mobility

May 2016 Check In

Posted on by tresswann

How did I feel this past Month?

On the blue side, with ups and downs.  The job thing is destroying me.  I get interest and interviews and then I crash.  April marked 6 months out of work.  It is now going to get even harder.  Yes, I am a mature woman with a gimp, a very stylish walking stick and not cheap.  On the upside, I connected with Meg’s blog http://www.bbhwithms.com/

Her blog is a must read and has given me so much hope.  It’s great to know there’s someone else out there.

I am reflecting on how I got onto the wrong track or the track I didn’t want to end up on in my life.  I walked away and now I can’t walk.  Something to ponder.  So, how much of my job situation is attributable to me.  Some, I think.  I became just a tad complacent.  I am looking back in order to move forward.  I feel time catching up with me.  It’s finite.

What did you do for yourself this month?

Still playing arts and crafts.  I did take a finger knitting class.  The only other attendee was a great grandmother who bent over and accidentally mooned the whole store.  I am reading more which gives me joy and peace.

I also have started playing with more smoothies and a reset detox.

What did I eat this month  and how did it make me feel –

Well, a definite emphasis on smoothies.  I expanded my repertoire.  I also did a Simple Green Smoothies Thrive  reset hoping to get me back on track.  I definitely deflated.  I couldn’t eat all the food as I was too full.  I paid no attention to the different autoimmune diets but it covered the bases – no sugar, no gluten, no caffeine, no dairy, no meat.  I could definitely eat this way.

Did I exercise?  What did I do?  How did it feel –

No Zumba but more gym time.  And I have the new Fitbit Alta which is helping me with my steps.

For whom or what are you grateful?  What matters most in life?

I am so grateful for my friends who keep my head above water.  Every night I list gratitude for at least these five things:  friends, mobility, possibilities, wherewithal, creativity

Do I have a higher purpose or driving force in my life?   Make a mission statement –

Getting closer to that mission statement,  My grandma told me (it was Shakespeare but who knew?) To thine ownself be true.  Tis like the night, cannot be changed.  That works for me

Conventional medicine  Still just Ampyra and Baclufen.  And my doctor says there is a drug that will be available in the fall that will work for me.

Symptoms – Hands are still  getting weaker.  My hands and feet are multi-colored.  I have an appointment next week.  My neurologist looked at my hands and said Raynaud’s.

What symptoms are most troublesome  – Independence and mobility.  Hands not working

Do I blame myself for things – Yes, I am still believing it’s food, stress and exercise.

How is stress level?  It’s amping up with no work in sight.  Summer is coming.  Ouch.

What can I do tomorrow to make it better than today?

Never give up! Never!  Defy convention.  My mother always said I conformed to non-conformity, so be it.

Why I Didn’t Go to the Gym Yesterday

Posted on by tresswann

I had every intention of going to the gym yesterday.  I am encouraged that my doctor found that I am a little bit stronger and a little bit faster.  I need to leverage that.  And since I am not employed, I have been losing ground.  Yes, it’s nice not to have to struggle through Grand Central, Times Square and Penn Station on a daily basis.  But easily having 7500 – 10,000 plus steps a day is a benefit to someone like me.

My Jawbone Up tracker has not been working so I have been unable to get a real reading on what I have been doing.  I splurged on a Fitbit Alta.  I am eager to see how that goes.

Also, last week I started adding in the stationery bike on my doctor’s advice.

I like to go around 2 o’clock.  It’s all the old people.  It’s fairly empty and relatively quiet.

As I may have mentioned, we have been having issues with the used car lot that sprung up next to my house and the town.  We have been at odds for three years. The car lot does thing illegally and then the town makes it alright.  In recent weeks they cut down a beautiful old oak tree on the edge of our property on Easter Saturday claiming alternately that it was diseased NOT or that the town required it – not according to the last official meeting.  The last time we called the town, the owner was literally pounding on our door within 20 minutes.  The lot’s MO is to start work on a weekend when Town Hall is closed.  Last weekend they started the fence.  We are supposed to have an 8 foot PVC fence.  Sunday morning someone came up and pounded on the door. Again, we will not open our door.  Most of the fence posts were removed.  Tom goes out yesterday morning to take pictures.  We want a dated history of what goes on.  There’s a guy we believe to be the manager over there.  He comes charging over and tells Tom he can’t take pictures.  I hear the yelling and screaming and come out with phone and start taping.  End of story.    Tom is very upset over the threats.  It’s two old fat guys hurling insults at each other.

