Patti's Grace Notes

365 Walks-Day 211 - 215/Get What You Always Got

If You Always Do What You've Always Done, You'll Always Get What You Always Got!

My son and I were driving together recently and we were trying to remember the exact phrasing of the above quote. It came abruptly back to me just last night. Its been attributed to several people and I'm certain many have borrowed it and altered it along the way. It's a good one.

OHhh, terrible! I am getting so lazy - not about walking, but about writing. The sad part is that's what's supposed to be the point of all of this. I have no excuses, I just feel sort of wiped out - kind of a post reaction to all the recent stresses, I think. Whatever the case, I had a little pep talk with myself and have moved beyond (I hope).

My last few walks have kept me in the general area of my hometown, but with a few variations. I've been in my neighborhood, in my little downtown area, at the marina, and on the railroad tracks. My head is abuzz with thoughts as I walk (a little schizophrenic?) and I know I should have pen in hand but I don't. That would feel a bit like editing while I talk and Lord knows that will never happen. The next best then would be to jot it down as soon as I get home but, as I stated, I'm just tired. 

As I usually do in these slumps I turn inward both intellectually and spiritually. I pray for the strength to "pick myself up" and the courage to remember "this" is not all about me. Then I begin a regimen of renewal. This involves: a) Getting proper sleep - "Walk away from the computer! Turn off the TV!" b) Eating something other than sugar and carbs - "Yes I know the pick-me-up is immediate, but the crash is painful". c) Stimulating my brain - I repeat, "Turn off the TV." d) Meditate - in all the many forms. e) Exercise - "Come on! That wasn't a REAL walk!" So, as you can see - I have some real work ahead of me. ~sigh~

A couple of days ago Rufus and I were walking near our home in the early evening when a young, skinny, wild-looking coyote ran out in front of us. He(?) zigzagged across the road and back, behind us, a few times and disappeared into the bushes. A couple of people, putting out their garbage cans, looked up with the same stunned expression that I'm sure I wore. Rufus was in hyper-alert mode and also seemed taken off guard. Once he snapped out of it he pulled me over to the place we last sighted the mongrel and began to bark. Yeah, right, Rufus - you're all about bravery now! It sort of reminded me of high school students who are intrigued by the new kid, but don't quite know how to approach him. The moment any kind of vulnerability is shown, especially if they look different to begin with, it's time to pounce! 

My immediate reaction was to feel sorry for this wild animal - wiry, lithe, and running helter-skelter, probably looking for it's next meal. I'm quite certain it was no accident that he revealed himself so blatantly the evening before garbage pick up. I lovingly looked down at overweight Rufus pulling on his leash while on his allotted 20 min walk. I had a sudden and intense realization about all the "poor souls" that garner my sympathy in this great wide world of ours and fleetingly thought, "Who should feel sorry for whom?" How pompous I can be at times.

 

Last evening I was by myself watering the plants of a dear friend while she is away on vacation. I sat on her front deck and enjoyed the majestic view and read for awhile until I'd nearly flooded her planters. The sun was close to dipping behind the Olympics and it was a time for quiet reflection. The waterfront is so near that I could hear the waves gently splashing on the beach below the railroad tracks. I suddenly changed my plan of walking down the road (which used to be an ancient neighborhood of ours) and instead making it down to the beach while it was still light. I found the access gate nearly hidden in the bushes and walked down the steps to the railroad tracks. As I crossed the twin tracks I could see that the tide was all the way up to the retaining rock wall and there'd be no beach walk in my immediate future.

 I looked to my right and then to my left as the empty train tracks stretched in both directions. In a instant I was 21 again and living on Day Island near the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. I lived in an old rickety house with two other classmates in our last year of nursing school. One end of the island was attached to the mainland only by railroad tracks. It's a wonder that none of us were ever killed or seriously maimed considering the amount of time we spent on and around those railroad ties. One of our favorite adventures was to walk down them in the early evening, passing around a wine skin filled with some kind of "rot gut" (hope my kids don't read this) until we could hear the rails start to sing. We were usually warned of this by a distant thunder way off down the sound and then we could glimpse the cars dipping in and out of the coves coming up the coastline. Not too far from our island was the "Big Bend" and if you hurried you could plaster yourself up against the rock wall just before the train BURST around the corner arching concavely! It was at that moment that blood curdling screams would emit, involuntarily, from our chests as if taken by surprise instead of waiting in titillating anticipation. What a thrill it was! Like, I said - it just wasn't our time.

