Hot Enough For Ya?

Today was crazy hot and humid. It was  made worse because so far this year, we have not really had any very hot weather. And today, boom. It’s 95F in the shade, with the high humidity, that feels like 112F.

Undeterred, I decided to venture out for a few errands and what not. I picked up a sack of basmati rice at a small family run middle-eastern market. I had to stop to fill the van up with gas, and then I ended up at the mall, just to wander around for a bit.

Some happy things happened today. While at the mall, I wandered into Sears, which I never do, and a golf shirt caught my eye. I looked at the price, $45, but then noted above the rack it said 70% off, I looked around and almost all the racks said the same thing, I quickly found four golf shirts I liked and went looking for dressing room.

Surprisingly, Sears now has a HUGE wheelchair accessible dressing room! I tried all of the shirts on and loved all of them, but one was 100% polyester, and I just don’t do polyester. It doesn’t breathe and feels to me like I’m wearing a pizza bag.

I paid for my three shirts and headed back into the mall. A few seconds later I noticed a man waving at me from a bench. He smiled widely as a I waved back. I don’t know his name, but he is an incredible inspiration to me. It was about a year and a half ago when I first saw him. Clearly a stroke victim. Barely able to walk. His face frozen, clinging to a stand up walker, taking only a few slow rigid steps at a time, his wheelchair a few feet behind him. I remember thinking what an odd place to come for exercise. The mall was busy that day and people were having to walk around him, most completely ignoring him on purpose and averting their eyes. They didn’t want to see his suffering. I didn’t avoid him. Something about his courage made me want to congratulate him. I made sure we had eye contact and I gave him a huge smile and a nod. He could not manage a smile, but I know he saw me, and he was able to give me a slight nod. Since that time, he is always there, I don’t think I have ever been to the mall and not seen him. And he just keeps getting better and better. And every time I make a point of smiling and nodding. At first, way back at the beginning, he almost seemed bothered by it. It was as though he didn’t WANT to be noticed.  But gradually he came to accept my acknowledgement of his existence, and eventually, as he became able, he started smiling.  Today, he was sitting and resting on a bench, but I got a full arm wave, a nod, and big smile. He was the one who got MY attention.  As I said, I don’t know him, but he inspires me.

A little bit further along I heard a woman screaming “Keith!!! KEITH!!!” a slight pause and then because I didn’t react “HEY KEITH!!”  <sigh>  I turned around to face her. I was about 20 feet from her and I mouthed the words “I am not Keith” as I shook my head.  She looked at her daughter and I heard her say “oh that’s not Keith” and then to me “SORRY” (this little episode is only humorous if you’ve been following for some time)

And before heading back home, I went to Ojibway park to wander through the forest. One of my favorite things to do on Sunday. It was so hot that I think most people stayed home today, there were almost no cars in the parking lot. I took my shirt off to make the heat tolerable. I did not see a single human for most of my time there. Just at the very beginning, a woman had her camera and was looking for turtles or birds or anything to photograph. There was nothing, every living creature was probably hiding in the shade somewhere. Except me. I was happily feeling the warmth of the wind and absorbing the heat of the sun.

I love summer.

Weekend with Kelly

Last weekend was the best in a LONG time.

I took Friday off and drove up to Toronto to spend a couple nights with my sweetheart!!

Toronto isn’t my most favorite city, but I do enjoy it in short bursts. It’s just that it can be a bit overwhelming. I’m a country boy at heart I think. ALL those people doing ALL those things that ALL those people do ALL at the same time. It just gets to be too much and makes me want to go up to the hotel room and hide for a while. However, I do actually enjoy it for short periods. There is a certain energy about it, and it’s fun, it really is. It’s nice too that there is so much to discover. So much of everything everywhere. But yeah, again, overwhelming.