Tom always helps me from the house to the car and makes sure I get off OK.  I start to drive off and car lot guy comes into the road and blocks me AGAIN!   He wants to talk about the morning’s “disagreement”  and how he wants to make me happy.  I pull out phone and start voice and video as I have expressed to town everything must now be in writing.  We are talking about a Town Hall that is literally across the street from massage parlors!  Tom sees Rob at the car and thinks I am being threatened.  Ah, male testosterone.  I may be older and have mobility issues but I can mostly take care of myself.  Situation devolves.  I must say Tom is being surprisingly cool.  No mistakes, it’s loud.  Rob snaps and I have him on tape saying let’s go of camera and have this out.  And something about beating his f**king face in. Excuse me?  At this point to my surprise, Tom says I am old and sick and not doing this.  Rob starts to yell, and again, I have this on tape, that Tom is a drunk and the only one he beats up is me.  If you have been reading me or know me, you know that we have had problems but he has never, ever beat me.  Seriously?  Has everyone lost their minds?  And how does Rob know any of this?  At the last public meeting, he told the town that Tom shouldn’t be allowed to speak as he was legally not allowed to be in my house. NOT!!  Yes, there had been an order that was quickly rescinded three years ago.

Tom starts to go back in the house and now manager charges over onto my property followed by some other car lot guys and threatening Tom.  I call out “Get off of my property, I am calling 911.”  Which I do.  911  operator has a hard time because of all the screaming going on but they all realize I am on phone with 911 and by end of call, they are back in lot.

Now, I can’t go to gym because I have to wait for police.  And we have had previous situation with someone with drugs and alcohol passed out across my driveway.  Car lot knew him and have hooks with police.  Very nervous at this point.  Tom is not drinking.  There is an order that he can’t but neither of trust the car lot people or the police.  I can’t file the complaint the cop says because I wasn’t the one who was threatened.  I do have a report.  We will see what it says.  After numerous flats in my driveway, I tried to file a report at the precinct because I felt it was connected to the massage parlor that used to be in the lot.  The precinct translated that one into a message store.

Meanwhile, Tom keeps going off about what he’s going to do. Not restful.

So, no gym and my stress level is through the roof which means my legs are shot.

I am going to try again today.  I refuse to be a victim.   Outside eyes may see me as over 50, frail with limited mobility but that is not who I am.

April 2016 Check In

Posted on by tresswann

How did I feel this past Month?

March definitely was a combination of the lion and the lamb.  I am actively looking for work.  I fear that my age and infirmity are preventing me from getting a job.  Yes, I try not to focus on it but it is the elephant in the room.  Sometimes, I say that too.  Then, my Jawbone hasn’t been working so even though I am not walking enough I can’t tell.  I am deteriorating.  No one likes to hear it or see it.  I fell three times.  The last was a week ago and I really hurt my left hand.

What did you do for yourself this month?

Still with the gym and less so Zumba due to the weather.  I can’t really go out in rain or snow, too much chance of falling.  I have started to write again.  I started journaling in January and am writing in the day.  I have continued to clear clutter.  I am trying to reach out to people.  I am reconnecting with the creative  bits of me, a little writing, a little art.  Decoupage again.  Something I started to do in 7th grade.  I was always good at it.  And I am starting to take some glasses.  It’s both an outlet and a way to meet people.

What did I eat this month  and how did it make me feel –

More smoothies.  A little off the rails with gluten due to holiday.  And a little more meat.  Getting back on track.

Did I exercise?  What did I do?  How did it feel –

More time in the gym.  I am really liking it!

For whom or what are you grateful?  What matters most in life?

Faith helps lots.  My friends are awesome.  Some came into my life, some left.  The ones that are here are my rocks.  My stepsons continue to amaze me with their love and support.

Do I have a higher purpose or driving force in my life?   Make a mission statement –

A higher purpose is kinda grandiose.  I stand by fighting for what’s right.  Hopefully, others can benefit.  Living with integrity and never ever giving up.

Conventional medicine  Still just Ampyra and Baclufen

Symptoms – Hands are getting weaker and my balance is off.  My fingers are going white and numb which is freaking scary.  My right hand turns purple sometimes.