 

I thought about this and just life in general as I walked up the tracks in the warm glow of a mid-summer sunset. All of my youthful bravado was mercifully gone as I kept one eye peeled in each direction and even knelt down to place an ear on the rail (we found out on Day Island that it works). Any sadness at the loss of my adventurous self was replaced by the happiness that I can still fold myself down flat against the gravel and get back up again. What can I say - it's a trade off. No train passed that evening - I'm not sure my heart could have taken it, but I did enjoy my irregular gaited (one stride is too long for the space between ties and too short for two, sigh) trek down memory (dare I say) track. I reintroduced me to my old self and made some new resolutions. I love that I can count on myself to be my own cheerleader and know that while I kick my own butt, I can gently hug what God has made - in all of us. Acceptance is a glorious thing!

Yes, it may be an excuse to say that a few days rest from writing gives me a little more fuel for my effort - it's just a thought. I hope it's worth it....the effort that is. Now, I need a nap~

365 Walks-Day 209 & 210/Liberi Abbracci

Sometimes inspiration hits me over the head in an obvious way, like our son (he doesn't really hit me on the head, well not often anyway) but occasionally it comes in other ways, like in an email for example. A friend of ours sent me the above video recently and not only did I love it, but it gave me an idea - not an altogether comfortable one. 

Anyone who knows me can attest that I am a born hugger. I'm not the best one by far; I've received some world class hugs in my time - but I'll go in for a clutch sooner than offer a hand. One has to be somewhat sensitive these days because not everyone is receptive - it does require an ability to make a quick assessment. Sometimes I'm wrong, but that's okay, I'm willing to risk it. This usually involves people that I know or at the very least have made an introduction. I set out on my walk, yesterday, with an agenda.

I love this little video for many reasons. This harmless gesture requires minimal effort, moderate discomfort (at first) and maximum benefit (for the most part). Did you notice the response of most of the people once they'd accepted and reciprocated the hug? Once lady even skipped for a second. I wanted to experiment with this. I'm not shy, I love to hug - how difficult could it be to offer some free hugs to complete strangers? I decided to find out. I took Rufus along for moral support.

I had an errand to take me to our little town (not downtown, Seattle. For some reason I think that would have been easier - weird people are expected). I parked the car and let Rufus out. I was strangely nervous. I think the older I get, doing things outside my comfort zone is more difficult - all the more reason to challenge myself. I was on a time limit so that worked to my advantage to get me moving. I imagined myself getting back into the car having fulfilled my mission and I wondered how I'd feel, how successful I'd be - silly girl, get on with it. Okay, I can do this.

The first one was easy. I had a transaction to complete for something my sister-in-law ordered when she was visiting us last month. The woman had gone to some trouble for us so when all was finished I asked her if I could give her a hug to thank her. Her whole face changed! I walked around the counter and opened my arms and I could tell she was a first class embracer. She had one of those earthy, bosomy bodies that felt like falling into a down comforter, not my bony-backed, spindly-armed kind of hug. "Thank-you", she said. "That was so nice!"

Well that wasn't so bad. I walked on down the block, encouraged, looking for my next victim. Then I saw her: youngish, slim, casually elegant in a velor jogging suit, dark hair pulled back, wearing large sunglasses and a grim expression. She seemed to scream "Don't touch me!" So I didn't - barely let the thought cross my mind. I immediately regretted it - I think she needed it more than anyone. Even if she had refused, I think the offer would have warmed her. Next time?

That's okay, champ, don't get discouraged - this is just a test. I bravely moved forward. Rufus was busy skimming his tongue across each water bowl that was provided by EVERY single retailer we passed. What a gimmick! The next woman in my path was older and more cheerful. She was a little oblivious with her mind seemingly on other things, but there was something approachable about her. "Excuse me - my dog and I are offering free hugs today. Could I interest you in one?" She looked a little startled, but much to her credit she smiled and said, "Why yes. I'll take one from you anyway." We had a nice, quick hug and I then demonstrated how Rufus gives a full-body, gentle hug when I tap my own shoulders. She gave a hearty laugh and we both wished each other a nice day.

