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Posts tagged ‘Gratitude’

It Pays to Rethink Things (Revisit)

This post was originally published on November 28, 2023.

26 April, 2023, is the day I spoke my truth for the first time. I wrote about in “When Sanctuary is Offered.” I meant every word then. Really, I did. I was also willing to give up the social life that was so destructive to my mental health.

27 November, 2023: the day my hearing deficiency was dealt with.

I don’t do 9:00 a.m. appointments. If I have to walk, take the bus, and be out of the house that early, it doesn’t work. I’ve set that limit with people. Today I had no choice and arrived ten minutes late. As it turned out, 9:30 would have been soon enough. The Monday chaos of gathering, prepping for the day, and being ready for the first clientele was interesting, and frustrating, to watch. Oh well, with my morning caffeine in me, I walked into the room. I had an agenda: better hearing aids that would be covered by the insurance. I had a list of requirements. Was I nuts? I’d soon find out.

An intense trio of hearing tests confirmed my suspicions: I’d lost a wee bit more hearing. I wasn’t shocked by the news, as I was prepared to hear the number. What I wasn’t expecting was what happened next. 

I love the “gadgets” that I’ve worn for seven years. I’ve put off getting new ones because they were the best! Well, they were the best until they weren’t, and I finally broke down and made the appointment at the ungodly hour of 9:00 in the morning. UGH!

If one has to do the unthinkable, then I advise a list of the absolute requirements. If those can’t be met, don’t do it. This is how the second half of the appointment began.

The new ear molds had been made. My ears are even petite. First item: Are these things covered? Yes. OK, let’s move on. I want the chargeable, and not the battery, type. Now, here’s the crazy part. If you go with batteries, the insurance will cover some of the cost. At 90 euros per box, and a three-week battery life per set, you will go through some boxes. I’ll buy the charger, thank you. Personally, I think the insurance didn’t think that all the way through.

Moving forward: What can you do for my hearing in a social situation? How about a microphone that does a couple of things? It will link with your desktop, and it will serve as a microphone when you need to talk with someone in a densely populated social setting. I WANT!!!! The insurance covers it. Oh yes, I’ll do it. This is the answer to multiple issues. 

By now, I’m feeling like I just had Christmas, and Santa answered my every need and want. It is true that I just inherited more chargers that will replace the ones that will be given away, but it’s a good trade-off.

My bag had three boxes in it when I left some two and a half hours later. As I walked home, I noticed the feeling of gratitude that I was feeling and took the time to honor it properly. As the gentle rain hit my umbrella, I had to focus on the path I was on. My heart was full, and as I entered my home, I was excited to try out the new gadgets. I cried when the mic put the sound into a better hearing place for me. I was calm, relaxed as the stress of listening changed from difficult to much better. 

Tomorrow is Giving Tuesday. It is a day when people in the US give to charities. While I do have a co-pay on this new hearing aid, it is not what I would have needed to spend had the insurance not covered things. 

I have no more words for what happened today. They aren’t needed. The gratitude that I feel for what I have sitting in my ears is goon enough.

The sun set around 4:30, and I’m thankful to be in a warm house. It is time for some dinner and a relaxing evening. I need to start thinking social again. Yes, I just said I’d socialize again.

I Will Walk Out of Here

photo of person using wheelchair

I never thought I’d be spending six weeks in a wheelchair. I also never thought I’d get so good at wheeling myself around. This ability has surprised me, and I’m proud of the fact that I’ve been able to get better at it the past six weeks. I’ve learned a few things as well.

I’ve become more patient with myself. Walking is something most people do without thinking about it. Once we’ve learned to put one foot in front of the other foot, we do it automatically. If we suffer a stroke or other brain injury, then the task of learning how to walk is something that must happen again.

Learning how to not walk is another challenge; we must wheel ourselves around just to shower, to dress, and to do all things that go along with preparing for the day. I can’t walk to what I need; right now I roll to what I need, and I must think it out. So I roll to underwear, socks, and then what I want to wear. Then, once I have that secured, I can roll to shower myself, and this will take assistance. 

I’ve had to learn to safely transfer from a bed to a wheelchair. Soon it will be devices such as a walker or a rolling walker that will give me more mobility, and then independent walking, putting one foot in front of the other.

Before I leave the chair, there are lessons that I’ll take with me.

I can do more than I thought I could do in this chair. I’m fairly self sufficient, and for a person with only 12% of her sight, that is pretty darn good. I can roll this thing anywhere I need to go. I’m still building arm strength. The arm that was damaged in the minor stroke that I had is coming into new strength. I’m asking why this wasn’t done at the time of the original rehab. It is happening now, and I’ll look for ways to keep the arm building up strength. Rolling is good physical therapy.

If I need something from nursing staff, I buzz, and then go into a queue. I’m becoming patient, and realizing that others here may not be as able as I am, and so I’m learning to wait. Waiting has also been motivation for me. Can I do the transfer alone? Can I do what I thought I needed someone to help me with on my own? Each success has built on a foundation of a new understanding and wiped out the fear that happened with the fall I took. I can do this! I’m doing this! With low vision I’m pulling this off. WOW-lesson learned: when you are put into situations that limit you, the human spirit chooses to crash, to rise, or to slowly trust that there is a way to rise to new highs. Fear only has a hold on us when we believe there is no way out of where we are. Hope offers ways to get to new places.

This week they’ll x-ray my leg, and I’ll be told if it’s safe to walk on the leg again. I’ll enter a new cycle of fear, learning to trust that I can put pressure on the leg in real time, and trusting the physiotherapists to not allow me to go faster then is prudent.

Physiotherapy by its nature is going to cause me pain. My mind by nature is questioning what happened, and if it will happen again. Now I know it can happen, and I’m doing the prep work to “Gail-proof” that house with some security measures. When stuff happens, we get cautious as we have thoughts about it happening again. It is why a grandparent warns children to not get too close to the edge: it isn’t that they want to deny fun to the children, but rather because they’ve lived long enough to know that unexpected things happen to all of us. We trust our bodies to be predictable when in reality they can be faulty, and when the faulty stuff happens we wind up in the ER asking why and hoping for good news. Listen to older people because they’ve seen more than you have by nature of living longer.

It is true that what I’m talking about is not wisdom. I’m talking about life experiences and general knowing.

Ultimately, we’re led to do the journeying our souls and hearts need to do. The unexpected has a way of bringing us surprises that can benefit us. My fall was a seven-week life detour, and while I haven’t enjoyed it, I’ve learned from doing it.

Last week they moved me. The room I’d been in since my arrival had a view of the tree and the window in the house across the street. The image that I saw daily looked like the perfect cover for an old Nancy Drew mystery. They’ve move me to a place further away from the tree, and now I’m looking at the employee parking lot. The movement came with other changes as well. The biggest change is that I can see how far I’ve come in six weeks. I think the huge change is the fact that I’m expressing far more gratitude for what I can do and for those who have engaged with me to bring about the change. The charge nurse on my first day here looked me in the eyes and said “YOU CAN DO THIS,” and I was annoyed by that statement. Now I’ve done much, and in the next ten days I must launch myself to new heights. I will walk again. I will walk out of here. 

Switch-a-Roo

Nothing ever happens on track one. It is lovely to look at. I call it the saltine track because the wall is made up of blue tile and looks like the old Saltine Cracker boxes of my childhood.

Today, we all went to track two and waited patiently for the Utrecht Centraal train to pull in… until… that little blue notice popped up. I saw mass movement, and then read the thing… go to track one! Like I said, nothing happens on track one… until it happens. I went to track one where everyone, and a dog, waited for the train. That is how the trip began.

It didn’t get any better on the tram!!! The train for “Science Park” was on the wrong track. Fortunately, they had staff down there for confused travelers like me. Where are you going? UMC. Over there. Another switch-a-roo! At least this one was a quickie. Have I mentioned before that these trams fly? I’m constantly amazed at the tech that runs things, and I’m always thankful that it pulls into the station, letting me off with a short walk to the sky bridge. Once I board the train in Hilversum, it is all covered. On a day like today, when the cold has arrived, it is a gift. 

Traveling is something I’ve written about previously, and on the eve of what will be celebrated tomorrow as Thanksgiving in the US, I pause to give thoughtful thanks for the things that work smoothly, even when they might sprout a glitch or two. 

Gratitude has been a challenging lesson for me. I’ve had to learn to come to terms with a disability that has caused me pain, and taught me much. I’ve had to grapple with shyness, isolation, and compassion fatigue. The disability has challenged me to do things I thought I couldn’t do. I spent twenty-two years caring for my husband as we both witnessed the disintegration of his functionality. Yet, on this early evening, tears of gratitude come to me.

Today, a pause to give thanks to those who have loved me, given me support, taught me to go beyond where I am. Today I’m giving thanks for parents who cared, and did a good enough job parenting me.

Tomorrow my family will gather for the traditional picnic that we do at Lovers Point in Monterey, California. I will think of them eating whatever it is they decide to eat, especially the pumpkin pies that will be served up. I wish I could be there for that.

I pause to give thankfulness for the life I have. It isn’t perfect by any means, but it is mine, and I claim it.

As I sit in my warm home, and think about the fact that I have it, I’m content. I’m content to slow down some, work smart, and enjoy some of the simple pleasures to be had. 

I’m keeping this post short because short works, and I need to switch off for the day. Hug those you love, send gratitude out to the four corners of the world. Most of all, practice self-love, care for yourself, and send a smile to those you greet. Smiles make the switch-a-roo go well.

Gail

When

“Mommy, are we there yet?”

The woman in the front seat of the car is fighting the urge to turn around and duct-tape her child’s mouth shut—permanently. This phenomenon has happened on every long journey since time immemorial. Then the mother has this flash in her mind that carries her back to the beginning of time and particles smashing together. Maybe it even happened with the sludge of the universe as the Big Bang occurred. Imagine two atoms: “Are we there yet? Are we done yet? Can we get on with the Paleozoic Era?” But, duct-taping them would have caused a disaster. She smiles to herself instead and continues to focus on the road ahead.

Maybe in the grand scheme of the cosmos, delayed gratification is one of the great laws. The universe took the time it needed to come to its present state. That can teach us something. The universe was formed with only what it had on hand from the first moment all things slammed together and all things followed in order. No credit here. It waited. The universe used its resources where it needed them, when it was ready for each new phase.

Let’s face it: Putting pleasurable stuff off is a drag, but a necessary drag. Delayed gratification is about learning to respect the journey. Delaying gratification is about knowing that you can never have it all, instantly. Delaying gratification is about learning to work for what you want—waiting for the good stuff until you can get it in a healthy fashion.

But isn’t that a myth? You well remember that last flick that showed someone having it all: the big house, expensive car, fashionable wardrobe, fulfilling job, loving family and friends, and, let’s not forget—physical beauty. But, it rarely comes instantly. Real success, like the universe we live in, is painstakingly forged one item at a time. Yet, today, there are those who can’t wait. Saving is a thing of the past. Sorting out needs from wants is becoming blurred.

Remember childhood with its lazy times of fun and exploration? If you are old enough to have been raised during a time when play was really creative and done outdoors, you perhaps remember when books were a passage into another world (and not instantly made into movies), and TV was something that you watched for very few hours weekly. If your childhood was like this, then you are one of those who learned a valued lesson: doing fun things takes planning and time.

It is also highly probable that chores and learning to work were a natural part of your life. You had to save for what you purchased. I remember going to the store to purchase some shoes I’d saved for. For weeks I walked by that store window and looked at those slingbacks. Getting them made me feel “adult” and responsible. I earned those shoes. I wore them out proudly, had them repaired, and continued to wear them out.

For each of us the lesson is different: Anticipation is a good thing. Anticipation makes the gift we are receiving more intriguing, the new dress more exciting, and the new car that we saved up for more valuable. Anticipation gives a deeper meaning to most things we have and desire. There is a type of magic to working for something. Keeping it becomes valuable to you because to discard it when it still works means that you are discarding your hard work. Tossing it out just to get the latest thing can be an issue.

As I think of all the technology that has evolved since I was a kid, I remember that sunny, July day when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin touched down on the moon and life as we then knew it was altered. The moment was electric. Now it seems that much of the “electric” has gone out of innovation and progress. Progress is a constant in an advanced society. More and more, having it all instantly is a must. Trading up for the latest in tech, when the old is still of value, is common. To suggest that you keep what you have might be heresy. It is about having the latest and dumping the old. There is a rush on to have it all NOW with no waiting period.

We now have smartphones, smart drugs, and smarter cars, and yet we have not become any smarter ourselves. While results are faster, we as humans are still finite. We live through our technology. We live, thinking and feeling as if all answers must come fast, as if deeper thought should somehow be instant. We want that insight NOW, rather than being willing to let life teach us. We might even become impatient when our first few searches on Google fail to turn up what we need. Searching shouldn’t take us so much time. Why can’t we get it faster? Well, searching on Google is hard work, that’s why. Finding the correct answer does take some deeper looking and heavier reading. In the process you might conclude that there is not a perfect, or good enough, answer to your search, and that maybe it DOESN’T exist out there in cyberspace.

Remember when science was supposed to save us? Remember when the Peace Movement was the answer to conflict? Remember when autonomy was the answer to authority? I think we need to reread The Glory and The Dream by William Raymond Manchester.

Maybe we as a world need duct tape on our gratification instincts. Okay, that is an eensy, weensy, bit extreme. Or is it?

I have taken up baking. It is wonderful to create something that comes out of the oven and is warm and yummy. The fact is that baking demands that you wait. There is a proper time when eating will bring the desired pleasures of good food. Just think of something you love melting in your mouth and your brain will light up in anticipation. Your mouth might begin to prepare for the pleasure as you read this. BUT, you have to work to make it, so you had better make lots of it to enjoy!!!! Yikes!! I want to eat those scones I plan to bake for Saturday, but I want them right now!!!

The whole idea for this commentary came from a conversation I had with someone about the guide dog I’m working on getting. I’ve been in this process since 2010. At this point, I just want to move on. I’ve had to think about whether I’m ready, or even wanting, to move forward, because I can’t wait. Like the universe, I have had to work with raw thoughts. I’ve had to shape and train them. Crossing the street in safer places has become a must. Thinking about HOW I’ll do it and memorizing routes takes time. Learning the train stations and bus stations has been fun, but I’m glad I’m past that.

I’ve had to reevaluate my established walking routes, my future needs, and the needs of our cat, Penelope, who will have to welcome a dog into the house. Getting this dog is life changing, and making the correct choice at the right time is important for our family.

I’ve spent 15 months in Apeldoorn learning what things that I’ve needed, and lacked. While I was in Apeldoorn, I was also able to observe others with dogs. My process is of more value because of all of this. While I don’t want to rush things, I feel the time has come to move things along. It isn’t about “when” but rather about the process and how secure I feel with it.

Childhood is all about “getting there.” Young adulthood seems to be moving in the direction of attempting to get it as fast as possible and show it off. Eventually there comes a time in life when you reach “wisdom,” or the point when you accept that you never will fully have everything you think you need, but that you can have the “needful things.” The journey is what it is all about. Saving up for the good stuff is where the greatest reward lies. Understanding our real needs and allowing ourselves to have wants that might become realities brings peace through expectation.

“Mommy, are we EVER going to get there?”

“Yes honey, count the green and red cars, and tell me how many you can find.” I’ll be content to count the red and green cars until the doggy enters my life. I hope it is sooner than later because I feel better about “it” coming into my life now.

*Note: The dog turned out to be a no go.