WHAT A DAY! Between my personal stupidity...I do suffer from this on very rare occasions...and the way the day unfolded, I am exhausted. I am having surgery soon. Not my first one with this doctor, so I know the ropes. Usually I am called by the hospital and put through a morning of absolute boredom while travelling from one department to another to get all types pre-op tests run. The hospital didn't call me, so I decided to call them. They told me they didn't do this anymore and I should talk to my doctor about it.
Well, as luck would have it, I had my pre-op exam with the doc in a couple days so I decided I'd wait and ask. I did. He is gone on vacation (I have NO problem with this, by the way) and I was seen by one of his P.A.'s. When everything was done and we were both all happy she asked me if I had any questions and I did. Yo know, those tests I hadn't been asked to have done.
She excused herself for a minute so she could talk this over with the nurses and see what exactly I needed. 5 minutes and she was back. Yes. We need you to have blood work, x-ray and an EKG. OK. Can I have these at Oaklawn (10 mile drive) or do I have to go to Bronson (place of surgery and 25 mile drive).
"Bronson."
"When am I supposed to do this?"
"Anytime, but no later than Friday."
"This Friday?"
"Yes".
"Yeah, that's impossible. I'm working the rest of this week."
She left. Nurse came in. Sat down at the computer. Said, I'm typing you all new orders. It is not necessary to go to Bronson for this...You can go to Oaklawn. Anytime, but they would have to be done by Friday. This meant I would have to miss work.
I reported in to my afternoon job today at the Lutheran church and started in by asking Pastor Matyas what he preferred as far as my not being there long enough to get the tests run. He thought it would be a good idea if I did everything today and got it right out of my way. You know, he was so right about that. So I went.
The next 30 minutes (getting the car going and driving to Marshall from Albion) were wacky as hell and I'm not even going to tell you why...although it was all quite entertaining. After 2 hours of running all over the hospital, I got everything done and I'm back home. (Wheh!) I guess I could have gone in to work, but seriously, I'd have left in 30 mins. anyway. Besides sitting here sipping my iced tea and already in my PJs feels really good after a day like today.
Wednesday, September 02, 2015
Saturday, August 09, 2014
Flashcard Memories
We have been planning a big blowout celebration 3 weeks from today. Mom would have been 100 years old by that day, having passed her actual birthday a few days before. She has talked about making it to 100 a long time and we were excited that she was doing well and would be able to celebrate such a momentous occasion. However, Thursday morning, Mom had a stroke. She is now transitioning to a better place and by the time the big celebration day dawns on the calendar we will have celebrated a bigger occasion; her home going.
These moments from the last few weeks with Mom are scattered about in my brain and I am carefully sweeping them up and gathering them together in my arms, held close to my heart forever. These recent memories I trace back to my strongest, early memories of Mama. I was 4. We lived on a rice farm in Arkansas. Mom would walk her five children (me returning with her, still too young) to school in a row along the top of the rice levee ditch. Carrying a hoe in one hand, ever watchful for the water moccasins that sometimes came out and stretched themselves along the ditch bank. She was fearless with that hoe. I still have flashcard images of her doing war with her weapon of choice; killing snakes longer than she was tall. Chopping off their heads, holding the still wiggling body at the end of the hoe handle, tossing it aside, telling us kids it might not have a head but it would wiggle until the sun went down. She kept inventory. During our six months living there she proudly proclaimed that she killed 19 snakes. I'm sure she did.
She carried that warriors heart that fought the snakes throughout her life. Doing battle against the times. Partnering with my father; making the best world possible for their children to grow in. Ingraining within us the importance of education and the example of consistently working hard and more importantly the example of believing and trusting God for all things.
They have told us yesterday, Mama had 2 days to a week left. They stressed how important it was for us to see her now while she is still aware. Holding her hand and looking into those blue eyes, a mouth struggling to form words with a tongue refusing to obey. Letting us feel her love and somehow asking the question, "Where's James" waiting for that last son to arrive as he travels over the highways from Virginia to see Mom. She will be aware until he is here to say goodbye. Her warrior heart always fought for her children and she will fight to tell us all goodbye, to let us know we are loved, no matter.
I wish I could show you those flashcard memories but the album is too big. Stretching over my nearly 73 years. Image after image becomes vivid in my memory always there. A life painted with love. Daddy told me one day when I was fighting with Mom, "Sure she may be wrong sometimes. But always remember that everything she does, she does out of love." It is true. The things she did were the result of the love from her heart. What a tremendous legacy to leave behind. I hope I can follow her example. I will take up my vigil with brothers and sister; our way of letting Mom
know we feel her love and are sending our with her. Love you Mom. Always.
These moments from the last few weeks with Mom are scattered about in my brain and I am carefully sweeping them up and gathering them together in my arms, held close to my heart forever. These recent memories I trace back to my strongest, early memories of Mama. I was 4. We lived on a rice farm in Arkansas. Mom would walk her five children (me returning with her, still too young) to school in a row along the top of the rice levee ditch. Carrying a hoe in one hand, ever watchful for the water moccasins that sometimes came out and stretched themselves along the ditch bank. She was fearless with that hoe. I still have flashcard images of her doing war with her weapon of choice; killing snakes longer than she was tall. Chopping off their heads, holding the still wiggling body at the end of the hoe handle, tossing it aside, telling us kids it might not have a head but it would wiggle until the sun went down. She kept inventory. During our six months living there she proudly proclaimed that she killed 19 snakes. I'm sure she did.
She carried that warriors heart that fought the snakes throughout her life. Doing battle against the times. Partnering with my father; making the best world possible for their children to grow in. Ingraining within us the importance of education and the example of consistently working hard and more importantly the example of believing and trusting God for all things.
They have told us yesterday, Mama had 2 days to a week left. They stressed how important it was for us to see her now while she is still aware. Holding her hand and looking into those blue eyes, a mouth struggling to form words with a tongue refusing to obey. Letting us feel her love and somehow asking the question, "Where's James" waiting for that last son to arrive as he travels over the highways from Virginia to see Mom. She will be aware until he is here to say goodbye. Her warrior heart always fought for her children and she will fight to tell us all goodbye, to let us know we are loved, no matter.
I wish I could show you those flashcard memories but the album is too big. Stretching over my nearly 73 years. Image after image becomes vivid in my memory always there. A life painted with love. Daddy told me one day when I was fighting with Mom, "Sure she may be wrong sometimes. But always remember that everything she does, she does out of love." It is true. The things she did were the result of the love from her heart. What a tremendous legacy to leave behind. I hope I can follow her example. I will take up my vigil with brothers and sister; our way of letting Mom
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Squirrel!
So this morning I took Sweet Pea to the yard to perform her a.m. ablutions. Such a good girl (or needy girl) she quickly took care of business and I called her to the tree. Now our adorable Sweet Pea is an accomplished escape artist. We have done everything (everything) to contain the dog in our fenced in back yard. Nothing worked. She always found a way out. Finally in desperation we decided we would have to NEVER let her outside w/o being restrained in some manner.
We have a tree in the center of the yard (it is now our dog tree). Around the tree we put a chain and secured it with a padlock so we could adjust the slack in the chain according to how fast the tree grew. To one end of the chair we secured a 25' metal cable encased in plastic. It has those hooky things on both ends. One end we hooked to the dog tree; the other to the dog's collar. This gave some room and she still can reach about 1/2 of the back yard. We hated doing this but our experience with her let us know we had no other option. It has worked pretty good, mostly.
But, back to this morning. The long cable was in a nice circle pattern. It happens. I was standing right in the middle of it. I called Sweet Pea to come ("come tree") and she came up to me and just gingerly gaze over at whatever she was looking at while completely ignoring me. I reached down to fasten her leash to her collar and unhook the cable. That's when she saw it... and
SQUIRREL! She was gone. The cable snapped against my leg and I doubled over in pain. I admit freely that I bawled like a little sissy girl. And then I bawled some more. Seriously, I was in a lot of pain. I finally got smart and began praying because I was having a hard time putting any weight on the injured leg. I asked God to just help me get into the house and He did. The phone was ringing as I opened the door. My sister, Phyllis, was calling wanting to catch me before I left for work. I was still crying and she consoled me and soon I was able to stop blubbering.
When I got off the phone I went to check the leg. The top layer of skin was off... and a huge red welt remained undrr the skin. At least I wasn't bleeding. My leg had a lump (not goose egg, more like ostrich or so it seemed to me) and everything was turning purple. I just wanted to be able to walk enough to get to work. That's when I asked for prayer from my FB contacts and got it together and headed off to work.
The day is done. The prayers supported me and I was able to do my job and by day's end the pain was mostly gone when I stood on my leg. I am thankful; for prayer support... for a God who hears and mostly because this could have been much worse. At first I feared the bone could be broken; you know old people's bones break easily.
That's it. Not really exciting... but, you really have to watch out for those squirrels when walking a dog...
This is it... warning. it is gross.
We have a tree in the center of the yard (it is now our dog tree). Around the tree we put a chain and secured it with a padlock so we could adjust the slack in the chain according to how fast the tree grew. To one end of the chair we secured a 25' metal cable encased in plastic. It has those hooky things on both ends. One end we hooked to the dog tree; the other to the dog's collar. This gave some room and she still can reach about 1/2 of the back yard. We hated doing this but our experience with her let us know we had no other option. It has worked pretty good, mostly.
