleagues 

of the 

International Association of Forensic Nurses

Copyright (c) 1996 by Carmen Henesy
All rights reserved. 

Clothes

It was a very long and tedious journey back to San Francisco.  I said goodbye to my mother about 5:15PM yesterday and drove to my friend, Luther's, home to drop off the truck he had so generously lent me during my stay in Columbus ( he and Beth are off on a New York holiday.  There, I said farewell to his lovely daughter, Jennifer, who had given me a second outstanding massage on Tuesday, and made my way to the Muscogee County Municipal Airport, compliments of Tommy Wommack, friend of the Stanton's ( who has become my friend in the past week  - he may not feel that way anymore after lugging my immensely heavy suitcases! ).  My hometown airport was almost deserted - no police officers shooing you away from the front curb, hardly any passengers milling about and, certainly, no skycaps to assist with luggage.  Dear Tommy, ever the hero, hoisted those bags yet again!  After an hour's wait on the tarmac, we finally set off into heavy thunderclouds for the short flight to Atlanta.  I made my next connection with ease, to a full flight, where I was smashed against the window in a three seat row with a sweet baby who cried intermittently.  I am an aisle person so I was miserable being hemmed in.  But, at long last, the trip ended and my oldest son, Shawn, nobly came to SFO to fetch his mom.


I still have some final photos of Columbus to post and the long overdue Europe birthday pictures  which now seems an eternity ago.


In the meantime, here's one of my favorite poems.

Clothes

I'm a girl of big proportions,
So I hate to shop at all,
The clothes they make to fit me,
Are the worst things in the mall.

In my youth, I was much different,
Slim and quite the girl,
I wore the cutest outfits,
Which gave the guys a whirl!

Now I look for baggy clothes,
That hide my ample frame,
I can't wear stylish outfits,
So i hang my head in shame.

I look at sexy lingerie,
And think of way back when,
When Victoria had no secret,
I was really thin.

My sons encourage exercise,
And tell me not to eat,
They say that if I listen,
One day I'll see my feet!

Now I shop for earrings,
Since whether thin or fat,
They will always fit me,
Thank my lucky stars for that

Carmen Henesy 


Copyright © 2008 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved

Rest in Peace

Today is Veteran's Day in the United States.  I am an Army "brat."  My father was a second lieutenant at Ft. Benning, Georgia when he met my mother.  They divorced many years later and my mother remarried.  When my stepfather retired, he was a full colonel in the Infantry and had served three tours of duty in VietNam.  My son, Shawn, is an Air Force reservist for fifteen years now.  He repairs computer systems for the C5 and C15 aircraft.  

My prayer is for world peace.  I would hope that none of my three sons ever has to be involved in a war and that no mother ever loses a son or daughter to conflict anywhere in the world.  Why can't we learn to negotiate and settle our problems in a civilized manner?  Why don't we teach our children, from their earliest years, better ways of handling conflict?  As a nurse, I look at those sweet babies in the newborn nursery, lying there next to each other, without a shred of hatred or animosity in their minds and ask myself, why can't it always be that way?  

The following is not a happy poem.  It is an all too cold reality that takes place every day.  I am posting it on this Veteran's Day with my prayers for every single person who has lost their life in service to this country and for all the families who have suffered and continue to suffer without their loved ones.  

Rest in Peace

He was such a precious child,
Fair haired with eyes of blue,
Always into everything,
With laughter bubbling through.

Everybody loved him,
He just had that special way,
Of making it seem sunny,
On a cloudy, rainy day.

He'd always help another,
When things would go awry,
So all of us were saddened,
The day he said goodbye.

His unit reached Iraq,
And was only there a week,
When his mother got the news,
Of which she couldn't speak.

A roadside bomb exploded,
He lay in a pool of red,
His blood slowly oozing,
A paramedic pronounced him dead.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright © 2007 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved

Interracial Friendships

Friendships are color blind - for what color has a soul? That is what true friendship is to me. The sharing of two souls, forget the color of the skin that houses them! Friends embrace, support, laugh and cry together, they know when to speak up, when it is best to sit quietly and listen. It matters not whether our friends live in a villa atop some scenic hillside in Tuscany, in a ghetto fourth floor apartment in Harlem, or are seeking tranquility at an ashram in India. Ethnicity and skin color, gender, education or income are not indicators or prerequisites for friendship and should not be determinants for those who fulfill this role in our lives.

We bring into a friendship the experiences that shape us, our cultural backgrounds, the tidbits of wisdom from our family patriarchs and matriarchs. For some, there are rare opportunities to make friends with others outside our immediate social cirlce. We spend our entire lives never going beyond these boundaries and extending the bonds of friendship to those of another race.

Others are blessed to explore the world beyond their immediate spheres and, in so doing, make friends of other races. In areas of mutliple ethnicities, this is so easy. Children are born without prejudices and, unless they learn it from the adults around them, they play happily side by side, begin school together, and grow up sharing customs, holidays, foods, and friendships.

