I have been kind of sickly all weekend, I think possibly due to some of the medications I've been taking, I've just not been able to get away from the toilet – – too far this weekend. Last night, and I felt like all might, I felt as if I might have to go at any minute so didn't get much sleep. Somewhere in the dark morning hours I made the decision I was not going into work today. I was, since home on a medical and try to enjoy the day. This of course meant I would have to call and notify somebody of my absence, work late today. I hate doing that, Monday slam and everything. And really to some degree I still feel a little unsettled and I want to get back to regular poops before going back to work if possible. True I could've taken a couple shots of Imodium buy that make decision I was staying home.

Now that I'm home, I must admit that I'm kind of bored and wished I gone in to work. Oh well, I've been prattling around in the computer room clean a little doing little art and little dictation and just trying to get through the day. So exciting we're a week before Labor Day, a vacation without having to feel guilty about how sick am I really reading. Now I know I probably won't do a single thing on the upcoming Labor Day but the mere fact that it is holiday is reason to rejoice and perform reasonably this week preceding the three-day weekend.

So Labor Day is sort of like the old official end of summer, not technical and but the and for all practical reasons. Vacations are over, tired of the heat, tired the summer reruns, school begins on all levels summer functions begin to wind up it is the end and the flies finally die the first cold snap. Labor Day is a fast holiday he really can't take more than one day for reasons mentioned so you can go far, too much the rest, and maybe this would Labor Day is all about taking a break from the hot summer and catching your breath before you leap into the Fall and all the things it seems great with autumn. I always sucker for the change, thinking I'm going to drink hot apple cider and eat donuts, the part of tailgate parties even though I hate football, cook apple pies from scratch and make delicious barbecue. I really believe I look forward to raking leaves going to the farmers market and canning fruit and vegetables to be eaten during the cold season. This of course is a myth really do any of those things, maybe one farmers market and that's enough to buy a couple squashes, enough to last through the winter and some green beans maybe and maybe the Each or two. I grab one watermelon, the Green River, and hope the ancient Asian lady is correct in her choice. I do feel exhilarated with the cool mornings and make the change for short shorts to long pants and sometimes even socks. I might spend long sun soaked autumn afternoons either in the driveway, or on the deck reading and enjoying the quiet. The Labor Day is the gateway holiday can get the Halloween Veterans Day Thanksgiving eve and Christmas without first honoring and enjoying Labor Day. So hopefully I'm back to work tomorrow, post good numbers and work on the teaching plan – – I may have to talk to Claire.

Like Everyone Else

They’re remodeling my building, or rather they are rehabbing my building or even more specifically they are blasting out the front of the building and building some access into the place. Yes access so essentially this is my fault, as usual—jack hammers and sledge hammers bounding and breaking concrete and steps—today the workers are actually pulling out the wheelchair lift which initially served the building since the place was built without wheelchair access—unless one circles round the back of the building and comes in under the underground parking. The lift they are pulling out looks as if it was an afterthought—to make the building accessible to beat some kind of requirement . I bet it was federal since the FBI I located in this building and obviously it was all just decoration since the lift looks as if it has not worked since the turn of the century. Since the agency I work with is fairly new in this building and very sensitive to how they appear to the public and now since I have come on board—a guy in a wheelchair, working every day in the building and I need access they building owners are having to comply with all access codes and they could just put a new lift in the place of the decrepit one but have decided to go the extra mile and build a ramp to give the building direct access so I and others will  not have to risk life and limb coming and going. So all morning we have been serenaded by what sounds like machinegun fire, as the hydraulic  drills eat away at the old concrete and steel. I should have to deal with the death roll for two to three weeks till the workers can get basic front access completed and I will be able to use the front access like everyone else.

THE CHANGE

It’s the 20th of the month, this month is for all intentions gone and when August goes so goes Summer, my most favorite season. Oh the days will continue to be hot and I am sure the drought will continue will in to Fall but something feels over about this summer. Maybe it’s the later sunrises when I take off for work or the bags of fresh produce rendered from neighbors gardens making fresh daily salads possible. My granddaughters are all talking about returning to school this week and I can see the summer boredom in their eyes—actually just Anakah since Anakah is the GD I have most and easiest access. Still I know if I were to see the others I would get this impression that Summer is just too much with us and it is time for change.