So I think what happens to people that live there is that they lose their minds. No really. I think all of that pressure and constant over stimulation of just so many people all around you all the time wanting you to get out of their way or hurry up or move or give me this or take that, it ends up changing you. For some, I think they become angry and distant. They want nothing to do with anyone. “I am in my shell, you can’t see me and I will not react to you.” They become even more alone in this sea of humanity.
But others, they go the other way. They seem to want to compensate for the coldness of this mass by reaching out and making connections with total strangers, any kind of connection at all. And these are the ones that have stuck with me.
For instance, while out for a stroll, a guy just says “hey man rock on!” or something similar, and high fives me for some reason. I must confess that I checked all my belongings like my blackberry and wallet to make sure that had not been a distraction tactic. Another guy stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me inquisitively. I had been waiting for Kelly, she was up a few steps at an Ice Cream shop buying us a treat. He cocked his head to one side and shook his finger at me as if to say….”there’s something about you…I think I know you.” but he never said a word. The whole thing seemed to go on forever, and I, growing somewhat uncomfortable, started to smile because I didn’t know what else to do. That’s when finally spoke. When I smiled. “THERE!! I GOT IT!!” he said” I KNEW you were having FUN” He said. “Have a great night buddy” and he patted me on the shoulder and walked away. I didn’t check my wallet or blackberry because I was sure he didn’t need either of those things on the mothership.
And lastly, as I was leaving I was in my van at a light waiting to make a left. I could feel someone staring at me from the van next to mine. Both of our windows were open and he was talking to his wife now. I looked over and he looked at me. He spoke to his wife again and then turned to me. When I looked at him the second time, he said, in a slight Australian accent “Good to see ya drivin mate! Keep at it!” “Yup, I will, as soon as the light turns green here” (ok, I didn’t really say that, I just nodded)
Now none of these encounters are particularly strange. Things like this happen everywhere. They just don’t happen as often to me when I am not in Toronto. But I’m grateful for these people, they help make Toronto interesting and warmer.

But I was there to be with Kelly, I had missed her so much I couldn’t wait to be with her.  We had not planned on doing anything special, just to be together, and that plan turned out to be perfect. We did stuff, little things, errands. We went for breakfast, and dinner. We picked up some supplies at Staples. We rode the subway. We read the paper in the park and fed pigeons and squirrels. It was fantastic! We didn’t have expectations   and we just let the hours choose what they wanted to be for us. It was absolutely wonderful.

I took a few pictures, not as many as I wish I had.

We went to the park to read the paper and feed the animals. All I had was a small      tub of shelled peanuts. I didn’t know pigeons loved peanuts so much. Even the sparrows couldn’t get enough.

Pretty soon they were up on the bench and eating out of Kelly’s hand.

Next they started getting quite comfortable with us, and even a tad aggressive. This one had the nerve to jump up onto Kelly’s lap, right in front of me!!

I also had the honour of meeting Mechtilde. Kelly’s squirrelly little friend. She was a lady and was never pushy. She quietly approached us each time and was rewarded with a treat which she seemed to enjoy very much. She was soon joined by three others, but they had come late to the party and we were almost out of peanuts.

And this last picture is just something that cracked me up. As I sat waiting while Kelly got us an ice cream treat, and while a strange man stared at me until I smiled, I sat across the street from this banner ad.  This is just a few blocks away for the very large University of Toronto campus. I would have loved to have sat in on the meeting where the agency pitched this idea to the client.

The sad thing is, and I didn’t think about it until later, a man was shot and killed in the alley right behind this bar a week before I took this picture. The only reason I’m mentioning it here is because it’s all part of the odd reality that is Toronto. (or any large city I guess). Everything happens. Good, bad, happy, sad, it’s  all around you and in your face. You can’t get away from it.  Yet no matter what, life just goes on.

Phone Dump

Where the heck have I been for the last month? If you follow Kelly’s blog, and I think most of you do , you know that life has been a little crazy for the last little while.  But with her up in The Big Smoke now, I’m finding myself with a lot of time on my hands, albeit often bored and unmotivated.  Of course I miss her, that’s not a shocker, but it was  my lack on interest in doing things without her that surprised me. Without being able to share fun things with her, they aren’t nearly as fun. Meh.

Don’t worry, I’m not sitting around moping and pining after her. It’s not at all like that. I am so happy for her and for us. She is getting to do what she has thought about for a very long time, what partner wouldn’t want that for their significant other? I’m just trying to keep busy until we can be together again in the same city and have date nights and movie nights and all that other fun stuff.

So I was fumbling around with my blackberry this morning and I thought it might be a fun post if I just randomly dumped some of the odds and ends in my picture folder and explained the story that went along with the picture.  It will hopefully give you a bit of an idea of what I’ve been doing, and maybe even give you an insight into how my brain works. Or doesn’t work. Whatever.