What symptoms are most troublesome  – Independence and mobility.  I also have been falling more.  Part of it I know is  stress.  But the rest of the time, it’s balance. And the fingers!

Do I blame myself for things – Yes, I am still believing it’s food, stress and exercise.

How is stress level?  Well, I am  still not working. So it’s getting to me.  I am able  to sleep later though.  I’d like to wake between 6 & 7 in the morning.

What can I do tomorrow to make it better than today?

Faith, food, exercise.  Creative work. Never give up!!

March 2016 Check In

Posted on by tresswann

How did I feel this past Month?

A very mixed month with peaks and valleys.  Getting a job and maintaining funding has been consuming.  Some days are great, others less so.  I am fighting the blues. It’s winter so that’s not abnormal. The season distresses me.  My condition makes me housebound more than I’d like.  Also, not having income makes us stay at home – no joy-shopping.  I am in a waiting mode.  It’s never easy for me.  Sometimes, I am a slave to that e-mail, waiting for news, for any movement.

What did you do for yourself this month?

Still with the gym and less so Zumba due to the weather.  I can’t really go out in rain or snow, too much chance of falling.  I have started to write again.  I started journaling in January and am writing in the day.  I have continued to clear clutter.  I am trying to reach out to people/

What did I eat this month  and how did it make me feel –

Back mostly to smoothies.  They really help my system and mitigate my sugar cravings.  I created an alert on my phone to remind me to have fruit in the afternoon and my Bac pill.

Did I exercise?  What did I do?  How did it feel –

It’s exciting.  I am feeling achy at the gym.  I am taking it as a sign my nerves are reconnecting.  On the flip side, I seem a little less flexible and continue to experience balance problems.

For whom or what are you grateful?  What matters most in life?

My friends. The gift of faith.  I have been playing with “The Power of Positive Thinking” and it has reconnected me to faith.  The love that is in my life.  My stepson brought me the most beautiful rose on Valentine’s, unexpected and lovely.

Do I have a higher purpose or driving force in my life?   Make a mission statement –

No surprises.  No mission statement.  Purpose?  Let others benefit by my fight. Integrity.  Principles do count.

Conventional medicine  Just the Ampyra and Baclufan.  Really beginning to get that the right food and rest will do a lot.

Symptoms –  Hands are becoming a problem.  Fighting it of course!  Balance and flexibility which can be addressed with increased determination

What symptoms are most troublesome  – The lack of freedom.  As I write this, the newspaper is in the driveway and I just can’t go out and get it.  My increasing reliance on the cane is hindering me in my job search.

Do I blame myself for things – Of course, between stress, wrong food and not enough exercise

How is stress level?

Still high and who wouldn’t be between money, job and health.  This is becoming my new normal.

What can I do tomorrow to make it better than today?

Remember to breathe. Have faith.  Eat and exercise properly.

Resiliency

Posted on by tresswann

I have been without work for 4 months today.

On the positive side, I have been able to have some much needed rest.  I haven’t had to wake up at 4 a.m. ish since then.   My body clock has adjusted or righted itself to a 6:30 a.m. – 7 a.m. rise.  I go to bed around 10.  Finally, after years like a normal person.    I go to the gym.  I eat healthy food – read I have not gained weight at home.

On the negative side, I walk less.  I try but most days can’t get in near the amount of walking I did when I worked.  I would have thought I would have been improving significantly.  I am stressed but in a different way.  I need and want to work.

My walking has impacted my job search.  I know the first interview I went on was ageism and the “disability”.  They couldn’t get me out of there fast enough.  Other ones have been more subtle.  I had two companies that I went through several phone interviews.  I had to get on a shuttle bus for one.  When I was well I couldn’t get in those.  Ask anyone who ever had to take an airport shuttle with me.  The second one was the same day as the shuttle one.  I wobbled.  I need to use the cane.  It is stylish.  I try to wear non cloddy oxfords.  I wear loose pants over the spectral leg.  I disclaim that when I worked I took two subways everyday!  I work into the conversation how many steps I walk in a day – over 8,000.  This is seriously more than most “well” people do.

I have explored some opportunities on Long Island where I live.  The company recruiters have been upfront with me.  I am not cheap.  However, I have lots of experience and am excellent at what I do.  I had several conversations with a major national company out here that would have met my salary requirements.  I didn’t have to walk as my experience in and of itself was kind of threatening.  I was OK .  I made it through phone interviews to an in person assessment.  One person saw me with the cane.  And I walked well!  We had a really great conversation.  I had the experience and the approach they wanted.  This company told me when they made the initial call that they raised the salary because they knew with my experience, it was expected.  I received the standard thanks but no thanks e-mail today. I am finding it really hard to take.  My husband says it wasn’t my walking  but the expense.  I don’t know.  I usually believe everything happens for a reason.  Numerous times in the past I have not been offered jobs that I wanted and maybe should have had and it all worked out.  Sometimes, I didn’t see it at the time but later I did, including two jobs at the World Trade Center where in all  likelihood and seriousness, I would have died.

Finding work has always been hard for me.  This time has been easier for me in a certain way.  I almost always have something in the pipeline.  Years ago,  I was almost always one of two and almost always came in 2nd.  I don’t know where I am now.  Last time I had a termination like this it took me almost ten years to get back to where I was.   I don’t have the time, money or energy for that.

Normally,  I take these setbacks in stride. I was relatively calm four months ago.  Today I wept.  I almost never cry about anything.  My husband  was lost.  I am the strong one.  I don’t get blue.  I snap back.  It’s freaking hard.

It looks like I need to head back into NY.  Like Willie Sutton said, “that’s where the money is.”  I was liking sleeping like a normal person.

I am trying to find that resilience.  I know I am a resilient personality.  It’s hard.  It takes energy.  It takes faith..  If I don’t use the cane, I’ll lurch more.  I don’t know how else to address this.  My mind is fine. I feel “normal”  until I stand up.  I forget my physical limitations.  For the past month or so, in my dreams I find myself walking.  I wake and am crushed.

Digging down to get out.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Posted on by tresswann

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Good question.

Right after Thanksgiving, my husband called out to me to come look out the front window.  “There’s something odd out here.  I think it’s a turkey.”

“Really?”  asks I.  This is a man who has had issues in the past. So I gimp out to the front.  I see nothing.  This is not unusual.  I was the child who always finally agreed that she finally saw the constellation or the bride coming out the church door rather than enduring “See?  See?”   I did see JFK on the Belt Parkway though. I am not quick.

“no, no, don’t you see that black thing.”

And there against the fence across the street was a black chicken.

And then, the chicken crossed the road!  Please understand, we live in a suburban area.  The bane of our existence is a used car lot next door to us that houses a massage parlor from time to time.  Across the street on the corner is a former gambling hall.  I was reading news headlines one day at work that the newly discovered bomb plot by either the Gambinos or the Gallos was directed at that building.  The Feds closed that one down.  And wait for it; we had prostitution there, too!  The house that the chicken bolted from we refer to as Sandford and Son.  A  seriously collects junk when he is not “away”.  Also, think from time to time, “junk” is sold from there.  Uh, cars pulling up with engines running and people running in and out?  And the SWAT team was literally there about three years ago.  Police frequent the house (more on that later).  Sometimes, on a weekend we have copter hovering over and doing a sweep.  No, it wasn’t like this when we moved in and who would want to buy this?

Back to the chicken who has crossed the road and is now in our yard.  Now besides the organized and unorganized crime, we also have woods behind us.  So, we have  a fox, opossums, feral cats,  huge raccoons and dogs.  T says “Do you think it belongs across the road?”  It crosses the road and is pecking at the fence.   “yes, why not?”

“Do you think I should go over and tell A?”

Me:  “Yes, I do not want to wake to chicken guts on the front step.”  We feed the ferals and as a consequence birds, raccoons, Fox and possums.  “We do not need to provide gourmet treats for the ‘hood.”

T trundles over and is gone for awhile.

A admits chicken ownership and is stunned that chicken crossed the road.  He has more than one.  It’s a menagerie over there.  In addition to the pitbull that pinned me in the car one day, there is a cat that we feed.  We call him AC for A’s cat.  We discovered this one afternoon when T & A were talking and AC strolled up and ate the food we leave for him.  A says “Oh, my cat never eats dry food at home!”  Uh, why should he, when he eats with us?  There is a macaw and a little dog, too.

