For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
HOSPITAL'S OVERSIGHT NEARLY CANCELS ORGAN DONOR'S WISH
DEAR ABBY: My loving, vibrant 68-year-old mother suffered a massive stroke in January. When the doctor told us there was nothing they could do, we told him and the emergency room staff that she wanted to be an organ donor. When Mother was alive, she frequently stressed how much it would mean to her to help others in this way.
As Mother lingered in a coma in the intensive care unit, her nurse called us, suggesting we return to the hospital to say our final goodbyes. Her blood pressure was falling quickly and death could be imminent.
When we arrived, I asked the attending nurse how the organ donation process works. He stared at me blankly and was surprised to hear Mother was an organ donor. They immediately started administering medication to sustain her organs.
I'm grateful I spoke up before she passed away and her organs were no longer viable.
Thankfully, five people benefited from her liver, corneas and kidneys. Her heart and lungs are being used for medical studies.
The local organ bank told me that this is a common oversight in hospitals, and one they are trying hard to remedy with hospital staff members.
I hope others learn from my experience and make sure that organ donation is carried out for their loved ones. It takes more than just checking the organ donor box on your driver's license to ensure the gift of life to others. -- KERRY ZICKERT, CLARENDON HILLS, ILL.
DEAR KERRY: Thank you for an important letter and for wanting to alert families of prospective organ donors about your experience. Although the number of potential organ donors remains about the same, the demand for organs continues to grow.
It's a tragedy when organs, which can mean the difference between life and death, are lost because of a lack of communication between families and health-care professionals.
DEAR ABBY: My husband, "Arthur," and I have been married 3 1/2 years and have a 1-year-old daughter.
My problem may seem minor, but it is extremely frustrating. Every night after dinner, Arthur lies down on the couch to watch television. He then falls asleep. About 2 or 3 a.m., he comes upstairs and crawls into bed with me. Abby, we never cuddle or fall asleep together. I'm very hurt that we don't spend any time alone at the end of the day like most married couples.
I have discussed my feelings with Arthur many times. He understands that it upsets me but says he can't go to bed as early as I do. He says he really enjoys watching TV and the "dozing off" feeling is relaxing for him. I'm at the point of wanting to lock him out of the bedroom so he can watch TV and sleep on the couch all night. What do you advise? -- SLEEPING ALONE IN MINNESOTA
DEAR SLEEPING ALONE: Buy a small television set for the bedroom, with earphones for Arthur. Get yourself some earplugs and a sleep mask, if necessary. Then Arthur can enjoy dozing off in front of the TV, and you will have him in bed next to you.
If he objects to this solution, television may not be the only problem in your marriage. Consider counseling.
MOTHER FEELS SHARP TEETH OF HER THANKLESS DAUGHTERS
DEAR ABBY: I am the mother of three children, all over 40. I am 76.
Five years ago, I lost my only son; a year later my husband passed away (both of heart disease). Since their deaths, my daughters have taken a hard and bitter attitude toward me. There was never an offer of help to ease my grief, nor has there been any interest in anything except what I can do for them.
I have watched their children, paid dental bills and made mortgage payments, but there seems to be no feeling of warmth or consideration for me at any time. They scream at me for the least thing. Their visits are brief or none at all. They say they will come to visit me, and they don't show.
I took care of their ailing father for 20 years, with no offer of help from them. Are today's children a different breed from those of us who were taught to honor our parents?
Please don't suggest consulting my minister. I am ashamed to let him know the way my children treat me. I have shed many tears and lost countless hours of sleep fretting and praying about this. Please don't use my name or town for obvious reasons. -- UNWILLING OUTCAST
DEAR OUTCAST: Please stop trying to understand your children; concentrate on taking care of yourself instead. Find friends with whom you can share your pain. Talk to your minister; he will not judge you (clergy of all faiths hear many family secrets) and can help you find solace. Then look for a family who needs a grandmother and "adopt" them. They'll be glad to have you, and you'll be glad you did.
DEAR ABBY: I do volunteer work at the Humane Society to help out with the animals that people have "thrown away." It breaks my heart to see the stream of wonderful, gentle, well-mannered, loving animals that are dropped here because maybe they're not convenient anymore to their owners -- or for whatever reason a person could abandon one who loves them so much.
You frequently remind people to give stuffed animals as gifts rather than living animals, unless they are absolutely certain that the owners will properly care for them. And you also say that "Living creatures are not 'toys' to be mauled, abused or neglected." Hurray for you! People need to be reminded that pets of any sort are feeling creatures and very dependent. They require planning and a long-term commitment even before one decides to bring them home.
Abby, a million thanks for speaking out for those who cannot speak. -- JULIE SENDROWSKI, AVON, COLO.
DEAR JULIE: And a million thanks to you for your heartfelt reminder to any well-meaning reader who may be considering a living creature as a gift.
DEAR ABBY: Recently a child in my husband's family was to undergo surgery. The child's mother asked all of the family members to donate blood. This child has A positive blood, and everyone in my husband's family except him also has A positive blood. My husband's blood type is O positive.
Abby, I am convinced that the people he knows as his parents are not his biological parents. My husband will not mention this to them unless someone more knowledgeable than I tells him it's unlikely that these two people are his parents. I feel it is his right to know who his parents are.
Do you think that the people he believes are his parents actually are? Or do you feel that he should confront them and ask for a DNA test? -- NAMELESS IN ARIZONA
DEAR NAMELESS: Your husband's parents are not hiding anything from him. I checked with Jeffrey Morris, M.D., Ph.D., the director of Long Beach Genetics in Long Beach, Calif., who assured me that two parents with A positive blood can, most definitely, have a child with O positive blood. I vote with the doctor. Stop stirring the pot.
Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
TRAGIC TALE WARNS TEENS ALWAYS TO DRIVE WITH CARE
DEAR ABBY: In June of 1976, you ran a short essay about teen-age drivers. It was called "Please God, I'm Only 17." I know it has probably run several more times since then, but the message is so important, it should be repeated at least once a year.
Our son, who is now 28, was involved in a car accident. His car was totaled, but thank God he survived. If you use this letter in your column, please sign it ... A CONCERNED PARENT, HUNTSVILLE, ALA.
DEAR PARENT: This piece is one of the most powerful that I have ever run in my column, and I still receive many requests for it. Young people have confirmed that it made them think twice about their driving habits and encouraged them to be careful. You are right; it should run at least once a year, so here it is:
PLEASE GOD, I'M ONLY 17
The day I died was an ordinary school day. How I wish I had taken the bus. But I was too cool for the bus. I remember how I wheedled the car out of Mom. "Special favor," I pleaded. "All the kids drive."
When the 2:50 bell rang, I threw all my books in the locker. I was free until 8:40 tomorrow morning! I ran to the parking lot, excited at the thought of driving a car and being my own boss. Free!
It doesn't matter how the accident happened. I was goofing off -- going too fast. Taking crazy chances. But I was enjoying my freedom and having fun. The last thing I remember was passing an old lady who seemed to be going awfully slow. I heard the deafening crash and felt a terrible jolt. Glass and steel flew everywhere. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.
Suddenly I awakened; it was very quiet. A police officer was standing over me. Then I saw a doctor. My body was mangled. I was saturated with blood. Pieces of jagged glass were sticking out all over. Strange that I couldn't feel anything.
Hey, don't pull that sheet over my head! I can't be dead. I'm only 17. I've got a date tonight. I'm supposed to grow up and have a wonderful life. I haven't lived yet. I can't be dead!
Later I was placed in a drawer. My folks had to identify me. Why did they have to see me like this? Why did I have to look at Mom's eyes when she faced the most terrible ordeal of her life? Dad suddenly looked like an old man. He told the man in charge, "Yes, he is my son."
The funeral was a weird experience. I saw all my relatives and friends walk toward the casket. They passed by, one by one, and looked at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. Some of my buddies were crying. A few of the girls touched my hand and sobbed as they walked away.
Please -- somebody -- wake me up! Get me out of here! I can't bear to see my mom and dad so broken up. My grandparents are so racked with grief they can hardly walk. My brothers and sisters are like zombies. They move like robots. In a daze, everybody. No one can believe this. And I can't believe it, either.
Please don't bury me! I'm not dead! I have a lot of living to do! I want to laugh and run again. I want to sing and dance. Please don't put me in the ground. I promise if you give me one more chance, God, I'll be the most careful driver in the whole world. All I want is one more chance!
Please, God, I'm only 17!
What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)