Spring has sprung!

It may be snowing in Minnesota but it's springtime here. Spring brings us so much. This year is even more special because last year I felt so lousy. I know it's corny but I love it. The bluebirds sit on my porch rail and the little purple weedy things are blooming in the yard. Out at Garvan Woodland Gardens the daffodils are a yellow sea and in no time over 84,000 tulip bulbs will bloom. What's not to love? I've also discovered meadow saffron. They grow close to the ground like crocus but they're bigger. I can't even describe the color!

As a garden volunteer I'm afforded all kinds of opportunities to participate in special events. Yesterday a group of us stomped through the woods with clippers gathering greenery that will be used for table decorations today at the Governor's luncheon at the Arkansas tourism convention. This morning I'll join a group at the convention center to make the arrangements. I don't know how to make flower arrangements but that's okay. I'll go as much for the camaraderie as the activity. I'm finally getting the hang of retirement. The most important thing I can do is seek good company and find worthwhile projects to keep me stimulated.

A room with a view

If I get after it I can clean our little condo in an hour. My problem right now is the weather. The sun is so beautiful shining off the lake that I can't stay inside. When I'm not outside I'm standing at the window. Dust motes dance in the light but I'm not inclined to eliminate their source. The tile is gritty but I walk over it on my way to the porch. I'm hypnotized by the view.

Debbie and I dreamed that some day we would live on the lake. We planned it for our "old age." Then one day we looked at one another with the same thought, "Go now!" We have to pinch ourselves occasionally. We live on the lake! We can walk a few yards and be on the edge of the water. We can sit on our porch and watch birds and boaters and fishermen. Yesterday Debbie wanted to fish. She just walked out the door, walked down to the boat, and drove away. In a couple of hours she was back with 15 beautiful crappie.

I still have to clean the condo but in an hour I'll be back outside, looking at the lake and enjoying this beautiful day.

Time Heals

What a difference a year makes! This time last year I was miserable. I couldn't swallow, my left vocal chord was paralyzed, I was commuting 40 miles one way to work every day, and going to speech therapy in Little Rock a couple times a week. WHEW!

But look at me now! It all seems like a bad dream. I can eat without choking (most of the time). I can eat steak if it's very tender and I'm careful. That's a major step up from Stauffer's macaroni and cheese. I can swallow water! Yeah, sounds easy but water is a challenge because it's a "thin" liquid. If your throat doesn't close off the correct pipe when you swallow there is danger of aspirating liquid into your lungs which can cause pneumonia. My voice is stronger because I gave my vocal chord the rest it needed to heal when I quit working. I'm physically stronger because I'm not exhausted from the demands of a job and a long commute.

Some limitations I have had to accept; some may be temporary. Last year I wanted a drink of water. This year I might eat a hamburger!

I can't handle money!

When I had to quit working I was advised to apply for disability benefits. I asked around and checked with my doctor and decided to go for it. No one I talked to had a good story to tell. Knowing that I might encounter resistance from the government I dug in my heels and prepared for battle.

First, I made an appointment with a Social Security counselor. They book weeks in advance but the day for the interview finally dawned. I wanted to make a good impression so I drug out one of my "Marian the Librarian" jumpers and put on my sensible shoes. When I applied my makeup I left off the concealer I call crack filler. I put it on the scar in my chin to give myself the impression that it's less noticeable. After all, I needed the counselor to see the outward and visible signs of my disability. I was counting on the fact that the left side of my mouth doesn't always do what it's told to add to my air of "disabled." Cheesy, I'll admit, but effective.

The counselor was a sympathetic lady who asked millions of questions and recorded the answers on her computer. After the questions I had to run through my litany of surgeries, tests, and limitations. Last I had to sign a document that everything I had said was true. That done, the counselor told me I'd be hearing from them in a few weeks and I left. I figured, okay, that's step one done.

Several more weeks passed and I received a giant brown envelope stuffed with 3 packets of questionnaires that I had to complete and return. These questions were the same ones I'd answered at the Social Security office! I thought, "Aha! It's a trick to see if I lied." The questions were short answer and multiple choice for the most part. Not to worry, I'm a good test taker. I just had to take my time. It didn't take me long to figure out that the questions were repetitive. They asked the same thing about 3 different ways and were meant to assess mental limitations as well as physical limitations. I breezed through the sections about decision making and paying my bills but then they stumped me.

The question was, "How well can you handle money?" I'd already indicated that I could take care of my own finances so I took the question literally and answered at length. I explained that the neuropathy in my hands made it difficult for me to "handle" money. I described the way I dropped paper money because I couldn't feel it in my hands, that I often lost money from my pockets because I didn't know I had pulled it out, that I dropped coins because I couldn't grip them. It was quite an essay. Feeling pretty good about my answers I put the 3 questionnaires in the return envelope and took it to the post office.

