UPDATE: I see that a lot of people have come to this post today, and my first thought was “Why?” Now I see that it has a bit about Whitney and Laura in it. I’m sorry but that’s about all there is – a bit. I had special interest in the case because I live in here in Northern Indiana and went to high school in Michigan where Laura was from and where she went after the time at Parkview in Fort Wayne. In addition, my daughter-in-law also worked there on the neuro floor as an RN for a couple of years before coming to Parkview Noble.

I started following Laura’s blog and so I was very familiar with the background when the mis-identification was discovered and announced in national news. We talked a lot as to how traumatic this was for both families. So when my daughter-in-law brought the book out to me, I couldn’t not read it immediately.

It gives an honest insight in to what both families went through; I would say it puts you there with them. The writing is not contrived nor strained; it is pretty much as if they were sharing it with you personally or as if you are hearing it from a person who was right there with them.

And you hear Whitey’s voice, telling how she is now, how she was when she first re-entered the world of school and being away from home . . . and how she is adapting to her new personality.

What bothered me most in the account was not the candid memories of tough moments, but society is such that the Cerak’s  had to seriously consider if the first call to say Whitney might be alive was really a “prank” phone call, a cruel middle of the night trick by some jerk.

When you sit down to read it, you have to realize you are going to experience the families’ honest feelings and you almost feel guilty knowing you can close the book. I have deep respect for the way both families handled the situation. I don’t think I could have done it.

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I have four things to do in the next few days, four things to write . . . and I really, really don’t feel like doing them. I always feel like this and then when I have finished, it feels so very good – yes the old hit yourself over the head with a rock for a while and then stop syndrome.

Augghh, I am pushing the save button and going to go work on them.

Continuing on . . . I did start working and was going along pretty well when my daughter-in-law came out and handed me Mistaken Identity, the story about the two girls – Whitney Cerak and Laura VanRyn – who were mixed up after an accident here in Indiana. Laura died at the scene and Whitney survived, but for a long time, everyone thought it was the other way around. So . . . I read a good part of it.

Then I snacked and now I don’t feel like pushing paragraphs around at all. I feel like watching some TV and then going to bed, even if it is only 7:25 pm. I just took off my shoes – mmmmm, comfy stretching feet in pink socks. Pink socks? Yes, I couldn’t find my dark socks to go with my navy slacks and so I grabbed a pair of Lands End pink to coordinate with my burgundy silk blouse . . . which I need to go change out of before I get some horrendous stain on it.

Today someone talking about my mother today and made the comment, “She is never going to be a little old lady.” She’s got that right. Mother is one sharp dresser, unless she is working at home, and then she wears old ragged clothing. Not as bad as my dad though; the man wouldn’t go out in public without being immaculately dressed, but would work in the yard in duct-taped shoes. Can’t say too much, though, since I’m the one that preached duct tape as a cure-all for years. Did I duct tape the dog once? Wouldn’t doubt it.

Feeling restless tonight – maybe it’s the pink socks.