I had just enough time for a Starbuck's stop - whoa, a tough crowd! Not so much, as it turned out. I had just finished tying Rufus up at the outside bench when I spotted an elderly woman struggling, with her walker, to stand up near an outside table. Her thin, gray hair clung to her aged-speckled head and her ravaged, bruised arms reminded me of my own sweetie-pie as she finally found her balance. "Could I interest you in a free hug?" "Eh? What's that?" she yelled. I moved in closer to her ear and loudly repeated my request. She giggled uncertainly and then, God love her, she wrapped those loose skinned limbs around me so tight I had trouble breathing. "Oh, oh, oh," she murmured, "Thank You!" "I thank you!" I replied. Then, "Would your dog like a free dog biscuit?", her slightly younger companion offered? Imagine - they upstaged me! That's one I'll have to try next time. I immediately fetched Rufus and brought him over to do his hug trick (on me of course) and then politely wait to accept the doggie treat when it was offered. By then we'd attracted a bit of a crowd, mostly young kids wanting to pet Rufus and see his "warm embrace" hysterically laughing the whole time. I manged to sneak in a few little kid hugs, as well.

By the time I retied Rufus outside and made my way to the coffee line inside, I was feeling pretty damned proud of myself. As I waited for my turn I felt strangely unsatisfied as though I hadn't really tested my boundaries enough. I hadn't approached a man - a bespeckled five year old didn't count. I collected my drink and acknowledged I was running out of time, I had to head back home. Then it happened - the Holy Grail! He was young, handsome, and completely engaged with his laptop and the blue tooth in his ear. He was of a fine figure and dressed in a business suit - oh, and did I mention that he was African American? I say this to illustrated that he was my complete and total opposite in every way and while my brain was screaming, "are you fricken crazy???" my body had already moved in for the kill. Not only did I have to scootch into the booth where he was sitting, clearly to be undisturbed, but he was clutching something crumbly and his mouth was full. Did that stop me??? Uh-uh...nope, not on your life, because all logic had disassociated itself from my motor skills. "Hi there, I'm giving out free hugs today and was wondering if you'd like one?" Mother of God help me!!! I'd totally lost it. He only blinked a couple of times before the pearly whites flashed and he stood dusting off his fingers and choking down his last bite. "Sure, why not!" Flustered, it was then that I said it! "Well it was either me or my chocolate lab outside". MY CHOCOLATE lab....holy shit, did that just fall out of my mouth!??!! Will somebody please just get me out of here??? Who knows what went through that poor man's mind, but he had the grace to wish me a "nice day"....or some such thing - probably a good life with lots of help. Well, I did it! I lived through it and made it back outside to Rufus who was still fondly looking over at the "free doggie treat" ladies. We stopped by for a second course and by then we were all just in love with life. It was truly more fun than I've had in a long time.

I made it back home in just enough time to see my boy friend off for an afternoon doctor appointment. He was just about to leave when I caught him by the front door. "How about a hug, sailor?" He put one arm around me and gave the usual cautious "corporate" hug we've come accustomed to due to his cane toting and multiple blue marks. "Sorry fella, that's not going to cut it" I declared as I put the cane aside and gently folded myself against his frail frame. It felt so good, it felt so complete - it felt like home.

Not an earth shattering, life changing experiment, but a worthwhile one, I think. I challenge each of you to try it, maybe not like I did, but with those you know and love. Let me know how it goes. For some of us it is more difficult than others, but I promise you won't be disappointed....not in the long run, anyway - not where it counts.

There are so many Wonderful Hugs. Here are just a few: Loving Hugs ~ Father-Daughter Hugs ~ Girlfriend Hugs ~ Special People Hugs ~ Old Classmate Hugs ~ Colleague Hugs ~ Congratulations Hugs ~ Sister Hugs ~ Till I See You Again Hugs ~ Auntie Hugs ~ Twin Sibling Hugs ~ We've Made it and We're Still Here Hugs ~ Hello and Farewell Hugs~ I've Got a Wonderful Secret Hugs ~...oh yeah, and Rufus Hugs~

 
 
 

   

           
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
  

365 Walks-Day 207 & 208/Never Having to Say I'm Sari

Somewhere in the middle of all of the craziness I passed the 200th walk mark! Wow, if I do say so myself - no small fete! I won't celebrate too early, still a way to go before we pull out the champagne and confetti. I'm enjoying the walks in the neighborhood with my pooches even though I'm still limping a little. We generally go later in the evening on these warm days and it's been fun to greet the regulars who are strolling at about the same hour. I even bumped into an old friend I haven't seen in a while. I recognized her dog before I realized who she was. I've got to get out more.