But, back to this morning. The long cable was in a nice circle pattern. It happens. I was standing right in the middle of it. I called Sweet Pea to come ("come tree") and she came up to me and just gingerly gaze over at whatever she was looking at while completely ignoring me. I reached down to fasten her leash to her collar and unhook the cable. That's when she saw it... and
SQUIRREL! She was gone. The cable snapped against my leg and I doubled over in pain. I admit freely that I bawled like a little sissy girl. And then I bawled some more. Seriously, I was in a lot of pain. I finally got smart and began praying because I was having a hard time putting any weight on the injured leg. I asked God to just help me get into the house and He did. The phone was ringing as I opened the door. My sister, Phyllis, was calling wanting to catch me before I left for work. I was still crying and she consoled me and soon I was able to stop blubbering.
When I got off the phone I went to check the leg. The top layer of skin was off... and a huge red welt remained undrr the skin. At least I wasn't bleeding. My leg had a lump (not goose egg, more like ostrich or so it seemed to me) and everything was turning purple. I just wanted to be able to walk enough to get to work. That's when I asked for prayer from my FB contacts and got it together and headed off to work.
The day is done. The prayers supported me and I was able to do my job and by day's end the pain was mostly gone when I stood on my leg. I am thankful; for prayer support... for a God who hears and mostly because this could have been much worse. At first I feared the bone could be broken; you know old people's bones break easily.
That's it. Not really exciting... but, you really have to watch out for those squirrels when walking a dog...
This is it... warning. it is gross.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Me and the Wheelchair
Sunday while visiting with my Mom I managed to get into a wrestling match with her chair; wheelchair, that is! My shoe somehow got caught by the chair and all I could see was me doing a sommersalt over the seat and winding up in some awkward position in the floor from where I would cry out in my most dignified, embarrassed voice "call 911!" As exciting as this image seemed in that second, I determined I'd keep on my feet no matter what. I did while feeling my foot develop some kind of OW!OW!OW! DAMMIT! OW! That hurts! sensation.
I had been moving the chair to get it out of the way; we were headed out to lunch with Mom. I was sure I would have a sore foot but didn't think much more about it. By the time we went to the car after lunch, I was having trouble walking. Jamelah left me in the car and took Mom back to her apartment and got her settled in. When we got home, I pulled off my shoe expecting to see some mangled mess, but nothing different. I took my Sunday afternoon nap and when I woke up I stood up only to find I could not stand any weight on my foot at all. I cried like a sissy little girl then I yelled at Jamelah for help. I had to pee and I wasn't sure I could make it to the bathroom. I sent her to my sister's house to borrow Phyllis's old walker and she brought it back and I was able to hobble in to the bathroom.
Bathrooms are made for getting great ideas and I had one. I remembered the vicadan (I know this is spelled wrong, spellchecker; get over it. I'm not going to look it up. everyone knows what I'm talking about) the dentist had given me when I had a root canal the previous fall. Yes! So, off I went to sleep. That was a good idea. We entertained the idea of heading for the ER but they prefer you to see your primary care doctor so I thought I'd just wait and call the doctor first thing in the morning for an appointment; the pain med was working just fine; no hurry. I still had 1/2 bottle of vicadan left.
Morning came and I began the calls to the doctor's office (Dr. Burkhardt is an orthopedic surgeon who did both my knees and few other odd jobs on me. He and I are on a first name basis now.) Seriously, the soonest they could get me in was 3:30 on Thursday. My foot could be broken but I would have to wait until Thursday to get an appointment. I told them I was not picky I'd be completely happy to see the PA. I just needed to get my foot xrayed to see if I had broken it. Well, she explained to me again: the soonest they would have someone in the office to approve the order for an xray would be Thursday afternoon at 3:30. If I wanted an xray before then, I'd have to go to xpress care or see my primary care doctor. "Thanks" hmmmmmmmmmmm. I made the appointment. I called my Primary care doctor. She would see me at 3:30 Monday afternoon. If they had a cancellation they would give me a call to come in sooner.
Dr. Johnson and her staff were extremely sweet to me and mentioned the word "stubborn" a couple times especially when she asked me how I had gotten to her office and I looked at her rather perplexed and said "I drove, I didn't walk!" I had not taken any vicodan all day just so I could drive and I figured that I'd have to drive myself to Marshall and get xrayed after she got through with me because that's how that works. The Albion clinic would be closed by the time I got out my appt with her.
All true except going in for the xray part. She did not give me a slip for an xray: she sent me straight to ... you guessed it ... the ER! and told me not to get someone else to drive me there. Luckily my nephew had stopped over and was helping with "stuff" before his ISOM class at New Hope, so he drove me to the ER and abandoned me there (not really). Jamelah would stop for me on her way home from work in Battle Creek.
I explained how I had lost the match with my mom's chair to the staff at the hospital. For some reason they found me slightly amusing and took really good care of me. After the xrays were completed the doctor told me I had been wrong. The chair did not win; my foot did. I was a bit confused by this and he laughed and said "your foot won; not the chair. Fortunately for you, there are no broken bones, just bad bruising. It should heal quickly and you'll be fine." Yea! and with a new script of vicadan (however you spell it; no one can spell it right when taking the stuff. I'll look it up later). Jamelah had arrive by then. She hadn't had supper so we headed through Wendy's drive thru and I got a Frosty. Wouldn't you say I deserved one by this time?
My foot hurts and I'm trying to get back up to my regular speed quickly. I have to work Thursday. I don't have time to gimp about. But, it looks like I will be "gimpy" for a while now. Just thankful that my foot won and not the chair.
I had been moving the chair to get it out of the way; we were headed out to lunch with Mom. I was sure I would have a sore foot but didn't think much more about it. By the time we went to the car after lunch, I was having trouble walking. Jamelah left me in the car and took Mom back to her apartment and got her settled in. When we got home, I pulled off my shoe expecting to see some mangled mess, but nothing different. I took my Sunday afternoon nap and when I woke up I stood up only to find I could not stand any weight on my foot at all. I cried like a sissy little girl then I yelled at Jamelah for help. I had to pee and I wasn't sure I could make it to the bathroom. I sent her to my sister's house to borrow Phyllis's old walker and she brought it back and I was able to hobble in to the bathroom.
Bathrooms are made for getting great ideas and I had one. I remembered the vicadan (I know this is spelled wrong, spellchecker; get over it. I'm not going to look it up. everyone knows what I'm talking about) the dentist had given me when I had a root canal the previous fall. Yes! So, off I went to sleep. That was a good idea. We entertained the idea of heading for the ER but they prefer you to see your primary care doctor so I thought I'd just wait and call the doctor first thing in the morning for an appointment; the pain med was working just fine; no hurry. I still had 1/2 bottle of vicadan left.
Morning came and I began the calls to the doctor's office (Dr. Burkhardt is an orthopedic surgeon who did both my knees and few other odd jobs on me. He and I are on a first name basis now.) Seriously, the soonest they could get me in was 3:30 on Thursday. My foot could be broken but I would have to wait until Thursday to get an appointment. I told them I was not picky I'd be completely happy to see the PA. I just needed to get my foot xrayed to see if I had broken it. Well, she explained to me again: the soonest they would have someone in the office to approve the order for an xray would be Thursday afternoon at 3:30. If I wanted an xray before then, I'd have to go to xpress care or see my primary care doctor. "Thanks" hmmmmmmmmmmm. I made the appointment. I called my Primary care doctor. She would see me at 3:30 Monday afternoon. If they had a cancellation they would give me a call to come in sooner.
Dr. Johnson and her staff were extremely sweet to me and mentioned the word "stubborn" a couple times especially when she asked me how I had gotten to her office and I looked at her rather perplexed and said "I drove, I didn't walk!" I had not taken any vicodan all day just so I could drive and I figured that I'd have to drive myself to Marshall and get xrayed after she got through with me because that's how that works. The Albion clinic would be closed by the time I got out my appt with her.
All true except going in for the xray part. She did not give me a slip for an xray: she sent me straight to ... you guessed it ... the ER! and told me not to get someone else to drive me there. Luckily my nephew had stopped over and was helping with "stuff" before his ISOM class at New Hope, so he drove me to the ER and abandoned me there (not really). Jamelah would stop for me on her way home from work in Battle Creek.
I explained how I had lost the match with my mom's chair to the staff at the hospital. For some reason they found me slightly amusing and took really good care of me. After the xrays were completed the doctor told me I had been wrong. The chair did not win; my foot did. I was a bit confused by this and he laughed and said "your foot won; not the chair. Fortunately for you, there are no broken bones, just bad bruising. It should heal quickly and you'll be fine." Yea! and with a new script of vicadan (however you spell it; no one can spell it right when taking the stuff. I'll look it up later). Jamelah had arrive by then. She hadn't had supper so we headed through Wendy's drive thru and I got a Frosty. Wouldn't you say I deserved one by this time?
My foot hurts and I'm trying to get back up to my regular speed quickly. I have to work Thursday. I don't have time to gimp about. But, it looks like I will be "gimpy" for a while now. Just thankful that my foot won and not the chair.
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Old Woman & the I-Pod
My daughter gave me her I-Pod when she purchased a new I-phone Simply because she used the phone for everything including her music and didn't use
I-pod any more. My computer had become problematic and a technician had installed a new operating system which left the I-tunes she had loaded on it inoperable. I asked her to put it on my new operating system but she explained to me how these work and the fact that she could not install it but just so many times and she was about out of the ability to do so and had to save her one last installation in case her computer crashed again and she would have to buy a new one. So, anyway, I got the I-Pod so I could listen to I-tunes. Yippee Skippee!
