Picking Up The Slack

Today has been a perfect Fall day, blue skies with lots of clouds which may have threatened rain and thunder storms and the temperatures skyrocketed into the high 80’s, a perfect day to visit with my next door neighbor, Al. I have been neglecting Al for the past couple of weeks—so reason specifically except I have been busy. But I found out yesterday that one of his friends, a fairly close friend died. The friends name was Parley. I new him but not well. Actually yesterday, I tied to visit with Al but he disappeared in the afternoon. I looked all over the neighborhood for him and was a bit concerned. But turns out Al had gone out for a walk and turned in a direction I had not anticipated. But he was OK.

Parley used to live in the neighborhood and he and Al had been friends for some time, I was the new comer 16 17 years ago and had never got to know Parley. Parley often came over and joined Al and I when Al and I would be out by Al’s back steps visiting. I sort of felt Parley was muscling in on our conversation. Parley lived up round the corner part of the old guard. Following Parley’s retirement from Quest he purchased a couple of apartments in the neighborhood and kept close vigil on his “units” as Parley liked to call them. Five or six years ago he had enough of the “neighborhood” and the landlord moved South to Alpine, a community in another, more conservative county about forty-five minutes away. Parley continued to keep a pretty high level of visibility in the neighborhood. Parley had the money to have a person mow the lawn, provide upkeep and generally keep an eye on his property but Parley elected to do this himself dropping by once or twice a week to mow the law and do upkeep. Like I said, Parley was an OK guy, little more conservative for my taste but he always had interesting stories about the traumas and terrors of his property and tenants. It was always entertaining to hear views of renting from the landlords perspective. Parley did not die a natural death, cancer or old age. He died from an accident semi-traumatic but I guess traumatic enough to do the job.

Parley was just twenty years older then me, 77, not young but not as old as he could have been. Parley had a huge family who all took part in the funeral. I asked Al, if the funeral was as long as conference(two hours). Al said “no” just a lot of family talks and family singing. I have attached a hot link to his obituary and that is a nine hundred dollar obit! I am sorry Parley is gone—not that I will miss him but I know that both my neighbors well especially Albert. Al is a nice, quiet and shy. He does not have a lot of truly personal friends Parley was one of those. I think Albert is going to miss Parley a great deal…I guess its up to me to pick up the slack,

conspiracy and collusion

Dianne and I saddled up and drove to University Hospital at 2:00 pm to meet with Brent the sales guy and Randy my PT and seating specialist to begin the process of ordering my new power chair. I used to go to all these event by myself but lately I have started inviting Dianne to accompany me not only as my wife but as my Medical Advocate(MA). I have been pleasantly surprised at how effective Dianne has been as my MA, particularly how through and effective she is in developing my case.
We got to the rehab unit right on time and Brent and Randy was there—

Friday afternoons are typically slow on rehab units but I was surprised to see how many people and how much activity was going on when we checked in. There were in PT students still hanging out following Randy around like adoring fans of their rock star. I was kind of surprised to note that Randy had already softened Brent the durable medical guy, up as to my desire to consider a completely new chair as opposed to fixing up my current Pride product, the Quantum, which I have liked but goes just way to slow to have to endure for another five years if I do not have to. Randy had informed me that that the chair I want, the Permobile Street Corpse/Urban Challenger, which costs way too much but does not yield the commissions that durable medical sales guys like. But Brent was OK with my decision. And sounded as if he was hell bent to push my case.

So we spent the next hour and half getting measured, talking about my needs, what I was able to do physically and how such a chair as the urban challenger would allow me to meet my vocational and social goals. This was a look on the “inside” for me, these two guys were actually figuring out how they could manipulate the system to achieve my goal getting the equipment I think I need.
I was pleased and impressed at how aggressive and effectively Dianne presented my case of the wife of a person who needed—the best powerchair on the market today. How I needed a chair which could speedily get me back and forth to my train station safely and dependably. How I used the powerchair every day and day out rain and snow light and dark. How even if the cost to us is going to be astronomical, even after insurance intervention, we will just figure out a way to pay the cost for years to come. I am not sure how we will do this but I have to have faith.

So now everyone has colluded: the PT, the durable medical provider, the MA and the crip, this is conspiracy of the highest caliber. Now Randy , the PT, is going to attempt to write the “need” letter just the right way, which my Katia, my medical provider, will sign and present to the insurance folk which will , hopefully, get the ball rolling. I am thinking my portion of responsibility is going to be between 8,0000 and 10,000 dollars!! This is not right but just the way it is. So, I have been measured and almost authorized now the real work begins… conspiracy and collusion

Power Chair and Tigers

Ok if you have been reading this blog you know I am getting ready to consider
getting another wheelchair, a power chair, hopefully more powerful then anyone I
have had up to this time. In fact, I am meeting with Brent, the guy from my
durable medical equipment provider, tomorrow at 3:00 pm at the outpatient rehab
facility I frequent. I set this appointment earlier in the week to make sure the
appointment fell on my day off. I spoke with my physical therapist(PT) Randy,
who gave me some options and specifically a specific kind of wheelchair which
Randy feels will best meet my needs. The only problem is the chair he specified
is a super expensive, top of the line, hard to convince insurance companies of
the need for such a chair. This chair would be a high performance chair made
in another country with superb quality and a two year warranty. I am talking
about a chair which could cost $15,000 or easily more. This chair would recline,
raise up four inches, and best of all travel two and one half miles faster then my present chair—which would be wonderful.

My PT also kinda of warned me that the shop Brent works for is sort of committed
to the power chair I am currently piloting which would acceptable, if I could
get a chair which would be faster then the chair I have had. I sense things are
going to get sticky before things get smooth…there are tigers across the street!

This post was supposed to have been entered Thursday!

Better Homes and Gardens

Things were slow round our house on Sunday morning and Anakah had spent the night. The morning was beautiful, as any last Sunday morning of summer should be: bright sunshine, warm temperatures and the smell of bacon, eggs and grits still heavy on the air. Anakah was using her scooter but was becoming more and more bored with nothing to do. I was no feeling as good as I could and did not feel like gong up to State street to the Beans and Brew where we had gone a number of Sunday mornings add to the fact that my power chair is becoming more and more fragile and I guess I don’t want to stress the chair out anymore then I have too. So I was happy just to sit out on my ramp and read my latest Stephen King and enjoy my last Sunday morning of Summer.

Saturday night Anakah \and I had been cruising the neighborhood, Anakah on her foot scooter and me in my power wheelchair. We had gone all over our neighborhood and somewhere in out journey Anakah had lost a bolt off her chair, the bolt which held the handle bars in place. I was impressed that she had heard the metal parts hit the road when they fell and she was able to retrieve most of the bracket but was not able to find the nut.
The following morning Anakah was focused on finding the bolt and had talked her grandmother into waging a search for said bolt. I knew immediately this was going to be a futile waist of time but the three of us set out trying retracing out steps not finding the needed hardware but leaves , flowers, lost trinkets and I even found a pair of butter fly wings. Gruesome as this sound pinned to the pavement where the vehicle has some how run over the little beat but lat the wings, mostly intact. It was about then I realized that Dianne was searching for Fairy materials. Dianne and Anakah were carrying wicker baskets and putting all the treasures we found in the basket and when we got home she ad Anakah set to building a small house in the garden just right for fairies. Of coursed the building of a fairy house was a Sunday Silly, something done on Sunday just for fun. When we got back from the search I returned to my Stephen King and later when I poked my head out of my book the two had completed their work and I was asked to inspect their labors. The fairy quarters was a work of art. I now you cannot see much from the image I have posted as is but if you were to click on image and see the image I its fullness and hugeness. Look round the house, see the toad stool? The butterfly wings are on the toad stool. The mini baskets are tooth fairy baskets. There is a quarter in on and a penny in the other. The roof is woven plant leaves and the pod count as lanterns.. Th real magic of the fairy house is the idea and structure kept Anakah busy for am ood part of the remainder of the day. Magic!

Decisions

I am loosing my motors! I found the grim news on Friday when I checked into the wheelchair repair shop to see my electric charges were seeming to deplete way to quick. I charge my batteries every night, I have to, if I do not I am afraid I will be stranded somewhere the next day. I have an “power” indicator light which works through colors green to yellow to red and finally blinking red which means I had better charge soon or I will stop in my tracks—which is not a good thing. So, now when I leave for work with a full charge I am way into the yellow by mid morning and a b linking red light my lunch time if I choose to range at all. Luckily I have charger at the office I often plug into and at least keep my power levels up.

So I go to Magic Rest, my wheelchair place, and the bad news is the motors are going and because the motors are “going” they tend to draw more power from my batteries and show that I need a charge. Though no prices were quoted, I know if I have the motors replaced it is going to cost me upwards of $1000.00 or more and there is a strong chance the costs might be covered by my insurance this good, but this is also bad. I am being pointed in the direction of investing in a new chair entirely especially since the battle of the butt sore. The talk now is to maybe consider a power chair which actually reclines that also elevates my feet! This would take to weight off my butt and hopefully cut down on the probability of pressure sores. But I am being told if I were to invest in the motors the insurance people would be less likely to justify the expense of a new chair after replacing the motors. The Magic Rest shop tech also indicated that right now, with my chair acting so odd and the motors beginning to fail that if the insurance folk would spring for a major chair up grade it would be now. But even if the insurance people go for the upgrade they will only cover the usual 70 percent leaving the 30 percent to me which could 3000-5000.00 or maybe more. Some of these chair cost up to 30,000 or more. So, I don’t know what to do. There may be a third option. The re utilization program I am part of has many motors and I am sure I could get them at a pretty good price. Hum what to do. One of my biggest concerns is that the motors will fail on my way to or home from work or somewhere out on the train line. Many things to think about.

GD2 was over this week with her dad to mow my yard. I was able to get a couple of images of Jasmine as she flitted round the ramp and yard. I am going to follow up with GD3 soon. I noticed some new images on her mom’s Myspace account. I’ll harvest an image of Riley soon They are ally beauties.

Changling

I cannot believe my last entry was Monday! Not that work has been, that busy but I have been somewhat focused this week, with a information fair I did last night, the medical appointment the first of the week, and my AT Council meeting on Wednesday and the new FOX shows I have just not done my writing. I doubt today’s entry will be an award winner either but I thought I had better check in. I have to get ready, soon, for an appointment I have this morning to have my power chair looked at. So I am busy. Like who is not right? MY health seems to be fairly good. I am not about week into the meds from last weeks appointment—though I have not heard back from Monday’s blood draw. I really need to get on some form of prostate shrink medicine. I have run out of the stuff Dianne had made for me. But the other issues seem to have cleared up and Dianne is totally excited as my body and system rebounds to better health. I still have some skin irritations I must keep an eye on but by enlarge I am back in the game,

I do not know if a new behavior I am having has anything to do with the medications I have been taking but I have noticed my behavior at the meeting and functions this last week have been remarkably different. I seem to be more friendly, out going and interested in the other participants! Was I more like this at one time? I really don’t remember but I think I may have---very strange. I have not been like this self for a long long time. I felt like a used car sales guy. For instance, I am chair for the AT Council, it seems I have been chair for ever—but I started the meeting off by telling some stories reflecting on some of the history of the organization—I never do that, that I can remember. Following the meeting and at the Open house I attended last night I actually went round and shook hands and introduced myself to strangers , again behavior I have not exhibited for a great while. Usually, I just shrink back respond only when spoken to and try to exit just as soon a humanly possible. The only change I can think of is the antibiotics. Dianne says the antibiotics are cleaning out my system and as the poisons are purged and I began to feel better I am bringing my old self back! This is a great story and I do not know if I believe the poison entirely but I sure want to and somehow makes sense. Maybe I should the rest of the regimen the Doc scripted for me—I have been dreading that one—but maybe its time as soon as I get this enlarged prostate under control.

FTOG (Frank the Old Guy ) at work is still riding me to get back to some serious writing. Its somewhat annoying but appreciated. I’ll have to start seriously contemplating the idea of serious writing.

Blue Band

You know what I cannot believe is that the Citadel of Cleanliness, a medical center, sterilizes everything except the tourniquets their phlebotomists use to pull blood.

I woke this morning fasting and usually that does not bother, I mean I wake every morning fasting only this morning I could not eat until I made it to the University hospital and have my blood drawn. The blood drawing is the result from the medical appointment I made last week. The blood draw will allow my doc to then proscribe a better prostate shrinker then I am currently using. Like I said, any other morning fasting doe not bother me this morning it did, cause I could not eat I felt dizzy and like I as going to pass out, a little, I cannot believe I am such a histrionic wuss.

Since coffee was out and my usual breakfast of either a bean burrito or a tamale and hot peppers was out as well since I had to have the blood drawn fasting I had an extra half hour this morning so I was way early as I left the house. I was so early I caught one of the early trains which go straight o the University of Utah and up to the medical center. The morning though dark was lit by the Harvest Moon which sat like amazing egg in the Western sky. I got on campus about a quarter to seven and up to the Outpatient Lab by 7:00. Of course the place was almost deserted, one lady which I mistook for a cleaning lady, or some other housing support services. After a few minutes she walked over as asked if I was there for lab services, I said I was and she said the lab would not be till 7:30 a.m., but she would try to see if she could find some tech who would pull my blood because I was there and ready.

About a quarter after 7:00 the blood staff started filing in and they looked as groggy as I felt with no coffee or food in me. One finally noticed me an asked if I was the name of the file she held in her hand. I was the only one in there who else could I have been? So she had me come over to the window and I laid out my arm and she wrapped the tourniquet found my vein and sucked my blood, two vials. I looked away for some reason this mornings extraction was a bit more uncomfortable then usual. Her name was Brenda, pulled the needle and placed the cotton ball on the puncture and I dutifully held my arm so the cotton stayed in place. A few minutes later I was on the train heading into work just two hours late. Luckily, I had worked at least two hours over the weekend at my Friday meeting.

Later on in the morning as Tory and I were arguing over who was going to take a lunch, I backed my power chair away from the desk to look in my backpack and there on the floor was the rubber tourniquet that Brenda had used in my arm. I somehow must have escaped the medical center with the tourniquet laying on my feet no one noticed. I picked up the band from the floor with my hook, when Tory germafobe indicated how filthy the band was and visibly backed a way from the blue rubber band and started her dry heaves. I shrugged and held the tourniquet at arms length and wonder how many, dirty, infected arms this band had been round and the last one it had been round now was mine.

Thanks Gabe!

Today was another one of those days where, because of ones disability, you always seem to be in the way. I have a ramp which is what I use to access my house, the ramp is build of wood and the seasons have taken their toll on the structure ; particularly the foot of the ramp. The snows and the rains have caused the end to begin “peeling” up making the ramp difficult to use especially in my manual wheelchair. The rails have become wobbly and some of the bracing underneath have rotted causing great concern to Dianne and to be to some degree. Luckily for us/me Gabriel, has skills in wood remodeling and volunteered to come over and do the work and today was the day.

Today was a perfect day for the job. A perfect autumn day-sunshine and the temps in the low seventies and just enough wind to make everything pleasant; Neighbors were out and the kids across the street were home giving Anakah something to do. Dianne was busy helping Gabe, getting him water, tools and just being useful. I was just in the way.

That’s the other thing when ever someone comes over to do something like this, really something for me I am driven to stay out with the person till the job is finished even if there is clearly nothing I can do to help except, really, to stay out of the way and just let them work. So I was out on the ramp reading, out on the ramp was the only place I could be or in the house since once Gabe removed the bottom of the ramp I was trapped in the house. So I sat on the ramp reading but where I sat sooner then later I was in someone’s way. I would move and get situated and then move again. Then I would go back in the house until the guilt would move me back on the ramp. The project took four hours and Gabe did a great job and I will be happy and grateful to Gabe and Dianne each time I go up or come down the ramp. I jut wish I could do more. Thanks gabe!!

Ships In Motion

You know how objects I motion tend to stay in motion? Well State government is much the same way. There were a number on Stat meetings set in place long before the State lunched its four ten schedule giving many employees Fridays off. I am one of those employees. Not all State organizations were as fortunate. And I have been on the board of one of those organizations. And yesterday, Friday, was one of those meeting—the DDS Advisory Board. DDS is the Disability Determination Services, these are the folks who determine if a person is disabled enough to be granted Social Security. DDS is a tough job, their management tends to push these workers hard, too hard ,I think in some cases. But serving on the DDS advisory is fairly easy duty. We, usually once every two months and they serve a pretty good lunch, since we meet over the lunch hour. Some times a hot lunch a sometimes a cold lunch but the lunches are always quality. I have always been fortunate to have the time I spend with this organization count as my work time meaning the hour I work over lunch, even though it is a lunch the lunch counts as “work time” and I can take the time off when I need it some time during that pay period.
I have also served as the Chair, of this advisory board, which is no big deal, except other perceive it as a big deal sometimes, which I think is hilarious but has dealt me well over the years. I chair another advisory board, which has sent me to numerous out of state meetings just because I was the Chair. Basically all I do is show up, pound the gavel, oif afforded a gavel, read the minutes and direct the meeting and make sure I bring ir to a close at the end of the appointed time, usually two hours. That is about it. I am amazes at how seriously the directors of programs take this voluntary position always asking my approval of agendas and even some actions the agency might take. I have never really understood this faux power but I always mention my attendance at these meeting when writing my annual reports.

I have served on the DDS Advisory Board for the past 10 years. I have missed few meetings and enjoyed the food they have offered. I have rarely made waves when waves were not needed—it’s a perk. Yesterday’s meeting was my last DDS Advisory Board meeting. I have served two four terms plus, when I came on board I finished some one else’s term which had two years remaining. I had to “step down” it’s in the by-laws, two terms, full terms is all you get. That’s OK, no big deal. I can use the extra Friday, now that I have Fridays off. And DDS will get along with out me just fine and I do have the option to be considered for service after I stay a way for a year and that decision would have to be approved by my boss who was not my boss ten years ago and I sometimes wonder how much she thinks this meeting is worth. The meals are great and the others I associate with are stimulating to a degree and the comp-time is always useful and a year is an awfully long time. And who knows what could happen by then.

Medical Advocate

Why is it the moment a person takes action against a particular issue or problem everything changes?

I have suffered with a decubitus sore I got swimming about a year and a half ago. I have suffered with this wound for a year now after a six week bout of actual physical therapy. Dianne has worked to clear this wound up all year and then last week I make the appointment to be seen by my health car provider and magically my wound begins to heal. Granted, Dianne found a somewhat miracle ointment which seems to have done the trick. So the rear end I present to my health care provider (HCP) is essentially free of problem. Don’t get me wrong. Seeing the HCP this morning was important. Dianne has developed a bunch of questions regarding me and the of me of the past year. Dianne also has generated a number of questions, I would never have brought up to the provider on my own. Like my edema plagued legs and I have a weird infection on one of my legs which everyone but me got all excited about this morning. So now Katia my HCP, wants me to take a diauretic (only on the weekend—which will wreck my weekends, I am sure). I don’t know how compliant I am going to be with some of these orders but we shall see.

The upside of the morning’s events: that I will be meeting with my Physical Therapist (PT), Randy, sometime in the next couple of weeks to begin working on a cushion and a new wheelchair, power wheelchair which reclines and will elevate my feet. ELEVATE MY FEET!!!! Seriously I am becoming more and more debilitated! Is this really happening to me?!! I am becoming a total invalid. Actually, I need to step back and look at this—I don’t have to stay in the mega crip chair all the time-but maybe I should, I don’t have to wear ted stockings but maybe I should and I don’t have to take lasix but maybe I should but I probably won’t. I mean I have got along just fine for forty years. I m really afraid that by adding something new into the system, my system, can start a chain reaction which might be disastrous to my system. I guess I am just afraid of loosing my independence and becoming more and more dependent on the medical complex.
I should accept that my independence is going the wither as I age, it is only natural, it has to it is the way of things, the nature things but I find myself resistant.

One last comment: I took Dianne as my I MEDICAL ADVOCATE! I have never done that before. Having a medical advocate is kind of frightening because the advocate tends to bring up things which I would never do—but wish I could, but am too frightened to go through the steps or the RX or the over all consequence of bringing this information to light—my thought process really is kind of warped. But Medical Advocate did and now it’s done, the information is out in he open and who knows where it will go.
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Urban Hitler

I “train” into work almost every morning and this morning was no exception except I had left the house about thirty minutes earlier then usual which meant I got downtown thirty minutes earlier. I get off at the Planetarium stop which is down by the new Mall and older warehouse district a district which is now being gentrified, “bootstrapped” into condos. The process is fascinating and I love to watching the process. Two buildings are being converted and one is looking to be one of those really nice upscale places, hard wood floors, Vulcan ranges and wine racks. It a place I ould never afford but a person has got to dream.

So today with thirty minutes to kill I thought I would take my time and check out the condo.
The building which is being converted sits across the alley of a smallish blue flat building titled “UTAH PAPERBOX CO”(UPC). The UPC thinks they own the alley between these building , and have signs posted” NOT A THRU WAY” and " Tresspassing" and the like but I have never paid attention and just drove my power chair and nothing has ever happened until today. Today as I was coming down the alley I noticed a row of windows at the top of the building, I had not noticed before: what I had thought was one giant open room was actually a row of offices, and I could see just a little of each office decorated to each inhabitants taste. I would roll a ways and stop and peer into the top of the window. I was just wandering when I got the feeling of being watched and I looked up to see a man bearing down on me with a scowl on his face. I was hoping he was not after me but that was too much to be hoping for. Sure enough walked up to be and DEMANDED “Is there something I can do for you?” translation “what the hell are you doing hanging round my building?”

I responded with something like “ nothing, just going to work.”

“Yeah, just where do you work”over there I said pointing to my building”

“Well, you know you are in a traffic zone and car are going to start coming through here any time now” By this time I was getting a little defensive,”Yeah, I know, I come this way every morning.” That was about it, because that was when I chose to zip out of there leaving UPC Hitler with his mug hanging out, an with a million things I wish I had said but did not I thought it wise and best just get out of there. The you/ I have punish my self by having ruminate for the rest of the day and think about what I am going to do tomorrow? Tomorrow, I plan to take the long way in case Adolf is looking for me.

Death

My cell phone rang last Thursday it was Mom, she said she had been trying to get us for a couple of days and finally tried my cell. When my mom cells on y cell I know something serious is up. Mom begins with the history of this call, how she had tried our land line and either message box is full or the phone did not even offer the caller, her, the option of leaving a message. Which very well could have happened since I never check the saved calls and Dianne checks every couple of days, she following the phone report with how she has tried to get hold of my older brother, who lives a couple f blocks from me the and will drive over and check on me when mom does not get hold of me like she wants to but in this case Mom could not even get hold of him so she tried the dreaded cell phone and there I was.

Mom launched into telling me of the passing of my brother’s wife’s younger sister "
sister, who is about 10 years younger then I, a distant memory from my youth. Someone you knew about but only because you knew someone else but someone ten years younger then yourself and a member of your direct or extended family she just did not registrar until your family merges with her family. Still, Mom was go on about how she wanted me to drop everything and give my brother a call, or maybe drop them a sympathy card or something. I told her I would and went back to Bones which was debuting its Fall show.

I did not make the call and I carried my share of guilt because I did not call but really, she was my brother’s wife’s, sister! I did not really know her and hardly knew the family-still what was my responsibility. Dianne thought I should call but I resisted even more.

I guess I was not ready—maybe I was scared. I rationalized that trying to get hold of my brother at anytime is a challenge but really I was scared and angry at, Jackie the deceased; How dare she die making me examine all the fears I have of death, family and closeness and my own pending experiences with death in all of death’s form and especially, finally, mine. How dare mom call me on the American Christmas Week( see earlier blog) when I was nestled infront of the TV with great care. I was mad at every one for shaking up my little non important world!
The funeral is today, in about 45 minutes, I knew it would be. I knew that my brother would be home today, of all days, he would be home and I would be able to get old of him when I called this morning right after I got out of the shower. I braced myself and placed the call. It was Ruby, my sister in law, who answered the phone. I gave her our condolences and excuses for not being there. Only then did I realize that Ruby the oldest female child in the family would also be the “ramrod” who held the family together and most likely orchestrated all the events of the past week. I heard all of this in her voice and wished we had gone. With out any prodding she informed of the death, how and when everything occurred. She was retelling the story, she was processing she was beginning to heal. I listening and she promptly handed me off to Ross , my brother. I was also shocked to feel his grieving. I somehow could not see Ross grieving but here he was plainly glad that I had called. And again, I wished I had made the effort to go up to Boise for the Funeral, for the family, for Ross. I am learning so much as I grow older, I just hope I have the time to learn all I need to know.

Perfect Day

Today has been one of those days I wish I could hold for ever—perfect temperature, almost 80 degrees, yard work and time with the neighbors—there is a feeling in the air that drastic change is coming in a few weeks, maybe as many as ten weeks, but definitely the days of good weather and other the fence lollygagging are about over for this year. Mark A was over today, mowing yard and clipping some of the limbs off the plumb tree branches hanging over the ramp. Mark has finally completed the first book he has made from scratch—just about everything except the raw ingredients. He covered the covers with naugahyde, sewed the pages ito sections and then sewed the whole group of pages together into the main book. This is his first book and he is impressed with the document as am I. It has about 200 pages and he plan to use the volume for his journal. Mark is already planning his next volume, he has ideas for changes and things he will do differently. I appreciate Mark’s willingness to take on such a challenge and go forward and learn and complete then refine. I wish I had that kind of drive.
Today is Jessica’s birthday, Mark’s oldest child. We are planning on meeting at Café Rio for dinner and maybe even including Anakah.
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American Christmas

I wore my red coat today—I thought the Red coat was a bi heavy for today, after all it is Just September 2 and technically we are sill in the Summer season. The cold front is lingering and it was cool this morning when I left for work and I was glad Dianne had assisted I were the red coat. Its now lat in the afternoon and the day has struggled to clear 70 degrees. I did leave for a bit over lunch, outside over to the mall, the sun shining an comfortable enough but clearly the Summer has left and the crisp cool air seems to matching the ever earlier sunsets.

Back at work after four days off is kinda weird. I am struggling to get back into te swing of things. The boss is gone his week and I am not in charge and not being in charge is a good thing. Frank, The New guy, is and that makes perfect sense to me. Frank is actually 100 percent staff, he IS the book keeper and likes acting like the boss. So let him have, I have much more entertainment being just one of the guys.

Calls seemed up a little today and calls were interesting too.

The sore on my butt continues causing Dianne and myself great concern—the sores are just not healing so I have started the process of contacting my health care provider am trying to schedule an appointment to see my wound care specialist, Kevin,who has not yet returned my calls. Maybe tomorrow but that is cool, I am feeling pretty good for the time being. I just my butt wound healed up but Dianne has a host of questions she wants me to have my NP address and Dianne is right and I am just a chicken: afraid of the ‘boogy man’. I need o learn to be proactive, knowing that even if the they find something worthy of fear, they hopefully can intervene right there and then to mitigate the ultimate outcome and I really should welcome that outcome as opposed to being drug into the ER in excruciating pain to find-out the cause of the excruciating pain is terminal and worse could have been prevented. What a laugh that would be? Can you tell I am really trying to talk myself into this? Butt, we’ll see( did you like that joke?)

Best of all, FOX started their Fall season last night with Prison Break I not one of my favorites but new just the same, the rest of FOX and other networks kick off next week and the week after, thanks I m sure to the RNC. Thankfully, Gustav calmed them down a little but now Gustav is history I am sure those bunch of elephants will be coming back full bore—luckily not on FOX which is sort of surprising. I revealing truth to just how shallow I really am but the Fall TV season always excites me! The Fall season is truly the American Christmas. Forget December 15—Its all September with bright beautiful electronic gifts, magically over the airways, all month long into October--something for every one, young and old—the sweet, soothing tube of TV—god bless every one.

Happy Labor Day!!

This was the summer of Anakah—Dianne watched the child everyday and got her through tennis, swimming lessons and summer boredom which plagues every kid sometime during the summer. Anyway, in gratitude Gabe and Bridget had Dianne and over for steaks and coconut shrimp. Anakah had called earlier in the day and asked if she could spend the evening—it has been a long holiday weekend for Dianne and myself so we figured why not. Anakah was specific however, that we would have to ask at just the right time. We decided to go along with her plan.

The dinner was excellent; great steak and Gabe makes best coconut shrimp and garlic toast. The dinner was later in the day 5:30 p.m. right at the beginning of a major storm system which would plague us for the next 18 out so hours. We ate and visited and just at the right time Dianne asked if Ani can spend the night and the approval and between bands of rain, when the rain was falling at its lightest we raced for the van and headed home. The remainder of the evening was spent watching our storm and for Dianne keeping track of Gustav and Anakah watching her favorite videos. We did not really stay up late and I think everyone was in bed by 10:30—with no major incidents.

One of the traditions we have fostered over Anakah’s life is to have bacon and eggs when every she spends the night and Anakah often helps with the breakfast production. I get up about 600 a.m. and turn on NPR and prep for breakfast which I did this morning. I try to make enough noise that I wake Ani but not this morning. 7:00 a.m. came and went but I got the bacon fried, cheese for the eggs, grated and coffee made. When I called Ani and Dianne the wind had picked up and the rain started falling and the thunder started. Some lightening but not too much, is after we had eaten that the wind gusted and the rain turned to hail. The cold front pushed the temperature down significantly, and because before yesterday’s storm the temperature was in the 90’s so the heat in the house is not on. Dianne went back to bed to get warm and tried to get Ani to join her hoping to get the girl to get a little more sleep. Anakah would have nothing of that and slipped out of bed as soon as Dianne had slipped off into a stormy morning nap.

Ani was bored beyond tears beyond any relief of her animated videos. I figured the best cure was to keep her busy and decided to bake oatmeal cookies. Baking cookies turned out to be a much bigger project then I had figured. We spent an hour searching for the mixer, ingredients and finally had Anakah had to wake Dianne and ask her where everything was. We eventual found everything we needed. We had to pummel the hard brown sugar to get the sugar to a useable consistency, but soon we were mixing the butter, sugars, flour and the rest and by the time we were ready to put the cookies on the cookie sheets, Dianne was up and took over. What was supposed to be 18 soft cookies turned out to be 36 plus crisp oatmeal cookies but the cookies were better then I had anticipated. I had managed to keep Ani busy for over two hours, the storm had dissipated the sun had come out and though the temperature was in the 50’s the kids across the street were out playing in the water. Ani gathered together a paper plate of cookies and headed across the street to buy her way into the games. Happy Labor day everyone!!!

Oh, by the way, Dianne's mom is just fine-she weathered the storm just fine...

High Ground

I love the wind before a storm, a storm is coming into day and the wind is ripping through the trees out my front door. The temperature is cooler today, partly due to the wind and partial cloud either way it’s comfortable in my house today. I have the front door open and the sound of the gusting wind is great. I suppose this is not the same feeling to those in the Gulf Coast getting ready for the arrival of Gustov.

Dianne is from Louisiana and knows about hurricanes and she has family still Baton Rouge and Dianne is quite concerned. We have been following the storm’s approach for the past two days mostly on the INTENRNET since coverage by local medical has been sketchy at best. Local media has been all full our coming storms and the fires in the state.

I sometimes get a little smug when I see these catastrophes round the county, especially in places where the occur frequently and am quick to say, “why would any one live there” under their on volition. I think I am safe here in the Rockies, no hurricanes, twisters( rarely) and never of any consequence and occasional heavy snows—but even the snow is gone relatively quick. But, we are not so safe here, along the Great Wasatch Front. We are just biding our time. Sooner then later our water is going to run out—its just a matter of time. We do live in a Deseret and the only reason we have what we have is due to irrigation and some benevolent deep well, which are drying up. And then there is the “big one”. The City of Salt Lake is built on a major fault line, that according to all the geologists, is ready to slip and when the fault slips will liquefy the ground and most likely destroy a good portion of this city and surrounding area. We shrug our shoulders for the most part and increase our food and water storage and return to watering and mowing our yards and watching The Weather Channel and the Five-0-Clock news and wonder why those folks continue to live in Louisiana and Florida. I have sister who lives in Tornado Ally in Colorado and she has been wiped out a couple of time but contuse to live there and she is brilliant!

I guess home is home regardless of where one lives and you love where you live or you get out. You take what nature throws at you but your are thankful for all the other days you are blessed with beautiful sunrises and sunsets, winters with out snow or freezing temperatures and great tasting watermelons. The catastrophe hits, you look round and see who made it through, help your self and neighbors, where you can, and get on with your life. My mother-in- law lives in Baton Rouge, she is elderly and somewhat frail and many in the family are trying to get her to live her home and ride out the storm with them but Mom does not want to leave her home and move in with a bunch of youngsters who is all fussing and caring on. Mom knows what she is doing, she has seen it all before and she will get by one way or another after all like she has said numerous time “ I’m on high ground here. I’ll be just fine” then she winks and says good bye.

Eli’s Coming

Back in April of this year I posted Ely’s One Dollar Concert with a link to my You Tube page where I actually had a clip of Ely “sawing” out the national anthem on his cello or base fiddle or what ever one calls his instrument. I paid Ely a dollar for his efforts because I felt funny just ripping off this footage just because Ely was playing in a public space. I knew full well, Ely was playing away for money. I do not know whether his playing was for survival money, alcohol or drug money or maybe extra cash just tgo feel like he was human. Ely clearly has some sort of disability, could be some form of mental illness and some type of physical disability as well. I marveled the first time I saw Ely on that cold wet April afternoon dressed in his hobo clothes with gloves with fingers cut-off to let the fingers through so Ely could finger his instrument. There he was just playing away. Some who have seen the You Tube footage laughed and thought he was a clown. I gave him a dollar- I should have given more, but a dollar let my conscience off the hook.

I play at writing and have been round the block a couple of times, I have even had items published mainly because mainly I have been a little active with local artists groups and foundations who have published anthologies of writer’s with disabilities work. I happen to know the person charged with putting the document together ( editor) and I know she was kind of desperate to get any kind of content—believe me as someone who has be the editor of many newsletters I know how hard getting content can be even if you pay them. When ever a book would come out, Lori would always be sure I got a check usually $25.00 not much but I have to confess it felt good being recognized with money. So, I wonder if that is what drives Ely to “saddle up in the cold and rain” and carry his instrument to wherever he is going to “work” for the day.

I believe things happen for a reason, I don’t know why they just do. I was working away at my desk earlier in the week and I happened to look up out my window, and way cross the street I noticed a little man carrying a cello case. I briefly thought about Ely and the put the thought out of my mind and returned to work. Later in the week at lunch as I was riding the train round city at lunch looking for a place to eat I sat Ely again this time close enough I shouted his name and waved. Ely looked up quickly and looked round as one does when called to in public and not expecting to be recognized. I waved, and Ely saw me, and waved back I think almost as a reflex—Ely smiled distantly trying to recall if he should know me. I saw Ely again the next day dragging his instrument up the street.

I noticed he was wearing the same out fit I had seen each time this week, brown plaid short sleeved shirt, levis socks and shoes. His beard is trimmed and his hair much shorted then in April. Each time I see Ely I call out and wave for I am truly excited to see the man. I want to know Ely, I want to ask him a zillion questions, “ why does he do what he doe, does he make any money, does he know any other pieces besides the National anthem”? I want to know Ely before he becomes a famous downtown icon and lifted out of my reach. I don’t know how to do this except wave and shout his name each time I see Ely.

BTW the reason I started seeing Ely in the vicinity of my office is the USANA Health Sciences is in town holding their annual, international convention just down the street and I am sure the Energy Solutions Arena is where is where I have seen Ely coming and going to. Ely’s play the Arena. Go Ely!!!

The Worlds Best Hamburgers

I used to atop at this little bar on the home from work, when I first came moved to Salt Lake city, called, The Club . The bar had been on the corner of 200 South and about fourth or fifth West for years and years. The place was a dive but colorful. I wish I had an image of the place—its long gone now. I think the place was raised for the 2002 Olympics or maybe even before. On the side of the building which housed The Club was a huge painting of a hamburger and a glass of Coke and underneath this huge graphic was written The Worlds Best Hamburgers. The graphic was a throw back to when burgers were actually formed at the grill and fried and the cook would then put the buns on the grill and toast them, before the burger was placed on the bun. I bring this up because today I had to run over to State street over lunch and I passed a “push cart” grill, I had not seen before. The grill was clean and efficient looked like run by two people, a man and a women, the man was cooking and busy as a one armed paper hanger. The grease scented smoke brought back all the memories of when a person could order a “real” burger cooked the way you wanted and the burger had real flavor an it was a joy to eat.

The vendor was set up in one of the best spot in town, right in front of the Wells fargo building, one of Salt Lake’s largest building. The vendor was also right by the train stop for this block. This IS the salt lake business district, the cook was backed up by as much as six orders at times. The cart was surrounded by white shirt and ties waiting patiently for their lunch to be grilled. “classic burger cheese burger, bacon burger , BBQ burger and a host of vegetarian selections were also being offered”. The cheapest offering was the ”Classic” at $5.00 add a drink and two sides and the offering jumps to $7.00. I waited for about thirty minutes before my burger was ready. And got just the “Classic” without even the Styrofoam container. I got burger that I saw being cooked. The meat was still sizzling when the vendor placed the meat on the grilled bun. I am embarrassed to confess that I ruined my slacks when the juices from the burger and condiments `swelled from the burgher, escaping the napkins provided by the vendor, onto my slacks. I did not care. I was experiencing a moment ultimate flavor not enjoyed since the late fifties.

I wrapped the burger with the extra napkins the vendor provided and still the sandwich trickled on my slacks and red shirt and munched as I waited for the train to come. I was a little self conscience as I boarded the train but not much.—the burger was still cooling and I nibbled the edges; of course the sandwich was completely gone by the time I got back to the office. I had not seen angels but I feel I did have a religious experience.

An Answer

I have to be honest I have been struggling for sometime about how to incorporate a Statewide calendar on my webpage and not overwhelm the visitor to the webpage or myself. I have had Dianne been doing some research on calendars and has found literally hundreds for the State of Utah. I could not how to figure out how I could go through all these and list the items on our web calendar—he task was just over whelming and freaked me out. But today, as I was reassessing the problem I got to thinking ‘why cannot I just develop a whole web-page of calendar links and then have one link on our “official events Page” to other disability calendars Statewide. This could actually be done relatively simply and still be somewhat useable.

Separate but Equal

I know the following is a bit of a rant but I think it's true!

There is a tem in the disability movement,” Separate but equal”. “separate but equal” means what every is offered is the same as something else but the item, event or desired result is the same but offered separately to the individual or class wishing for the specific item, event or result. This term is borrowed from the time of the Civil rights movement when the American blacks was trying to rid this country of the blight of racial segregation. “Separate but equal” was the result of “Jim Crow” legislation following the Civil war and was maintained up to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. True, the fifties brought the Famous Brown versus the Board of Education, which heralded in the opportunity for a fair equal and education for all Americans but the legislation of 1964, supposedly leveled the “playing field” for all Americans.

People with disabilities watched and waited form their time to come, which eventually did with the passage Section 504 Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 is a national law that protects qualified individuals from discrimination based on their disability. Section 504 too is basically an education act which paved the way for the passage of the 1990 Americans with Disabilities( ADA). People with disabilities became a protected class under the law. Though the ADA is loaded with loopholes the ADA is a law, and on a good day enforceable!

So why have people with disabilities allowed themselves to slide back into the days of Jim Crow and a separate but equal mentality? I have just suffered through another Olympiad, young, beautiful bodies of every color on Earth, grunting, puffing, diving and lifting in prime-time and all day on the weekends. I watched my fair share basically so my wife, who genuinely enjoys the game, did not have to be an Olympics widow. But by day 5, I could not take it any longer and descended to the bedroom television to find any other programming free of sport. I have noticed though as the Olympics wind down, NBC has started airing “teasers” for the Para-Olympics slated to begin September 6, 2008. Two weeks after the “real” Olympic flame has been doused. It’s not like NBC or other major network is going to carry coverage, if folks ARE interested in seeing the games thy are going to have to have Cable at least or a computer with a broad band hook up. But the coverage of the international pare Olympic games is another rant completely.

Why have athletes with disabilities settled for separate but equal in this time of inclusion?

I worked the 2002 Olympic AND the Para Olympic games in Salt Lake City. Both are big deals. Lots of color, lots of action, lots of pretty people from just about everywhere in the world-the Para Olympic venues are the very exact venues as the Olympic venues, right down to the memorabilia hawkers. It’s kind of eerie, a weird de je vu like, “ didn’t we just do this two weeks ago?” Are these athlete so desperate for their moment on international stage they’ll accept second best—I think this acceptance of second best is counter to the athlete’s need to be the Best in the world and not accept anything else.

Am I the only person with a disability who has not wondered why aren’t these jock and jockets with disabilities part of the “Big Show”? Why are they included with their able-bodied brothers and sister? The answer cannot be money, will actually it is, but there are millions of dollars being spent on the Para Olympic games, it could be political but I think not—I THINK IT’S FLAT OUT SEGERATION! There I have said the “S” word. Separate but equal, Jim Crow. And, we, people with disabilities, have allowed this mockery to happen. We who fought for education, access to restaurants and the movies and a seat on the bus let it slip away for a trip to Beijing and the anonymity of the Para-Olympics.

Letting go

Mark A and Jasmine were over this morning to load the lawn mower into the van so we could take it down to the Sears Trouble Center, where one takes broken Sears products. We were hoping against hope that the Maintenance agreement we had on the lawn mower would somehow pay for the repair of our nearly new, fine nearly new red lawn mower. But of course no such luck and we looked at the machine every way we could, even if we buy the parts for the repair and Mark A can do the repair the cost will still be close to the cost of a new machine, with a warranty. I think Mark A was a bit crestfallen, he really wanted to tear into the machine. He still may get to do it; we have not discussed the final disposition of the red cutter of grass. Mark A has even suggested buying the machine from us then doing the repair.

The point is people just cannot let go. The machine looks to nice to be so mortally wounded. It just does not seem right that mower now is basically worthless. John the guy at the shop said if we left the mower with him at the shop he would throw it away for us. Dianne wants to list the item on EBAY or donate it to charity for a donation slip, Mark A wants to tear the machine apart and I just want to get on to the next life event and put this behind me. I want a new (workable) lawn mower by next Spring/Summer and not have to fret over the whole thing any more. So we brought the mower back and again the mower sits next to the house, on the sidewalk leading to the front steps where, I dare say, the machine will remain all winter.

With the lawn mower adventure out of the way I continued with my adventure downtown. Drove the van up to the train and trained down to City Center stop.

I was headed up to State street and as I came on to state and headed South I noticed two Brinks armored truck parked in front of the US Treasury. There was some sort of innocent transfer of funds going on. I just sat in the shade of the LDS Social services office and looked suspicious. When I noticed one of the suits wearing sunglasses noticing me I decided ,why not have little fun? So, I whipped out my Nikon and started taking images. I really wanted to get a pix of the guard holding the tommy gun(automatic weapon). I took images of the Treasury Bank, the Federal Building across the street I am sure some where, on a building, a lamp pole or even the Brinks truck themselves cameras where whirring a way taking roles of images of a slightly middle aged, overweight crip wearing a blue T shirt and baseball who seemed to be very interested in the goings on at the US treasury Bank.

Water Water Everywhere

Today was the last Kid Day as Anakah starts back to school next week. I have just one more of my month of Wednesday vacations. Ani earned a couple more dollars last night washing dishes and she was set to buy her latte at Beans and brew. But instead of our regular “walk” round the neighborhood we stayed at the house. I did my weekly letter to Mom and Mark Anthony came over to mow the lawn and the lawn desperately needed a “hair cut” and I wanted to make sure the lawn mow happened. We had other options to consider too but too much was happening. We wanted to drop off the other lawnmower off at the Sears repair center to see if we could get the mower repaired under warranty and we still have yet to get by the furniture shop to see if there was any scrap we could take away. But that did not happen. Mark had to get back to the apartments so he took off and Ani and I lunch. We took the van because after we drove over to Mark A’s for a demonstration from the local fire department: fire-truck pulls up loaded with fire fighters, they back up to the hydrant hook up and shoot the fire cannon out over the basketball court and all the kids at the apartments for 45 minutes then leave. The temperature's in the 90’s and chaos ensues as pre-schoolers scream and yell as they enjoy the extended shower provided by the county. Jasmine is in there with the best of the big kids—soon she is back, blue lipped and chattering just long enough to check in with dad and then back under the spray. Great cooling fun.

When the trucks finally left the bigger kids evoperated and the little kids like Jasmine hung round the sand area with their mom’s and Mark A. Mark A played “Mr Science” with iron fillings he had collected from his recent trip to California. Mark has about half a gallon of filling and add a couple of magnets and you have an item which will hold everyone’s interest for hours which it did. A slow, hot lazy summer afternoon drifting into evening; popsicles were passed out and finally Ani and I had to head home. Ani had played a long while in the sandbox with Jasmine it had been a good afternoon.

Happy Together

I have to admit I have kinds enjoyed spending my Summer vacation with my grand daughter, Anakah. We have been providing some of her daycare all summer. Dianne has been picking Ani up after swimming class or Gabe would drop Ani off at the house. So on days that I have had off during the week, most notable my vacations days of Wednesdays this August, I have been taking her out, to begin with to give Dianne a break or a chance to get a little more sleep. We have been either going to Beans and Brew, up on our corner Starbucks. And last week I really shot my self in the foot and agreed to take Ani to the Mall for lunch.

The point is that I have began really enjoying the time we are pending together, even the hideous moments in the Mall where I could not go an inch without being “strong-armed” into buying something or the kid. I never did and I think she did not think for a second that I would but still we played the game.

I taught Ani how to “buy” dollars” with change. Ani would show up at the house ready to go “buy” coffee with a purse full of change where she liberated this change from, I don’t know, nor do I wish to know. But one morning she wanted to trade me four quarters for a dollar bill and I told to take it to the cashier who be happy to change paper for silver all day long. Ani was amazed but learned fast and now changes out her silver as fast as she can and often is packing six or seven dollar bills. Ani has gone with me to the credit union to cash checks and get the loan for the repair on my van—she had detailed regarding my loan status and the loan guy, Michael, fell in “love” with Anakah which is a big reason IO got my loan. Ani also charmed Scotty, my mechanic cousin, when we picked up my van last Friday.

We’re an item now, Ani on my lap as we motor through the neighborhood, going where ever we go on the days when grandpa is home from work. I have learned that Ani really enjoys doing gardening. She has helped me a lot chopping weeds out of our flowers in the front yard. I don’t know why but I was a bit surprised. She says she likes to garden because her dad gardens. People in the neighborhood and the local stores getting used to us. They think we’re cute. I see it in they eyes of the girl who work at the coffee shops or at Arbys where we are becoming regulars, against my better judgment, getting one “five for five” and a water or over at the KFC where Ani always orders the Chicken Nugget kid meal, in the computer(lap top) box. Anakah likes money(literally) way more then I would like her to but in some respects it’s all she has got and I guess I can understand this.

So we are the “mutt and jeff” couple of the neighborhood. People see us but don’t really know too much about us except that we are always there, wearing our hats, she on my his lap and he in his power chair-- who knows where…together.

Waiting

The van is done! Well, actually the van was done yesterday but since I work till 600 in the evening now, I figured, “why stress over it tonight, I’m off tomorrow and collecting the money and then securing the van will give me something to do with Anakah.

I called this morning and my cousin, Scott was out, and Scott makes all the decisions and we also realized when speaking to the shop steward, George that they did not mention the turning of the rotors and that needs to be done according to Scott. Scott informed us when we had the van safety inspected a month or so ago. So, now I figure it will be a couple more hours.

The family seems to be suffering from POSS Post Olympic Stress Syndrome, that groggy burnt out feeling one gets when you stay up way too late watching Olympic events which seem to run all night long. Damn you NBC! Its just too hard to pull them away from the tube. I go to bed but then I get woken up when Dianne comes to bed. My eyes are bleary, gritty and I feel as if I am rolling in slo-mo. The sleepers have now arisen and I am waiting for the call. If the van is indeed complete Anakah and I will go get it, head to the credit union and get the cash and be on our way. It’s been more the forty-five minutes since the call and I don’t know if that is bad news or not. All I do know is that I need to get going…Anakah’s getting way too restless and this morning’s sugar is keeping in and I got to find something or someone to keep her busy. I may write more today or maybe not…Happy Weekend

Grrrrzip

I have been struggling with my computer all day long trying to get this calendar on my webpage to update. We got the new software a few months ago, the software was supposed to make the job of keeping the calendar current easier then what we were having to do—which was contact our web design guy each time we want to change the calendar which was very exasperating but now what I am having to do is even worse. I have to develop list of my calendar updates, then zip these files up and then email it to the web designers.

I used “winzip” when I first got the calendar software. I remember when “Winzip” seemed to be everywhere now a person has to actually by the software. I got a ‘trial license’ where winzip lets you use the software free for forty-five days. I used it a couple of times for got about it. Today I am trying to use the software again but, the message I get is that I have to buy the license,. I even tried totally removing the software from my system and then downloading an new ‘Trial’ but winzip has some way to let them know I have already used the time allotted for free trial.

So now I am going to have to move heaven and earth for a $29.00 piece of software that I use a couple time a month..grrrrrr!

Rain drops Keep Fallin on My Head

We have literally been toiling over the annual report all weekend, my new three day weekend!. I admit Dianne has done the lions share of the work with the actual formatting and even composing some of the narrative but I have watched the granddaughter when the need arose, and I was a round get to ice water, answer questions and give moral support. Doing the annual report, all weekend long was not my first choice on how I wanted to spend the days but the email I got from the boss wanting to meet on Monday to discuss the “finished report” pushed me into action and sense Dianne volunteered to assist I took advantage of her experience and expertise. How ever by Sunday afternoon I was way ready to escape for little while. Dianne had made great efforts with the project and I wanted cook at last one thing over this “lost weekend” and we needed to get some supplies from the market and since I have the only working or legal vehicle in the house I elected to drive-up to the Sunshine Market.

When I took off for the market the day was beautiful, 90+ degrees, blue skies with huge cloud canyons tossed through out the sky. I went the back route third west to Clarke st up to Sunshine market, traditionally I wonder up through the neighborhoods up to State street then down to the market. By going this back rout I was able to watch the clouds. As I traveled down 3^rd West I notice the clouds seeming to come together an a thick black loud line was beginning to form.

By the time I got to the Market the clouds had definitely converged into one dark ridge. The clouds had finally moved infront of the sun and a dark hue fell over our end of the valley.

Forty-five minutes later I was done with my shopping and with double bagged groceries hanging off both handles of power chair, virgin olive oil stuffed into my back pack and a gallon of Viva two percent wedged between my legs I began my trip home. A warm breeze was now coming from the South and the dark threatening clouds seemed to be pressing the very air toward the Earth. As I turned the corner from the market and got on thje back streets to word home the first drops started hitting the ground, hard wet splats. Not a lot at first, intermittent and kind of refreshing. Then the winds increased and what I thought were splatting rain drops were actually little clump of ice, hail and the frequency was increasing. And so was I. I did not make it though. Another block and the whole sky seemed to open and hail and rain came down with a crushing force. I was soon getting soaked and finally found a tree along the side of the street with dry ground underneath. And even though I know better, I took refuge under it’s boughs. I surprised at how long I was able to stay under the tree before the rain drops began to seep through. Like most summer storm, though torrential the storm was also short lived. I was soaked also beginning to dry as I the water filled gutter to my driveway. Grocery laden, dripping and driving a chair nearly exhausted of power I was home and happy to be so.

Working on the Weekend

Its Saturday morning, it’s hot, my butt hurts and I am trying to develop( with the help of Dianne) an annual report to assist me in defusing a “Boss Bomb” which landed in my email earlier this week. Nothing too dreadful just wanting to see the annual report I should have had done weeks ago. It’s my own fault I admit it is just a tough way to spend my weekend, my three day weekend, thanks to Governor Huntsman. Thanks to Dianne’s assistance I am a lot further along then I would have been. If Dianne had not been here I would be a miserable puddle of goo right now. I still have miles to go before I sleep but at least I can see the barn. I have lots of writing to do and some more numbers to tumble but I should have multi-paged document to for the Boss to checkout on Monday.

The wound on my left but cheek still is bothering me fiercely. I have had this wound for over a year now and the thing just refuses to heal. The wound has become chronic and there for so have I. I tried staying off the wound for a whole day earlier this week and I could not handle it. So the next step I am taking is going back to the wound clinic! As much as I hate medical facilities I am at the point that I have to do something with this wound, Dianne and I have been diligently fighting all year, before it metastasizes into something even more alarmingly deadly. I know, its one of those situations where I say I cannot afford to take time to attend to the problem and the good doctor says something like “you cannot afford to ignore this issue. If you think you’re missing work now wait till this thing goes septic…” so hopefully Pain Clinic on Wednesday.

Yesterday when Ani and I went on or “walk” I stopped at the credit union to get some cash for the “walk” and I figured , why not since I was there ask someone about a loan for a vehicle repair. And there was Michael; all dressed down in his Friday casuals emailing someone something. Michael raised a finger as I initiated conversion meaning “ I’ll be with you in just one second.” And he was, Michael was great paying attention to me and flirting with Anakah. He took my information, ran the numbers and said I was most likely good for two thousand dollars which would hopefully cover the van repairs. We got all the way to the end loan application process and the bank guy who does the final approvals was out to lunch—which was OK because I was just kicking tires but I know the loan is there when and if I need the money next week when the cousin gets done with the van. The van may have been ready last night but why fuss. I just get it next week. I gotta go tumble numbers and write

Revolution

State government started a new program today: the four-day work week, four ten one hour days. I am totally excited. When I first went to work for the state, in this position, this was a ten-hour a day position, four days a week. In fact the four ten work week was one of the major factors which drove my decision to take the position when the job opened up. I was mightily discouraged when the new boss ended my run of three day weekends. I accepted the change and returned to the traditional five-8’s knowing that if I lasted long enough with the State I would somehow get to go back to the schedule I loved.

It’s a little bit different now with major parts of the state starting work at 7:00, then it was seven years ago. Before when we opened the office we had the whole office to our selves before the rest of the staff filtered in and we sent them away at the end of the day leaving a half hour after everyone else. Back in those days I drove my van into work every day so I had more control over how late I could leave for work and be to work at the proscribed time. Now I am under the tyranny of public transit which means I must leave the house by a specific time to catch a specific train to get me to my office at the time needed to start my job.

Just for the fun of it, I called around some of my colleagues and friends who work for the State and guess what? No on was there. What a shock. The office is quiet now, Bonnie the new hire, just let for the day and I am alone in the office. I still have thirty minutes to go and the afternoon sun is slipping quickly,into my window and into my eyes, making seeing the computer screen difficult. I doubt that I can write much longer. I enjoy being back on my old schedule. Actually, I never left the old schedule. I continued to come in to work by seven o clock even if I was not able to count the hour—now I an and I will be gone on Fridays.

Life is a revolution

Home Bound

I should have called my cousin’s shop yesterday while I was at the office—but I didn’t. True the phones were busy for a Friday but not busy enough to have taken five minutes to call the shop and get the definitive information as to the status of my van. I used the excuse , ‘it’s Friday afternoon and nothing practical could be done on Friday afternoon’ so I will just call Monday. So why worry about something I have no control over till Monday. The truth is I am frightened, maybe just depressed know the “fix” for my van is going to be well over $1000.00. I don’t have a thousand dollars in saving and don’t have a thousand on my credit card. Maybe, I can get more money on a credit line, or maybe I can go to one of the programs I refer callers to everyday and get a low interest or no interest loan or maybe even a grant or a partial grant which will allow me to get the van repaired but this is going to take time, something I can start exploring on Monday not Friday afternoon.

The family reunion is next weekend. I am not going to make it as I see things right now. Even if I got the van up and running I will still have to pay for the room, meals and gas. I was planning on putting these expenses for Dianne Anakah and me on the credit card which would just about max me out and a burden I would have to shoulder for a number of months but doable. Now, I cannot see how I can do it

The biggest drawback of not going is not seeing mom. Mom is frail, living in long term care and has been living for the reunion when a major portion of the kids will get together. The short period of time an aged mother lives for her only validation that she lived, had a family and that family remains intact. A quick 24 hours of crammed family, a shot to last her another year, if she has another year—most likely not. The brother and sisters and extended family I can miss for one year—I hate to but I feel they will understand but mom I don’t know. Actually maybe I am just flattering myself maybe there will be so many people there with grand kids bouncing off walls , tables and laps the wheelchair guy will not be missed, maybe a collective sigh will be heaved, “ now we can go to a real restaurant or even to one of the houses steps and narrow bathroom doors.”

You know what is really weird? What if I did not get my van fixed?

Could I go a year with out a van—really rely on public transportation and my power wheelchair—make it to work, meetings and life? It’s a seductive thought for me, almost selfish. No gas payments or maintenance no vehicle up keep. Still, in the heat of summer is one thing but in the rains of Fall and snow of Winter is quite another.