This one was taken today, at the Buskers Festival. It’s hard to see, I was pretty far back, but the young lady was sweet, sexy and funny. She incorporated two men from the audience into her show, and in this shot she standing on them while getting ready to juggle three flaming torches. I wonder what her insurance rates are like. Just before this, I had gone to the new downtown farmers market and bought green beans, radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, a loaf of rye bread and a delicious peach and strawberry pie. Yum!

Yes, this is the back of a car. On my 3pm break from work yesterday I went for a walk with my friend Alfredo. As we walked past the area where the Buskers festival was going to be, they were setting up a car raffle and this car was on display. The sign on the car said “vehicle supplied by Dan Kane Chev/Cadillac”. That’s great. But it’s a Ford Focus. (?)

This is a US Coast Guard patrol boat. I was at the marina watching the sun set, and this boat came right into the marina. I thought it quite odd, and honestly I was somewhat annoyed. There were a few guys standing around having a coffee and they seemed to know a thing or two about a thing or two. So I asked them, “are they allowed to just wander in here like that?” The answer was not what I had hoped to hear. Apparently our government, according to these guys, has entered into an agreement with the US Coast Guard and the Department of Homeland Security to patrol our waters around here. “They pulled me over when I was out last week” he told me. As the boat exited the marina, I noted there were four very large guys  inside that little boat.  They saw me watching them and waved. I didn’t wave back. Take that.  (for my American friends, it’s sovereignty and pride issue. We have police boats, we can police our own waters, I don’t understand the reason for this)

I found a new conservation area to wander around in, and I took a few pictures to send to Kelly to let her know what I was up to at that moment. This is a small river that runs through the park, and miles from there it flows into lake St. Clair. I realized after taking this shot that I was way too close to the edge. How did I realize? One of my tires slipped and spun on the mud as I tried to back away. Only a little, and just for a second, but it was enough to scare the poop out of me. Sometimes I do stupid things.

This is the sunset I was watching when the US Coast Guard interrupted me. I sent it to Kelly. With some love attached to it.

This one I took not because I thought it was a really cool looking boat, which it was, but because I was curious about the flag on the back. That flag usually tells you where the boat is from. Being part of the St. Lawrence Seaway means that we often see some pretty fantastic yachts. I just about wet myself a couple years ago when I realized I was looking at the SIS-W owned by Charles Walgreen Jr.  Why did I care?  Because it’s a massive luxury yacht AND it’s wheelchair accessible. Unfortunately, Mr. Walgreen died last year. The SIS-W is currently for sale and could be mine for a mere $15 million. Oh to be ubber rich. Sigh.  Anyway, I did not recognize this flag.  I did some research and I think it’s a United States Power Squadrons Ensign. Yawn.

Detroit was hosting their annual hydroplane races, and as part of the festivities, an F-18 fighter plane does some pretty crazy stuff over the race site for about 45 minutes. I was on my lunch by the water, so I took this picture. That little spec in the sky is an F-18. I swear it is.

And lastly, this is my van, parked in a deserted picnic rest area off the highway on my return trip home after dropping Kelly off in Toronto. I didn’t even remember taking this until I saw it on my phone. I thought my van looked good under a tree, all by itself, not a soul around. Moments after I took this,  I was backing into the van and I mis-judged the angle. One of my wheels fell off the edge of the ramp and I got stuck, one wheel on, one off, teetering on the edge, unable to get any traction. The sun setting, nobody around. There was a parking lot way behind me, but from there, all anyone would see is a parked van, I was on the other side. I had my phone, but other than call the police, I didn’t know what to do. I was still about an hour from Windsor and anyone I know.  I sat there pissed off at myself for about 5 minutes, and then started rocking my chair violently from side to side while spinning the tires. I was either going to flip it over, or get myself unstuck. It took about 20 minutes, and I pulled a muscle or two, but I finally was able to get myself out. Like I said before, sometimes I do stupid things.

Father’s Day

Kelly and I had a wonderful day yesterday. We crammed so much into one day I am astonished we pulled it off (almost) completely without stress, meltdowns or need for naps. The highlights for me were some time spent at Sanson Winery for their Summer Solstice event and a long leisurely walk with Kelly in the evening.