Then today I had a doctor's appointment. I decided I'd take the I-Pod with me since I knew I'd be sitting there a loooonnnnnggggg time. I practiced playing Angry Birds at home to make sure I could actually do it on the device. I could. All was well. I stuck the gadget in my pocket and off I went. Sure enough I had to wait. I pulled out my new toy and opened Angry Birds and was ready for some fun and games. Unfortunately, it was ornery on me. It just would not let me fire my damn bird at the stupid pigs. They kept just plopping down on the ground and another one would jump right up in the sling and I was talking to the stupid birds and trying to figure out why my shooter was being so mean to me. I tried to back out and reload the game and somehow wound up turning on the speaker and some girl starting seranading me at the top of her lungs. Nice of her, but I do not have earbuds on and I'm in the doctor's office. This is not the time for a private concert. Of course I know the right thing to do is to simply turn off the music. So I did.... try. That is. I tried. I kept hitting all the buttons on the screen. I hit the back button, I hit something else. I hit "settings." Nothing there about the volume. I tried turning if off. It kept singing. Seriously. Singing more and more loudly.
And then they called my name. I stuck the stupid, consarned noise maker in my purse hoping everything in it would drown the sound. Got out of my seat and started up the hall to the open door and the waiting nurse. (A new one, a young man named Pat). He said "I believe your phone is ringing," because honestly, the purse did not drown out the sound. "No" I said that is not my phone. I pulled out the naughter device and said, "I can't figure out how to turn it off." He laughed and said, as I handed the obnoxious device to him and he immediately disciplined it and it shut right up. He handed it back to me and I sat it in the corner of my purse. He said "I just hit the pause button. I'll show you how it works when we get in the room." Once we were in the examining room he took it back and gave me a brief lesson on the correct way to control and I-pod. My, I have never learned so much in a doctor's office before. I feel it was time well spent.
Aside from that; I got an excellent report from the doctor. I sure am a fine old woman and becoming more and more technically savvy every day.
I-pod any more. My computer had become problematic and a technician had installed a new operating system which left the I-tunes she had loaded on it inoperable. I asked her to put it on my new operating system but she explained to me how these work and the fact that she could not install it but just so many times and she was about out of the ability to do so and had to save her one last installation in case her computer crashed again and she would have to buy a new one. So, anyway, I got the I-Pod so I could listen to I-tunes. Yippee Skippee!
Then today I had a doctor's appointment. I decided I'd take the I-Pod with me since I knew I'd be sitting there a loooonnnnnggggg time. I practiced playing Angry Birds at home to make sure I could actually do it on the device. I could. All was well. I stuck the gadget in my pocket and off I went. Sure enough I had to wait. I pulled out my new toy and opened Angry Birds and was ready for some fun and games. Unfortunately, it was ornery on me. It just would not let me fire my damn bird at the stupid pigs. They kept just plopping down on the ground and another one would jump right up in the sling and I was talking to the stupid birds and trying to figure out why my shooter was being so mean to me. I tried to back out and reload the game and somehow wound up turning on the speaker and some girl starting seranading me at the top of her lungs. Nice of her, but I do not have earbuds on and I'm in the doctor's office. This is not the time for a private concert. Of course I know the right thing to do is to simply turn off the music. So I did.... try. That is. I tried. I kept hitting all the buttons on the screen. I hit the back button, I hit something else. I hit "settings." Nothing there about the volume. I tried turning if off. It kept singing. Seriously. Singing more and more loudly.
And then they called my name. I stuck the stupid, consarned noise maker in my purse hoping everything in it would drown the sound. Got out of my seat and started up the hall to the open door and the waiting nurse. (A new one, a young man named Pat). He said "I believe your phone is ringing," because honestly, the purse did not drown out the sound. "No" I said that is not my phone. I pulled out the naughter device and said, "I can't figure out how to turn it off." He laughed and said, as I handed the obnoxious device to him and he immediately disciplined it and it shut right up. He handed it back to me and I sat it in the corner of my purse. He said "I just hit the pause button. I'll show you how it works when we get in the room." Once we were in the examining room he took it back and gave me a brief lesson on the correct way to control and I-pod. My, I have never learned so much in a doctor's office before. I feel it was time well spent.
Aside from that; I got an excellent report from the doctor. I sure am a fine old woman and becoming more and more technically savvy every day.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
What I Got Is A Free Pass!
I felt intimidated by the hugeness of the hospital. Trust me, it is huge! And there's lots of it; I mean, there is a campus of hospitals to make up The Hospital and each hospital on the campus is huge. Altogether, that makes it SUPER HUGE! and in GREAT HUGENESS. I was correct to feel a bit panicked and very intimidated. Jamelah said "Don't have a panic attack!" as I gulped when we approached the first parking ramp (not our designated ramp... we, had to pass 2 more before we got to ours). Humph! I'm not panicking. Yep. I'm not, well, not yet anyway.
Our instructions were precise (which is probably why I doubted them) and clear. They took us to the right ramp, the right door, the right hallway, the right office. Weird.
Jamelah had brought her laptop and settled into a comfy couch in a large outer lounge area and settled in for some enjoyable reading time. I headed into the inner sanctum to face the dreaded ordeal. I was quickly checked in and sent off with the nurse for my first inspection. She left me to catch my breath and I was soon greeted by 2 medical students who were "happy" (their words, not mine) to make my acquaintance and wanted to know if I would mind if they "observed" the process. "Nope!" you know, the more the merrier.
Next the assistant doctor came and inspected me with the students "observing". They then left me to cool my heels until the Real doctor would come in to look me over. The nicest thing about having your vocal chords examined is that you remain fully clothed. There is none of that uncomfortable business of getting undressed and stacking your clothes on a chair in proper order so none of your unmentionables are visible. Sort of like, you weren't really wearing them when you came in.
Anyway, the good doctor made his appearance and there I was in a tiny cubicle of an office with 4 doctors (that's right 4... well, 2 med students and 2 doctors) to inspect my vocal chords. The room seemed too close. We had to leave this first room and go to another one which contained the TV monitors and sound equipment. Down the hall we went in our convoy of 5. And who said this wouldn't be any fun.
The doctor sprayed some numbing stuff up my nose because that is how they would get the camera down to my vocal chords. I had to wait a few seconds so we could chat a bit and become better acquainted before they began getting intimate with my voice box. The doctor handed me a microphone (seriously, a microphone) then said, "I am going to give you a short story to read. I want to see how your vocal chords move as you read."
"Really," I said, "I thought maybe we were going to sing karaoke." He chuckled, "well, maybe we'll do that when we finish up here." Then I chuckled and let him know he probably wouldn't want me singing, mike or no mike. So, the process began. I got to read the story a bit then make a lot of eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sounds and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhs and Ha, ha ha... and hee hee hees. Then it was over. There was some chatting it up between him and his #1 doc and questions to his students. They seemed to all be having a great old time and in perfect agreement with him on everything.
When they got through "conferring" the good doctord told me this:
1. I had an infection on my vocal chords. This was why they appeared white. (I got to see them on the TV monitors too) One was worse than the other. This is a common side effect people have who use Advair on a daily basis as I do. I would be given a script to kill the stuff and he would make a recommendation to my primary care doctor concerning this. During his discussion regarding his letter to my doctor, I decided all by myself that I'd just quit using the damn stuff. It costs too much anyway.
Step one. Check. That's done
2. The vocal chords are muscles. Just like other muscles if not used they become weakened. Weekend athletes learn they cannot workout all at once without suffering the consequences. They have to remain in shape and keep in shape. IN OTHER WORDS, PEOPLE! He told me my biggest problem was that I wasn't talking enough. That's right. Since I had retired, I had stopped talking as much and my vocal chords had weakened. He recommended that I read aloud at home, practice using my diaphragm and would probably begin to observe that talking would become increasingly easier and easier. WELL! KNOCK MY SOCKS OFF! I got a free pass. The doctor told me to talk. No! I will not shut up. I have to talk. Listen. I'm just following doctor's orders, so talk I will.
Don't you just love it? No?
Step two. I shall work on it... and enjoy every minute.
3. Then he told me he wants me back in 6 weeks to see how I am doing. Really? Come back here? To this SUPER HUGE place with its 10,000 parking ramps. Humph. You think it's necessary?
Step Three We'll just have to wait and see about that one. I've got an appointment. Maybe.
Our instructions were precise (which is probably why I doubted them) and clear. They took us to the right ramp, the right door, the right hallway, the right office. Weird.
Jamelah had brought her laptop and settled into a comfy couch in a large outer lounge area and settled in for some enjoyable reading time. I headed into the inner sanctum to face the dreaded ordeal. I was quickly checked in and sent off with the nurse for my first inspection. She left me to catch my breath and I was soon greeted by 2 medical students who were "happy" (their words, not mine) to make my acquaintance and wanted to know if I would mind if they "observed" the process. "Nope!" you know, the more the merrier.
Next the assistant doctor came and inspected me with the students "observing". They then left me to cool my heels until the Real doctor would come in to look me over. The nicest thing about having your vocal chords examined is that you remain fully clothed. There is none of that uncomfortable business of getting undressed and stacking your clothes on a chair in proper order so none of your unmentionables are visible. Sort of like, you weren't really wearing them when you came in.
Anyway, the good doctor made his appearance and there I was in a tiny cubicle of an office with 4 doctors (that's right 4... well, 2 med students and 2 doctors) to inspect my vocal chords. The room seemed too close. We had to leave this first room and go to another one which contained the TV monitors and sound equipment. Down the hall we went in our convoy of 5. And who said this wouldn't be any fun.
The doctor sprayed some numbing stuff up my nose because that is how they would get the camera down to my vocal chords. I had to wait a few seconds so we could chat a bit and become better acquainted before they began getting intimate with my voice box. The doctor handed me a microphone (seriously, a microphone) then said, "I am going to give you a short story to read. I want to see how your vocal chords move as you read."
