One month later...there's been a miracle

It's been a month since I checked my mom out of the rehabilitation nursing home.

On the day she left, she was undernourished at 109 pounds, ( at 5'7"), had been diagnosed with pneumonia three days before and her spirit was so broken she nearly left this earth. With the efforts of my family, the home health care team and her strong Irish grit will to live and be her own person again, I am pleased to report, that after one month, the Betty has recuperated, and is now onto recovering her life.

The first order of business was live like a cat; eat, sleep. Eat, sleep. Be happy. Eat. Sleep. Her stomach was shrunk to the point where she could barely eat a quarter of a sandwich. She was so weak, that going from the bedroom to the bath room was a monumental task. The antibiotics she was taking for the pneumonia she contracted in the rehabilitation center were making her irritable and more anxious, among other things. Slowly, with the dedication of the aides and infinite patience on their part, we worked 24/7 to help her recover from pneumonia, maintain muscle tone to walk, and gain weight through a slow and gradual increase in home cooked nutritious foods. I stayed with her for three out of four weeks, with Team Betty, leaving for one to come back refreshed and able to look at things with perspective and I realized a miracle had happened right here; we saved her life.


During one of the many, many hours I sat at her bedside during the first part of the summer she spoke of longings for things we used to do together; one of them was "get a dog" at the park outside the public library in my hometown. 'Get well so we can go to the park' I would say to myself as I held her hand and sent her positive healing energy through her fitful haze of overmedication, lack of nutrition and bone tired weariness.

So today- after an appointment, Mom decided she wanted a hot dog from the vendor who sells them at a stand in the public library's tree lined park in my home town. We found her, parked in the shade, and I brought two dogs with yellow mustard and the last root beer to the car. We shared the root beer with two straws, enjoyed the dogs and had chips I had packed in a plastic bag. It was the best lunch I had had all summer, and have been on a cloud all day.

It's a little thing in the scope of a 24 hour day but it's indicative of the kind of progress she is now making. Each day she's a little stronger, a little more strong willed, a little quicker step, a little faster on the quick response, and sometimes, a lot more tired; but a good tired; the one that comes from a day well lived.

To me, that's the miracle.

Mom is home; New Norms...Summer is...

It's a picture perfect night in the Adirondacks; 60 degrees, cool, fresh mountain air, and full moon that is glowing in a nearly dark sky with small stars against a poetic blue velvet sky. Sitting on the lanai in a nearly damp lawn chair, nothing seems different than any other summer I have done so.

But tonight, something IS different. There is a sense that this is not as "for sure" as it has been. I was here last year, and the year before, and so on, even after chemo, after Italy, after the opera season, there was always the chair on the lanai for a few late night stare-at-the moon hours.

I never thought about how many more there may be; but I am thinking about that tonight. Circumstances and reality being what they are, being here this summer isn't the same. It just isn't. There is a foreboding sense that things will change, and this summer norm of being here and doing all the things my mom and I have traditionally done through the summer all these many years won't be so anymore. They just won't.

Mom is home; this is good. In six days time she has kicked pneumonia, put a bit of weight back on, is sleeping a little more, is a little less scared and from time to time acts like her "old self." But I have come to realize that things won't be the same, pre-fall, again. They just won't.

Therapists and nurses and doctors talk about getting her back to "pre-fall" conditions, and physically, that may be possible. But the loss of nutrition, weight and situational trauma from the totality of events may have taken an irrevocable toll on her. Sustaining her lifestyle for safety and comfort is at the forefront and is presenting new challenges; most of which are attainable among the family and resources at hand. But it won't be the same. it just won't.


She struggles with "all these people here" while knowing its needed for her to be in her home, where she wants to be. It's the new norm - someone here all the time. At 85, it's hard to just accept that in your own home; A walker. New norm. Knee brace. New norm. She knows she needs it, may not want it, but knows it's part of the program to be here; and thus, a new norm.

New norms now include my heart jumping when one of my brothers call me. Or when I see "Mom" on the phone screen wile I am out and the home aides are with her.

I am scared. I'm scared that my mom won't be able to stay in the house she has come to enjoy after selling her other one she built with her husband of over forty years. I am scared that she will not be able to shake the trauma of being in three different facilities and the subsequent experiences of them - though, overall, she received good care. I'm scared that one bad move will injure her further and home won't be an option at ALL - and that a facility will be the only option. Scared, sad, depressed; all these descriptors cover it.

One thing I am NOT scared of is my ability to make decisions for her welfare, safety and health. I didn't and don't have any regrets about the timing of my decision and following my gut in pulling her out of the rehab facility. My family was equally supportive and in agreement.