The invite for the winery event came from Vicky, a fellow local blogger, who READS MY BLOG!!  She had met Kelly before, but not me. It was so cool to have someone I’ve never met look at me as though they recognize me and then say, “I read your blog.” with a smile.   I got as big of a kick out it as went Kitty stopped us in a mall in Waterloo by yelling out “Kelly?” as we went past her. Anyway, it reminded me that I have not posted anything in quite some time. So here I am.

I am feeling much better and am back to my regular routines. I returned to work on Wednesday, which gave me the chance to work only a few days before the weekend break rolled around. Even though I was back, things were not quite back to normal because one of my department members was retiring on Friday. I spent a good part of my time arranging a retirement lunch on Friday. I can’t really talk much about circumstances surrounding this retirement, but I will say that it’s the resolution of events which began back in October/November of last year, and had been the cause of much stress. It’s definitely a very good thing for everyone involved.

We had a BBQ today for father’s day. My dad got to choose what he wanted for dinner and after some thought he settled on steak.  I may have mentioned before that my father has Parkinson’s. I think I may have mentioned as well that I love my dad very much. It’s been hard these last few years, as his disease has progressed, to watch him change. He needs more and more help with things, and I with my own situation, am unable to help him. It also limits the things we can do together. My dad was a worker. He was always building or fixing or planting or otherwise doing something outside and around the house, and I was always right there with him. He now finds himself unable to do any of those things he so used to enjoy.

One of the ways my dad and I bonded when I was younger is by going on long walks. I was never one to sit still. Ever. Before my surgeries, I had a three speed bike and was always gone riding. Later, after my surgeries, my dad would take me on walks around the neighbourhood. It wouldn’t matter what the weather was, even in frigid temperatures we would bundle up and my dad would push me around for hours in my manual chair. He knew I couldn’t stand sitting still, and we both liked spending time together. And we would talk. We would talk for hours about anything. I loved those walks. When I got my power wheelchair, I could go on my own. I was free! I didn’t need my dad anymore, he could do whatever he wanted and I could go on my own.  But I missed him, and after a little while, we started going on walks again, and more often than not, he would ride beside me on his bike.

For years now he hasn’t been able to ride his bike, and they took his drivers license away a few years ago. He can’t walk very far, so going on long walks is out of the question too.

But today, as I was about to leave to go to my favorite butcher shop to pick up the steak, I asked my dad if he’d like to come with me. He hesitated. I told him he could stay in the van if he wanted, just come along for the ride, He smiled and started looking for his shoes.

We went for a long ride. I drove in the wrong direction at first, to check out a different butcher shop which took us along the riverfront. I pointed out where Kelly lives, and he commented on the marina and what a great view it is. A little further he commented about the beach and some sailboats. Pretty soon we were talking about all kinds of things. I took him way across town to see the children’s centre that is being rebuilt (where I am on the board), and then we stopped at the butcher shop that I had originally planned on going to. All told we were gone well over an hour, and I really enjoyed my time spent with him.

It’s a roll reversal that I had not anticipated, but one that I welcome. He does not get out much at all anymore. It was clear by some of his comments that there are parts of this city he hasn’t seen in years. If someone doesn’t take him, he can’t go. How familiar that predicament is to me, and yet I  let such a great opportunity slip past me for such a long time. I’ve been longing for a simple fun way to spend time with my dad, and today, on father’s day, I think I found it.

Mid?

I’m getting old. There’s no way around it. I don’t mean that I feel ancient or decrepit or anything, I just mean that I am noticing things that I had once thought only old people would notice.

For instance I am having real difficulty seeing fine print in low light. Just a few years ago, I could read the tiniest mice type in near pitch black darkness, and now I find myself searching out a window, tilting my head and moving the object back and forth, trying in vain to read instructions which I am SURE were printed  larger last time I bought these.

I’m driving slower. Kelly may argue this one, but she isn’t always in the car with me. When I was alone, I used to drive 15km over the limit. Always. That was my rule. And if I needed to get past someone, I might even go a fair bit faster, just long enough to get ahead of that slow poke who is for sure trying to box me in.  In essence I was an idiot. Not dangerous, but an idiot nonetheless. Not so much anymore. I’m quite content tooting along at just a few kilometers over the limit, enjoying the scenery and cursing at those young punks who zip past me.