"Really," I said, "I thought maybe we were going to sing karaoke." He chuckled, "well, maybe we'll do that when we finish up here." Then I chuckled and let him know he probably wouldn't want me singing, mike or no mike. So, the process began. I got to read the story a bit then make a lot of eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sounds and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhs and Ha, ha ha... and hee hee hees. Then it was over. There was some chatting it up between him and his #1 doc and questions to his students. They seemed to all be having a great old time and in perfect agreement with him on everything.
When they got through "conferring" the good doctord told me this:
1. I had an infection on my vocal chords. This was why they appeared white. (I got to see them on the TV monitors too) One was worse than the other. This is a common side effect people have who use Advair on a daily basis as I do. I would be given a script to kill the stuff and he would make a recommendation to my primary care doctor concerning this. During his discussion regarding his letter to my doctor, I decided all by myself that I'd just quit using the damn stuff. It costs too much anyway.
Step one. Check. That's done
2. The vocal chords are muscles. Just like other muscles if not used they become weakened. Weekend athletes learn they cannot workout all at once without suffering the consequences. They have to remain in shape and keep in shape. IN OTHER WORDS, PEOPLE! He told me my biggest problem was that I wasn't talking enough. That's right. Since I had retired, I had stopped talking as much and my vocal chords had weakened. He recommended that I read aloud at home, practice using my diaphragm and would probably begin to observe that talking would become increasingly easier and easier. WELL! KNOCK MY SOCKS OFF! I got a free pass. The doctor told me to talk. No! I will not shut up. I have to talk. Listen. I'm just following doctor's orders, so talk I will.
Don't you just love it? No?
Step two. I shall work on it... and enjoy every minute.
3. Then he told me he wants me back in 6 weeks to see how I am doing. Really? Come back here? To this SUPER HUGE place with its 10,000 parking ramps. Humph. You think it's necessary?
Step Three We'll just have to wait and see about that one. I've got an appointment. Maybe.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Organ Donor?
Mom hasn't driven for years but has kept an active driver's license to use for ID purposes. It was easy to maintain since Michigan lets a person renew by mail every other time. This was the time she had to go in and take the test to get a new license. I knew this would not work and we decided instead she should just get the Michigan ID.
So this morning we went to the Secretary of State's office to get her an ID. We pulled our number tag and took a seat. Mom always reads any word she sees. I always ignore it. This time she was reading a sign adhered to the back of the seat across from us. "Sign up today to become an organ donor". Then she said, "I don't want to be a donor."
Me; not paying attention. "I don't have any organs I want to donate." Now she has my attention: I'm thinking, "huh?". I have that organ at the house I thought I'd donate to Jamelah." (me really confused now. I can read the sign... but I can't figure out what organ she has at home to she had ever planned to donate to Jamelah).
Then she continued: "She was interested int taking music lessons and I thought I'd give it to her then".
Light dawns. She is talking about a piano. A beautiful Baldwin. She bought it when Jamelah was a kid and taking piano lessons. I am not going to explain to her that the organ on the sign has nothing to do with music. I'm just going to enjoy the moment.
So this morning we went to the Secretary of State's office to get her an ID. We pulled our number tag and took a seat. Mom always reads any word she sees. I always ignore it. This time she was reading a sign adhered to the back of the seat across from us. "Sign up today to become an organ donor". Then she said, "I don't want to be a donor."
Me; not paying attention. "I don't have any organs I want to donate." Now she has my attention: I'm thinking, "huh?". I have that organ at the house I thought I'd donate to Jamelah." (me really confused now. I can read the sign... but I can't figure out what organ she has at home to she had ever planned to donate to Jamelah).
Then she continued: "She was interested int taking music lessons and I thought I'd give it to her then".
Light dawns. She is talking about a piano. A beautiful Baldwin. She bought it when Jamelah was a kid and taking piano lessons. I am not going to explain to her that the organ on the sign has nothing to do with music. I'm just going to enjoy the moment.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Ansel Adams: Wow!
So Saturday Jamelah and I headed for the Ella Sharp Museum in Jackson to see the Ansel Adams Masterworks exhibit. Like many I have enjoyed his photos and was plain excited, you know; like a kid on the way to Cedar Pointe.
There were other exhibits there also and I enjoyed them all; especially one by a local photographer, Jennie L. Green. Ms. Green was an elementary teacher and took pictures of life around Jackson in the late 1800s/early 1900s until her death sometime in the 40s. She had received some acclaim and had exhibits in several places in her lifetime. The fact that she had to develop her own pictures really impressed me. I don't know how I thought film (well plates, actually) were developed back in the day. I had never thought about that at all. Mom has mentioned a few times that my grandfather had developed pictures at home he had taken when they were kids. I think I figured he had to do that because they lived way out in the boonies. I guess I'm just letting you know how truly "without a clue" I am about some things. Anyway, her photos were really interesting and some were very beautiful.
We were dilly-dallying around because we could hear someone up ahead of us holding forth about Adam's photos and, well me anyway, just wanted to go in and LOOK. So when the chatterer was far enough ahead we entered the gallery with the gallery. Oh My! I have a coffee table book (dumb name for a book) of Adams pictures, but still. seeing the originals. matted and framed. hanging on the wall. Oh My!
Jamelah liked to look and then get her nose right up to the glass and study carefully all the details in the photo. I liked to stand back and try to find the best light (there were reflections fm things hanging in the adjoining gallery. this annoyed me) and try to stand right in front to find the spot where he stood when he took the picture. I wanted to see what he saw.
My favorite print, and evidently evidently everyone's was titled "Moonrise" and you can see it
here
They were selling prints in the gift shop, but all copies of this photo had sold so they are ordering one for me. I am excited to get the print. We have a place in the dining room all picked out for it. Yea!
Part of the exhibit showed the cameras he had used. I smiled at their seeming familiarity knowing I was totally wrong.
Altogether it was a great time and if you are around here the exhibit will be on display through September 4.
There were other exhibits there also and I enjoyed them all; especially one by a local photographer, Jennie L. Green. Ms. Green was an elementary teacher and took pictures of life around Jackson in the late 1800s/early 1900s until her death sometime in the 40s. She had received some acclaim and had exhibits in several places in her lifetime. The fact that she had to develop her own pictures really impressed me. I don't know how I thought film (well plates, actually) were developed back in the day. I had never thought about that at all. Mom has mentioned a few times that my grandfather had developed pictures at home he had taken when they were kids. I think I figured he had to do that because they lived way out in the boonies. I guess I'm just letting you know how truly "without a clue" I am about some things. Anyway, her photos were really interesting and some were very beautiful.
We were dilly-dallying around because we could hear someone up ahead of us holding forth about Adam's photos and, well me anyway, just wanted to go in and LOOK. So when the chatterer was far enough ahead we entered the gallery with the gallery. Oh My! I have a coffee table book (dumb name for a book) of Adams pictures, but still. seeing the originals. matted and framed. hanging on the wall. Oh My!
Jamelah liked to look and then get her nose right up to the glass and study carefully all the details in the photo. I liked to stand back and try to find the best light (there were reflections fm things hanging in the adjoining gallery. this annoyed me) and try to stand right in front to find the spot where he stood when he took the picture. I wanted to see what he saw.
My favorite print, and evidently evidently everyone's was titled "Moonrise" and you can see it
here
They were selling prints in the gift shop, but all copies of this photo had sold so they are ordering one for me. I am excited to get the print. We have a place in the dining room all picked out for it. Yea!
Part of the exhibit showed the cameras he had used. I smiled at their seeming familiarity knowing I was totally wrong.
Altogether it was a great time and if you are around here the exhibit will be on display through September 4.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Super Moon = Hunter's Moon?
Time has been total chaos. Or so it seems. Then when I try to put it all in perspective I always say "Hey, it wasn't that bad."
Mom has fallen twice in the last 2 weeks. The first time we had to call the EMTs to help us get her up out of the floor. The 2nd time was Sunday morning. I'm not writing about that, I'm just telling it as a prefix, you know, to explain the main characters here. After her first fall she became nervous about staying alone nights and began spending nights with us. Every evening she would tell me she was going to stay home that night and I would tell her that was fine but to call me if she changed her mind. Every night when the sun went down, she called.
So, I had been picking Mom up each evening a little after 8pm. We'd drive the regular route; up East North Street before turning onto our street. And up E North Street we'd see the moon rising. It was incredible. Each night I'd come into the house, get Mom settled, and have to go back out to moon gaze. I was curious about the moon and when all the hype hit the media, I was already into it.
Saturday dawned awesome. I took Mom home and settled her in and then went about the day. We had to buy Mom a new microwave and vacuum because hers needed replaced. We got to her house to deliver her stuff and found her sitting in her usual chair wondering where everyone had been all day. We set up the microwave and put things we had bought away and tried to talk her into coming to our house for the night. She said no she planned to stay home because she wanted to get out of the habit of spending the night with us. So, I got her supper ready for her (had to make sure the microwave worked. it did) and we headed out the door.
"We're going home Mom, OK? Call me if you change your mind and I'll be right here to pick you up."
She replied, "OK, but I'll be fine." So, off we went..the few blocks home.
We ordered pizza and decided we were going to look at the moon. We discussed a good vantage point and I said "...driving up North Street after 8. I have seen it every night." So we planned to visit a city park that sits right at the end of the street. We are good to go. The phone rings and it is Mom saying she thinks I'd better come and get her. "OK, be right there Mom!" I told my daughter we'd pick up Mom and she could go the park without me. I'd see the moon when we drove up North Street on the way back home.
