Limited

Harry is chasing a small bird that leads him from one clump of shrubs to the next. The bird stays on the outside of the shrubs where the threat of the Invisible Fence keeps Harry at a safe distance. Harry always errs on the side of caution; better to stay far short of the fence than risk the warning beep that leaves him frantically searching for familiar ground.

Bess is lying in the middle of the driveway as I ride the required “seven round trips equal a mile” past her. I think each time that I will have to warn her to move in order to pass by. Bess, however, judges the boundaries better than Harry and I do. She’s never afraid to claim as much area as she likes. And now, she’s chosen a spot angled about ten feet behind the truck towards the middle of the driveway. I can ride through easily without disturbing her and put out a hand to touch her at the same time.

I pushed my personal boundaries this week and started drawing lessons this week with an artist friend who commented that I started the way most people begin – with the outside lines. He draws in a way that I don’t even think any more – starting with the fullness of the object, filling a page with dimension and shading and curve and movement without needing to know the edges of the thing itself first.

Boundaries seem to be my issue lately. Once I loved to push outside them. Now, I’m holding myself as close to center as I can. Even as I write, I’m searching for a comfortable closure, trying to find control over threats that are rapidly becoming realities, and avoiding risks that continue to appear without invitation.

New Wheels

Last Saturday George bought me a new bike, actually a new trike. Our chiropractor is a big cyclist and has been telling me for years that I needed a recumbent bike to compensate for the no-knee issue that prevents me from walking.

At a friend's suggestion, we visited Tandem, Touring, and Recumbent Bikes downtown. Pretty soon it was obvious that a trike was actually what I needed and, within a few minutes, I was out on the side street, testing those wings that I'd forgotten I had.

Today I took my first ride around the mall at Furman, under the giant oaks of their fifty year old "new" campus. I set a very limited goal for myself - build enough confidence in the coming month that I could ride five miles on flat terrain at a time. It's limited, but it's ambitious. I made it two miles today easily and could have done much more, but my bladder and I haven't adjusted to the posture of this new trike. Half as much coffee tomorrow morning.

George and I came back to the house to search out a way that I can transport the trike by myself, preferably on the back of my car. The back of the pickup is just too high. Seems like it's going to be easier than we thought. I should have a carrier within a couple of weeks, and then, watch out world! Savannah, I'm coming with a trike next time! Biltmore, close and bar the winery doors!

We also went kayaking on Sunday, something I haven't done in a year. We went almost nine miles and I had no trouble at all. In fact, I realized how much independence I've lost in enjoying physical activiites due to arthritis. Hopefully, I can regain it a little at a time and just enjoy some movement with friends and by myself.

George and I plan to take my maiden trip on the Swamp Rabbit Trail from the far side of Furman up to the Cafe @ Williams Hardware for lunch on Friday - if I can get a trike lock before then. He assures me that it's all downhill on the way back. Good - I can stash one of the Cafe's cocoa cookies with peanut butter and oatmeal in my new basket and have dessert.

July 11, 2009

I haven’t written for this site in months – haven’t looked at it – haven’t mentioned it to anyone. I could barely remember my password to post this entry.

I’ve been absorbed in writing an application for a charter elementary school and the accompanying federal grant that will provide funds to assist in planning and implementation. The charter committee got their ideas together in early February and asked me to join them later that month. I was completely willing – their ideas meshed so beautifully with mine. I got a late start writing in late February and all the work was due by May 1.

I’ve done parts of applications before and I’ve had a $200,000 federal grant funded. But I’ve never tackled anything of this magnitude largely on my own. As we submitted revisions, I had tremendous help from the committee, the loveliest and most talented group of people I have ever worked with. I hope to count them as friends for the rest of my life.

Unbelievably, we are a one hour hearing away from full approval. We really have gotten through the roughest obstacles and should know the end results by mid-August.