But the biggest thing I’ve noticed lately is an awareness of the age of those around me. Facebook is the worst for this. I’ve had some time on my hands lately and so I’ve been surfing around in Facebook at the pictures of some of my old high school and grade school friends. Wow are they old! Of course they are the same age as me, but…they look so…OLD! Of course, if I was to ask a stranger to guess how old they are, they would likely guess around 40, which is correct. But that’s just it. They’re 40! When did that happen?  Last night I was looking at a picture of a friend, I hadn’t seen him since high school. It occurred to me that he looked like any of our dads looked when we were in grade 8 or 9. And then it hit me. We ARE at the age our dads were when we were in grade 8 or 9.  This isn’t something I had thought about, because I don’t have kids, but I did the math and it’s true. I am 41. When I was in grade 8, my dad was 41. I don’t know why, but thinking about it in those terms freaks me out a bit.

Then there’s the age of people providing services. One instance was in the hospital recently, on the second last day. Without giving you too much detail, I was to have small procedure involving VERY personal care, direct manipulation of a certain part of my anatomy.  My nurse, who herself was likely only 25 or so, asked if it was ok for her to have one of the student nurses do it so she could get some experience.  I said sure, of course, as I am not very shy and usually don’t mind student nurses.  So she spoke to the curtain and told the young lady behind it that it was ok for her to come in. Well, for Pete’s sake, this girl looked like she was 13! She did what she was there for, with instructions from the nurse, and she got through it with only a few nervous giggles. I’m sure she will be great nurse someday, but right now she looks like she should be playing with dolls or an easy bake oven, not handling my ummm…goods.

And then there’s today. I went to my family physician and he ordered blood work to make sure I am on track since leaving the hospital.  I went to the lab in the same building took a number and waited. When I was called in, the young lady taking my blood did not inspire confidence. I am not usually one to judge people on appearance, but other than being very young, she also had three piercings on her face (eyebrow, nose, lower lip). That alone I could have gotten past, but it was more the way she did her job. She was sloppy and rushed and somewhat cold. At one point she tossed, yes tossed, one of the vials of my blood on the little table behind her. It rolled to the edge and if it weren’t for the cotton swab she had already tossed there, my blood would have been on the floor. My immediate reaction was to blame her sloppiness on her age. I didn’t think “Wow she’s grumpy” or “Geez what’s wrong with her” or even “What a useless tool”  No, I thought to myself “This young person has no work ethic, what is wrong with kids today?”

I’ve thought that a lot in the last few years. But these last couple of months I’ve started wondering more if it’s just my age, or rather the age that I have reached. The age where we look at the next generation, the one just entering the workforce, and we think they either look way too young or are completely inept. Does every generation do this? Is it a phase? Am I going to adjust?

Maybe I just need some highlights, and a motorcycle.

Darkness

So I went to church on Saturday evening. No big deal, I’ve been going fairly regularly in the last several months. I find it comforting. Our priest is very good and quite inspiring to listen to. I go because I want to, not because I feel I should, and that, in my mind, is the only reason one should go to church.

My sister is much more involved in our parish than I am, and she had let our priest know that I was in hospital recently. During the sermon, he happened to glance in my direction and we made eye contact, or so it seemed. When it came time for communion, he was the one offering it at the end of the aisle where we were sitting.

As I walked up and it was my turn, he looked at me and said, “Welcome home.”

Well, I just about lost it. It took everything I had to not start sobbing. And I can’t quite understand why.

I know I’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. And from where I sat only two weeks ago, there was nothing more I could have hoped for but to be back in church on a Saturday evening, or anything else routine for that matter.

But those words, “welcome home”, they seemed to mean so much more, more than he intended. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he knew exactly what he was saying, on every level.

I clearly have bags and bags of bottled up emotion about all of this. Some of it I can’t explain to you. There were a few events, one in particular, that still haunt me. And all that emotion is just sitting there right under the surface, waiting to flood out without warning.

After dinner I went for a walk with Kelly to the marina. I am feeling well enough that I can easily forget the few hurdles that I still need to get over. When I am with her, everything else is ok, I am fine. We had a great time together. But after we parted I went for a long walk alone. I’m still trying to sort through a lot of this in my head.