We got Mother and started our drive home; by now you know route; up East North Street. The moon was not there. Clear sky. No moon. We decided to go hunt it up. Mom asked if this was to be the Hunters Moon and Jamelah said "Yes." Why, because we were going to hunt it down. We'd just take my 96 year old mother along for the ride. So we kept driving past our turnoff.
"Where are we going?" Mom wanted to know.
"To hunt the moon!" said my daughter.
"Hunters Moon?" my mother said.
"Yes! the hunters moon."
We headed to 94 (this interstate heads due east) because we figured it would give us the best vantage point and once it appeared we'd find a place to pull over and enjoy the view. So moon gazing we went. Due east up 94. When the moon first broke the horizon I nearly peed my pants.
"I should have brought my camera" Jamelah said.
I can't tell you how excited I was. (I can't remember if Jamelah said I was weird, such a nerd, or a geek. It was one of those things. She has called me all of them at one time or another.) I was ridiculous. Like a kid at the fair for the first time. It was AMAZING. The hype was not over hyped. I nearly cried. I was so happy.
I turned around "Look Mom! the MOON!"
"Yeah," she said. "I can see it." and then she was ready to go home. We weren't of course.
Our drive lasted about an hour with the drive home being less interesting. No moon. No need to explain, right! Once home and Mom was settled in we were outside enjoying the view.
Sunday morning I showed Mom a Super Moon picture taken by our friend Caryn. (see link)
Mom looked at it and said "We saw that, didn't we" she asked.
"Yes, Mom we saw it."
"Was that the Hunter's Moon?" she asked again.
Uh-hmmmmmmm The Hunter's Moon.
Mom has fallen twice in the last 2 weeks. The first time we had to call the EMTs to help us get her up out of the floor. The 2nd time was Sunday morning. I'm not writing about that, I'm just telling it as a prefix, you know, to explain the main characters here. After her first fall she became nervous about staying alone nights and began spending nights with us. Every evening she would tell me she was going to stay home that night and I would tell her that was fine but to call me if she changed her mind. Every night when the sun went down, she called.
So, I had been picking Mom up each evening a little after 8pm. We'd drive the regular route; up East North Street before turning onto our street. And up E North Street we'd see the moon rising. It was incredible. Each night I'd come into the house, get Mom settled, and have to go back out to moon gaze. I was curious about the moon and when all the hype hit the media, I was already into it.
Saturday dawned awesome. I took Mom home and settled her in and then went about the day. We had to buy Mom a new microwave and vacuum because hers needed replaced. We got to her house to deliver her stuff and found her sitting in her usual chair wondering where everyone had been all day. We set up the microwave and put things we had bought away and tried to talk her into coming to our house for the night. She said no she planned to stay home because she wanted to get out of the habit of spending the night with us. So, I got her supper ready for her (had to make sure the microwave worked. it did) and we headed out the door.
"We're going home Mom, OK? Call me if you change your mind and I'll be right here to pick you up."
She replied, "OK, but I'll be fine." So, off we went..the few blocks home.
We ordered pizza and decided we were going to look at the moon. We discussed a good vantage point and I said "...driving up North Street after 8. I have seen it every night." So we planned to visit a city park that sits right at the end of the street. We are good to go. The phone rings and it is Mom saying she thinks I'd better come and get her. "OK, be right there Mom!" I told my daughter we'd pick up Mom and she could go the park without me. I'd see the moon when we drove up North Street on the way back home.
We got Mother and started our drive home; by now you know route; up East North Street. The moon was not there. Clear sky. No moon. We decided to go hunt it up. Mom asked if this was to be the Hunters Moon and Jamelah said "Yes." Why, because we were going to hunt it down. We'd just take my 96 year old mother along for the ride. So we kept driving past our turnoff.
"Where are we going?" Mom wanted to know.
"To hunt the moon!" said my daughter.
"Hunters Moon?" my mother said.
"Yes! the hunters moon."
We headed to 94 (this interstate heads due east) because we figured it would give us the best vantage point and once it appeared we'd find a place to pull over and enjoy the view. So moon gazing we went. Due east up 94. When the moon first broke the horizon I nearly peed my pants.
"I should have brought my camera" Jamelah said.
I can't tell you how excited I was. (I can't remember if Jamelah said I was weird, such a nerd, or a geek. It was one of those things. She has called me all of them at one time or another.) I was ridiculous. Like a kid at the fair for the first time. It was AMAZING. The hype was not over hyped. I nearly cried. I was so happy.
I turned around "Look Mom! the MOON!"
"Yeah," she said. "I can see it." and then she was ready to go home. We weren't of course.
Our drive lasted about an hour with the drive home being less interesting. No moon. No need to explain, right! Once home and Mom was settled in we were outside enjoying the view.
Sunday morning I showed Mom a Super Moon picture taken by our friend Caryn. (see link)
Mom looked at it and said "We saw that, didn't we" she asked.
"Yes, Mom we saw it."
"Was that the Hunter's Moon?" she asked again.
Uh-hmmmmmmm The Hunter's Moon.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
A Good Day To See A Movie
So...our friend Denise volunteered to bring Mom's lunch today and hang out with her. Day Off for me! Yea! Jamelah and I decided we'd do lunch and go to the movies.
The day started off slow, neither one of us feeling like hurrying to get things done. I did dishes and the such while thinking about getting a pot of soup into the crock pot while never actually doing it. Jamelah finished up some stuff she had been working on and lunchtime passed us by. I figured I'd better get Mom's supper ready because we would be doing a later show than we originally thought. Jamelah headed off to the dealership to get an oil change she'd been delaying having done.
All the "have to dos" done we headed off for lunch at Red Lobster. Yum! You always pretend like you need more biscuits so you can have the waiter bring you a bag to take them home in. I love those biscuits. Stuffed and content we head for the theatre.
You know what? Wednesday afternoon is a good day to go to the movies. Why? Because no one else has decided to go at the same time. Parked right in front of the megaplex and walked in. Our movie choice: True Grit.We walked in to an empty theatre and picked exactly the best seats in the house. Not too close, not too far back. Right in the middle. We left an empty seat between us and piled it full of coats and purses and began watching all that stuff they show before the movie begins. Two other couples came to join us. 6 people in the theatre. then SHOW TIME! I love previews of coming attractions. Really, I do.
And then... a couple walks in. and sits right smack dab in front of us. COME ON! There are 6 people here and you have to sit directly in front of 2 of them. Really! There are probably 150 vacant seats in the house. 15 rows to choose from. Really! That is so rude. The female left to get popcorn or whatever, leaving the male sitting with his big old head directly in Jamelah's line of vision. I asked her if she wanted to move over, "yeah" she replied, climbing over me to sit in the next seat over. We looked at the near empty theatre and the transgressors who decided to plop down right in front of us and got the giggles. We were laughing uncontrollably by the time the female came back and then we got worse. We both laughing right out loud. Seriously loud. We had to stop. The previews began. I love previews of coming attractions.
The movie started. It was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good! When suddenly I"m blinded by a bright white light. Ms. Rude in front of me has decided she really needs to check her text messages. I said "Really!" She closed her phone. Come on Folks!
Now here's my question. Why is that there is always someone coming to the movies that will talk incessantly, or find it necessary to explain the plot in detail to the person they are with (what is w/that anyway) and now feel it necessary to play with their phone during the movies. And furthermore, why do they always sit close to us. WHY? Yes, I want to know why!
Oh... and True Grit. Best movie I have seen in ages. Well acted, well scripted. Bravo! Go see it if you can. And also, the soundtrack. Loved it. Leaning on the Everlasting Arms played throughout... and Hold to God's Unchanging Hand was used. Loved those old hymns. They didn't sing them, but they just felt right. I buy the soundtrack I'd go see this movie again in a minute. Want to go with?
The day started off slow, neither one of us feeling like hurrying to get things done. I did dishes and the such while thinking about getting a pot of soup into the crock pot while never actually doing it. Jamelah finished up some stuff she had been working on and lunchtime passed us by. I figured I'd better get Mom's supper ready because we would be doing a later show than we originally thought. Jamelah headed off to the dealership to get an oil change she'd been delaying having done.
All the "have to dos" done we headed off for lunch at Red Lobster. Yum! You always pretend like you need more biscuits so you can have the waiter bring you a bag to take them home in. I love those biscuits. Stuffed and content we head for the theatre.
You know what? Wednesday afternoon is a good day to go to the movies. Why? Because no one else has decided to go at the same time. Parked right in front of the megaplex and walked in. Our movie choice: True Grit.We walked in to an empty theatre and picked exactly the best seats in the house. Not too close, not too far back. Right in the middle. We left an empty seat between us and piled it full of coats and purses and began watching all that stuff they show before the movie begins. Two other couples came to join us. 6 people in the theatre. then SHOW TIME! I love previews of coming attractions. Really, I do.
And then... a couple walks in. and sits right smack dab in front of us. COME ON! There are 6 people here and you have to sit directly in front of 2 of them. Really! There are probably 150 vacant seats in the house. 15 rows to choose from. Really! That is so rude. The female left to get popcorn or whatever, leaving the male sitting with his big old head directly in Jamelah's line of vision. I asked her if she wanted to move over, "yeah" she replied, climbing over me to sit in the next seat over. We looked at the near empty theatre and the transgressors who decided to plop down right in front of us and got the giggles. We were laughing uncontrollably by the time the female came back and then we got worse. We both laughing right out loud. Seriously loud. We had to stop. The previews began. I love previews of coming attractions.
