The Awakening

About three weeks ago

I gradually got the feeling

that I was becoming myself again.

I was sensing normalcy for the first time

since January 2, when the malignant tumor

was found in my uterus,

nothing but bad news from there.

It was like I was living in a blurry dark shadow;

or this was happening to someone else.

I was just observing.

Then I awakened.

I liked being myself.

It felt right.
“Who were you before?”
“I don’t know.
I just know it wasn’t me.”
I made little goals each day

like cleaning the fridge a few shelves

at a time.

It’s been a week since I cleaned the rest of the fridge.

All I had left to do was the door.

What happened to my awakening?

I loved it so.

Fulfilling the Goal

The Goal 

was to get back to normal activity. 

I ride my adult recumbent trike

again;

not as often or as far or as long or as fast

but I ride it.

I swim three days a week

not as far or as long or as fast

but I swim.

I do stretches every morning.

I do the laundry, some dishes,

Am I back to normal activity?

OK, so I've been selective.

I don't do yard work or shovel snow.

I do limited housework.

I cannot get cooking back on the agenda.

I worry that I'm becoming a spoilt brat.

Selfish.

Yet I need some perks,

wouldn't you say?

I hasten to make the goal a reality

while I can

because even I know

it won't last.
Not only because of the cancer
throughout my body,
but also because of my advanced age.
At least, I thought it was advanced
until we helped Sylvia
celebrate her 99th birthday.

Jeanette 83 October 3 - Sylvia 99 October 9

This is the Time of Year

when you see some people walking

with a hat, scarf, warm coat, mittens and boots;

while others are walking

in a short sleeve T-shirt.

Some kids are riding bikes or

skipping to school in shorts.
Riding my trike with a coat on,
I freeze going downhill and
cook peddling back up.
Perfect on the level.

When all in the same day,

clouds fester and darken,

the wind whips up,

a few drops fall.

The next time you look out

the sun is shining brightly.

Of and on all day.

The autumn leaves are in various stages of change

from green to red to yellow.

Sometimes all on one tree.

Some trees are bare.

Note Ed's new car with him inside.

Also note the blackened hills from our BIG SCARY FIRE.

Snow covers the mountain tops.

It’s the time of year when

riding trikes, soaking in the scenery,

fills our souls with warmth for the coming winter.

I love this variegated season.

My Personal Faith

Faith

is spending $2,500

on new hearing aids

(actually one hearing aid and one crossover in the right ear

that transmits the sound to the left ear)

when you have Stage 4 Breast Cancer

in your breast, bones, and cervix.

(She got 95% of the cancer when she did a hysterectomy

but she couldn't get it all.)

These hearing aids have rechargeable batteries;

so you just plug them in every night

with your iPhone, iPad, vacuum.

Trouble is our house was built
 before all these things that need to be charged.

We're outlet shy,

especially when the plugs
 in the bathrooms don't work.

I was Hoodwinked

When I first found the lump on my breast

I went to the University of Utah Hospital

where my primary care doctor was.

Except, of course, I couldn’t get in with her

on short notice,

so I went to the guy who was available.

He thought I needed a biopsy

and since it was Friday afternoon

and a holiday weekend,

he suggested I go to

the Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful.

I still waited until Tuesday.

Why didn’t I just wait for the U?

Without asking,

when I went back to get the results

to find out I had cancer,

they had me lined up with the four or five

different procedures and doctors

in four or five different locations

until I was cured.

They gave me a large loose-leaf

with all my appointments and instructions.

It was an ordeal to change and

get in with the Huntsman Cancer Center.

More waiting and anxiety.

They don’t care.

I specifically went to the Women’s Center

so I would have all women doctors.

Women surgeons, women anesthesiologists,

women oncologists, women gynecologists and obstetricians, women radiologists, technologists.

Women running all the machines:

MRI, CAT scans, X-rays, bone scans.

Women power!

Yesterday,

I got hoodwinked.

When I went in for my regular appointment

with Dr. Catherine Beck,

her name was on the door,

the same nurses came in and out taking vitals.

Eventually in walked a brown young man with an

accent

followed by his nurse.

He explained that he is doing a pre-check.

Since this is a teaching hospital, this was not

unusual.

I still expected Dr. Beck.

Finally I asked: “Isn’t Dr. Beck coming in?”

“No. I’m Dr. Beck.”

And there I was with a new doctor.

He had to use her name

because he’s not cleared to handle Medicare patients.

A man-boy breast cancer doctor!

After all my efforts.

Update Nov. 5, 2019

His name is Christos Vaklavas

Where would a name like that originate?

Iron Blosam Lodge at Snowbird 2019

I accidentally discovered the amazing diet,
the world has been waiting for.
First, you go to a high altitude –

at least 9,000 feet -
so you feel a little woozy.

Then you stay in a bedroom unit by yourself.
Sure, you have a little microwave
and a small fridge.

The only thing in the fridge
Is a clump of fresh ginger.
Rootbeer-flavored hard candy
Is the only other food in the unit.
When you are hungry,
after stretches and a swim,
you go up to 1127,
where DeRay & Eddy are squatting.
They have a full kitchen with
food in the fridge.
That’s it!
The simple diet.
Two nutritious meals a day.
No snacking.
~~~~~~~~~~

To tell the truth,

I didn’t lose any weight in all week,

but I thought I would.

While we’re on the subject of food,

how do you haul two full carts of stuff

to your unit,

Three of you eat all week,

do not eat out once,

do not buy anything,

yet come home with

two full carts of stuff?

The car still loaded to the hilt!

The view from my balcony.

We’ve had Week 38 at Iron Blosam Lodge

for around 32 years now.

I have hiked all over those hills,

either alone, with Amy, on the Handicap Trail with Eddy,

or the guided hikes.

I feel sad when I look up and see all the trails

I have been on

And now need a cane to get to the parking lot.

I’m not alone.

Many have died, of course,

Most are gray-haired and crippled some way.

Iron Blosam has turned into an Old Folks Home.

The sign by all the elevators says it best:

Courtesies Please

(I didn’t know “courtesies” was a word.

I thought courtesy covered all situations.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our elevators are busy and are not toys.

Please do not play in or around them

They are old, fragile, and expensive to repair.

 (Or they talking about elevators or us?),

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please be quiet and respectful of the neighboring rooms,

and in the hallways.

WALK, don’t run.

Please no bikes, scooters, or other recreational activities

In the hallways.

(I wish.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please respect our evening quiet time

In your rooms and other public areas.

(Pretty sure that would be 6 pM on.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please take a moment to remind all your guests

Of Iron Blosam House Rules, Pool and Safety Procedures.

(Can’t Guests read?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I like the warm sun;

A cool breeze

Snow covered mountain tops.

Autumn leaves,

Evergreens.

Colorful flowers planted

In rusty ore cars.*

Birds flittering around.

Fresh air,

Cool water.

Nature’s Healing Hospital.

*It hasn’t frozen yet this year.

Green Quakie leaves the last of September.

Some of the leaves were just starting to turn RED, DeLoy

Ed was supposed to make his own bed.

DeRay in his natural habitat. We went home a day early because he finished all seven seasons of West Wing.

On Sunday, we walked up to the Snowbird Center to enjoy the Oktoberfest for an hour or so.

Ed & I walked across the parking lot to the stream several days.

A better woman

“How do you feel today, Mom?” 

asks Brooke one Saturday morning.

“Well, a lesser woman would be in bed;

A better woman would be out dancing.”