This August is quite possibly my last ‘working’ August, I really cannot imagine not working, sleeping in everyday—or just getting enough sleep—having all the time to do what I WANT TO DO or just hanging out. Interesting, I just got a call from a friend/colleague in Logan who is also a quad and who is also battling butt sores and we discussed the idea of having a problem with not working but maybe working less. I am really struggling with the right decision for myself and Gordon has the right idea of continuing to work but work less, and be up in the chair less for less trauma on the butt. So there are always options. I think being up less is the basic answer to all my butt problems I just don’t know if I can relegate my self to bed rest. I can once I commit besides why do I need to be up, in my chair 18-20 hours a day like I am now.

But I felt the change this morning change is in the air, still lots of warm dry weather left but I can definitely a change on the horizon. They started construction on my building this morning which makes entering my building difficult at best and a little dangerous since I used the drive way down to sub building parking , the second time for me and not a problem and I did find out this morning that the construction will be just two weeks before I can start using the front entry again. It seemed OK—part of the change, part of a glorious Fall…

Done!

Yesterday, was another medical day, a follow-up day from a number of weeks ago when we discovered the testosterone I was smearing on myself was not working As effectively as we would have liked so we started injecting the testosterone straight into the muscle and we wanted to see how this would increase my level of T” and what ever else is needed. I also scheduled my followup with my P.T. an the new A.T. vendor ‘seating Eval’ later in the afternoon so I took the entire day as ‘sick’( which could be an entire blog of itself and maybe one day will be but not today).

Dee Dee went with me to the appoints and my driver my advocate and my support. Dee Dee does so awesome in the medical settings—the day was a perfect day to spend together and the event took all the day—we left the house at 8:30 and did not get home till almost 5:00 PM hot and exhausted.

The meeting with my PT and the AT provider was later in the day and she introduced us to the new provider who was coming on to replace the former provider who they fired a couple of months ago due to poor service. It was during this meeting and evaluation I came upon a personal evaluation(of my self by my self) I am endeavoring to get some repairs on my manual chair and possibly on my power chair as well and we would like to get as much done with insurance as possible. It was during the evaluation I was asked “ do you do still drive?” and almost immediately, with out thinking I responded, ‘no, I don’t drive anymore’. I had to stop and wonder what I had just said—cause I know the PT looked at me like I had just sprouted a second head.

I had voluntarily stated I do not drive anymore and I felt comfortable saying it. What I was thinking at the time was no I don’t drive because sitting in the drivers seat hurt my butt so much I really don’t, not that I cannot drive but I choose not to drive. I know why my PT looked at me so strange because for a person with a disability who can drive and not drive is unthinkable. But you know what I think?... I am done driving—if I need to get somewhere public transit cannot take me the Dianne drives me—we seem together a lot of places—when Auni is over and we go out we often go in masse or I stay home. I AM a home body—I like my house my home and everything I need is on a bus route somewhere. I hate to drive—maybe not all the time but most of the time I just flat out hate to drive. I hate transferring from my chair to the drivers seat back, actual driving and dealing with the rest of the Utah driving public.

So I am ready, I think, I feel that I am but its only Wednesday—but when I ASKED I freely replied I was done driving—and it felt good.

Just Suck It Up!

I spent half of my weekend laying down doing “Butt Rest” in fact Yesterday Dianne was in and out applying hot packs to the butt area in an attempt to soften up the callous and debride the wounds which have amassed a great deal of scar tissue and callous over time. I really did not relish having to spend the day in bed but then again if I can act proactively I will be able to sit up for much a longer, pain and stress free . So time down is just something I am going to have to start accepting as part of my over all plan to survive this point in my life. I mean poor skin issues could be a lost worse for me. I personally know quads who have been down for years, literally year before the wounds eventually took their lives.


I have the technology, books and I hope patience to make this practice a positive experience instead of something to be loathed. I think I would even consider this form of maintenance even if it took one day of my weekend per week, it is that important.

So I am lucky, really lucky, my skin still heals fairly well, I have the aforementioned resources and a family who really cares for me—so few of the people with disabilities I know has these positives going for them—I just need to take the perceived blows life sends my way and just suck I up

Only Better

I am now finishing up my fifth week at the out station work project 211 and it all seems to be going very well. I have been welcomed and I feel fairly assimilated into the 211 bunch . I am no longer monitored on the phones and I am taking calls fast and furious just like the other ops and I feel like I fit in. What has been extremely interesting to me is how little patience and out right anger I am feeling toward some callers, class of callers. I feel I have felt these frustrations before but never with the fury I sometimes feel when I am yelled at or just hung up on, and I don’t know I have been disconnected until I ask a question and realize that I am speaking into dead air.