The movie started. It was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good! When suddenly I"m blinded by a bright white light. Ms. Rude in front of me has decided she really needs to check her text messages. I said "Really!" She closed her phone. Come on Folks!
Now here's my question. Why is that there is always someone coming to the movies that will talk incessantly, or find it necessary to explain the plot in detail to the person they are with (what is w/that anyway) and now feel it necessary to play with their phone during the movies. And furthermore, why do they always sit close to us. WHY? Yes, I want to know why!
Oh... and True Grit. Best movie I have seen in ages. Well acted, well scripted. Bravo! Go see it if you can. And also, the soundtrack. Loved it. Leaning on the Everlasting Arms played throughout... and Hold to God's Unchanging Hand was used. Loved those old hymns. They didn't sing them, but they just felt right. I buy the soundtrack I'd go see this movie again in a minute. Want to go with?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Mom has alzheimers
Mom has Alzheimer's.
No more beating of my breast while screaming at the heavens asking WHY?. There is no answer to that question; so I've stop asking it. This is not going away. My life will never be the same again and simply by accepting this I have stopped the downward spiral over the cliff. Mama has Alzheimer's. She is slowly slipping away before my eyes. I can't bring her back.
Tomorrow will be sadder than today, and the next and the next. I can't change it. I am trying to live with it. I can't understand it. I am accepting it; daily, I accept it over and over again. Now, I treasure each segment in time that holds a light in her eyes and a shared memory.
She fights to hang onto herself and is frightened to find that she is losing her battle. She makes notes and lists and tries to make sure she is not "crazy". "Crazy" is her explanation for the lost minutes that just happened and the puzzle solving process of what day it is. She knows something is wrong and can't keep straight who called, what happened yesterday, last week, what she had for lunch and if she slept well. "I wake up in a new world every day," is one of her favorite expressions. Now she adds that she wakes up in a new world when she wakes from a short nap.
The memories slip farther and farther behind. Back to a time where I hold no memories. They are her escape, her youth, her memories. She now resides in the time she was Maggie Jiggs her nickname growing up. "I didn't know my name was Mary until I started school," she says. "They called me Maggie because I was so ugly." I can't imagine my mother ever being ugly. To me she has always been beautiful; perfectly turned out; perfectly proper. Ugly, I can't bring up an image of her that matches that description.
She is now, and always will be, my beautiful, proper, perfect Mom. Afterall, she is 96 years old. She can't be expected to remember everything, can she?
No more beating of my breast while screaming at the heavens asking WHY?. There is no answer to that question; so I've stop asking it. This is not going away. My life will never be the same again and simply by accepting this I have stopped the downward spiral over the cliff. Mama has Alzheimer's. She is slowly slipping away before my eyes. I can't bring her back.
Tomorrow will be sadder than today, and the next and the next. I can't change it. I am trying to live with it. I can't understand it. I am accepting it; daily, I accept it over and over again. Now, I treasure each segment in time that holds a light in her eyes and a shared memory.
She fights to hang onto herself and is frightened to find that she is losing her battle. She makes notes and lists and tries to make sure she is not "crazy". "Crazy" is her explanation for the lost minutes that just happened and the puzzle solving process of what day it is. She knows something is wrong and can't keep straight who called, what happened yesterday, last week, what she had for lunch and if she slept well. "I wake up in a new world every day," is one of her favorite expressions. Now she adds that she wakes up in a new world when she wakes from a short nap.
The memories slip farther and farther behind. Back to a time where I hold no memories. They are her escape, her youth, her memories. She now resides in the time she was Maggie Jiggs her nickname growing up. "I didn't know my name was Mary until I started school," she says. "They called me Maggie because I was so ugly." I can't imagine my mother ever being ugly. To me she has always been beautiful; perfectly turned out; perfectly proper. Ugly, I can't bring up an image of her that matches that description.
She is now, and always will be, my beautiful, proper, perfect Mom. Afterall, she is 96 years old. She can't be expected to remember everything, can she?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A Well Nigh Perfect Day!
I hadn't planned to make it so memorable. As a matter of fact I would have preferred staying home and wasting time playing Majohng or something else as useless yet enjoyable. But I had promised. And the weather wasn't awful. The roads were clearing up. So.............
I picked Mom up for lunch and we drove by the bank to get her some folding money for her wallet so she'd have something she could spend. We headed to Wendys (her favorite place to dine, probably) for baked potatoes and chili. I had finished up my food and was cleaning up the table when I decided that what I really needed was a frosty. I told Mom, "I'm going to get a frosty. Do you want one." Now Mom had been cold during the time we had been there and she said "No. I'm already cold. I don't want something cold to eat. I already have this cold drink to drink." (aside. I had been trying to go up and get her a cup of coffee but she refused. She said she would have to throw out her soda if she got coffee and that would not be right.)I told her I would have gotten her one of the really small ones (frostys). She thought about it for half a second and said, "Well, that would be alright then. I'm drinking this cold drink. I guess I can eat that much cold ice cream." So. I went off to get in line to buy us both frostys.
Frosty. Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. That in itself would make a day memorable. Even if nothing else good happened. BUT!
After we finished our frostys, still unfrozen, despite the cold treat, we decided to head across the street to K-Mart. One of Mom's favorite phrases when describing her life is "I never get to go shopping." But today, that was changing; we headed to K-Mart. Perfect. Sales. Mom picked out a pair of black slacks and a bright pink (she called it rose) sweater. About that time we ran into an old acquaintance (one from the Assembly from days gone by) Charles Zuck. We chatted a bit and then headed for the check out.
I wasn't buying anything, but when Mom got to the checkout she had forgotten our stop earlier at the bank. I reminded her that she had an envelope in her purse w/cash inside. She looked and sure enough she did. She exclaimed, "Well, when you get to be 100 you forget a few things." At which point I burst out laughing, while reminding her she wasn't a centenarian yet.
I told Mom as we were driving back to Albion, I believed she had a perfect day. "How so?" she asked.
Well..
We ate in her favorite restaurant, Wendys (I guess it's her favorite).
Shopped in her favorite store, K-Mart (actually 2nd favorite. Sears would be her favorite...but they're affiliated now, so same thing. Right?)
Did her favorite thing. Got seen by a friend and visited for a bit.
Yes perfect. And the frosty. That's just icing on the cake.
I picked Mom up for lunch and we drove by the bank to get her some folding money for her wallet so she'd have something she could spend. We headed to Wendys (her favorite place to dine, probably) for baked potatoes and chili. I had finished up my food and was cleaning up the table when I decided that what I really needed was a frosty. I told Mom, "I'm going to get a frosty. Do you want one." Now Mom had been cold during the time we had been there and she said "No. I'm already cold. I don't want something cold to eat. I already have this cold drink to drink." (aside. I had been trying to go up and get her a cup of coffee but she refused. She said she would have to throw out her soda if she got coffee and that would not be right.)I told her I would have gotten her one of the really small ones (frostys). She thought about it for half a second and said, "Well, that would be alright then. I'm drinking this cold drink. I guess I can eat that much cold ice cream." So. I went off to get in line to buy us both frostys.
Frosty. Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. That in itself would make a day memorable. Even if nothing else good happened. BUT!
After we finished our frostys, still unfrozen, despite the cold treat, we decided to head across the street to K-Mart. One of Mom's favorite phrases when describing her life is "I never get to go shopping." But today, that was changing; we headed to K-Mart. Perfect. Sales. Mom picked out a pair of black slacks and a bright pink (she called it rose) sweater. About that time we ran into an old acquaintance (one from the Assembly from days gone by) Charles Zuck. We chatted a bit and then headed for the check out.
I wasn't buying anything, but when Mom got to the checkout she had forgotten our stop earlier at the bank. I reminded her that she had an envelope in her purse w/cash inside. She looked and sure enough she did. She exclaimed, "Well, when you get to be 100 you forget a few things." At which point I burst out laughing, while reminding her she wasn't a centenarian yet.
I told Mom as we were driving back to Albion, I believed she had a perfect day. "How so?" she asked.
Well..
We ate in her favorite restaurant, Wendys (I guess it's her favorite).
Shopped in her favorite store, K-Mart (actually 2nd favorite. Sears would be her favorite...but they're affiliated now, so same thing. Right?)
Did her favorite thing. Got seen by a friend and visited for a bit.
Yes perfect. And the frosty. That's just icing on the cake.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Years ago, when Jamelah was still small, we began making our own nativity scene. A ceramics store downtown provided the figures. We talked it over, picked out how we wanted our scene to look, we painted them up, took them back and they fired them for us. We began with the 3 central figures; Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus. Each year we would add another figure or 2 depending on what we could afford. We watched our nativity grow each year.
The store went of business but we found another place in the town next door and continued to grow our nativity. We took in a couple of our figures to try and match their stock and was able to get a couple more figurines but that was all and that was the last year we kept that tradition. However, our scene was pretty much completed. We had wanted to purchase a few more pieces (the animals, sheep and whatnot) but the last pieces we bought we not on the same scale and our animals are a bit large, noticeable, but OK.
This year, Christmas caught us unprepared. With our schedules being packed and spending a lot of time at Mom's, somehow our tree just did not get put up. It just doesn't look anything like Christmas at our house, but our neighbors more than make up for it.
Wednesday I decided I had to do something, even if it would not be very much. I strung clear LED lights around our herb garden pots. Cleared off the stop shelf of our bookcase to make way for the things regularly kept on our end table, and set up our nativity in its regular spot. Now it feels like Christmas. The rest of the house may look sadly lacking in Christmas cheer but this tradition is in place. On Christmas morning we will shoo Sweet Pea off the couch (which she owns) and read the Christmas story from Luke. Then we will thank God for the greatest gift ever given and it will truly be Christmas.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Things I'll Miss About Working...