It dawned on me the next day. They didn't want to know if I could "handle" money. They wanted to know if I could "manage" money!

Before long I was notified that my disability benefits would begin in February after the obligatory 5 month wait period. I think I set a record! I applied in August and was approved in October. My application was probably the office joke for awhile. "Hey! Look at this! This woman can't handle money!" Maybe my answer gave some bored bureaucrat a laugh because it sure cracked us up. Whatever the reason for the swift approval, mental or physical, I'm in and I didn't have to fight for it.

Through the eyes of a child

As spring dawns my attitude improves. It's been sunny and windy with temperatures in the 60s and 70s for several days. The warm temperatures give me a preview of days to come. They also give the daffodils and tulips at Garvan Woodland Garden what they need to spring to life. Garvan Woodland Gardens is an incredible botanical garden right here in Hot Springs and it's open to the public year round. You can check it out on its website www.garvangardens.org. People of all ages and conditions come from all over the country to enjoy its beauty.

I took my seven year old great niece, Heather, out there Saturday to look for daffodils. We rode in a golf cart because it had rained and it was a little muddy. This little girl is full of curiosity and adventure and I was glad I had her contained in a vehicle. Otherwise she would have had me climbing up and down every little path that shot off the main path. She would ask where we were "allowed" to walk so she realized that some areas were off limits to foot traffic. Kids that age blow me away! I thought she'd be bored but far from it. She kept me on my toes with her millions of questions. Repeatedly, she exclaimed, "This is SOOOO beautiful!" She noticed little signs along the paths and wanted to know what they were and what they said. I explained about identification tags and she insisted we stop frequently to learn the name of what she was looking at. Sometimes she just had to get out of the cart for a better look.

In a week or two the daffodils and tulips will be out in full force and I'll insist she come back. I think we'll walk. It will do me worlds of good to scramble up and down rock paths with her, looking at the beauty through her innocent eyes.

YMCA

In an effort toward self improvement I joined the YMCA. I hate the kind of exercise that requires machines or repetitions but I enjoy the group classes so I go to yoga twice a week. I went to pilates once but the next day I could barely walk. That's a little more hard core than I want. I'm looking for stretch and balance and an overall feeling of well being; contemplative exercise, not sweaty exercise.

I also must consider the physical limitations created by various cancer treatments. Because of the muscle I lost in my neck on the left side I can't move my left arm in certain directions. I can raise it above my head and I can raise it to the back but certain sideways maneuvers are impossible. I learned that if I'm on my stomach with my arms stretched out in front of me I can't raise my left arm at all. That felt wierd. My brain said, "Lift!" but my arm ignored the command. Imagine having your whole body in that condition! The other thing is the neuropathy in my feet and hands. That was caused by 18 months of chemo. My hands and feet tingle like they are asleep. I almost fell on my head trying to do a tree pose because it's hard to stand on one foot if you can't feel the foot you're standing on. So I did what I had to do, I cheated. I put my hand on the wall and held myself up. Eventually I'll wean myself from the wall and do it the right way.

Going to the Wash 'n Go

My condo is too small to accommodate a washer and dryer so I am a weekly regular at the Wash 'n Go. For a shameless people watcher this place is a buffet. Hot Springs is a tourist town and it attracts people of every economic level, nationality, and age.
It also has a major horse racing track and that adds another dimension, the seasonal worker. Trainers, jockeys, hot walkers, horse owners, stable hands, gamblers, and sports writers come to Hot Springs in December and stay through April, when the season ends. This laundromat is across the street from the track so it's the most convenient for track employees who wash more than clothes at the Wash 'n Go. It also accommodates the track workers by designating washers and dryers for their needs. The dryers on the end are labelled "Track workers only" and there are special washers and dryers labeled "Horse blankets only." Horse blankets can create plumbing problems because horse hair, hay, and dirt clog the drains so its a bad idea to wash them in a regular machine.
I was influenced by Cheaper by the Dozen, so I challenge myself to streamline my laundromat experience when I can. I had traditional, clumsy laundry baskets so I searched online until I found hampers with wheels and a handle so I can pull them instead of carry them and I ordered 2. I keep a supply of quarters in a little red bag. My detergent stays in the car. And most importantly, I travel with what my family calls "an anti-boredom kit." It only takes me 90 minutes to do 4 loads but I don't just sit and stare at the wall. I always have a crossword puzzle book, a novel, sometimes a crochet project, and snacks. Add any of these activities to watching the colorful people already there and my 90 minutes fly. And this is the best part, Sonic is next door! Anything is bearable with ice cream.