I am really amazed at how rude the general population has become. Many times, if the information we give is not what they want or meets with their preconceived idea of information the callers often become profane and somewhat explosive living me with my mouth open just staring at the phone in disbelief when the enraged caller slams the receiver down on their phone. Sorry, I digress, this was not meant to be a rant on rabid callers. That post I will keep for another day.

What I feel is the coolest thing about my new workstation is that we share a building with the FBI –which I think is pretty weird in there is huge Federal building just down the block from here but the FBI actually leases the five or seven floors in this building. I did not see any FBI folk at first but as I have settled into a rhythm, arriving early in the morning and leaving at 4:30 I am beginning to notice more and more people with the little ID badge with an American flag background :FBI. They stick pretty much to them selves but I have seen personal a couple of time. So I was intrigues the other day when I arrived at work and noted a sign directing public to an FBI job fair. I have to say the FBI was looking for a few good folk. There were good sized posters I the foyer, in the elevator and even in the bathrooms they wanted linguists fluent in English and languages the FBI are interested. On this day the feds seemed to be everywhere and they looked just like the res of us only better…

Two Movie Tickets and a Gun please

It was hot last night when I trained home from work and even though I got the early train when I got to my spot I realized I was still going to have to wait an extended period of time, in the sun for my bus the Southbound 201 to come. There is a bus shelter which throws a good shadow make for at least a little shade and I often sit in this shade and read or play on my tablet. This is what I was doing last night when this old guy, even older the me came up and mentioned that I was taking up all of the shade. I could not tell if he was joking or not so I played the courtesy and happily moved over. This was dressed nice in bermudas, a white shirt and a straw hat. He had great white hair, from what I could see, and he reminded me of the elderly music teacher who lives in my neighborhood.


So there we were standing and sitting in a little shade waiting for the bus—I noticed three different route come into to stop and leave leaving me to think that he was waiting for the same coach as me the 201. So when the last 200 pulled in and then pulled out I asked the old guy was he waiting for the 201?

The old guy kinda growled back at me that he was waiting for Grandma which sounded like “gramma”. It took me a minute to figure out what he had said. He then clarified the statement by saying his wife “grandma” had sent him out to store to pick up a hand gun. Yes, a hand gun! He was out pick up a hand gun, like as loaf of bread, pound of butter or a dozen eggs. He had been all round the Murray area and no one would sell him a weapon. I finally asked him why he was getting a gun and he methodically explained that he and his wife liked going to movies and to church so of course they would need some protection. So, here was waiting in the scorching sun, waiting for Gramma who had already sent him out on a fools errand then forgot to pick him up and who knows what now was going to happen when Gramma shows up and gramps is hot, frustrated and empty handed.

I am sure this senior is responding the events and tragedies which have swamped the national news of late. This couple cannot even find them selves on a hot summer’s day let alone a fire arm and I do not even want to think of where their terror level might be. But, 201, rolled in about then and all I wanted to do is escape the heat and the wrath of the gun questing senior.

Whoa Partner!!

I have to admit I am beginning to frighten myself and my attitude toward humanity in general as I get deeper into to this position at 211. Yesterday was a Slam Monday , who am I kidding every day is a Slam Monday—I call Mondays Slam Monday because we as operators get slammed as soon as the phones are turned on at 8:30 and usually the calls just keep on coming all Monday long. I was feeling physically challenged all day anyway. My butt was tender from the weekend and I was just miserable—I am sure this pain colored my experience as well.


I am sensing a terseness taking over my voice as I talk on the calls. I find myself not wanting to tke the time and listen to all the reasons the person is making the call at that particular moment when I am fed the next either from the cue or calls coming directly over the phone recently imported from Access Utah network. And an interesting note is—I can disengage myself from the cue—hence no more calls, all the operators can, but I cannot disengage myself form the AUN line; those calls just keep rolling in and those calls think I am going to directly help them as in case management, wrong! I am sensing a boiling rage of desperation as I can tell more and more of the callers there just isn’t anything out there. I have also noticed an edge, an unkind edge to my voice as I often, now, as I cut off the caller when they launch into their miserable lives and what brought them to make the call to my phone—too many times the caller is raging at some low-income ethnic groups whom the caller as feels has stolen all their subsidies –I just do not have time for this misdirected recrimination. There is a meanness in my voice which warns the caller to not get cute or ask for more than their share. I am trying to regulate myself, pull back the reigns and be a better phone person and not let the caller pull me down into their pool of de

Farmers Market

The dog days are here now – – it's hot every day even though forecasters call for monsoon weather, the monsoon weather never comes in, each morning the sun rises hot, promising another scorching day. However, hot as it might be I am not yet ready to relinquish the summer, this 61st summer of my life. So yesterday morning I was up bright and early with the express hope of going to the farmers market in Murray. Dianne was also up for the experience so I got the dishes out-of-the-way, dressed and we are on our way. There's a trade-off to going early to something like the farmers market. True you get access to the best and freshest produce early on but you also cannot really dicker with the farmers at this point because they still want the best price possible for their produce. I cannot fault them and I know if I would wait until the end of the day, choices are much less but so are the prices – – the farmers and most likely the farmers kids are hot, tired and want to get out of there as quickly as possible. They would dump their produce and in some cases they do and if you're lucky you can get some really good prices. But you have to wait till the hot bitter end of the day and then getting a good deal is chancy at best.

We got a great place to park just outside the opening to the market. I was amazed, the same people, same trucks the same stalls just as last year and the year before and most likely the year before that. The same kids, the market is sort of like a family reunion. I even noticed that a lot of the attenders were repeats this was easy to ascertain there's this one guy actually a woman who walks around monstrous great Dane. That Dane is a beautiful beast looks hot and bored and wishes he was anywhere then the farmers market. You really can't go now to a farmers market and think you're going to get a great price on produce, know that you're going for the experience, the entertainment in the novelty of acting in a great play of hometown America so convincingly that you really believe you are in a farmers market and that you are really going to get good prices on produce after which you will take home render up into salads, casseroles and feasts as pictured in magazines and coffee-table books about living the good life. So I rolled around and looked at people, there were really some great people there everything from grandma's to bikers and a couple of things I couldn't really identify without a medical examiner. Wish I got images of those folks but I was good and grabbed a couple images of cucumbers and backsides at the Murray farmers market.

Good Fit

I have just completed week five. I feel like an old timer both at United Way and 2-1-1 which is interesting. I feel I have just about been accepted as well. Not that my acceptance matters, since I am a short timer, I have always been a short timer, I am just passing through, the ship in the night. But it does matter to me how I appear top my peers here in the call center. I want to be sure to carry my load and not add to the load someone else has to carry. I want to be part of the Fast and Furious set of operators who sling phones during the Monday Slam when the phones are turned after a weekends silence. The crew has really opened up to me and made me part of their reality here at 2-1-1. I sense I have become part of the rhythm, the breaks, the lunch and the communication haiku which goes on between calls. I come in way early in the mornings just because I can and because I feel the early arrivals allows me to get a jump on my day—whether it’s blogging, playing with my lap top or just updating my Facebook. Many time I am the first in the first in the call center—not today the boss was coming in just before me. By the time I got to the floor and into the area she was at her desk and well on her way into her day—so, I stopped by and chatted. I had sent her an email earlier in the week about the Deaf question and I submitted my piece for the UW blog. As we talked she drilled on the importance of making sure calendars are filled out and the calendars are open to all those who need to know where and when you might be. Then she said that I had be sure I did this because now your phone calls count, we are including you—my efforts—into the group as a whole. We need to know when and if you are going to be here so others can plan their lives, work lives accordingly. She said we depend you—you being here, makes a difference and you know what that kinda makes me feel good. I know it sounds hokey and does not sound like me but it is— mean old cynical me, fitting difference on week five part of the crew.

Shields Up!!

Thursday and I am beginning to really feel the week wear on me but the wear is nothing I cannot manage enough rest and a full charge in my batteries and I feel I can take on most anything. I got two calls yesterday from my past both of which were unsettling at best. The first was/is a very needy and demanding and somewhat threatening soul from my last job, all upset about how she has been discriminated against by the state of Utah and how she was now going to take the state those who ( she feels) has persecuted her to court. I am guessing she is wanting to subpoena me and some of my co-workers at my last work station. She is currently in Montana and who knows if she will get down to Utah and what she is capable. This whole issue is just unsettling enough to put me off a fine end of summer and beginning of Fall.


The other call I got was from a past employee/friend about wanting me to put in a good word for her sister who is trying to get job here at the call center. I really don’t know how serious to take the call and the feeling I am being used, just a little bit. I really like this person—but I really don’t know her sister. Thank goodness I am just a peon here and not really an employee of United Way—really so there is very little I can do. Still both of these incidents makes me nervous and want to “raise all shields…maximum strength”.

Really I AM going to write.

Just a note—the call center is slammed and I am not getting the chance to blog like I am used to and that totally bums me out. But be assured, I will continue to blog I just have to figure out a way. Right now all my thoughts seem to be focused on taking calls and transition favorably to my new work settting. More to come, I promise.