Miss? Surely there's something. Like...
1. The ride to work each morning. It's true. It's a 5 minute drive. Not much huh! But, there is this place on my street that I pass that often makes me gasp. There once was an old factory there which closed. It was torn down by the DNR and the site cleaned up. Now pronouced safe, the city uses it as a soccer field. So it's wide open and looking east each morning I have a new view, unobliterated, of the sky. I'm a sky girl. And right now the timing is perfect. The sun is tinting everything golden and the clouds are tinged in pink. I love this time of day, I love this spot.
2. Coffee. Java Peak is the brand sold by the local gas station and I stop there for my morning caffeine fix. Large coffee (24 oz) with half-n-half. The same people are usually there each morning and we are familiar strangers. We do a corregrpahed dance around each other as we fill our paper cups from the spigots of hot brew. We all seem in good moods although our comments mention the fact that it is still too early to call this a "Good morning!". We complain about the weather, usually, because this is Michigan. Mary and Arlene have been the crew at this station for a long time. Everyting moves smoothly, until some idiot wants to spend his weekly income on lottery tickets, then we all grumble and shift our weight from foot to foot as the checkout line lengthens. I will NEVER buy lottery tickets in the morning at the gas station. That is just rude and inconsiderate. Most people know this. Usually it is a quick in and out. I have perfectly good coffee at home so I don't suppose I'll feel the need to run for a cup in the mornings. But, maybe, once in a while, I'll have to go. Just for that feel of morning commaradierie with my fellow coffee buyers at the gas station.
3. The view from my window. My office is now on the top floor of City Hall. Due to a water problem in the basement we were moved up this summer. The ceiling height in my office is at least 14 ft tall. My windows are 7 ft high. and probably at probably 5 ft wide. Have a mentioned that I am a sky lady. My desk faces the window. I had to close the blind half way because the light flooding in was blinding me. But I have to face it. I have to. You know the glare would make my computer screen completely unreadable. I get lost sometimes sitting here staring out my window. I'm doing it now as I type this. It's a partly cloudy day and the sky stretches on forever and the clouds are fleeing past my window, moving eastward. It's beautiful. It's beautiful now with the rising sun adding golden hi-lights to everything. It's beautiful any time of the day. During weather the mouting clouds climbing mile high are breathtaking to watch. Sometimes I just get lost in ooking out my window the the sky dancing in from of me. It is awesome.
4. Sandee. I love her. She is the secretary to the City Manager and the Director of Human Resources. She is remarkable. She can always make me laugh. And we delight in playing jokes on each other by any means available. She's a great listener. She's good people. She'll be my friend when I leave here, but I shall miss her dopping in to my office for a minute or me sitting in her office just chatting about stuff.
and... I stopped here. I stopped because I would finish this later. It didn't happen. From experience I will say I miss all of the above, probably. We recently had the Christmas potluck and I attended. Soon all conversation turned to work and I was not "in the know". I found myself grinning. It was OK. No more stress about the daily occurrances. I miss it. I miss it. Maybe... once in a while, I think about it. But mostly when I look out my window from home and see the snow covering everything, I don't miss it at all. Welcome to the now, Anne. It is a good place to be.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Goodbye City Hall! I shall miss you.
So... I should be blogging all the time now. But, I always feel too busy. That may have something to do with becoming addicted to Facebook games (Mafia Wars and Farmtown). But, as luck would have it I am getting bored with that entire boogity boo business. Not to the point where I am ready to quit, but I find 30 minutes a day pretty much does it. So, now what.
Well, I am retiring... yes... again! My last day to work is October 30. I don't know what I will do for income because that lost paycheck is really going to hurt. Well, life is, if not anything else, an adventure. So, perhaps I will just enjoy the adventures of it all.
I have asked to teach a Bible Class at the church and it looks like this may happen when the timing comes together.
Also, I'm looking at doing some volunteering. I really think I have to give back some way. My mom worked as a volunteer in our community for as long as she was physically able. She was a volunteer at the hospital until they closed the doors. She also worked at the blood drives for years. She set an excellent example and I want to follow the pattern she set. We have a food pantry at our church that distributes food once a month and they are looking for volunteers. I am sure I can find some place to fit in there or somewhere.
Anyway, tomorrow is my last day to work. Yep! That's right. tomorrow is my last day. hee, hee, hee.
Well, I am retiring... yes... again! My last day to work is October 30. I don't know what I will do for income because that lost paycheck is really going to hurt. Well, life is, if not anything else, an adventure. So, perhaps I will just enjoy the adventures of it all.
I have asked to teach a Bible Class at the church and it looks like this may happen when the timing comes together.
Also, I'm looking at doing some volunteering. I really think I have to give back some way. My mom worked as a volunteer in our community for as long as she was physically able. She was a volunteer at the hospital until they closed the doors. She also worked at the blood drives for years. She set an excellent example and I want to follow the pattern she set. We have a food pantry at our church that distributes food once a month and they are looking for volunteers. I am sure I can find some place to fit in there or somewhere.
Anyway, tomorrow is my last day to work. Yep! That's right. tomorrow is my last day. hee, hee, hee.
So, goodbye City Hall. I shall miss you. Really! I shall.
Friday, April 03, 2009
My Mind Is Made Up
I'm going to retire. Again! Yes, Again! This time for keeps.
The last time I left my job I hung on working part-time. When, due to budget cuts, the part-time job ended, I worked part-time as the secretary for my church. It was essential to make my monthly budget to have more income. This time, well, nothing has actually changed, except by working I have increased my monthly donation from Social Security, I actually think I can swing it without working. That's my plan, anyway.
I can't imagine it. Not getting up every day and slouching off to the daily grind with a quick stop for coffee on the way in. This winter did me in. I decided that I was not getting up in the cold anymore and cleaning off a car just because I HAD to be somewhere besides home drinking my coffee. Coffee from a coffee spot is great, but it's not like I can't make coffee just as good right at home. Yes, before the year is out I shall plan to make and drink coffee home and enjoy it even more.
Are you wondering just when. My hope is to work through the month of September. Of course, I'm not adverse to stopping prior to that date. I am currently training my assistant to take over my job duties and by then we should have completed the annual cycle. After that she will be on her own. She's a very bright assistant and I know she will have not problem with this job. In fact, she is pretty much perfect for it.
So that's that. I find I am already thinking I won't be here much longer and this time I'm not coming back except for those special events where they invite the retirees.
It's gonna be great. I'm making a list of things I want to do.
* Take pictures of stuff I love
* Sew. I bought a brand new machine which I have had for a year. I took a class to learn how to use it. I haven't even mended anything since the class nor made anything, nor anything else. But soon I'm going to sew... again. I loved the creative process. I hope I can still do it.
* Clean my house. Oh yes! That will be fun.
* Ministry. I want to become involved in some type ministry. I'm thinking about what it will be. Just want to make sure it is the Lord and not me whispering in my ear.
* Stress out less.
* Watch the snow from my window, not from my car.
* Do more with my Mom. Now I visit her daily, but I want to spend more time with her.
* Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy!
The last time I left my job I hung on working part-time. When, due to budget cuts, the part-time job ended, I worked part-time as the secretary for my church. It was essential to make my monthly budget to have more income. This time, well, nothing has actually changed, except by working I have increased my monthly donation from Social Security, I actually think I can swing it without working. That's my plan, anyway.
I can't imagine it. Not getting up every day and slouching off to the daily grind with a quick stop for coffee on the way in. This winter did me in. I decided that I was not getting up in the cold anymore and cleaning off a car just because I HAD to be somewhere besides home drinking my coffee. Coffee from a coffee spot is great, but it's not like I can't make coffee just as good right at home. Yes, before the year is out I shall plan to make and drink coffee home and enjoy it even more.
Are you wondering just when. My hope is to work through the month of September. Of course, I'm not adverse to stopping prior to that date. I am currently training my assistant to take over my job duties and by then we should have completed the annual cycle. After that she will be on her own. She's a very bright assistant and I know she will have not problem with this job. In fact, she is pretty much perfect for it.
So that's that. I find I am already thinking I won't be here much longer and this time I'm not coming back except for those special events where they invite the retirees.
It's gonna be great. I'm making a list of things I want to do.
* Take pictures of stuff I love
* Sew. I bought a brand new machine which I have had for a year. I took a class to learn how to use it. I haven't even mended anything since the class nor made anything, nor anything else. But soon I'm going to sew... again. I loved the creative process. I hope I can still do it.
* Clean my house. Oh yes! That will be fun.
* Ministry. I want to become involved in some type ministry. I'm thinking about what it will be. Just want to make sure it is the Lord and not me whispering in my ear.
* Stress out less.
* Watch the snow from my window, not from my car.
* Do more with my Mom. Now I visit her daily, but I want to spend more time with her.
* Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
I could have put my eye out!
Winter seems a savage beast this year as the snaggletoothed icicles hanging from the front of the house give credence that all of nature is out to get us. I moan when even a few more flakes of snow flutter downward. I gasp when the cold northwest wind eats my face when I step out the door. I shiver under blankets trying to keep the chill out of my bones and wonder if I am really cold or just feel that way because I know the wind chill outside is a negative 20 degrees. I think this should all be preserved someway. I should be taking pictures and posting them but I can't stand the idea of standing still in the cold long enough to snap a picture.