Just before dark, I found myself back at our church. It’s only blocks from my house, and it has a nice peaceful garden with a fountain in the front yard. As I wandered the garden, I noticed movement inside the house attached to the church. I stayed in the garden a while longer. I think I was hoping someone would come out, someone who might be able to help me sort through all of this.  Maybe help me understand why I am feeling the way I am, and how to accept it or move forward from it.  Nobody came. I left disappointed, relieved, and confused, arriving home in the dark.

Give It

Before I forget and move on to hopefully more lighthearted topics, I need to post about this.

On my first evening in the ER, I had lost a lot of blood internally. A blood test revealed that my hemoglobin was very low and I needed a transfusion. It was decided that two units was the amount required.

My blood type was checked and re-checked and all the risks were explained to me. At some point I think I signed a consent as well. Then it arrived. The first unit, a little sack of life hooked to my I.V. pole, and slowly began dripping strength back into my body. A few hours later, the second unit. Gradually I stabilized. Heart rate came down, blood pressure stabilized, all vitals returned to acceptable ranges. I’m not saying ALL of it had to do with the transfusion, but it certainly WAS a large part of helping me get back on track that night.

Later the next week, I was in a semi-private room with an older gentleman. He had been admitted because it was discovered he had a tumor in his colon that had been bleeding for some time. He would need surgery, but first he needed to get stabilized and get his strength up. I heard the surgeon assuring him that despite his age, he was a strong man and that the surgery would not be difficult. Three units of blood were ordered and administered through the night. By the next morning he was changed man. The colour was back in his face, his voice had weight to it. His son-in-law came to visit and commented how well he looked. “Eets da blood dey give me!” he told him in a thick polish accent. I was discharged that day, but I am confident this man is doing well.

So here’s the thing. Give Blood. Just do it.  No.  I don’t want to hear your excuses.  Do it.

Kelly does it at every opportunity, like clockwork. When the required amount of time has passed, she’s right back in there giving again. I’ve always admired her for it, but it’s hard to understand just how important it is until you are on the receiving end. From that perspective, all I could do was pray that the supply was there and thank God that someone was kind enough to make the effort for me.

If you aren’t a blood donor but are a good candidate, please look up your local blood bank and make an appointment to give. Do it now.

If you are already a blood donor Thank You! You are making a huge difference in someone’s life every time you roll up your sleeve.

I Went Back

Yesterday after dinner, I went back to the hospital. Don’t worry, nothing is wrong, I went back to get an item I had forgotten in my room when I left.

My buddy had come by during the day and converted my van back to the configuration which makes me the driver, and I really needed to get behind the wheel. I was itching for a reason, even though I still feel quite weak.

I told myself I would start out and if it proved to be too much for me, I would turn back. But it was fine and I made it there only to find the main entrance closed. I had forgotten that on weekends after 6pm, you have to be let in by security at the emergency entrance. This put me right in the waiting room of where I had spent a very difficult 20 hours or so. But I was ok. The guard called the nurse’s station to verify that it was ok for me to come up. This took about 10 minutes, while I controlled my anxiety. I was not nearly as anxious as I thought I would be as I roamed the hallways of the 7^th floor where I had spent most of my time. The bed I had been in already had another patient.  I located a nurse, retrieved my item, and left as quickly as I could.

On my way back to my van, I noticed an elderly lady sitting on her walker, her coat buttoned up tight around her neck. She had been sitting there when I had pulled up. She was waiting by the main entrance, which was now fairly deserted. She was alone, and people had been walking right past her as though she wasn’t there. She was clearly waiting for a ride, but from whom? The taxis in this city are on strike, how long would she wait? Had a family member forgotten her? Is she cold? Does she need phone? How long has she been there?

These are all questions I could have pondered all the way home. But I didn’t. I turned around and wheeled up to her.

Me: “Are you ok ma’am?”

Her: startled, “Oh, yes, yes I’m fine”

Me: “Are you waiting for a ride?”

Her: “Yes”

Me: “How long have you been waiting? Do you want to use my phone?”

Her: “Oh I’ve been here since about 6pm I guess, not sure what’s taking them, but they’ll be along. They were going to Staples anyway so I told them to go to the one just up here and then come get me after.” (note: it was 6:45pm)

Me: “Alright, so you’re ok then, you’re warm enough?”