The grant will bring $700,000 to the school over three years in addition to the per pupil funds that will flow from the state. One of my life goals was to put a million dollars to work. I wrote that one in my early thirties when a million dollars would do a great many things it won’t do now, but I never really thought I would see it done. Classroom teachers rarely get to see that done.

Now, I am caught up in such a mania of emotional and physical response to our apparent success. Pride. Exhaustion. Disconnect with daily activities with my husband and friends. Disgust at my dirty house. Wondering what I overlooked. And the bizarre sense that it is over. My part is over.

That’ necessary due to a conflict of interest that now exists with other responsibilities I have accepted since February. I’ll be there on the day the school opens, if they invite me. But, from this day forward, it is their school.

Once again, like the last day of school with so many children in so many years of teaching, I’m handing the baby back to the ones who gave it birth. I haven’t felt these pangs since I left the classroom and even then they were dulled by the number of times I had experienced them over the years. Not easier, just familiar. I’d have my five minute cry on the way home and look forward to the things I would do with my own children over the summer.

The years since my retirement in 2000 have stripped away the diversions I used to cope with that kind of separation. It’s anguishing. And I think I want to experience it this time.

Tottering into Technology

As my 58th birthday approaches this week, I admit that I will never know half the things I could easily do with the home technologies currently available to me. But I still continue to add skills and knowledge, unlike many of my peers who believe that the T word was meant to be spelled with four letters.

In the last year I've discovered the wonderful world of RSS feeds and am now benefitting from customized deliveries of information to my Google Reader account. As time goes by, I continue to think of topics that interest me. This morning, for example, I've added gardening feeds, prompted by April's designation as National Gardening Month. In less than half an hour, I had all the information I could use about pruning my shrubs, planting my vegetable garden from seed, selecting more natives for landscaping, and on and on. And, I didn't have to search for any of it. I discovered the common weed that grows in my yard that can be used to treat mosquito bites and have a new plan for lawn maintenance. This morning a feed led me to a webpage that offered free seeds for a number of heirloom vegetables and I found myself looking up recipes for foods I've never eaten before. I'm looking forward to keeping informed on the progress of the White House Kitchen Garden planted by Michelle Obama and D.C. school children.

After the last election cycle, I expected to have had my fill of politics and commentary, but I find myself more interested as time goes on. I gradually weed out blogs and news sources that I don't really like; however, my focus on progressive politics brings as much news about Rush Limbaugh and Fox News as it does about any thing else. I guess most of us liberals feel like we have to keep looking over our shoulders after the last eight years. Even the titles of the feeds provide lots of information. Cheney seems to get lots of attention (shudder...),but W gets far less. And, as a retired public educator and charter school board member, I continue to read the education news from several sources.

I have made lots of changes trying to live as a healthy diabetic, thanks to the daily information I receive, particularly in the area of preventing infection. Last year's lengthy bout with pseudomonas compels me to read anything with "diabetes" and "infection" in the same sentence. Consquently, the condition of my skin (and particularly the skin on my feet) has improved tremendously. I've been able to eliminate the expensive prescription cream I've used for years just because my daily skin regimen has become more focused.

I'm learning how intersting blogs can be when they are thoghtfully presented and hope to bring changes to my own, as a result - incorporate more photos, video, and sound files. I'll take a look back on my 59th birthday and see what I've discovered about the possibilities in this new venue.

New Arrival

Last night Darlene Fuhst sent us home with her painting Sanders Cafe. It now hangs proudly and beautifully in our kitchen / dining area.

We were introduced to Darlene's work last year through mutual friends and loved her contemporary style, her play with composition and pespective. As we talked over time, I mentioned that I would love to give my mother a painting as a housewarming gift when she moved to Greenville. I had an idea for something from Mom's past. My father was born and raised in Corbin, KY, and I knew that Mom and Dad ate at Colonel Sanders' (KFC) first restaurant owned on their wedding night. My dad grew up in the same church that Col. Sanders attended. While the story about starting KFC on his Social Security check is true, the Colonel never really mentioned that he owned and operated a very successful hotel in Corbin all his life.