I curse the elements when I begin the futile task of removing snow from my car as one side of the windshield fills up with snow by the time I get the other side cleared. It is hopeless. This winter seems colder and grayer and gloomier and sadder than all the superlatives you can associate with weather rolled into one long, bleak, bad winter day. These days are shorter, the nights darker, tempers flare more quickly. Will it ever end?
But in some moment, and it should really be captured, the sun refracts from the icicles hanging outside my window. I go to see the soft white of fresh snow covering all the mistakes of ugly gray slush and I seem to have stepped out of time. This moment is perfect beauty. I smile, grab my camera and try to catch this instant, knowing full well, even so, I could lose an eye. Those things do happen, you know.
I curse the elements when I begin the futile task of removing snow from my car as one side of the windshield fills up with snow by the time I get the other side cleared. It is hopeless. This winter seems colder and grayer and gloomier and sadder than all the superlatives you can associate with weather rolled into one long, bleak, bad winter day. These days are shorter, the nights darker, tempers flare more quickly. Will it ever end?
But in some moment, and it should really be captured, the sun refracts from the icicles hanging outside my window. I go to see the soft white of fresh snow covering all the mistakes of ugly gray slush and I seem to have stepped out of time. This moment is perfect beauty. I smile, grab my camera and try to catch this instant, knowing full well, even so, I could lose an eye. Those things do happen, you know.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
11 below zero morning
This is what 11 below zero looks like. Nothing describes what it feels like. Nothing explains the cutting chill of trying to warm a vehicle up so you can endure the short drive to work. Eeeegads! What if I had to walk. I know what I know. I know I hate winter. I know this is the last winter I will do this. At least that's what I think I know.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
It seems the only thing I am passionate about this winter is the weather. I can't stand that every time I converse with someone I am usually talking about work or about how hard it is to get to work. It's not news to anyone that Michigan is cold in the winter. It isn't news to me either. It is not news to anyone who knows me that I complain a lot in the winter about how cold it is.
But this winter is abominable. Really abominable. So far they report that we have received 26 inches more snow already this year than we typically get in an entire winter season. Maybe that means winter is done. It did its meanest to us and now it is all wintered out. I hope so. I know for dang sure that I'm all wintered out.
But we're only half way through the winter. If we get as much snow the rest of the season as we have gotten so far we will definitely not only be ahead of the average we will be breaking records. Anyway, that's what I'm thinking.
I don't want to break any records. I want it to end. Now! Today.
It looks good outside. The weatherman said it would climb above freezing today and although it hasn't made it yet, I'm still optimistic. It is 28 degrees. That's like balmy considering we've been having sub zero temps and wind chills. The sun is even shining. Just 4 degrees warmer and these mountains of white gook could melt before they turned nasty brown.
I'm hoping. I'm hoping. At least today maybe it will feel like like we do not live in the Tundra. And soon, if I make it through the next 2 months, then it really will be spring. I can hardly wait for flowers and butterflies and warm sun on my face. I can hardly wait.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
But this winter is abominable. Really abominable. So far they report that we have received 26 inches more snow already this year than we typically get in an entire winter season. Maybe that means winter is done. It did its meanest to us and now it is all wintered out. I hope so. I know for dang sure that I'm all wintered out.
But we're only half way through the winter. If we get as much snow the rest of the season as we have gotten so far we will definitely not only be ahead of the average we will be breaking records. Anyway, that's what I'm thinking.
I don't want to break any records. I want it to end. Now! Today.
It looks good outside. The weatherman said it would climb above freezing today and although it hasn't made it yet, I'm still optimistic. It is 28 degrees. That's like balmy considering we've been having sub zero temps and wind chills. The sun is even shining. Just 4 degrees warmer and these mountains of white gook could melt before they turned nasty brown.
I'm hoping. I'm hoping. At least today maybe it will feel like like we do not live in the Tundra. And soon, if I make it through the next 2 months, then it really will be spring. I can hardly wait for flowers and butterflies and warm sun on my face. I can hardly wait.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
a slippery slope
Slippery slope, indeed. Isn't all of life one?
It's morning again. It's morning and it is winter and it is cold and it is snowing and i have to go to work and i have to take the dog out and i am running late. Yeah, like that. It's morning again.
I round up Sweet Pea. The easiest part of the ordeal. She comes circling as soon as I start sliding my arms into my coat. How does she know? Then the circling begins. It is some kind of morning dance we do. Me trying to get to the back door and her making sure that I take her with me when I walk out it. Somehow we manage to do exactly that. Get out the back door without me tripping over her form circling repeatedly around my legs. I hitch her to her tree (with a 25 ft leed. Trust me this is not cruelty. This dog is an escape artist and this is our ONLY option) then head for the drive and my car.
I stand in front of it. Why am I perplexed. Of course it's covered with snow. This IS Michigan, and it's morning and i have to get to work and it just wouldn't be right if i didn't have to clean the white stuff that fell during the night off my car so i could do that. I unlock the car and start the engine. Pull the broom out of the back seat (it's much faster than an ice scraper/brush) and start to work on the top of the car. It's not too bad, some days it is really piled high. Then I feel it; my feet are sliding (we live on a hill). I grab the handle to the back door and catch myself from sliding all the way down the drive and out into the street. And in this awkward position I continue; holding on to the door handle with one hand, sweeping snow off the car with the other.
Once I finish all I can reach while hanging on to the rear door handle, I have to figure out how to navigate the rest of the car. I manage. Afterall I have been living in Michigan a very, very long time. And in this house on the hill... a long time. So, that's done.
I head back to the rear yard and gather up the dog who is always excited to see me. I don't know why either, but I strongly suspect it has something to do with the treat she knows is coming once we get back into the house.
I'm running late. I grab a baggie and fill it with cheerios and pour a little milk into a sealed plastic bowl and head out the door. The defroster has done a good job, the windshield is clear. The walk into the building from the parking lot across the street is a bit slicky but soon I am inside my office. I set breakfast on my desk, go to the front office and take off my coat and manage to get distracted only slightly before heading for my desk. Afterall, breakfast is waiting.
My computer is booting up and I turn to the task of eating. To my surprise I see that I have milk all over my desk. No way! Yes. That's milk. I clean up the mess. Look at my empty cereal bowl (all the milk leaked out with the lid still sealed, or appearing to be sealed) and my bag of dry cheerios. Oh well, I dump the cherrios into the bowl, pick up the spoon and sit down to a great breakfast.
I must add that at lunch when I reached into my purse I found everything wet. I was sure I had not pushed snow into my purse while getting in to my car (I have done that before), so I couldn't figure it out. Then my brain started working and I realized it was wet with milk. In fact everything was wet with milk. I had to dump everything in my purse out. Turn it inside out and set it in front of my air filter to dry. Then wash everything off. Especially the wayward change that collects in the bottom of my purse.
Glad Ware indeed. That bowl was certainly misnamed.
It's morning again. It's morning and it is winter and it is cold and it is snowing and i have to go to work and i have to take the dog out and i am running late. Yeah, like that. It's morning again.
I round up Sweet Pea. The easiest part of the ordeal. She comes circling as soon as I start sliding my arms into my coat. How does she know? Then the circling begins. It is some kind of morning dance we do. Me trying to get to the back door and her making sure that I take her with me when I walk out it. Somehow we manage to do exactly that. Get out the back door without me tripping over her form circling repeatedly around my legs. I hitch her to her tree (with a 25 ft leed. Trust me this is not cruelty. This dog is an escape artist and this is our ONLY option) then head for the drive and my car.
I stand in front of it. Why am I perplexed. Of course it's covered with snow. This IS Michigan, and it's morning and i have to get to work and it just wouldn't be right if i didn't have to clean the white stuff that fell during the night off my car so i could do that. I unlock the car and start the engine. Pull the broom out of the back seat (it's much faster than an ice scraper/brush) and start to work on the top of the car. It's not too bad, some days it is really piled high. Then I feel it; my feet are sliding (we live on a hill). I grab the handle to the back door and catch myself from sliding all the way down the drive and out into the street. And in this awkward position I continue; holding on to the door handle with one hand, sweeping snow off the car with the other.
Once I finish all I can reach while hanging on to the rear door handle, I have to figure out how to navigate the rest of the car. I manage. Afterall I have been living in Michigan a very, very long time. And in this house on the hill... a long time. So, that's done.
I head back to the rear yard and gather up the dog who is always excited to see me. I don't know why either, but I strongly suspect it has something to do with the treat she knows is coming once we get back into the house.
I'm running late. I grab a baggie and fill it with cheerios and pour a little milk into a sealed plastic bowl and head out the door. The defroster has done a good job, the windshield is clear. The walk into the building from the parking lot across the street is a bit slicky but soon I am inside my office. I set breakfast on my desk, go to the front office and take off my coat and manage to get distracted only slightly before heading for my desk. Afterall, breakfast is waiting.
My computer is booting up and I turn to the task of eating. To my surprise I see that I have milk all over my desk. No way! Yes. That's milk. I clean up the mess. Look at my empty cereal bowl (all the milk leaked out with the lid still sealed, or appearing to be sealed) and my bag of dry cheerios. Oh well, I dump the cherrios into the bowl, pick up the spoon and sit down to a great breakfast.
I must add that at lunch when I reached into my purse I found everything wet. I was sure I had not pushed snow into my purse while getting in to my car (I have done that before), so I couldn't figure it out. Then my brain started working and I realized it was wet with milk. In fact everything was wet with milk. I had to dump everything in my purse out. Turn it inside out and set it in front of my air filter to dry. Then wash everything off. Especially the wayward change that collects in the bottom of my purse.
Glad Ware indeed. That bowl was certainly misnamed.
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