CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX: UP, UP AND UPBEAT!

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX:  UP, UP AND UPBEAT!

Welcome back, Harper Canyon Runaway readers! You haven’t read a new blog since last February, 2015, and today is the 4^th of July, 2015. Here’s why:

January: Pneumonia – hospitalized in Tucson ( 145^th chapter of the Blog)

February: Horrific headache – confined to bed

March: Blood clot in lower right leg artery and amputation below the knee

April, May, June: Learning to live as amputee.

I have one modest goal for the rest of 2015 – to be able to walk, perhaps jog, on my prosthetic right leg and foot unaided by a walker, crutches or a cane. Now I am still in the walker stage, trying to put more and more weight on my right leg. And it’s still healing, so it hurts to put full weight on it. Patience is a virtue I have never acquired in any great measure. And so, this last month and a half, since I got the prosthesis on May 18, has been one of frustration and self-recrimination: why can’t I do this?  I am a fast walker, and believe me, crawling along with a walker is not my style. On the positive side, I am able to go up and down stairs. And I have taken a few baby steps without the walker. My double amputee mentor is cheering me on – he walks on two prostheses without any aids and he drives a car like a regular person. He says it takes time – and I know it does, but that doesn’t make me any less impatient.

In February I promised you more upbeat blogs than Chapter 145, which was mostly about my horrible hospital experience, so here’s something upbeat: I saw mermaids swimming in a big tank at the Weeki Wachee Springs State Park north of Tampa in early June. They were spectacular. I recommend this Florida tourist attraction to everyone. Thirteen dollars buys you a trip to a wonderful waterworld, with different shows every two hours, in a state park which also features a wildlife show. The crowds were huge the day we were there – this place is not a well-kept secret. The kids were great to me, helping to open doors and walking beside me – I was on my prosthetic leg, so they slowed down to my snail’s pace to chat with me. Kids can make you feel special.

As if that weren’t enough excitement, the Admiral and I went to a Giants ball game on July 2 at the domed Marlins Park in Miami. My Giants were ahead most of the game, but, sadly, they lost, when the Marlins’ pitcher, Jose Fernandez, making his first appearance in 14 months, hit a home run, and shortly thereafter the Marlins’ beefy first baseman, Mr. Bour (pronounced “Bore”), hit his third home run in three games – with two on, of course – and the Giants were mincemeat. The Giants are in a losing streak on the road – swept by the Marlins and now getting drummed by the Nationals. Still, there’s always Buster Posey and his solo home runs at the beginning of an inning – we can count on him for one run a game. And there’s Joe Panik, whose name reminds us Giants fans not to “Panik”. And big headed Bruce Bochy, who maintains his composure, win or lose, keeping the team members on an even keel through the rough times. It would be great to have Hunter Pence in the lineup, but the Marlins could use their superstar, Giancarlo Stanton, too. All teams have injuries to major players, but some of these teams still find a way to win. Jake Peavy came back yesterday from rehab, and we lost 2 to 1 – he pitched great, except for the home run he gave up. Our offense was a tad anemic. This is baseball – it’s a helluva ride through the summer into the fall. It would be really hard to be a Philadelphia Phillies fan this year – or any year. I enjoy my Giants, whatever their record. They usually play great defense, and, by all accounts, they are a cohesive unit on and off the field. There’s no finger pointing, no griping, just playing the game right – and the wins will come.

Two highlights of the past few months were visits by Barbara Shipnuck in May and by Sonja and Sabina, two of the Admiral’s daughters, on Father’s Day weekend. Barbara came loaded with gifts, some of which I had requested. She was a virtual retail outlet for watches and shorts. I had to choose 1 watch from 4 watches and 2 shorts from about 10 pairs of shorts. It is fantastic to have a personal shopper. I knew if anyone could do this, it would be supershopper Barbara. She came through --- aces high. And she also brought some of our favorite snacks – M and M’s and chocolate covered raisins, pretzels and popcorn. We had a snack orgy for the week she was here, broken up at meal times by some very healthy food prepared by the Admiral. It’s great to have my appetite back. No, I’m not going to bring you down with my tale of withdrawing from the opiates I was force fed in the hospital. Suffice it to say, opiate withdrawal is the worst way in the world to lose weight.

Barbara is a bundle of energy. Whatever errand I wanted to run, we did it while she was here. And we still had time to stop for milk shakes along the way. We sent off my tax materials, after she made complete copies of the documents for me. And she arranged for me to get my hair colored and cut. That was an incredible treat! Thank you, Barbara and Sondra. I know I got a bit tiresome the next day, when I kept telling the Admiral and Barbara that I looked “cute as a button”, but I did. And I felt so much better! Every day Barbara and I went to the pool, as she swam her laps and I paced up and down the side of the pool with my walker and my new prosthesis. The weather was perfect, and there were few people at the pool. The ones who were there were very supportive. Barbara brought me cereal and Danishes from the continental breakfast offered at the motel office. And we watched the Warriors in their playoff games that week – what a hoot! We shared our point to point worries with Alan, her son the sports writer. It was like old times, when I was a season ticket holder and drove Alan to the home games in Oakland. We usually stopped at the ribs restaurant a mile or so away from the stadium – the only white patrons – Alan and I had barbecued chicken made so moist and mouth wateringly good. Then we got to the stadium during shootarounds and cheered our mediocre team as though they were champions. And now, many years later, they are! Add Steve Kerr and Stephan Curry to Alvin Attles and Rick Barry as Warrior all-time greats. Iggy can join that pantheon too, along with Klay and Draymond and, oh yes, Harrison and all the role players off the bench.  