The world of the internet has been instrumental in initiating many interracial and international friendships. For some, it is difficult to get out in their communities and online communication has been a wonderful medium for sharing lives and battling loneliness.  It has been the stimulus for inspiring people to learn more about cultures different from their own and eliminating some of the anxiety one might feel about the unknown. Staying in touch with friends has become easier, from any part of the world.

I strongly believe in that old adage, "To have a friend, be a friend." Sometimes that means taking a risk, giving more than fifty percent. Over a lifetime, friends come and go as our needs and interests change. A true friend, however, is one that is there forever and a treasure to cherish and love, from the inside out. I relate to the heart of the person, not to the color of their skin. That being said, I cherish many hearts that are housed in ethnicities of the world.

Mondays

I wrote this poem awhile back, on a particularly painful Monday.  Now that I am retired, Mondays are not as bad as they once were.  Of course, as a forensic nurse, working around the clock 24/7, and being constantly on call, every day was the same, really.

 

MONDAYS

Once again, Monday dawns,

It got here, oh so fast!

Why is it that weekends,

Never seem to last?

I left work Friday evening,

Full of joy and glee,

Filled with plans and lists,

Of things to do for me!

I did sleep late on Saturday,

And gave the dog a run,

And started out to do my list,

But had barely just begun

.

Torrential downpours started,

So I couldn't wash the car,

I did drive to the beach,

But had to picnic in my car!

Sunday was just as dreary,

So I washed a load of clothes,

And spent my afternoon,

Watching t.v. shows.

As I rush to dress for work,

I've got the Monday blues,

All I want to do,

Is go back to bed and snooze.

Five more days ahead of me,

Till Friday's here once more,

Hopefully, next weekend,

Will have more fun in store!

Carmen Henesy

                                          Copyright © 2008 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved

My Last Few Evenings in Columbus, Georgia

I really haven't spent much of my life in Columbus, Georgia.  I was born here, at Bush Hospital, which no longer exists.  When I was nearly five, we went on a troop ship ( my father was an Infantry officer ), to Europe where my father was stationed briefly in Frankfurt, Germany, then in Salzburg, Austria.  My brother, Charley, made his debut there.  On our return, we lived at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina before returning to Columbus, GA.  For my first year of high school, I went to boarding school at Sacred Heart Academy in Cullman, Alabama, then came home to finish the rest of my high school years at Columbus High.  From there, I attended Charity Hospital and Mercy Hospital in New Orleans, coming home only for brief vacations.  

Columbus is home to Ft. Benning, a huge infantry and airborne training center for the U. S. Army.  Columbus is across the Chattahoochee River from Phenix City, Alabama which, during the 1940's and 1950's, had the reputation as being a haven for gambling, prostitution and organized crime.  I attended parochial school in Phenix City from the 3rd to the 8th grade.  It seemed to be a pretty quiet place then.

In fact, during my high school years, I didn't recall too many exciting places for us to dine out.  I don't view Columbus as the center for gourmet eating.  Perhaps living in the San Francisco area for the past thirty or so years has skewed my perspective!  However, for the last three nights, I've been out with my friends, Beth and Luther Stanton, and a few others, and have had an absolutely delightful time,  After fixing dinner for my mother and getting her settled, I've spent each evening, reminiscing, laughing and enjoying good food, reasonably priced.

Thursday night, we went to Rose Hill Seafood Company.  This place has been around over thirty years and specializes in all kinds of fresh seafood, fried and grilled, and also sells seafood to the public.  They also have an oyster bar.  It is a huge place that accommodates large parties and, the night we were there, a group of forty, were celebrating something in a corner of the room.  The waitresses have been there forever and seem to know everybody.

I got to have my whole catfish which you can easily eat right off the bone, leaving a complete catfish skeleton.  Of course, I polished off TWO dozen raw oysters first, at only $6.95 a dozen.  In San Francisco, you pay three times that for Gulf oysters!  Their hushpuppies and cole slaw aren't as good as at Ezell's but everything else is better - and Ezell's doesn't have raw oysters!

This picture is a little overexposed but you get the idea.  Also, the oysters were a bit small.  Sometimes, I've had giant oysters.  I love them with chili sauce, lots of horseradish and lemon and I never bother with crackers. 

 

 Beth and Luther Stanton - my wonderful friends!

Luther has been crazy for fifty years -  why I would expect him to act any different now!

Fried whole catfish

Another view of the catfish and the small serving of cole slaw - at Ezell's, they bring you all the slaw and hushpuppies you want!  I love eating the crispy catfish tails!

 

 Tommy & Dale Wommack

  Janice & Henry Snyder

 Carmen Henesy & Phil Mather

Friday night, we headed into downtown Columbus.  I was amazed at all the restoration that had been done to this old mill town!  Columbus, with an estimated population of over 280,000 is the 3rd largest city in the state and the 120th largest city in the United States.  It was founded in 1828 and was named after Christopher Columbus.  Until their removal in 1836, this was the home of Creek Indians.