It is my fervent prayer to the Universe that this energy feeds her soul and recovery at a molecular level to create a new norm that brings my mom the physical, spiritual and emotional contentment and dignity that she should have in the twilight of her quiet life.

Should that not be the new norm ?

Another year over, Another bag of trash....New beginnings in the middle of the year...

Throughout the school year, charts are made, papers filed, folders maintained and records kept with the utmost skill and care of Ebenezer Scrooge's clerks. Yet in one or two afternoons, all of that makes its way into two large clear trash bags that are tossed curbside at a school, waiting to be hauled off to points we don't talk about much.

All that time. All that work. All that evidence of an academic year well or misspent, a student's growth chronicled for posterity - or until June, anyway. Some kids take it all home. Others toss it out right in class, so as to say,"...why lug it home, I can't keep it - there's no space, I'm done with it, already." Yes, this from eight and nine year old kids.

They argue a good point; why keep things we don't need, and don't WANT ? What is it in our minds that says, "...yes, save it, you may need it..." Is it some kind of 1930's frugal depression era, two generations removed genetic reprogramming that has made it's way into our molecular structure ? Are teachers more prone to this hoarding behavior because of the constant threat of cutbacks, not having enough, transient children that come in after all has been given out, and are still expected to come up with what is needed ?

This past week I was conscience of my behavior on this issue on two fronts.

First, at school, I was careful to save as many pocket folders as possible for kids who never have any, or not enough, or need them replaced mid year and claim their parents have no money; despite the new PSP game they just got. I pulled as many paper clips as I could find out of stacks of papers that were discarded, but made sure as many stacks as possible were given to my students. When I had saturated my kids, the overflow went to a neighboring class. Usable crayons were saved, stubs were not; no work books were thrown out, they were given to children, half used, half NOT used.

Second, apart from school, I eliminated something off my new business cards; my singer web site address. I was half aware of the decision as the design emerged for the new look and more focused on what to show as my purpose in having a card !
Educator. Writer. Cancer Care Advisor.
Included was my name, email, phone and this blog spot. (Shameless plug, but, did you subscribe yet ?)
Then I typed my singer site, and just looked at it. Then took it off. Then I took off the three descriptors.
Ten minutes were spent putting these four items on and off in different combos.
Then in one moment, I got zen and let it go. With only my name, phone, email and blog site on the face of the card, it is multipurpose, uncommitted, reflects the green/simple design of the template and shows a spot where if one wishes to know more, they can go. Basta.

Like the students, I made that choice to get rid of what isn't needed anymore. At least right now, as in 250 cards worth. Like handouts and student magazines, there will always be more. I look forward to seeing the new cards with the anticipation of a new school year's clean desk, shiny floors and sharpened pencils.

But there is plenty of time for that. For now students and teachers alike take a much earned riposa, to reflect and regenerate for the paper collection to begin again.

Summer - Welcome.

Summer's Song

What is it about Summer that makes everyone so happy ?

For many of my friends and I who are in education, it's a no brainer; No School !

As a college student, it was a great job and making money for the next semester, then going out at night in Lake George for all of the shenanigans to follow !
For the gardener, it's seeing the payoff for the efforts of planting, pruning and waiting.
Swimming, picnics, travel, leisure, reading, and a shady hammock seem to beckon in the season's offing...

This solstice, this year, for me was unexpected. On Memorial Day weekend, the unofficial start of summer, though I had planned a quiet get a way in my fave ocean side town, the Universe took a different turn.

My mom fell, was hospitalized, and relocated to a rehabilitation facility an hour outside her/our hometown.
Great news; she is expected to return to not only her prior strength, but BETTER than before ! There will be some changes in day to day living for a while, but all early signs are that they are fairly unobtrusive and amenable; the goal is to return elderly to their most desired, familiar and comfortable surroundings. Mom shares this goal, and is working like an olympian to get there. She is amazing; at 85 she is "working out and wants the pants with the stripe." No problem !


So, with that and spending the last month commuting upstate on the weekends, I have had time to think and decide that though Plan A is cancelled, Plan B looks good.
Really good.

I had vowed last summer that I would NOT be upstate the whole vacation, no way, no how. I still hold that proclamation true. The difference is that while I drive to and from visiting Mom, and stay with her during her transition back to her house, I will be working on projects that have been pushed aside for too long.

While Java the Free Range Kitty continues finding her inner hunter beast, I will be writing, taking on line courses, swimming, visiting with old and new friends, meeting my great nieces/nephews, celebrating my Mom's achievements, shopping at the farm markets, and renewing myself for the school year to come. I will take a holiday at the ocean, but I am keeping my plans fluid and I am confident it will fall into place.

THE SECRET, by Rhonda Byrne, suggests that there are no accidents, that fate plays out "the way it is supposed to."

How I, we, deal with that hand is OUR choice. And for now, for this summer, I think it's all worked out quite nicely.

Spring Break - Could the weather be better ?

NYC is in bloom !! Children are riding bicycles, grownups are walking, nearly everyone has gone out to play, and seasonal allergy sufferers have restocked their medicine cabinets with all the needed accouterments that welcome the pollen season.

Students and teachers have been on holiday and I know mine has been glorious. Splitting time between NYC and the Adirondacks, I did laundry and hung it out, spent hours outside and enjoyed a soft serve cone from Martha's - an upstate destination ! I finished a project or two, but have yet to clean off my dining room table. I made a batch of Gluten Free lemon poppy seed muffins and enjoyed a cup of tea on the lanai. I went to the opening of, "Lend Me A Tenor" and laughed more in ninety minutes than I had for months. I visited with friends, went out to lunch, and took a nap.

As I look forward to longer, sunny days, I am gearing up for the launching of a new project. Borrowing some skills from annieZcloset and the opera world, I am in need of your support by following my blog.

Would you be so kind as to do so ?

Thanks for your support.

Annie B in NYC !

A New Hat and New Mischief

When I was about 15, my mom and I were out in Glens Falls, NY, and we were talking about things in the 40's - mostly, what ladies did when they went out. We had gone to lunch, but were having such a lovely day, Mom said, "...well, when we were in need of lifting our spirits, we would go shopping for a new hat." So we did. I don't remember exactly where we went, but I got a hat. That hat is long gone now, but, tonight, I revisited that sentiment, and discovered something else along the way.

This evening, after a lovely gather of colleagues of past and present at a Tapis Bar,

Las Ramblas at 170 W. 4th, I walked up 6th Avenue. I needed to move and get some air, and the evening was so lovely, it was easy to do. While on my way into a much needed "cup," I spied a purple beret. It was crocheted, acrylic, and BIG. For my head and much thanked for big red hair, I am always looking for bigger than average hats. Though slightly out of season, I asked if I could try it on. I did - it was smashing - with a perfectly proportioned rosette on the front.

On an impulse I bought it and upon my head it sat until I got home.

I did not even care that it may have seemed garish with my dark raspberry colored top; I had a striped scarf to buffer the two warm hues. I was elated; I remembered that day I went hat shopping with my mom - and this was a perfect topper to another great day I had experienced.

But there is more; you see, recently, I have concluded that I lost my olive colored acrylic beret that I bought during chemo two and a half years ago. It has been in several photos of mine; and it's color always highlights my eyes, especially since committing to Redkin 4RC. But it has been missing for over two months; so has the brown one I bought - it's as if they ran off together. I have mourned the loss of those hats; ;mostly the green one, because of the motivations, memories and comfort they brought me. Java had snuggled up and slept on them.

I have let them go.

Whether they are sequestered somewhere in my house or closet or car or classroom not to be found for a long time, or, accidentally thrown away in a mad rush to tidy up, I just don't know. But I do know that I don't need to mourn their loss anymore, I can buy or make MORE hats - any color, and hopefully, any size.

I have to let them go.

I have to allow new hats to enter my life. New hats that will make their own memories, their own mischief, and punctuate various activities that are Annie.

Recently I started another journey that will require me to let things go- to part with the things I no longer need, and maybe don't want. I need to make room in life for NEW things, NEW adventures, NEW tastes, NEW experiences. I cherish the time and the memories of the old hats, but, there are more hats to be worn and loved.

Will I have the courage to do it ??

I believe so - I will simply don my new chapeau, and off I go....

Spring, or nearly !

It snuck in this weekend. After months of cold and snow and ice and boots and umbrellas and cabs, a preview of Spring tip toed in on cat's feet and swirled around.

Getting my fill of vitamin D for the past two days I walked many blocks in the sun. I saw people shopping, smiling and generally happy to be rid of the layers of winter garb. I saw tulip shoots and crocus stems reaching for the sky. I watched the dirtiest of snow piles melt and leave only silt in their wake.

Strolling on the Upper West Side, there were children on scooters, bikes, and in strollers. Adults ambled about trying to balance all the kid-ware that they have these days. There were some people with shopping bags, some with Fairway bags and few with pretzels.

I didn't see anyone loaded down with packages. It just wasn't about that today. It was about feeling unfettered with 'things' and enjoying the ease of moving without baggage.

Yes, times are scary; everyone is concerned about their own financial wellness, and probably someone close to them in their own family and friend circle.

But for this weekend, for just a little while, there was the sun and the sidewalk. There were no boots and no umbrellas. Kids laughed and grownups smiled.

No one felt scared of a terrorist attack. No one was particularly worried about Governor Patterson's fate. Laundry and homework could wait.

It was a good day in New York City.