But I digress from Barbara’s visit – it was the best! I’m almost out of the snacks she brought, so it’s almost time for another visit. We’ll see. I’ll always be grateful to Barbara for being the first one to come see me post-amputation. She’s a trooper. And I love having her as my friend.

Speaking of troopers and friends, meet the all-time best trooper a friend a girl can have – the Admiral. He drove 100 miles every day for six weeks to visit me at South Miami Hospital and Healthsouth Rehab Hospital, both in Miami. He wore himself out, physically and mentally, running errands for me and keeping up with the medical decisions we had to make. While I was in my opiate stupor, he was my lifeline to reality, and he kept track of what the doctors and nurses were or were not doing. He kept my alive, I’m sure, on many occasions, as he watched over the treatment I was being given and made sure I wasn’t been given the wrong meds or too many of the right ones. He developed an encyclopedic knowledge of all things related to blood clots, amputation and post-amputation treatment. Half the people who met him in the hospital thought he was a doctor. Three cheers for Doctor Admiral! As my friend, Cathy B knows, being the caretaker is every bit as hard, if not harder, than being the patient. It really wears you down – I saw the Admiral totally exhausted after one of his daily trips, as I was just lying around in bed, so to speak. And the caretaking did not stop when I left the hospital and settled down in a wheelchair accessible motel unit at Marina del Mar. It continues to this day. I’m still dependent on the Admiral for the basics – food, meds, laundry. And he’s still thinking for two – which gets to be severely taxing over the months. When we signed up for our two year boating adventure in 2012, neither one of us – in our wildest nightmares – anticipated a life-changing amputation. To our credit – most of the credit belongs to the Admiral – we are meeting every challenge while maintaining a certain normalcy in our lives.

For both the Admiral and me, our family and friends have been major sources of comfort and support. The Admiral’s daughters have been very concerned about his well-being. Sonja and Sabina (making a surprise visit) came to be with him on Father’s Day weekend. That meant so much to him. His daughters are so busy with their law careers, and so accomplished in their respective fields, but they took the time to come to Key Largo for a few days to hang out with Daddo. I think he smiles more when they are here, and I know he feels their love and reciprocates in kind. Like Barbara, they pretty much take care of themselves and we get to enjoy their company. The dynamics between sisters is always fascinating to me (as one of three sisters), and Sonja and Sabina do not disappoint in their interactions. I love to listen to them. We all went to Li’l Red’s Barbecue in Ft Lauderdale on Sunday for the Admiral’s Father’s Day dinner. Sonja was especially indulgent of her Daddo with honoring his choice, because she is vegetarian. Fortunately, the menu had a few non-meat items. The Admiral thoroughly enjoyed his ribs, as our many photos of his saucy face demonstrated. Some day we’ll see Sandra, Sabina’s twin, but for now we’re happy to get her emails and texts from the bowels of Tulane Law School or her summer residence in D.C. Meanwhile, Sonja and Sabina – you rule! You are the best antidote for caretaker’s exhaustion syndrome. Keep pestering the Admiral with your love and support. He thrives on it.

My family and the BB’s have been other sources of strength for me. There is always Cathy, my other sister and confidante, and more recently Vivian. Sue and Butch and Rusty and Lois have followed my progress with words of encouragement and some sound advice. Cathy has taken time from her caretaking for her husband Rob to call and write and be there for me spiritually. My BBs – Janie, Pat, Carol, Marlea, Carol G. – have been outstanding cheerleaders. Pat’s weekly cards have ensured that I don’t lose my sense of humor – some of these cards were written for me, I swear.  I must also mention Louisa, who has sent me love and flowers and cookies and books – all while overseeing productions at Fx. Ah, books – Judy and Jake started the flow of books to my bed with an Alice Munro compilation of short stories – Dear Life. It only took me two months to read it, what with the pharmaceutical concoctions coursing through my veins. Then Louisa followed with two books, then Sondra (another source of strength) sent some books, and Vivian weighed in recently with Alistair Cooke. I just finished Euphoria, a short and sweet fictional account of part of the life of Margaret Mead, by Lily King. Two thumbs up.

Judy Stopek – you are phenomenal. You are my key to Miami, particularly Miami medical personnel. Thank you for finding Tamar Ference for me, and thank you for introducing me to Skinny Pop Popcorn. Your visits to Healthsouth were as rehabilitative as all the exercises I was doing there. Thank you for taking the time to write me and ask how I’m doing. Your concern means so much to me. We met for a few days while staying at the Calvert Marina in Solomons, and you have taken me under your wing to help me navigate the waters of Miami and its medical establishment. You are the most energetic, upbeat person I have ever met.

Jake – we’re going to do that book together – maybe the first in a series of mysteries. With each of us pushing one another, we should finish our first story this year or next. I have my own computer, and can now write to my heart’s content. Only my own sloth or lack of motivation would stand in the way – and I’m counting on you to motivate me and combat the natural tendency to be disorganized.

It’s the top of the ninth, the Giants are down 9 to 2, but Susac just got hit by a pitch, and so the rally begins! That’s the way I’m leaving it, and that’s the way I’m leaving this upbeat blog. Imagine an 8 run explosion by the Giants. It could happen. They did that once against the Reds. You could look it up. Until the next Giants win, stay happy, healthy and upbeat!