Darlene offered to stop in Corbin while traveling last summer and take photos of the sign. It turned out to be a good one, neon and half-tembers, curved glass and sharp angles. She is so talented that the neon jumps right off the canvas. George and I sat in the back seat of our friends' car last night, swearing that we could see the glow in the dark.

Mom has decided to stay in Atlanta for a while and so she wants us to enjoy the painting in our own home. We are thrilled to do so.

If you have never seen Darlene's work, take a look at http://www.darlenefuhst.com/.

And come eat chicken and biscuits with us soon.

Techno Tuesdays

Thanks to Jackie's suggestion (our son Geoff's girlfriend), we are meeting the last Tuesday night of each month to have dinner and a short class on improving our skills on our laptops. We invite any interested friends and, after dinner, replace the dirty dishes on the dining room table with laptops. Last night was a short lesson on Windows Movie Maker. Here's my video from last night, created only with the things I already had on my computer - no special script, music, or photos.





I've used other video editing software, including iMovie, Final Cut and Premiere, and there's no question that they are better and easier to use. But, most of the people I work with already have access to Windows Movie Maker and don't want to spend the money to upgrade to something better and more professional.

So Windows Movie Maker will continue to be one I play with regularly.

My Favorite April Fool's Stories

I've never gotten into April Fool's pranks, unless I had a moment where an opportunity presented itself and I just couldn't resist. I suppose that makes me the perfect victim for people who plan ahead for the day. I'm naturally gullible and trusting and I wouldn't change that.

I've followed more political blogs and commentary lately than ever before. (We thought it would end with the election, didn't we?)

So, I was just asking to be somebody's fool.



DELANCEY PLACE
My morning started with my favorite daily email from Delancey Place. By the second paragraph, I was hooked with new disclosures into Lincoln's composition of the Gettysburg Address. After all the training I've had in writing scripts for digital stories, here was the best example I could imagine to illustrate the reasons why a one page, double spaced script can tell any story. And, because we had a family legacy of correspondence with Lincoln's contemporaries, the idea that the truth was coming to light because a cache of letters had been discovered made it too good to be true. Keywords - "too good to be true".

"In today's excerpt--the authorship of the Gettysburg Address. It has long been known that Abraham Lincoln regularly solicited input into the drafts of his speeches. This led to such results as the change in the ending of the First Inaugural Address to a more conciliatory tone--and the suggestion by Secretary of State William Seward to include an allusion to angels, which was then transformed by Lincoln into "the better angels of our nature." However, recently discovered correspondence suggests that the assistance Lincoln received in speechwriting was perhaps more systematic and pervasive

"One of the more cherished Lincoln myths tells how he drafted his Gettysburg Address during the journey to the dedication, and delivered the speech from hand-written notes recopied on hotel stationery. Nothing could be further removed from what actually transpired. Lincoln was a careful writer, who regularly involved those around him-including cabinet members--in reviewing his drafts weeks or even months in advance of the actual event. In the case of the Gettysburg speech, Lincoln was fully aware of the symbolic opportunity of the occasion and the need for rhetoric to help shore up the always crumbling resolve of the North. ...

"A recently discovered cache of correspondence from the estate of J.W. Fell (1822-1881), a state legislator from Annapolis, Maryland, reveals 73 letters between the Lincoln and Fell, almost all of which involved detailed suggestions and revisions regarding his speeches, including the Gettysburg and Second Inaugural Addresses. The only previously known correspondence between the two involved three letters relating almost entirely to the politics surrounding Maryland's decision to remain in the Union. ...

"Fell's strongest admonition regarding the Gettysburg draft was that Lincoln strike a more modest overall tone, advocating that he change the language in an early draft from 'The world will long remember ...' to 'The world will little note nor long remember what we say here ... ,' arguing to Lincoln that 'modesty assumed in this speech will ensure its immortality.' Fell unsuccessfully suggested that Lincoln strike the language 'It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do so,' intimating that the sentence was 'superfluous.' ...