The Chattahoochee River connected Columbus to the world, in its early days, as a means of shipping cotton to New Orleans where it was then sent on to Liverpool, England.  Textile mills sprung up all along the river.  

During the Civil War, Columbus became important because of its ironworks and shipyard but it saw battle only AFTER the war ended when a union general attacked and burned many of the industrial building.  He was unaware a treaty had been signed.

Today, many of the mills are being turned into beautiful loft condominiums and the historic areas are being revitalized, giving the city new life.

Our dining choice Friday was at Mario's on Broadway in the restored downtown section of Columbus.  Twenty-five years ago, I wouldn't have gone down there if my life had depended on it

( and it might have! ).  The restaurant, classified as Mediterranean, is at the top of a long flight of narrow stairs ( no elevator - thankfully, there is a handrail on either side ) and opens into a cavernous room with a dance floor, a bar and a few tables.  It was practically empty which I thought seemed strange for a Friday night, especially since the place is relatively close to Ft. Benning.  I understand that, occasionally there is a belly dancer but none was performing that night.  With my ample belly, I thought I might earn a few dollars but, with the restaurant empty and my friends booing the idea, I decided to order the wine instead. There were no Greek or Mediterranean wines, just some rot gut CA choices and a passable Australian shiraz for $25 which I chose.  We picked spanakopita, hummus and baba ganoush for appetizers which came with pita bread - and all were absolutely delicious.  My friend, Beth, who knew Syliva, the cook, had talked with her earlier and got the scoop that the lamb shanks were especially good.  Beth and I ordered those and another friend had the lamb shisk kebab, both excellent and very tasty

choices.  Someone else has "really good" falafel.  

All in all, it was a very nice evening.  We laughed and carried on to our heart's content since it was basically "our" place!

 

Luther Stanton, Carmen Henesy and our Aussie Shiraz

 

Luther Stanton, Phil Mather and Tommy Wommack

Lamb Shank and very good rice pilaf

 Linda Kestner, Beth Stanton, Dale Wommack

After dinner, we stopped at Beth and Luther's for a quick hello to Lucy who had been waiting patiently.  Luther tried to engage her in a howling contest but Lucy just wanted to cuddle and wasn't performing.  Luther did, however.

 

 

 Lucy is just happy to be cuddled.

Our Saturday night outing was to a Chinese buffet at the Hong Kong Restaurant, a place where Beth and Luther have eaten several times.  They usually ignore all the other offerings and concentrate on the Alaskan king crab legs.  Another Columbus High classmate, Gloria Dodds, met us there with our senior yearbook tucked under her arm.  We were so busy looking at that for the first hour, we didn't even think about food.  Sadly, a great number of our classmates have already died.  I honestly remember so few of them but it does make me sad that our numbers are dwindling.  Our sweet young waitress, from China, got such a kick at seeing the pictures of our youth, especially Luther, who was "most handsome" in our class.  She brought all the other waitresses to point out our before pictures to them.  When we told them those pictures were made 47 years prior, I'm sure they thought we were going to croak at the table!  When I realized how many crab legs we consumed, it wouldn't have surprised me, either.

 Beth Stanton, round 1

 Carmen Henesy & Gloria Dodds

 Beef & mushrooms - I really LOVE mushrooms so I ate about a hundred from various dishes

 Beth & Luther Stanton & Carmen Henesy

 

Luther Stanton, Most Handsome, Class of 1962, Columbus High School, Columbus, GA

 

Carmen Henesy, Class of 1962, Columbus High School, Columbus, GA

( I could not get this in focus...when I get home next week, I'll have to try again )

I have never had so much fun during my visits home.  Often, Beth and Luther are away when I am in town or I am only here for a long weekend and our schedules don't mesh.  It has been so wonderful being able to spend so much time with them and reconnecting with Gloria Dodds and hanging out with the Wommacks who are now my friends, as well - even though they went to the wrong high school ( we forgive them for that ). 

GO BLUE DEVILS!

Leaves

Many of the blogs I've seen lately are filled with beautiful pictures of the changing leaves, some hanging on valiantly as winds tug in their efforts to tear them from their lofty perches.  Winter will soon be here and the bare branches will await their spring rebirth.  This is a poem I wrote about the leaves.

Leaves

A season of such beauty,
Nature's artistry unfolds,
The foliage all around us,
Reds, crimsons, even golds.

The air is fresh and crisp,
Winter snow hovers near,
Autumn leaves in brilliant beauty,
Add their notes of festive cheer.

A vibrant canopy of leaves,
Offers shelter from the sun,
Until a rising evening breeze,
Sends them flying, one by one.

By morning and the falling rain,
The lovely leaves are no more,
They have fallen from the trees,
And lay on the forest floor.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright © 2007 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved