It only hurts when I move!

(Posted by proxy...)

Tuesday 1 PM
It hurt most whenever I was moved an inch. I was moved:
1. From the ground to the ambulance stretcher.
2. From the ambulance stretcher to the hospital gurney.
3. From the hospital gurney to the x ray table.
X Ray:“You may have to come back for more x rays. We don’t know yet.” Me: “Can I wait here on the table until that is decided?”
X-ray: “Oh no…we may have to x ray other people.”
4. From the x-ray table back to the hospital gurney.
5. Back to x ray for a 2nd time…hospital gurney to x-ray table.
6. And, again, from the x-ray table back onto the gurney.
7. From the gurney to the CAT Scan table.
Do you know how wide they are? Not very…especially if you are sporting a broken leg!
8. From the CAT Scan table to the hospital gurney.
9. From the hospital gurney into a hospital bed.
And then two pokes [so to speak]…first a catheter and then an IV.
“Would you like some pain medication?” [There is a God!]
“How much do you have in stock ? And absolutely!”

Next day: Wednesday 1PM
10. From the hospital bed to a gurney transport to surgery.
11. From the gurney onto the operating room table.

There are no souls in Purgatory. The gates of heaven flew totally open at about transfer#3.
At about transfer #7, I was thinking, “Just shoot me!”
After surgery, so-o-o much more bearable.
The worst was over.

Next post: My roommate: George Kostanza’s mother.

One never knows...do one...

(Posted by proxy...) Well, here I am in rehab and… would someone please hit the fast forward button so that I can resume my normal [??] life. It’s a good thing that we don’t know what’s in our future. Ignorance can be bliss!

This particular chapter started on Tuesday Feb 17 at about 12:30 , and ‘good grief Charlie Brown,’ I learned that your life path can change direction in a nanosecond. One minute I was standing on the ground talking with a friend, and the next step I took landed me face down with my nose touching base with Mother Earth. Lions and tigers and bears…oh my!!!

St Nic [good friend who was still standing] flew over to my side and among other ’O my God’ type expressions asked,
“How can I help you? Do you want me to get the wheelchair?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to call anyone to come and help you?”
“No.”
“What can I do?”
“Call an ambulance.”
Thoughts were flying through my head: my mom was on the other side of the window watching this… The siren that went off to call the volunteer firemen was for me… I had one leg attempting a different path than the other, and I knew that wasn’t a good thing… And..Flo… my heart ached for her.

I think I may have been in shock. If I didn’t move, it was manageable. But I knew I couldn’t stay there [on the ground] forever.

The ambulance arrived, and I asked them if we could leave without the siren going so that Flo didn’t have a heart attack. Four very wonderful volunteers did a “1-2-3-lift” and away we went. I apologized to them for the extra chocolate chip cookie or two that I have eaten over the years. They were very gracious.

I have many stories to tell, and some are very funny. I will write more as the days go by. Let me sum up today’s post with: They affixed a plate and I had 9 screws [and I slept through it!! Darn!] to put my leg back together…and now I am ‘a hopping down the rehab trail’ …hippity hoppity ‘home’ is on its way!!

Thanks go out to many people who have helped in many ways. Flo said it best, “We’ll get through this.” I know we will.

More stories to come! Like…
3:30 AM sitting on the toilet, and the helper says to me, “Were you a teacher…a 5th Grade teacher?” Yep…yep…a former student of mine! Oh joy!

"Tell them I broke my flippin leg!"... and other bedside stories

Hi all. Guest blogger Kate is online today, sub'ing in for the teacher when she's absent. By now, a few have you may have read the hidden comments buried under Glinda's last blog entry, where both Diane and I quickly jumped in to let you all know what happened to our teacher extraordi-Mare.. But if you're not yet 'in the know', then take heart - I'll update you now, licketysplit.

Which is precisely how it happened -- or at least how fast. Actually, when I asked her to paint the picture for me, Mare recounted it as happening "faster than the light turning green, and the horn behind you honking..." So what are we recounting? A broken femur; suffered after merely watching the bird feeder get filled after a day out and about with Flo (or rather, "grandma with the butterfly" is how she's known to MY kids.), and then simply attempting to turn around and walk back into the house.

"Ding-ding-ding, in THIS corner, introducing the teacher from Auburn, AAA drivers ed guru and hospital volunteer... our champion, Glinda!" ..."And in that corner, our underdog and challenger ......MUD." Really? Seriously?? Well, with all the snow, sleet, rain -- the ground was wet, a tiny mud puddle rested right near Flo's wheelchair ramp...Marianne's foot hit it JUST RIGHT, and twisted LEFT, and that was that. Not a car accident, no major drama, no really incredible story. Just a simple 'why oh Lord did you have to go and do that' slip and fall. If He could just turn it back 3 seconds; but no. Instead, you turn the wrong way (or in this case, she did), and CRACK. And that was that. Down she went. Oh, and she heard it too - that nauseating, sick-to-your-stomach-just-thinkin-about-it noise... oh, my heart just sank for her as she told the story; thinking about the fact that she had to hear that depressing and aggravating break-noise -- and suddenly for Mare ...the whole of time shifted, like a train switching from one track to the other with the engineer's simple flip-switch lever.

So... Marianne's in the hospital. Surgery was successful, although "you wouldn't want to be standing next to me in a lightning storm" she says. Pins and rods there to stay (airport security will now be REALLY aggravating). She'll be inpatient likely until Monday; and then moving on to Rehab for another couple weeks after that (... I hear in my head now Amy Winehouse..."They tried to make me go to rehab; I said 'no, no, no'...). Between the family, friends, those wonderful nurses and aides -- and all the well-wishes you're already sending on -- Florence will be just fine, so don't fret about her. And; so will Aunt Mare, ultimately (frankly, this might just be God's way of forcing her to sit down a take a ... break.) ugh ;-)

Glad I got to write in for a day. Diane or Jeremy - feel free to jump in with more info! If I have more updates from Glinda for you all - I'll put them up; though I'm not nearly as eloquent as my American Teacher Idol (she kicks my butt regularly on facebook's Scrabulous). Aunt Mare and I are kindred spirits and (we say) "generational twins"... Now let's just hope I don't go and break MY leg in some bizarre sympathy twist!! LOL.

Best to all of you!! Warmly, Kate (that's all of us, when I visited with the kids in December.)

Monday...an eclectic post.

This morning on the news, it reported/analyzed the possible reasons that the plane crashed in Buffalo. At the point that they shared that when the plane had stalled in the air,... and then...something about auto pilot...I had a 'TMI' moment. While I knew about the auto pilot status [don't understand it at all], the part about the air plane stalling in the air and what pilots do in these situations,...well... I couldn't quite grasp it. I never knew that air planes stalled while flying, and I didn't need to know it either. It was too much information for me.

I started the day by meeting a friend for a quick breakfast at Mickey D's...I love their 'Egg Mc Muffins'!! We happened upon a table of former coworkers, and sat with them to catch up on what's been happening in their lives since retiring from the school district. And then, off to run some errands.

The Ladies Auxiliary at the hospital is sponsoring its yearly card party to raise money, this year to go for wooden bassinets in the newly reopened maternity ward. My job is raffle prizes[ donations by local businesses] and to buy the scratch off lottery tickets that would be raffled off as a lottery tree. I went to two different places and bought 36 scratch offs [$50]. We are also having a 50-50 drawing. And next we sell the tickets! Last year I think we raised $1500.

At home, I also have a couple of random 'draw a name' contests for Survivor, The Amazing Race, Dancing With the Stars, American Idol, and Celebrity Apprentice. Flo, who has probably won 4 times, really enjoys having this to look forward to at night. So, as I volunteered at the hospital desk, I addressed the envelopes to mail out that info to all who are participating. It keeps many family and friends in touch . Let me just say that I have never won.

All was going well until the moment when a woman arrived to check in and her perfume would have knocked you out. It was a very, very heavy smell that even hung around after she left. Dr Oz on Oprah says that you can't smell your own breath. Is it the same with your own perfume? Could it be that she was unaware of the powerful statement that her perfume shouted 'on her, around her, and after her' all the way to the room she was brought to for her procedure. It caused a reaction somewhere between a headache for me and a closing of the throat for a

fellow worker. Wow! I was happy to leave when my time was done.

Home. Some computer hearts and wordscraper.

Some chocolate.

My funny valentine...

Who is my funny valentine?

This is Hank.

He is my grandpuppy.

A gentle giant, a playful soul, a shiny burst of fun!

Mine for the duration of the Syracuse/Georgetown game.

He is also the poster dog for ADHD...attention deficit hyperactive dog!

This dog is generally always in motion. He did not lay down, nap, or give it a rest.

Hank got all of Grace's toys out to play with while she monopolized the rawhide bone that was guaranteed to keep him busy for two hours.

The cat hid behind the sofa, but you couldn't fool Hank!
His nose told him, "I smell a C-A-T back there!"

They never did meet...thankfully.

Well, I've been exercised, and Mom's ears have been licked,

And wahoo...Syracuse won in an overtime shift.

A good time, yet we are pooped...Gracie, the 'Scout'cat, my mom, and me.

No one will rock us to sleep tonight!

In the great big scheme of things...

It's small stuff. That is the phrase that often helps to bring me back to refocus on whatever is on my mind. I know that I've said it enough that I have other people saying it. Well, now I am stuck. Twice in the past week I have heard some discussion relative to the injustices happening to our veterans coming back from the war. The first time was on the radio attempting to raise awareness about the families of the vets needing help. There is a website explaining the details:

http://www.operationfamilyfund.com/
OUR MISSION:To assist the injured and families of the those who have been injured or killed as a part of the Global War on Terrorism, whether domestic or abroad, military or civilian, with financial grants for transitioning to their new circumstances and achieving financial self-sufficiency.

I have heard the reports on tv and radio about how our service men and women are not getting the help they need...both emotionally and medically. But today, there was a conversation where I was volunteering about the post tramatic stress that is ruining the lives of both the veteran and the family of someone I know. And this was a personal story...and that's when it hits home.

How do these men and women forget what they have experienced...what they have seen or heard and the orders that were carried out by them.

I cannot say my usual, "In the great big scheme of things, it's small stuff." I think it's huge.

I am passing along the website for your information. I, personally, don't believe writing to your congressmen will affect any change. I think I have lost confidence in the Congress.

Sorry for the heavy topic. It's been on my mind.

Ain't it funny...

I was watching television and there were several bands performing. What was fascinating was that they were bands from the 50's, 60's, 70's, etc. which is the music that I grew up listening to and the lyrics are all stuck in my head. Naturally, these singers have aged physically over the years. I wouldn't have been able to tell you that the band about to sing was 'Little Anthony and the Imperials', until they began to sing. They sounded exactly the same as they did in the 60's!

Paul McCartney was on The View a couple of weeks ago. Now, I can obviously look at him and know it's Paul McCartney because I have enjoyed his music from age 13 and he's still producing new music. He has aged, and yet he still has a bit of that teenage 'baby face'. When he picked up his guitar and began to sing, you could close your eyes and be back around 'Ed Sullivan' time.
Our bodies age...some things remain the same.
Your voice, your eyes, and your laugh are three steadfast markers that I think remain ageless.
And isn't it funny that people, specifically the next generation, can sound exactly like the one before it. Have you ever called someone thinking that you were talking to them and it actually was their son or daughter? My brother laughs with the exact sound and inflection of my [late] Uncle Freddie. It's unbelievable!
Handwriting: My son's handwriting is very similar to his father's script.

Yesterday, I was having lunch with a friend from around the timeline of my arrival in NY, meaning a friend of 30 years+ a few. We were talking about a little bit of everything and an acquaintance from 30 years ago stopped at our table to chat for a moment. After she left, I was thinking that on the outside I look different than the person I was 30 years ago, but on the inside I don't see the definitive changes. Certainly, I am in a different place in mind and body. Parts of me are very different; some are exactly the same. Boggles my mind.

Kids...education...cuts...my personal opinion.

Today I traveled back to the school where I taught because it was time for their annual musical. This year, it was 'Music Man [Junior]' and I was told that 80 kids were a part of the singing and dancing. The music teachers are wizards when it comes to this. Many, many successful productions have preceded this one, and now they perform at the high school because there was a renovation project which included a brand new auditorium. It is always fun to see the transformation from , for example, annoying kid in your math class who doesn't do his homework often enough...to a singing and dancing marvel whose lines are all memorized and the performance was 'well done, too!!'

Well, today I realized that when you don't know the kids, it's certainly not as much fun. I have been retired for 4 years and since the building is grades 4-6,they were all unfamiliar faces. It was still great to see kids get to show a different side.... other than their 'I must pass the state test ' persona...which by the way has already taken its toll on the 'cut, paste, and make it yours' types of activities. Those minutes now go to 'that which is tested, with the results compared to every district in the county published in the newspaper, and monitored by the state. Don't think for a second that I don't understand the value and importance of reading, math, soc st, science, etc. And that priorities and guidelines needed to be addressed.

My personal opinion is when kids eat healthy food, get sufficient sleep, spend fewer hours in front of a screen [ tv, play station, computer, cell phone], and have someone who helps them keep school a top priority...when that happens you will see the scores go right off the charts. Part of the roll of "Be a Parent" not a friend.

What worries me is that with the current economic climate, the discussions will begin about what to cut. Will it be staff? We have already seen the library staff take a hit. Will it be the arts? Music, Art, and Phys Ed, develop special skills as well as people skills. Will it be extra programs? Sports? Clubs?

The bottom line seems to always come down to money and property taxes. I'm not rich, I pay school taxes, and I don't have any kids in school [now]. But I can see the bigger picture and our future depends on the next generation of thinking, capable, and productive citizens with people skills. And that is an investment of time and money. Pay for it now...or pay for it later.

Be a part of the solution...whether you are a taxpayer, a parent, a concerned person, or a future senior citizen.

Oh yeah...the musical today...to all who were involved...Bravo!!

I know that a lot of time and effort went into it, and the smiles on the kids' faces at the curtain call were priceless. I hope there are many more to come.

A challenge to you: Listen Up.

My son returned to his home on a flight from NYC to Buffalo, and called to say that the plane had landed. And then he made my heart smile with the words, "Mom, you would have been proud of me!"

"Why is that?" I asked.

Jer told me that he was seated next to a very nice older man [80 ish] who just wanted to talk. And talk they did! The man reminisced about his years in Korea while in the service, his kids, grandkids, and that he and his wife were married 61 years...And when he was unsure of details or timeline, he would look across the aisle and ask his wife who would look up from her crossword puzzle and help him remember. In my mind, I could picture my friend Janet's father and mother in exactly that scenario. Bill loves to talk, and what great people [ my adopted family]they are!!

Jer said that on an airplane most people do their own thing, and lots of time would discourage conversation beyond the usual greeting amenities. But he had the feeling that this man just felt like talking, to which I said, " He was probably surprised that someone was listening to him!" And it was a very interactive chat, from what I'm told.

And I got to thinking how there's generally more talking than listening going on most of the time. Have you ever had a conversation where you couldn't get a word in edgewise, or you knew that the person wasn't really listening...that they were already forming what they were going to say next...and were merely waiting for their turn? And especially with older folks, I think that they don't get listened to as often as they are dismissed [ so to speak].

While my son was growing up, I encouraged him to be friendly, outgoing, and cooperative. [Bossy, shy, and play the game my way or I'll take my game and go home...are not the most desirable traits nor are they very appealing].

While in school, I campaigned for 'be flexible, have a sense of humor, and do YOUR part in getting a good education. [This was also a bulletin board in my classroom, too].

Sometimes I know I'm about to get good news when he starts a conversation with, "I know that sometimes you think that I wasn't listening to you, but let me tell you that today ......."

The irony of him conversing with the older man on the plane is that Jer can often be a man of few words. In our daily hellos I've been known to say, "I don't want to play 20 questions today, so...String a few sentences together for me!"

He has said that phrase to me a couple of times, too. I guess turnabout is fair play!!!

And yes, Jer, I am very proud of you listening to that man's ramblings.

And I'll bet he won't forget it, either!

And so here is a challenge for you:

Listen , I mean really listen, to someone [bonus points if they are elderly or single as in not married]. Care to share the results...

I'm all ears!

Super Bowl Award

For me...

One of the most memorable aspects of this year's Super Bowl was Jennifer Hudson singing ,'The National Anthem.'

Jennifer Hudson had worked her way up from an unknown singer to winning an Academy Award for her performance in Dreamgirls. And then, she was sent to a level of despair that I wouldn't even want to imagine. After months of seclusion and mourning the deaths of three loved ones, she emerged at the Super Bowl to sing again in front of millions of people. I found it to be very courageous and God Bless her...she was amazing!!