One lady I see regularly is quite intriguing. She's a rather stately woman and is obviously east Indian. The family must live in the area because I've seen a young woman jogging occasionally and this more mature woman pushing a baby carriage on occasion, but mostly walking a rather unruly dog. Maybe she's the grandma or whatever they call them in that part of the world. I don't want to make too many assumptions, but my imagination does get the better of me. I could ask her, I guess, but we haven't gotten beyond nodding to each other. At least I smile. She is older and has the classic long, dark hair, and often wears the traditional Sari/Saree. In the winter her head is covered with a filmy scarf and she wears a warm coat that covers her finery, but in the summer she dresses in a variety of colorful Salwar Kameez, (I think that's what they're called. She could be Pakistani) that appear flattering to her full figure and SO comfortable. They may be my new look.

Yesterday I got an earlier start on the day and took Rufus and Mikey to the dog beach. It was gorgeous there and the tide was way out which pretty much makes a long trek a sure thing. Every once and a while I run into a dog owner who makes me scratch my head in wonderment as to why they even come to a communal dog beach. Take yesterday for example. Rufus ran ahead of me and naturally straight to a tidy little family unit all set up on the beach, umbrella and all. I noticed Rufie had a small blue toy in his mouth by the time I reached him and was chewing away on it like a Holstein on it's cud. He'd lost all interest in the perfectly good tennis ball that I'd provided and was like an addict for this cheap little squeaky toy. "Is this yours?" I asked the obviously displeased woman. "Yes!" "Oh, I'm sorry. He just loves these plastic things - here, I'll get it from him". I gently pried it from his reluctant mouth dripping with his thick slobber. "Here you go - sorry. He gets all ADD here at the beach". I handed her the dog toy and she looked at me like I'd just injected her with a full syringe of Ebola. I snatched it back and told her that I'd just go run it under the hose at the doggie watering faucet. She sputtered a couple of times and off I limped. When I returned it to her dripping (she was practically on my butt) I asked her where she got it. She shook it a couple of times, muttered "Albertson's" and then complained that since it is now wet it probably won't squeak. I don't know if she was expecting me to drop everything and go buy a new one (or reimburse her the $3) or what, but I just smiled and said, "give it a minute - it'll dry and be good as new. Have a nice day!" With that I ambled through the seaweed as far away as possible from the happy little picnic. My last view was of her hiding the toy under towels - like that would stop Rufus any time soon, ha!

I recently got home from picking up the young uns from the airport and my sweetie just walked in, breathless, after driving himself to a Dr. appointment and some grocery shopping - now that's progress. I have to go unload the jeep for him, gladly and willingly! Maybe if I sashay my way balancing a bag on my head as if I'm wearing a floaty, shimmering Sari I can make it an event.....maybe not.

365 Walks-Day 189-190/Sitting on My Ample Duff

I'm sitting here on this bright and beautiful morning sipping my coffee and giving thanks for the delicious breakfast my hubby made me (Eggs Florentine ala Apu). The memory that just a few short weeks ago I was trying to manage work, house and home while dressing, feeding and doing every other little thing for him is not that distant, but seems quite impossible. That we can do all the things we do when we must is an incredible thing. I think I'm still recovering and storing strength for the next onslaught. Speaking of that - I'm just lamenting all the things that I coulda/shoulda done these last two days but just couldn't muster the energy to accomplish. I don't even have very good excuses, but they are behind me...moving on to this day. 

The past couple of walks have been just around the corner and down the block, pleasant, but not very exciting. The fact that I have moved well into the second half of this walking endeavor with very little fanfare is not lost on me. It's nothing special really, just part of my everyday life now. The truth is that I have made room for it relatively effortlessly and it makes me wonder what else I could add to my life - or improve at the very least. 

I was going to come to my computer early to write last night, but got caught up in a movie instead. The whole time I was sitting and watching I was thinking, "You could be doing something else more productive", but then I convinced myself that this was what I was CHOOSING to do at the moment and so it was ok. Right, fine...I was choosing it because I felt hot and lethargic and couldn't be bothered to get my fat butt off of the couch and up a short flight of stairs. I always know when my choice has be a good one when I don't feel a sense of guilt or remorse when the credits roll.

I can't remember how I felt about that, exactly, because as the movie ended last night I just burst into tears. It could have been disappointment over the poor use of precious time, but I think it was more likely because the movie was devastatingly sad - I watched 'The Lovely Bones'. It was my own fault, there were no surprises because I had read the book. I wondered why I was so eager to see this movie that I knew would be a heart wrencher - what possible redeeming value could be obtained? Was it curiosity at how they pulled it off or how it compared to the book (I will never read a book if I've seen the movie first, but I'll often watch the movie several times if I feel a particular book has been given justice). 

Stanley Tucci talked about his role as the creepy serial killer in this film. He, like most of us, is sickened by such things and I was interested in why such a talented performer with a amazing body of work behind him would agree to take on such a role. I could try to summarize his take on it, but it's much better in his own words and not essential to my posting.

Alice Sebold wrote the story that my book club read (GAB - Girls About Books) some time ago. We choose a variety of different material, but our main goal is to evaluate how any author is able to take a subject and turn it into literature - or not. If they have accomplished this in anyway, my visual self can't resist knowing how the film creators' imagination and interpretation compares with my own. I have some friends who are bona-fide professionals in this (yes you, Marcel) but I love it too. I think that I could have chosen a few different professions in my life; I have a top three that would have been my favorites - this would have been one. But....to accomplish these things you have to get a big derriere off the sofa (unless, of course, you're doing research) - I'm going to work on that.

Some excitement is brewing (at least to us) stay tuned!

365 Walks-Day 187-188/Ordinary Time

 

I just did some reconfiguring and discovered that I'd counted one day twice, just in case any of you are keeping track. :)

What a glorious day it was today. I woke to my sidekick offering to make me 'his version' of French toast, which is way yummier than the way I make it. The sun was up long before I was and once I was fueled with a good breakfast I was ready to tackle some projects. I went to our athletic club yesterday morning for the first time in a long while and though it felt good, by the time I worked out, had coffee and visited, made a few stops along the way home, half the day was gone. Today I planned to stay focused.

It was a regular day, a perfectly lovely ordinary day. Ordinary time in the Catholic church is the liturgical period outside of distinctive worship seasons such as Lent, Easter, Advent or Christmas, just the regular, everyday kind of worship. When I was a young woman the worst word in the English language was 'ordinary'. After living through enough excitement in my older years I LOVE simple and common place. This morning I put on old shorts and a white tank top, flip flops and a straw sun hat completed my ensemble. Our upstairs balcony was my project for the day and I tackled the neglected dirt and grime left from winter with enthusiasm - it was long over due. 

Apu has driven himself to his last few Dr visits and felt well enough to join some of his retired colleagues for lunch following one such appointment this afternoon. The house was so quiet I didn't even put on any Cd's. The light warm breeze nuzzled the wind chimes and the gentle tinkling that wafted through the open back screen door was the only music I needed. I left a jar of sun-tea to brew on the back porch and set about scrubbing and sweeping till I'd worked up quite a nice glow. As I leaned back to guzzle from my ice cold water bottle I caught a glimpse of the snow capped Olympic mountains and almost choked. I am still staggered by their beauty; I just have to learn not to drink and glance.

My husband arrived home in good form followed by my bff, Betsy. It was perfect timing - I'd just wrung out my last rag and put away the broom. The sun was high and the back yard and sun-tea beckoned. We all sat with feet propped, sipped sweet, lemony tea, listened to the wind chimes, and appreciated the wonderfully ordinary moment.

Mikey was too lazy to move so Rufus and I dragged ourselves out for an evening stroll just as the sun was setting. I was still in my shorts, tank, and flip flops and Rufus - well, Rufus was just in his right skin - so damned happy, as usual. As we walked down a side street that I knew would offer a better westerly view I thought about the simplicity of the day, the phone calls I'd had with each of our children, my husband's progress, the physical work I'd completed, and sipping ice tea with a pal. Rufus and I stopped, both of us still and quiet as we watched that bright orange globe slowly slip behind those majestic Olympics. It was just an ordinary, glorious day and at that moment, all was right in my world. 

365 Walks-Day 167, 168 & 169/Lazarus Man

 

 

 

 

 

I'll see if I can squeeze a quick note in here while our visiting family is momentarily out and about. The last few days have been beehive busy with birthdays, preparing for family from Europe and arrival of said family. I have managed to fit my walks in but just barely.

Walk 167 (amazing to even write that!) was on our son's birthday. We have postponed the big family celebration until tomorrow when we'll combine it with Father's Day and all of our guests and family. He works very early each morning and so I managed to make a trip to his house under the cloak of darkness (and pouring rain) to attach a Happy Birthday balloon and goodies to his door to be found on his way in the morning. When I woke, early the next morning, my eyes flew open from a dream that I had forgotten to walk - that's how committed I've become. The more days I've logged in a row without missing the more pressure is on to maintain my record. The funny thing is that last night, after people had left and our guests were cozily tucked in bed I was finishing the clean-up when I realized in a panic that I hadn't walked! I'd not stopped moving all day, but the "intent" is the critically component here and I had not "set" out to walk. It was just midnight - YIKES, I grabbed Rufus and set out on my road. Up and down, up and down. It wasn't my shortest trek to  date, but it probably contained the most "intent". Whew! That was close.