So chicken custody determined, the guys begin to chat.  A discloses he’s on probation for DV.  Coincidence!  T just finished.  I did say more on the police later.  If you have been reading me for awhile you may believe that T is a devoted and caring spouse.  He is when he is not drinking.  He’s an alcoholic.  He is not allowed to drink in front of me.  Easier said than done, no?  So, he has been arrested here about 16 times, no joke.  This means police have been here at least 20!  It’s a small block, hidden away.  No one really knows how to get here except for the precinct.  In fact, one night they were over and asked, “Weren’t we here earlier today?”  No, they were across the street.  Fair disclaimer, T ended up in DV because they couldn’t get him on alcohol any other way.  An ADA even told me once, if we could get him in a car.  He has no license so that’s a non-starter.  The DV is the alcoholism.  It distorts people.  The cops who constantly arrested him realized that when sober, he is wonderful.  Over the years, they have liked the work he has done on the house.  “Wow, you redid the floor!”  We have an almost cordial relationship with them.  And we have been to court so often that we are personally greeted, and people look to me for advice.  Luckily, that is all over.

T was on probation for three years and concluded it successfully.  So, he is in a position to advise A and was giving him helpful hints and tips.  We believe it will be the same PO that T had. The first time she came over the house was just after dinner with the kids.  In fact, when there was a knock on the door, we thought one of them had forgotten something.  I had made stuffed pork chops and used rice wine in the stuffing and had sprinkled it because it was dry.  They breathed him and said he was positive.  We later learned that the amount would not have been recognized if he had been driving.  We didn’t know and were terrorized.  They told me that me or the kids would not know if he had been drinking.  So, not right.  We always know.  We have lived with it. And as I said at the time did they really think that having had him arrested so many times I would tolerate it and not call? I was told I could no longer use cooking wine and they made me dump my almost full bottle out.  Then they trashed my house searching for drugs and alcohol.  When they went through my mother’s antique petit-point purse, I lost it.    We have a tortoise shell cat that we took in from outside.  Of course, the cats are freaking out with these strange, hostile people in the house.  Miss Mollie runs out to hide someplace else.  Officer N shouts, “Is that a raccoon?”

Their home visits were fine after that except for the time they came after 10 p.m. when I was getting up at 4 a.m.  They have come over when we have been drinking coffee on a Saturday afternoon or making Easter chocolates!  And we  had no luck coaching Miss Mollie on how to be a raccoon.

Let’s be clear.   I never considered myself a victim, ever.  I called precinct so that I would not be.  Everyone wanted to fit me into a mold just like they do with this disease/condition.  When I work,  I make very good money so I am not dependent on a man.  The house is mine so I can’t be thrown out of it.  I was always being offered help to get a job and find housing.  Where I did feel like a victim was in the hands of probation.  Even though T doesn’t drive or work, he had to be at places that are very difficult to get to without a car.  There were also huge fees that in essence I was hostage to pay.  I was always told I didn’t have to and he would be jailed.  Does this make sense?  I was told I could give him the cash (they only accept cash) and transportation cash.  Uh, especially in the beginning, money was a trigger!  The situation is designed for people to fail and generate revenue for the county.  We had to discontinue our marriage counseling as we were told it was not allowed.  The program he was in was ridiculous and meaningless, no curriculum.  He was told if it was up to them he would not be allowed to live with me.  The people in his “class” terrified both of us.  There was the guy who had thrown his girlfriend out of the car when it was moving and one who said when accused of choking his girlfriend ” But I stopped when she turned blue!”  T successfully concluded the program.

I refuse to be considered a victim with my condition either. I will not conform to people’s expectations.  The child is father of the man.  My mother used to tell me that I conformed to non-conformity.  It’s turned out to be a good thing.  I don’t buy into the whole incurable thing.  As I have said before, I am not going to tout the advantages and delights of motorized scooters.  I hate the spectral leg.  I hate orthopedic looking shoes.  I use funky walking sticks.  And no, I am not going to apply for disability.  I do not walk well.  I am not disabled.  I am able just not as able in certain areas.  By the way when I am working I literally walk or stumble more than the average American! Yes, 8 – 12,000 steps a day.

So, husband is  giving A advice.  This is going to be interesting as I believe she is not as strong as I am and there is a language barrier as well.  And we believe  it will be the same P.O.s that used to come to us.  We would love to be a fly on the wall as they experience the menagerie, chickens included.