Her: “yes, yes I’m fine. Thanks just the same though” with a smile.

Me: “Ok, you have a good night.”

My mind at ease, I carried on to my van and drove home. I wondered about what made me stop and ask. I think I saw helplessness, real or imagined, I saw it. Having spent almost two weeks in a hospital bed, completely relying on the help of others, and often being left waiting helplessly due to understaffing (most of the time) or appalling indifference (only one nurse in particular), I saw someone that perhaps needed some kindness. I was in a position to help, and I just had to. Had she seemed distraught, I would have gone as far as driving her home myself. But she was fine. And perhaps the fact that a complete stranger cared enough to ask made her feel even more ok.

What Happened?

This is my third attempt at writing this. The first was extremely detailed. The second was less so, but still outlined step by step what I went through, or at least it would have had I finished it.

The problem is, I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t re-live it just yet. As I was writing it, I felt my anxiety level rise. I knew I had to stop. It’s too early for me to do this.

So here is the short version.

On Monday May 4^th I underwent Extracorporeal Shock Wave Lithotripsy (ESWL).

It’s supposed to be routine and in fact it IS for most people.

Not so for me. That very night I ended up in hospital, unable to urinate. I was sent home with a tube in a place nobody wants a tube. The next day was a fairly good day, and I thought I was over the hump.

Wednesday everything went downhill. I ended up in the ER by ambulance. It turns out the procedure had cause a large hematoma on my kidney, essentially a sac of blood. I required two units of blood. Also, it caused Ileus. This created serious problems for me and the resulting distended abdomen made it difficult for me to breathe. Also noteworthy was a fever of 39.9C (103.8F)

So, 10 days in the hospital, 3 of them in the ICU, and now I am back home.

I am tired, I am weak, I am bruised all over, and I still have some symptoms that are bothering me. But for the most part, I am much much better.

Being home is by far the best for me. Here I can get stronger again. And hopefully with strength, I will see these other troublesome issues go away.

I want to thank ALL of you for your kind and encouraging words. I was able to keep my blackberry for most my stay in the hospital, and knowing that so many of you were sending me positive vibes, prayers, and keeping me in your thoughts  made a huge difference.

I have to say a special thank you to my very dear (and crazy) friend Violet. Her concern and support through all of this kept me focused on the ultimate goal: to get healthy, get home, and start being a smartass on her blog again.

Another very special thank you for some dear friends who shared with us crucial medical information which made everything SO much easier for me. I was getting bits and pieces from my specialists as they rushed in and out of my room, but to have it all put into context by someone with such knowledge and experience allowed me to understand what was really happening to me and it put my mind completely at ease. It made a world of difference for Kelly and me. O and M, thank you so so much for everything!

My sisters were there for me in a big way through all of this. They will both claim that it was nothing, and that they felt helpless most of the time, but that isn’t true. It WAS something. I needed them, and they were there. Whether it be at my bedside in the ER, or fetching me my toothbrush from home, I knew I could rely on one or both of them to be there. That’s comfort. That brings inner peace when everything else is going mad. Thank you C and M.

Lastly, I am struggling for the right words to express how I feel about Kelly and her loving support. Without too much detail, the night in the ER was terrible. It was one complication after another, and another and another. Kelly’s love and support helped me hang on, kept me from giving in to what surely would have had much more dire consequences. I could NOT have done it without her. She said something to me at one point that night which brought me to tears then, and it’s bringing me to tears now.  I’m sorry I won’t share it, but she was absolutely right. And having that perspective helped me fight, and fight hard. Her love gave me strength and kept me going. I Love You Kelly. Thank you so much.

Grace in Small Things

• A wonderful evening with Kelly on Friday night.
• Spending the day exploring Ann Arbor on Saturday, no stress, no expections. Just being with Kelly and letting the day be what it wanted to be.
• Whatching a squirrel peel bark off a tree branch today, and gather it up in his mouth before bouncing away. (I had no idea they did that, how have I not seen this yet at my age?)
• Having six days off work, and each one having something special about it,  including a fantastic Easter meal with family and freinds at my sisters house on Sunday.
• Oh yes, and then there’s this today: