Just having a day of errands. The most important of the errands, was a hair trim. With some limited mobility on the arms, I cannot continue having short, short hair. The genes that be have given me a fair amount of cowlicks that love to stand on end if not manipulated with products or curling irons. Growing out the length of my hair is finally showing some degree of possibilities. Four months of getting the slightest of trims, the hair is becoming to have a weight via the length to circumvent the cowlicks. Each month I tell Brenda, the hair dresser, that I have no idea where this is going to lead to, but time will tell. My hair color is gray, bordering on white, and I know, no matter what length, it will stay that way. It will be a long time before there will be enough hair to tuck behind my ears. “No, Dennis, I will not be needing to buy barrettes anytime in the near future.”
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Noreen
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Noreen
It Is All About Moral Support
In the recent past I have met some very special people that I would not have usually crossed paths with in my day-to-day routines.
Last week I had the opportunity to call JoAnn. I had never met her as she lives in the metro area. In relationship to Stauffer Avenue, the big city life is a long, long way off. A friend of mine referred me to her as someone who could be visited with in regard to what she is going through after her “reverse shoulder” surgery. With me, having had two of these procedures within one calender year, JoAnn needed some moral support in her recovery. All I had been given was her phone number and we had just the best visit. Will I ever met her in person? Most likely not. Just allowing her to vent and for her to know that although her family could not commiserate with her, someone out there could. These concerns and feelings were very real for her. I could easily relate to some of her day-to-day challenges. Knowing that there was someone who had walked this path before, and that the distant destination was doable, was all she wanted and needed to hear.
This week an insurance man, who Dennis and I had worked with in the past, visited via the phone that his wife was in a swing bed in our local hospital after having both of her knees replaced at the same time. Though my knees are now eleven years old, it was something near and dear to my heart. Pete was in Joyce’s room when I paid a call, and interestingly enough, Pete had more questions about her recovery after she was discharged than she did. Joyce was dealing with things in the moment and Pete had all these visions going through his mind as he would be the “Adult Day Care Provider” through the weeks of rehabilitation in their home. Ease of mobility in our home never is a priority until the need arises. Just a little moral support to reinforce that this was a good choice for Joyce’s health and yes, Pete, this, too, shall pass.
I finished the afternoon by having an appointment with my family doctor and a specialist to review the results of the MRI of my back. When I returned home I received much needed moral support from hubby Dennis. Friday, we will be going to Mankato seeking a fitting for a back brace to alleviate some spinal cord pinching that is coupled with arthritis. I do want to pursue the back brace along with some exercises before I would entertain any type of surgery.
Moral support, whether given or taken, is just as important as the actual diagnosis. Yes, moral support is just spoken words, but it does ease the mind for the person on the receiving end. It allows for the ensuing instructions to be acknowledged and adhered to for the end result: a better quality of life.
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Noreen
Perseverance
The Snowball Bush is the first of the spring shrubs to bloom. This little fellow had one more burst, even after the
frost. That is perseverance. -
Noreen
Hopefully the Mowing Season is Over
Tidy, tidy for the changing of the seasons.
I know we have said several times, “That’s the last of the lawn mowing.” Today Dennis and I shook hands on it. Thankfully, strong winds of the weekend stripped the large Maple and Oak trees down to the bare branches. After working outside mowing and mulching all the yards, we could have been mistaken for a couple that just crossed the boarder from way down south. The only thing dirtier than pulverized leaf dust might be ashes. Even Butter Ball looked a bit darker as there was no way piles of leaves went unnoticed. This is a cat that is just a joy to have around. I do mean around. Nothing gets by his curiosity.
Butter Ball, right in the thick of the activity.
We put the mowers away and enjoyed a can of Coke on the patio. Everything goes better with a Coke. Wrong move. I looked up and commented on the neat looking clouds and all Dennis was seeing were the eavestroughs full of leaves on the garage and porch. Out came the stepladder and a garden trowel. I was amazed how full they were. If you don’t catch it in the fall, the spring season brings nothing but muck that clogs the down spouts.
As the late afternoon is settling in, the clouds are quite heavy and we may get the rain that is forecast for tomorrow, coupled with 30 mile per hour winds. Right now, as soon as I dream something up for supper, I could care less. Supper? After a day like today, I would like to wiggle my ears and have a meal appear. Dennis has always commented that no matter what we have never gone hungry here on Stauffer Avenue. Life is always sweet on Stauffer Avenue.
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Noreen
The winds shift from north to south, south to north, taking with it leaves that are just trying to flutter to the ground in peace. The leaves in our backyard would have been wise to blow away, as I know this week Dennis and his rider lawnmower will be relentless. No peace here on Stauffer until all the leaves have been mulched and are done away with.
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Noreen
Fleeting Thoughts:
1969 would have been the first crop year owning the farm via a contract for deed; the prior two years we were renting the farm. On a day just as great as this, big sister, four-year-old Carrie, would have been helping mind year-and-a half-old Kevin as I was behind the wheel of an older pickup, heading down the tar road pulling a flare box full of soybeans to the Buffalo Lake Elevator. Seat belts . . . were in 1968 new vehicles. We only had Carrie’s arm across Kevin’s chest as he was in between us. Grand times farming.
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Noreen
— and the wheels on the little red pickup go round and round. Dennis just called and he arrived at Mitchell, South Dakota, in good stead. He has his booth set up and was sitting on the front porch of the motel taking in the warm, sunny temps. Dennis is in his element: lots of fellows with common interests to visit with. I have taken advantage of the warm temps to do a few windows. Few? Our little home is nothing but doors and windows. The best thing we did was put replacement windows in our 100-year-old home. Of the 18 windows there are only two that do not tip in. No ladders and no being out in the elements. Priceless.
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Noreen
I am so happy that Dennis did not put away all the patio chairs. This afternoon has just been delightful. The birds in the front yard evergreen have been just beside themselves chirping and singing. As we enjoyed the sunshine, it was a steady stream of farm implements hauling their harvest to the elevator, which is just four blocks from here. Dennis made a trip to New Ulm earlier today to pick up supplies for his nephew’s concrete business. His report on returning home was that the fields are bare of beans and corn and the fields are already turning black from the chisel plows. An early harvest finished means the Band Box, a coffee and pool hall, will have their till racking up a good income from the farmers that are now waiting to become Snow Birds. Everybody wins.
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Noreen
We All Need . . .
We all need a safe hiding spot. Butter Ball’s hiding spot
is in the pot of the large Palm plant that is now in the garage
porch after being brought in from the Koi pond. -
Noreen
It’s a Heavy Fog to Lift
Since I have turned 70 years young, I am a true believer in having a fall checkup at the medical clinic and the eye clinic every fall. I do not like surprises when it comes to health issues whether it is someone else or me.
The eye checkup is now complete and I am sporting lenses, with which I now have no problem reading fine print. As the checkup continued, there was discovered in a far, far corner, a hint of Macular Degeneration. Dr. Tim was not concerned and suggested a vitamin that has been developed for optimum eye health. Heck yes, I’ll take it. What my body doesn’t absorb will pass out of my body through the urine. My mother was diagnosed with Macular Degeneration in her 70s. There is no doubt that my Mother loved me so that she would share. Yearly eye care: check.
After appointments were made at the medical clinic, I almost needed a reminder much like the Tom Tom that is loaded on the GPS in vehicles. The Mammogram is an old hat process. I have had so many, but getting the news that all is well remains as music to my ears. The doctor checked on my progress with the two new shoulders, and of course, he had to get out his little rubber mallet to clank on the titanium knees. Everything was progressing nicely. Several years ago a back X-ray revealed the last vertebra on my back had stepped out and a second X-ray was ordered this year to see if conditions have changed. Forget that second X-ray report . . . at this time I am waiting to hear and see the results of the MRI. With the speed, much like Super Man’s, the MRI was ordered. The orders stated words to reflect “lack of stability.” The words did burn into my gray matter.
This morning with several really good pills in me to make me lie very still, I was in and out of a fog. I did get some silly thinking done in between the clunks and bangs of the MRI machine. My drugged mind almost found the load noise comforting. I found it ironic that this weekend my computer fellow had to put a new hard drive into my laptop as it had crashed while data was being reloaded. The laptop had been running really slow for some time. My back had really been a pistol for some time, and I felt myself slowing down on activities that I would have breezed through just a few months ago. My hard drive . . . my spinal cord, may have been on the fritz for some time.
I know I will hear in several days as to what the radiologist will have to share. Just as in any medical event in the past, I will pull up my bra straps and do what is suggested. I have so much life to experience, and I intend to meet this challenge head on. Many grandmothers in times past would never have had the opportunity to delve into their health issues, let alone foresee a possible solution.
Life is good. The heavy fog of the MRI drugs are lifting and it’s time to hustle up some supper. Catch ya all later.