"There is at least some indication that the first draft of the Gettysburg speech came from Fell. In a letter to Fell dated July 17, 1863, Lincoln writes, 'It would please me greatly if you would again supply some initial thoughts regarding a speech I am planning for this fall. I shall discuss this with you further upon your arrival next month,' though this could have referred to any number of speeches delivered during this period."

Bernard N. Douglas and Paolo S. Frils, Lincoln's Prose Reconsidered, Simon & Schuster, Copyright 2009 by Bernard N. Douglas and Paolo S. Frils, pp. 27-29.

APRIL FOOLS! And a heartfelt thanks for your continued interest in Delanceyplace.


JIM WALLIS: RUSH LIMBAUGH TO SPEAK AT SOJOURNER'S MOBILIZATION TO END POVERY from BREAKING NEWS AND OPINION ON THE HUFFINGTON POST
The second story had to do with Rush Limbaugh's sudden crisis of conscience. I bit - I am trusting enough to think it's possible for anyone to change. And, after all, just think of the attention it would get him.

In an inspiring display of bipartisan bridge-building, talk radio personality Rush Limbaugh has accepted Jim Wallis' invitation to deliver a keynote address at Sojourners' Mobilization to End Povertyconference in April.

"I've always said the monologue of the extreme right is over, and a new dialogue has begun," said Wallis. "Well, that dialogue is about to get a whole lot louder."

Limbaugh, longtime champion of conservative media, announced his acceptance of the invitation on his daily radio show. Interrupted occasionally by call-ins of incredulous listeners, Limbaugh detailed months of off-the-record conversations with Wallis during which the two forged a deep friendship despite political, theological, philosophical, ideological, ecological, anthropological, eschatological, and soteriological differences. That dialogue came to a head one night when an anguished and sleepless Limbaugh called Wallis after 3:00 am, seeking spiritual solace.

"I responded like any good evangelical would," said Wallis. "I told him he should read his Bible. And then I hung up and went back to sleep."

Vexed but desperate, Limbaugh grabbed his trusty KJV, fanned it open at random, closed his eyes, and thrust his index finger upon whatever page it might find, landing upon this passage from James 5

"Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are motheaten. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasure together for the last days. Behold, the hire of the labourers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth: and the cries of them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of sabaoth. Ye have lived in pleasure on the earth, and been wanton; ye have nourished your hearts, as in a day of slaughter."

I admit, of all the verses for him to read, this passage sounds a bit harsh--especially in the King James," said Wallis. "But with 2000 verses on poverty in the Bible, Rush was bound to hit one of them."

Limbaugh's response to the Word was swift and dramatic:

"Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount

As part of Limbaugh's dramatic change of heart, he has reciprocated Wallis' speaking invitation by naming him the new co-host for his daily radio show, giving it a more faith-based focus

"The way Kathy Lee needed Regis, that's the way yall need Jesus," said Limbaugh. "That's what Jim will bring to the show on a daily basis--that good ole' Red Letter Christian gospel!"

Limbaugh further detailed his plans to team up with Sojourners and others to fight domestic and global poverty, issuing this challenge to all Dittoheads in a recent broadcast: "I want everyone within the sound of my voice to call upon their members of congress to cut the number of Americans living in poverty in half in the next ten years, and to support America's commitment to the Millenium Devleopment Goals. ... And always remember to recycle. ... Oh, and one last thing: fur is murder."


With Mobilization attendees and legions of conservative talk radio fans both reeling from this dramatic turn of events, many are asking what other surprises are in store for the Sojourners conference

Anonymous sources have confirmed that TV talk show host Stephen T. Colbert
will be delivering the a prayer of invocation to kick off the event. Also, Bono has cancelled the free U2 concert for emerging leaders due to lack of interest. Instead, band members The Edge, Larry Mullins Jr. and Adam Clayton will accompany Jim Wallis in leading the young people in a sing-a-long of church camp fireside favorites.

OK, as you may have already guessed--April Fools! But seriously folks, come to Washington, D.C., this April for the Mobilization to End Poverty!

And, finally, JIM LICHTMAN FROM THE HUFFINGTON POST,
LIARS, CHEATS MAY SUFFER ETHICS DISORDER
I suspect I have a few disorders myself, but, thankfully, not of the ethics variety.

WASHINGTON, D.C. - In a stunning announcement on the steps of the Capitol today, scientists from four leading research centers believe they have found a direct link between the ethics scandals of the last five years - perhaps five decades - and a chemical imbalance in the brain.

The new disease, which scientists are calling "Involuntary Ethics Disorder," affects that portion of the brain where moral cognitive function takes place.

Dr. U.R. Stuck, senior marketing chief at the Public Parody Center for the Advancement of Newly Discovered Dysfunctional Diseases said, "Much like Tourette's syndrome, 'I.E.D.' concerns a chemical imbalance in the brain that causes hundreds, perhaps even thousands of individuals to lie, steal and cheat while completely convinced that they have done nothing wrong."

The study was based on a series of nationwide interviews and blood tests of more than 522 CEOs, politicians, athletes and others involved in one or more ethics-related transgressions. The research was funded by the group Special Ways of Finding Excuses, a nondenominational, political/corporate action committee based in the Cayman Islands.

The findings show the little-studied disorder is much more common than previously thought. "It seems to be particularly demonstrative in that segment of society involving money, power and professional sporting events," Dr. Stuck said. "We have documented an abnormally large percentage of IEDs in and around Washington, D.C., Wall Street and major league baseball events around the country."

Defense attorneys for convicted Enron honcho Jeff Skilling commented, "We never thought of this before. It's a whole new ball game for us in the appeal process."

In a similar statement, former Louisiana Representative William Jefferson said, "It makes perfect sense. And all this time, people thought I was only interested in the money."

Following the announcement by Mr. Skilling's lawyers, attorneys for WorldCom's Bernard Ebbers, Tyco's Dennis Kozlowski, and former Senator Larry Craig announced that they are all in the process of filing new appeals.

However, the news is not so good for others. Author and ethics specialist Jim Lichtman is reported to have lost a number of new and potential clients as a direct result of the study. "Everybody's cancelled on me! I had contracts with a whole host of Wall Street companies," Lichtman cried. "But rather than sign up for much-needed ethics training, now they're all waiting around for some magic pill they can take. I've had to return almost $1 million in deposits. It's disgusting!"

In a related story, a small fight broke out shortly after the announcement between the "road rage" people and the "ethics rage" scientists - each one claiming the acronym "I.E.D." A group of Marines, on leave from Iraq, joined the fracas claiming "I.E.D." should be exclusive to military usage regarding the deadly "Improvised Explosive Device." However, car manufacturer Toyota has weighed in saying those other terms infringe on their right to use "Integrated Electric Drive" for their Prius hybrid electric car.

The study has yet to determine the exact cause of the disorder. "It could be genetic," Dr. Stuck says, "but there's strong evidence to suggest that it is transmitted from person to person, much like the Bird Flu. If that's the case, we could be looking at a whole new pandemic."

Dr. Stuck advises anyone with a predisposition for prevarication, rationalization, creative accounting or an inflated batting average to avoid contact with individuals who are known liars and cheaters, at least until all the evidence has been closely examined.


Enjoy this day for all it teaches us about laughing at ourselves.

The Elements of a 7 Year Story

In 1972, when I was 21, I had surgery to remove a malignant tumor on my thyroid gland. In the hospital a nurse came into my room when I was alone and told me not to worry – I could expect to live a full thirty years.

Thirty years later, in the spring of 2002, my sister was getting ready to attend something called a digital storytelling workshop on the anniversary of my surgery. On a whim, I asked if I could go with her. Secretly, I thought that maybe a trip together would give her something to remember me by.

My sister and I saw each other regularly but always in the context of family events and had never taken time to do things together alone as adults. Even as children, I felt that our relationship mimicked that of our parents – one a performer, one always the audience. It’s a pleasure to buy a ticket for the show of your choice, something entirely different to never be allowed to leave the audience.

Frankly, I knew my computer skills were better than hers and so I offered to help her. However, my sister has multiple sclerosis and she took my offer of help to mean that I had appointed myself to be her travel companion because she was incapable of traveling alone.

We flew into San Francisco and, as we traveled, I was surprised to find that we could look at exactly the same scene and see two entirely different things. I suppose that was the first indication of how little we knew each other at the time.

I understood that my sister wanted creative control over the story – she had been the one to find the training, she had written the script, and she had a vision for the finished piece. I did know the technology better and picked up the new editing software more quickly. But, true to our history, she would call her husband long distance to ask for help rather than let me show her how to do a task. Little irritations began to grow larger and soon I began to doubt that the week would leave her with the kind of memory that I had hoped for.

On the last morning of the workshop, I was awakened by her voice, shouting to her husband over the phone in another room. She was furious that I dared to come with her, angry that I thought she needed help physically, and completely unaware of my real reason for coming. Her conversation went on forever and, by the time she hung up, I was more hurt and humiliated than I had ever been in my life. And, true to course, I didn’t say a word about it to her.

As I dropped her at the door of the center that morning, I told her that I was going to return the rental car and would not be back until it was time to see the finished pieces, leaving her to finish the story alone. She was stunned, asked why I would do such a thing and made me promise to come back to help. My heart wasn’t in it. I just wanted to get home – and away from her – as fast as I possibly could.

On the return flight, she pressed me for reasons as to why I was so quiet, why I had almost skipped the last day of class, a thousand other whys. I finally admitted that I thought she intended for me to hear her phone conversation and how much it hurt me. I think she was truly surprised, but her surprise didn’t lead to empathy. She explained my feelings away for the rest of the flight.

I had endured this from her for so many years in front of whoever might be there. On that flight, I made up my mind that no matter when or where the next attack happened, I would use the same tactic in return. Maybe if she experienced it, she would finally stop.

Interestingly enough, a couple of years later, she asked me to make the trip to California with her again and I agreed. Things started off much more easily. This time I had my own script for a story and my own computer. Our good moods lasted through most of the week and we enjoyed conversations late into the night in our hotel room. But one day I dared to say something casually in a discussion group, “You know, we were talking last night and I told my sister…” She stopped me immediately, openly, and said, “Well, I certainly never agreed with you.”

Another hurt made public. Now – make her see. So I smiled, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Just take a deep breath. Sometimes you just need to take a deep breath.” It didn’t make any sense, but the shock on her face told me I had gotten to her. I also realized instantly that she had no idea why I had done it. It hadn’t worked and I knew in that moment that I would never deliberately say something to hurt her again.

Another flight home, suffering her humiliation this time. I never even explained what prompted my comment to her. I just told her it would never happen again and I’ve tried to live up to that.

But, once the words “Once upon a time…” are written, the story has begun and it tells itself in its own way in its own time. Since then, we’ve made other trips, had happy flights home, told stories in two voices. Our first trip together initiated a narrative building less on tension and more on laughter, shared respect, and genuine concern as we continue. I hope it drags on far longer than a good story should and tempts any listeners with too many possibilities for diversion from the story they expect to hear.

We may tell it in different ways, but it will always have the same ending. We are sisters.


For more information on digital storytelling, check the Center for Digital Storytelling's website at www.storycenter.org.

Long Distance

I drove to Atlanta today and, for the first time in ten years, never turned on the radio or CD player. I really didn't want the distraction. I thought about the weekend I was getting ready to spend with my mother and sister; i thoguht about the tremendous amount of work I had to do; I let myself daydream.

But, suddenly, it hit me - what I really wanted to do was talk to my father, and although I knew in the same instant that he was gone, my hand reached for the cell phone. For that second, I was certain that it was possible to contact him hust by opening the phone. If I just hadn't remembered, maybe I could have said what I needed to say - that I haven't found "home" in Atlanta since he died, that he would be proud of all four grandsons, that I would love to talk gardening with him, that just hearing him laugh again would be a blessing. Maybe, for once, I would have the good sense just to listen.

Bess, the Therapy Dog

Following the November Presidential election, I considered Barack Obama’s call for Americans to become engaged in volunteer activities. I wondered how I might combine that with my weight loss goals for exercise. Through luck, we stumbled across Therapy Dogs, a national volunteer program where dogs and their owners are certified to visit hospitals, nursing homes, Alzheimer’s units, etc. I decided to give it a try with Bess.

At just under 70 pounds, Bess is much less dog than her brother Harry. Harry is 100 pounds of pure muscle and sweetness. However, he is so big and strong that he is very hard for me to manage. Bess is cuddly, goofy, playful, and sort of on the flaky side, which I think makes her a great temperament for Therapy Dogs.

We made our first observation visit to a school for children with disabilities. Bess managed the wheelchairs, walkers, and children approaching her from all sides without any problems. I have to admit that she was more interested in the other dogs there than the children, but she is getting the idea.

There are so many new experiences for her in these visits – being around children, the chance to be away from her more dominant brother, longer rides in the car, rides on elevators, the chance to spend time one-on-one with me. And meeting dogs, dogs, and more dogs of every size, breed, and description.

Two days ago we attended a spring safety event at one of our state university campuses. College kids were just the right size for Bess. I was amazed how quickly she fell into the behavior I expected from her. For once, she didn’t jump on anyone new. And, halfway through the visit, pizzas were delivered for the students to snack on. Needless to say, no pizza crust went to waste, thanks to the 6 dogs in attendance.

Last night we successfully completed our 3rd and final observation at Shriners Hospital for Children here in Greenville. We visited about 20 patient rooms. Dogs climbed up on chairs to be near tiny patients; one or two immediately jumped up on the beds in order to be within petting distance. Bess, however, preferred the child who followed us in a wheelchair, especially after she found that he was supplied with a stash of Teddy Grahams. I learned the hard way that I will need to wear lace-up walking shoes from now on. Bess was so enthusiastic that she nearly pulled me out of my comfortable slip-ons. I envisioned myself flying around the halls of the hospital like a kite, pulled by a big blonde Labradoodle who seemed to take very little notice of the human attached to the other end of her leash.

I’ve noticed Bess go into the closet off my office several times today, to see if her special leash and collar for Therapy Dogs are still hanging there. They are right where we can both keep an eye on them and, as soon as our credentials come to us from the national office, we’ll be using them to make more visits.

And, in the meantime, I’m going to get some private training lessons with Harry. He is so empathetic and so smart that I know he needs to experience this, too.

Back to the Future

When I started this blog last year, I did so in hopes of writing my way into better health, along with changes in diet and exercise. Ironically ,last year was probably the worst year of my life, healthwise.

I developed a sinus infection on my right side in April that just wouldn’t clear up but didn’t make me as sick as I had been with past infections. The worst thing about it was the awful odor I sensed each time I sneezed or blew my nose. “Blowing” my nose was not really a term that applied during this year at all; I could only blow through one nostril until Christmas. The odor was unlike anything I had experienced in a long history of sinus problems.

I am allergic to penicillin and sulfa but was on and off multiple other antibiotics until July, when I developed pneumonia. At first I ran a low fever for two days so I waited to see if I was coming down with a virus. On the third day, I woke up too sick to know what I was doing or needed to do. It took me five more days to arrange to see my doctor and, during that time, I experienced blood sugars as low as the 30s. My primary care physician diagnosed pneumonia and I spent the next three weeks getting well enough to resume a modified normal schedule.

Just before the pneumonia presented itself, I called for an appointment with my ENT, in the belief that I might need sinus surgery to clear this thing up once and for all. He did not have an appointment open until late in September so I had over two months to wait.

In March, I started attending a medically supervised weight loss program as part of my new commitment to improved health. By the end of September, despite my sinus problems, I had lost approximately 50 pounds. I learned more about diabetes there then I had in the three years since I had been diagnosed. My blood sugar dropped dramatically, I was able to reduce insulin to less than a half of what I had been taking, and I was exercising regularly. I looked and felt great and was looking forward to finally getting weight under control. The 100 pounds I had yet to lose did not seem at all overwhelming.

When I saw my ENT in late September, he took cultures from my right maxillary sinus. The results showed that I had two strains of pseudomonas aeruginosa (the same bacterial infection that killed 20 year- old Brazilian model and Miss World finalist Mariana Bridi in January 2009). My research on the Internet showed me that I had been luckier than I could have been. Pneumonia triggered by pseudomonas can be fatal to diabetics in just a few days. My delay in getting to the doctor in July had been very risky.

I was told that all the antibiotics I had taken since April were not appropriate to fight the pseudomonas infection and I began several rounds of Cipro and Avelox. A CT scan showed an unidentified mass in my right maxillary sinus and I scheduled surgery for the first possible opportunity – Christmas Eve day.

As many people told me – the physician and physical trainer at the weight loss clinic, my pharmacist, and a good friend who had years of prostate problems in the 90s – Cipro wreaks havoc on blood sugar, your gastrointestinal system, and prevents exercise, due to its links to ruptured tendons. My weight and blood sugar began to climb steadily. All my exercise efforts ground to a halt. I craved sugar and carbs. I had to add multiple OTC medications and probiotics to manage the stomach problems. I ate yogurt daily until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Surgery was extremely easy. I had had endoscopy before and knew that I would have no problems with it. However, as a cancer survivor, I was apprehensive about what type of mass had developed. In the recovery room, my ENT reported that he had removed an “impressive” fungus and bacteria ball that had calcified and totally blocked by sinuses on the right side. He also told me that the pseudomonas infection had not abated at all. He had removed the diseased tissue and hoped that a month more of Avelox and an antibiotic nasal spray would finish off it off.

It didn’t. I took two more weeks of Cipro and started using an antibiotic nasal wash. My weight continued to climb. However, the odor from my sinuses was finally gone, leaving me to wonder if it had been caused by the blockage rather than the infection.

Now, in mid-February almost a year later, I finally know that the pseudomonas is gone. I have been able to breathe out of both sides for over a month and dropped all the OTC meds two weeks after finishing all the oral antibiotics. I do tire quickly and need a nap many days. I am slow to begin to exercise again; it took so long to develop a pattern of exercise last year and now I am faced with starting over. In fact, “doing it all over again” seems to be my agenda for 2009 in breaking my body’s craving for sugar, lowering blood sugar, gradually shaving off weight, and even remembering to ride the exercise bicycle or walk ten minutes back and forth on the driveway.

Despite the events of the last year, I have had some real breakthroughs in understanding and planning for my better health. A year ago, I thought that living as a healthy person would solve all my problems. Now I understand the difference in living as a healthy diabetic and a healthy person. Diabetes will not disappear because I live the life I should have in my earlier years. It will trigger negative episodes in managing my health in the future and I will have to start over again when it does.

Although it is still February, many of our trees and shrubs are beginning to bloom. By mid-March, spring will have arrived fully and I will feel that surge of energy and mental strength that comes with spending hours a day in the garden. A ten pound weight loss in the next few weeks will make it much easier for me to start seeds, move perennials, prepare planting boxes, and mow the grass. It will also get me down one size into the pants I was wearing in the pre-Cipro days late last summer. They are four sizes smaller than the ones I was wearing a year ago. How hard can ten pounds be?