Why did the chicken cross the road?  Goes to show that we are more connected than we think.  And the chicken keeps on crossing the road.

 

Valentines – Get Out of the Kitchen

Posted on by tresswann

Well, things have been a bit tough lately with my not working in months.  We have been very frugal and watching every cent.  Last week I went on an encouraging interview.  It was one of those 2 on one deals as well. So, maybe a tad anxiety inducing.  As a treat ( I have a friend who always expresses amusement that I know how to soothe myself) we stopped in at the new Stew Leonard’s on the way home. It’s  a dairy, specialty supermarket.  The first one on Long Island opened not far from us and on the way home.  Feeling optimistic, we splurged on some ribeye steaks and baked clams.

Since Valentine’s was the coldest on record  if not a century, outdoor grilling was a non-starter.  I looked on Epicurious and found a stovetop recipe – 2 minutes on high heat on each side then a wine and garlic sauce.  I have been on the weak side the last few days and have been unable to hold things and off balance. Not sure if it’s stress or weather.  Refuse to believe in deterioration.   T also fancies himself quite the chef.  He said he would do the meat and I could do the sauce. Recipe said 1 tablespoon of oil heated till it shimmered.  “ how do I tell if this is shimmering?”  Mr. Excess had put in what looked like a quarter cup of oil and sprayed the skillet as well.  I said saute, not deep fry.  He dumped some out.  First side seared nicely.  Second side started to smoke and set off our fire alarm.  Cats dived for cover.  We disconnected alarm.  Second steak, first side ,house is getting really smoky.  It is 12 F outside.  T opens kitchen window and front door. T is asthmatic and starts to gasp.  Goes into bedroom and shuts door to try and block smoke.  He comes back out with shirt over his mouth and nose to remove steak.  I start sauce.  Now, part of my condition which has also been getting worse is I get really cold and my hand turns purple and my feet get so cold they burn.  We had worked really hard Valentines making sure I stayed at the right temperature.  At one point I even had on fingerless gloves.  So, needless to say as I am doing sauce I start to shiver and shake.  I make him close the window and door.  Steak was  excellent; atmosphere was smoky but not smokin’ hot.

Badlands

Posted on by tresswann

I have discovered Amazon Prime Music and I am in love and enthralled.  The music of my life at my fingertips, for free.  Well, for the annual membership which I use for tons of other things so this is just bonus.

I think I may be like many people in my age range.  I have albums of my music or as my little nieces say “What big CDs you have:.  I have downloaded some of it on my ipod.  But….  There are all those albums and memories.  I am in Amazon download frenzy.

This weekend  I found Badlands.  Serendipity.  I get through my life with music.  When I lose the music I know I am in bad shape.  After a long bad time years ago, I knew I was going to be alright when I heard Springsteen on the radio and felt joy again.

But Badlands is more .  Years ago I lost the job that I loved.  Why do we say lost?  I didn’t lose it, they let me go.  Eight and a half years of mostly love.  I believe the roots of my present condition hark back to that time.  I used to work insane hours happily.  I didn’t understand why people couldn’t wait till Friday or were upset at Mondays.  I travelled  all over the world for that company.  However, there was one trip.  I was really sick before I left.  I was going to spend two weeks in Japan and Taiwan and fly back to California to work a trade show.  Then I would stay a few days in Los Angeles with my boyfriend’s best friend.  Men who did that trip used to spend some days in Hawaii and their wives would fly out to meet them.  I was unmarried and wanted to go to the beach in Thailand (bucket list though the term wasn’t used then) .  Instead, I had to fly back to California to work.  One of the guys gave me advice on how to fly so sick.  “Blow Afrin constantly up your nose before landing.”  Well it worked.  I made it through landing.  Who knew half an hour later that the pain would be excruciating .  I was really sick.  I was the company’s “little girl”.  The men I had to meet for business were terrified that George (the president) would be furious if anything happened to me.  I was constantly plied with soup. I slurped my way through Japan and Taiwan.    There is a reason for everything .  I was in the same hotel in Tokyo as Mike Tyson.  His posse insisted that I “party with Mike.”  I couldn’t even croak.  Just nodded “no” numerous times and kept on going.  My brush with “destiny”. When stories came out about those girls later,  I totally believed.   I left Taiwan at 11 a.m. in the morning, landed in Los Angeles at 11 a.m. the same morning (international date line) and worked till 11 p.m. that night.  I was so sick I couldn’t think of staying in LA after the show.  Back in NY, I collapsed  in JC Penney’s.  I was diagnosed with pharyngitis.  I truly believe that disregard for my health is a source of my ultimate conditions.  And ironically enough on my return I found as scared as everyone was of telling George being furious if anything  happened to me they were also terrified of telling him that I was too sick to undertake that trip.  So, after all that dedication, passion and bad health, I was cut loose in the world.  I was gutted.  I lost my livelihood and most of my friends.  Well, I guess they weren’t my friends.  Actually,  I do still have some from those days and some have died.  In fact,  I had a card this week from one of them.  But with no money and no job ,  a disastrous marriage, I felt cut off from everyone including myself.  I would wake in the morning feeling as if there was a huge pillow in my face.  I left my then husband ( I love that phrase “my then husband”) and moved back with my parents.  They couldn’t acknowledge depression.  My mother was a pull yourself together type. She said to me at the time I had to learn how to do it myself because she wasn’t always going to be around to do so.

I was back in my childhood bedroom.  Me and my record player.  I started to play Darkness on the Edge of Town and Nebraska obsessively.  Badlands helped me through.  “Talk about a dream, try to make it real.  Spend your life waiting for a moment that just doesn’t come.    I believe  in the faith that can save me .  Raise me above these badlands. For the one who had the notion, notion deep inside, that it ain’t  no sin to be glad you are  alive. I’m gonna find one face that ain’t looking through me.  I want to spit in the face of these badlands.”  And that’s what I did.  I made it through the badlands.

 

And here I am again years later.  Another job “lost”.  Financially crunchy.  Up against those Badlands again.  It all came rushing back again.  This time I do not have my mother to put me back again.  I am starting to crash.  One thing I know I can’t and won’t go back to that freefall again.  Well, I still feel the joy of the music again.  And I still retain my resiliency.  Resiliency feels like a curse sometimes.  I used to tell my mother I felt like a Joe Palooka punching bag.  Every time you hit me I spring back.  My spring is getting kind of rusty.  This time there’s the extra wrinkles:  no parents, my condition, uh, actual wrinkles, a mortgage.  We wonder when I go for a job with my outfit coordinated cane/walking stick what the impact is on the hiring decision.  I had an interview where I had to get in and out of a van.  I would have and have had the same difficulties in the past with heels.  I am not the most graceful or coordinated person as numerous airport shuttle drivers can attest.

I see my resources dwindling as I hold onto faith.  And yeah, I’m blasting Badlands again

February 2016 Check In

Posted on by tresswann

How did I feel this past Month?

Like I always do.  I fell apart after the main event.  Can I say Babka?  But I have been working out and mostly take care of me.

What did you do for yourself this month?

Gym, Zumba.  Gratitude journal.  Applied for jobs like crazy.  Writing a bit more.

What did I eat this month  and how did it make me feel –

Struggling to get back on track.  Still trying to mitigate as the holiday stuff leaves the house.  I started again having a green smoothie practically every day.

Did I exercise?  What did I do?  How did it feel –

Definitely more gym this month and started Zumba.  Zumba gives me joy and frustrates me at the same time.  I can do so much less than I used to.

For whom or what are you grateful?  What matters most in life?

Well things are moving along.  I had companies want to talk to me about jobs.  I was able to pay my bills.  I have amazing friends

Do I have a higher purpose or driving force in my life?   Make a mission statement –

I guess at the end of the day I want my life to have mattered and changed someone else’s positively

Conventional medicine  Just the Ampyra and Baclufan.  Really beginning to get that the right food and rest will do a lot.

Symptoms – Balance is definitely off and my hands are getting weaker but I am fighting.

What symptoms are most troublesome  – The balance and being confined when there’s snow.  Three years ago I could dig myself out in the driveway.  Now I can’t walk outside.

Do I blame myself for things – Sure.  Still not aggressive and focused enough.  I let this into my life.

How is stress level?

Through the roof.  No job.  Confined to the house.

What can I do tomorrow to make it better than today?

Change the food more and keep on plugging away.

Politics, Friendship, and Mortality

Posted on by tresswann

I just found out a few hours ago that one of my childhood friends passed away in his sleep last night.  Losing anyone so young is hard.  Well young is relative but I still feel relatively young and as my former sister-in-law said earlier this year “anyone dying before 80 is young.”

So, my mother worked with his father and we grew up on the same street.  His dad drank heavily and so did he but that’s what we did then.  He transferred in high school to an exclusive Catholic high.  I went to college with 6 boys from that school.  They told me that his drinking so disgusted them that they themselves threw him off the bus.  We used to drink at the same bar in our late teens and early twenties.

A memory – the New Year’s Eve  I was 21, I ended up at a party at his house with my two best friends.  The other Tress(same name) and I had dates.  Let’s put it this way, she was going out with Donnie and when I was around we used to double with his best friend who was called Hoppy, seriously.  He was far from hoppy but around 6 foot something and a solid 200 pounds plus.  He was a time filler for me.  Our other friend was just along for the ride.  Our original plan was to have a sleepover at my parents and then the guys came up with this party plan.  Somehow towards the end of the evening we ended up at J’s house.  His parents were there and some others too.  Not mine; not only did they no longer go out on New Years anymore but my mother didn’t like his father – read heavy drinker.  And it must have been very heavy as the first time I was drunk in public  was at her boss’s home(same company)  when I was around 16.  Different era, different mores.  Anyway,  Hoppy takes me over to his parents “Ma, Dad, this is the girl I have been telling you about.”  Big shock to me.  I don’t, didn’t do relationships, especially at that age.  So I am doing the drunken nice girl chat with parents and when I get away, M,  my other friend is in Hoppy’s lap, cooing to him “I want it and want it now.”  Different era, stumbled out of the house and walked the two long blocks home including one block that was a ballfield.  And it was a four lane road opposite parkway woods and a parkway.  A drunk 20-something couldn’t do that now.  Went into the house and my parents called out and asked where everyone else was.  The other Tress is with Donnie at J’s house and M?  M is f*cking her brains out with Hoppy”  Now you have to understand that was a big evil word then and I am known for not using “bad” words.  Upshot?  Parents yell at me for the profanity and M  comes in much later.  The other Tress never spoke to her again.  I am more forgiving but have to admit that I saw her in the subway 20 years ago or so and she was completely grey! Revenge is a dish best served cold.

At that point in time,  J was getting his life back together.  We used to hang in the same bar and have drinks. He was working at the local grocery store stocking frozen food.  He was going back to school.  He was very, very smart.  We had always been in the advanced class.  Then he said he made a girl pregnant that he didn’t even really like (it may have been the alcohol talking) and that was it.

Fast forward years and the advent of FB.  He was mad crazy about his grandson and was a successful guy.  Our high school always has a picnic and three years ago, I went.  Topic for another day.  There’s a candid shot of the two of us jabbering away.

 

But and there is always a but, he was far right and I am far left.  I grew up in Levittown and far right is the way most people lean but back in the day things didn’t seem as absolute.  I always knew that my views were not held by most.  J and I had a teacher in 7th grade who on reflection probably was in the John Birch society.  I vaguely reflect an argument over my not saying the Pledge of Allegiance with J.  Still, see above, we drank together.  However, I just couldn’t take it on FB.  As we and society have aged, we have become more polarized.  I hate hate speech.  Uh, yeah Levittown – 99.6 or 99.7 white when I was growing up.  I was at a high school dinner in Levittown a few summers ago and they were talking about how Nixon was right with Watergate not ‘Nam but Watergate.  Put Obama into the picture and just imagine.  I have only unfriended one person on FB and it was another elementary school onwards person with racist hate.  So, I hid J.  I only saw innocuous likes.

I knew he had moved back onto the Island from a neighboring state.  Today,  I see that he was right here in my town.  He was truly a part of my growing up.  Because I hid him, I didn’t know.  We could have and should have been able to move beyond politics to that common childhood.

When did we as a society become so divisive?  I recently read that people are deciding where to move based on the overall political makeup of an area.  What happened to us?  Where is the veneer of tolerance?  Fake it till ya make it works sometimes.  We are cutting off discourse and therefore growth.  I am guilty.  I am thinking of what I missed the last few years by cutting J off.  It makes this loss huger.

We don’t know what Fate holds for us, why waste time.

I mourn for J and for missteps.

Carpe Diem.  RIP J and I’ll be lifting a glass to Auld Lang Syne.