I'm sure it's a combination of things - lots of prayers, hard work, a lot of determination, and just the simple passage of time, but my husband is slowly but surely (3 steps forward, literally, and two steps back) improving. I think a lot of it was my telling him that if he didn't get up and get moving soon - he never would. A huge motivator, however, was the arrival of his sister and nieces from Sweden (via Slovakia). He has always been one who could muster all the forces of the universe and prop himself upright and appear healthy (or at least semi). When our son was horribly injured in Prague over six years ago I thought that would surely be the end of him. I was so fearful that I would lose them both at the same time. He was super human in his effort to hold himself (and me) together under unbelievable physical and mental duress. Just call him the Lazarus man!

Both of our daughters will be here by the end of the week. Sheets will be changed, the refrigerator (back in good health, thankfully) will be restocked, and planes will literally pass in the night. Me? I'll still be walking, that is if I don't fall over in the street or more simply....just forget.

I better get my walk in before the troops return!

365 Walks-Day 166/Patron Saint of Refrigerators

Yesterday I met a dear old friend at the dog beach. She brought her German Shepherd, Cassie, and of course Rufus and Mikey arrived with me. Rufus was in doggie heaven, especially to have a female to play with - I think he still grieves over our Sophie. Mikey, as usual, tolerated the cold, the damp, the dirty sand, and the other frolickers on the beach. At one point, in his little red knitted turtleneck, he just turned and firmly planted one skinny little leg after the other and headed the opposite direction from us. "That's it - I'm done!"

It was glorious to be near the water after being cooped up for so long. The sights, the smells, the expanse - it was wonderful. I can only imagine how it's been for my fella these past weeks. A trip to the doctor's office doesn't count. You can imagine my joy at finding him behind his desk checking email when I returned home. I'm certain his many friends felt happiness to receive an email from him -"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated" (Mark Twain).

Our new plan of action: short periods of time of sitting or standing with rest breaks of the supine variety - small doses of heat to the sacral area and regular, controlled doses of an anti-inflammatory, seem to be working! (Please God, please God, please God...and Mary too, and St. Joseph - oh heck throw St. Theresa, St. Patrick and St. Gemma Galgani [patron saint of back problems, honest she really is...but I digress] - whoever...throw them all in).

 He walked a little, rested, sat in his chair, rested etc. The miracle is that today he DROVE!!! I am not kidding. Just knock me over, but I followed him in my car like a nervous wreck, but he did fine. He had a little trouble parallel parking...okay, a LOT of trouble, but he did it with the help of my airplane-parking maneuver assistance. Eureka...it's quite a day. Now he's resting with  a heating pad, so the big test will be when he gets back up. Sitting, standing, walking, driving, parking AND he still is in possession of his left big toe. For this moment, only this one....I am ecstatic. Thank you, prayer warriors, I am convinced you did it. Well you, St. Gemma, and a little nursing care from me. But we're not done yet.

Perhaps Daddio's motivation is that his sister and our nieces are arriving Friday morning. That could be it, or maybe me standing at the foot of the bed with arms akimbo, "It's time for you to get the hell up!" No, I'm sure it's his sister.

Well, speaking of getting the hell up...I have a hell of a lot of work to do before said guests arrive. I haven't walked yet today but you damn well know I will. (I'm sure swearing a lot for a church-candle lady) I may not get the chance to write much in the next week, but I'll be walking - promise. Our girls will also be arriving home and a graduation celebration for our youngest arriving from London will be the grand finale - then I'll take a nap. Right now? Waiting for the refrigerator repairman...yeah, I know. I just might have it fixed by the time he gets here....

365 Walks-Day 159 & 160/No Matter Where You Go...There You Are

 I just returned from a nice stroll through downtown Edmonds with Rufus and Mikey. If I had been a little quicker with the camera I could have captured twin squats - Mikey in perfect sync with Rufus in front. Maybe nicer for you that I didn't get it. They sure made my work easier...oh the simple things in life.

The above banner was taped to a window I passed on First Hill yesterday afternoon. It was a sweet reminder that came non too soon. I drove Daddio down to the Polyclinic to receive his 2nd outpatient treatment of IV steroids for his back. I kept hoping that after his infusion was done he'd leap up out of his chair and walk out with his wheelchair on one shoulder and carrying me sitting up on the other like the Incredible Hulk or something. It's not that kind of steroid treatment - doesn't quite work that way. Fortunately our drive down was prearranged and less frantic than the one last Friday. His appointment was later in the afternoon again, but this time we were able to fit in a dialysis cycle first so he wasn't behind by the time we got home. 

 

Once he got all settled in the infusion room I decided to take advantage of the time to walk in new surroundings. As I left I passed several lounge chairs and beds where other patients were receiving their treatments. From my medical background it was easy to realize that several of them were getting chemotherapy and many were not very old. We don't have to go very far to find people worse off than we are. Sobering and humbling at the same time. 

I headed out what I think was the front door of the clinic, but I've gotten turned around so many times and gone in and out of different doors and elevators that I'm not really sure. It is quite a complex of clinics and laboratories that all seem to run quite efficiently - and everyone is SO nice. I have found, though, that the "be like honey" concept really works; if you're sweet and kind to people most of them are quite pleasant right back at ya.

 I didn't really have much of an agenda except to not get lost. For those of you who are familiar with First Hill in Seattle you know it to be also referred to as "Pill Hill" since there are so many hospitals and medical clinics up there. It is also one of the oldest parts of Seattle and there are some real gems to be found if you take a good look.

 
 
 I love being a tourist in my own metropolis and I must admit that a little break from the hustle and bustle as well as a bit of fresh air was welcome. I try to remember to bring a proper camera with me, but sadly most of the time I'm lucky to have my phone. I snapped a couple of shots of areas that made me stop and smile or suck in my breath just a little. Some of the old apartment buildings have beautiful trim, moldings, and carvings on the buildings that you just don't see on construction today - mostly it's just too expensive. Some of it was crumbling and falling apart and I felt sad to see it wasn't being cared for. In a way some of the human beings I passed up there near a little serene park gave me the same feeling for much of the same cause - just let go for one reason or another. 

 

Considering the trip down, the parking and the ordeal of starting an IV on my sweetie-pie's miserable veins, the actual treatment was mercifully short and we were out the door before we knew it. Of course Daddio knew all the ladies by their first names by check out time. To be fair, he did ask me to find out the name of the young, earring-wearing man who checked us in both days at the registrar's desk in the lobby. Last Friday it was because of him that we made it in the nick of time. He personally took my guy to the Dr's office while I ran to rescue my illegally parked car. He remembered us when we came in yesterday and asked how things were going. He didn't just inquire, he really wanted to know. Daddio wanted his name so we could send him a note of thanks. I saw a pharmacy in the lobby and suggested that we purchase a card "now" while we were thinking of it. We both wrote a note, found out his name and then left it with a co-worker. We didn't even leave our last name, but he tracked us down and called us today to thank us. He said it made his day. So easy, so simple - why don't we do it more?

So many lessons in one day: Much nicer to drive down the freeway without a knot in my stomach and my husband's white knuckles clutching the dashboard, it can be fun discovering neighborhoods I thought I already knew, no matter where I go - there I am and of course my all time favorite, 'be like honey' (from an article shared by a fb buddy) - the repercussions can be quite amazing. 

PS- The verdict is still out, but I think my sweet toad might just be improving. We made homemade pizza tonight...together. Thanks for all well wishes/prayers. Stay tuned!

 

365 Walks-Day 157 & 158/Lean On Me

 

 

Heading off to bed here real soon after my last full work day for the summer - Yahoo! I love my job, but I'm ready for a break. We'll see just what that time off will bring. In order to make it to work today my wonderful sister came to care for my husband. What would we do without those people we need to lean on? She arrived early and stayed late. She cooked, cleaned, did laundry, and even changed his dressings - amazing! I feel her love in every thing she did and I'm not only grateful for it, I love her back. 

I returned home just in time to get my guy on dialysis, although he was feeling well enough today that he probably could have managed on his own with her there to lift bags and set him up. I set out something I planned to do for dinner and then laid down to rest. I woke up two hours later to the glorious aroma of dinner cooking. I was certain I was in heaven. How wonderful it was to have this little respite.

After we cleaned up after dinner (mostly her) we grabbed the dogs and headed out for a walk and talk (my favorite) before it got dark. As we left Apu was actually SITTING at his desk with about 10 pillows on his chair. It's the first time in days that he's even ventured out of the bedroom. The rest and quiet was good for healing but being couped that long will make you stir-crazy. My sis and I had a good stroll around the neighborhood and got caught up with life in general. It was fun; I wish we lived closer. The dogs trotted along sporting their blinky-lights and marking their real estate. I felt a calmness I haven't felt in a long time. My little sister made such a difference for us in a very short amount of time and before she left to catch her ferry home she promised to come back to help out again soon. She knows I'd be there for her too, she wouldn't even have to call.

Our son stayed over Saturday night and I made my special Belgian Waffle recipe with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. Nothing like spoiling your kids once and a while. In return he set up a make shift barber shop on our bed and shaved his papa while I took the pooches for a nice walk in downtown Edmonds. He was not especially pleased that I was snapping a couple of photos of them as though it diminished his charitable act, or an invaided their privacy (hello, it's for my blog). I found the scene particularly touching and one day when he has a little boy (hint) of his own he can show him how you look after those you love. After his accident it really bothered our son that he needed to be taken care of by us when it was in his plan to be the care taker. He is much more than he knows just by the courage and determination he shows every day. But to see him sitting on our bed, lathering up his father's face and carefully running the blade down his cheek to allow some semblance of dignity - well it was just a moment. 

 There are times in our lives when we have to realize we just can't do it all alone. It's not easy and it doesn't feel good - that helpless feeling. It is humbling in one way, but of course when you've been on both sides you understand what a gift it is to allow those who love you to be there for you. It's ok to be weak and vulnerable sometimes, to lean a weary head down on a caring shoulder for a few minutes and just let the strength of that person course through you and lift you up so you can hold on for at least one more day. It's good to experience that so you know how they feel when it's your shoulder they're leaning on.

 

 

 

365 Walks-Day 155 & 156/The Pathetic Faction

It doesn't happen very often, but I'm almost at a loss of what to say. There have been so many good and kind people sending thoughts, prayers, and just well wishing in general. I wish I had better news to report, but my husband says that he doesn't note much improvement tonight.

I should have written earlier because mid-day he seemed to be doing better. It's hard to tell because the pain is, of course, worse upon movement. The better you feel the more you want to move. He's been in bed all day except for this morning. He moved a bit better, I thought, and was a little optimistic, but he's tried to keep activities limited. So I really don't know what's going on at this point. The next day or two will tell, but he can still get one more treatment with this high concentration of steroid IV and then that's it. Maybe it will just take time. My assessment is that he appears somewhat better but that might just be wishful thinking.

When we got home from the clinic, last night, I started his dialysis and helped him settled down. I could't face cooking so I drove to the waterfront and ordered halibut and chips, from Arnie's, to bring home. While I waited for my order I walked along the marina with Rufus. I felt so bad for him being cooped up all day. He has access to our side yard but I just sort of identified with his need for fresh air and movement. After the stress of the day and the relief of making it back home in one piece, it felt wonderful to be out near the water for even a short time. Rufus was sure happy.

Today was no day to be indoors, but I got over my pity party quickly and set about my nursing duties with a hopeful heart. As the day wore on and I began to unravel, the exhaustion set in. One good thing I've discovered is that I can still cook - not bad. I barbecued marinated flank steak tonight and Daddio raved. Well I guess he's not stupid - not if he wants to continue eating. This is a guy who LIVES to eat - a three meal a day kind of person. Not at all like me who eats to live and can graze my way through an entire 24 hrs and never actually sit down. I feel like the women of a few generations ago who cook a meal, clean up and start preparation for the next one. I sound like I'm complaining, but I'm not - really. It's a very small thing compared to what he goes through and I'm embarrassed how pleased I was with his compliments on my cooking. I have been exceptionally spoiled by this man. Pay back!

Rufus and I walked late tonight, used the "torch" (homage to my fake Brit kid) and everything. It was nice to be out, I was just sorry I missed the sun. I've been trying to complete my student's evaluations a little at a time - only one more, thankfully. It's been difficult to keep my mind on them; they deserve better.

Our son as just come from the ferry to stay the night. He spent the day on the Peninsula with one of my brothers, golfing. For those of you who know him, it's no small thing that he golfs - wearing two prosthetics....and he's pretty good (so I'm told and not by him). 

Well, it's practically in the middle of the night and the two men I love most are sprawled across my bed exchanging their day and little factoids of life. He must be feeling better, they're chatting like teenage girls. They are amazing, these two - the "pathetic faction" of the family, according to our son. The blind leading the blind - one gimp to another...thank you God for our sense of gallows humor or we'd all be stark raving mad. Don't let on that you know, but they aren't even a little pathetic - not even close. G'night Gracie.

Now these two are pathetic!