I've heard or read this comment a thousand times since I turned 50. Believe me it's true.
In the mid-1990s I had a car wreck that ruined my body for the rest of my life. I had been fairly capable until then except for chronic insomnia and headaches that weren't migraines but every doctor thought they were. Therefore there was no treatment, only pain pills. I learned this is part of fibromyalgia. Google it and you'll find all kinds of things about it.
The wreck was on a side street I travel on my way home from work. A young woman, also coming home from work and going to pick up her baby, ran a stop sign and hit my right front wheel. The impact turned me completely around, hit a phone pole and landed against a tree in someone's yard. I seemed to be fine when I came to a stop but after 4 hours in the ER, the pain was enough to make me pass out. Some kind man, whose yard I had desecrated (I think) called my husband and he met me at the hospital, saw me through the exam and X-rays and took me home. Since the pain was building fast, I had to have a shot so I could stand in front of the X-ray machine. Husband took me home and with the help of a neighbor, poured me into bed. He slept on the floor beside my bed the whole night. I woke him at 6 a.m. to help me go to the bathroom.
Four years later I had breast cancer. Again, my husband was my lifesaver.
My mother died in 1963 and my dad in 1994. I don't miss my father. Wish I had some good memories.
Ten years after cancer, my heart started racing and I couldn't breathe. Atrial fibrillation and congestive heart failure. Husband was a lifesaver again. (I think I'll keep him as long as I can.) I'm still dealing with that.
Meanwhile fibromyalgia has been a constant, along with blood pressure problems. Every now and then I have an episode of devastating pain or insomnia that nearly does me in. Husband DOES NOT approve of the pills I take for that.
Have I mentioned my two children have grown and left home? One is married and has given me the only granddaughter I'll probably ever have. A mixture of gloom and a bright spot.
Dealing with Medicare, a supplement, medicine, do I get a flu shot, in light of the probability that I'll have a reaction? Osteoporosis. Bad feet. Arthritis. Geez! it's enough to make me cry.
Stay young as long as you can.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Update
I just read a book by J. A. Jance, "Hand of Evil." In it,
Ali Reynolds is a former TV anchor and has been laid off. As part of coping with her unemployment, she writes a blog, cutlooseblog.com and it's very popular. She enjoys sharing her life with people and sometimes helping them with problems. She seems to get a great deal of saatisfaction.
I wondered about reviving my own blogs, at least one of them. At one time I thought about trying to continue my news avocation but just didn't have the interest. Also not ready to give up the time it would take. However, this book made me think again.
I think I'm going to try again. If you want to write to me, I'd welcome it. I'll finish this introduction and then begin my first installment. I don't know if it will continue but I'll give it a shot.
I think all my email addresses are listed but if you want to write to me, send it to lhs1939@gmail.com.
Ali Reynolds is a former TV anchor and has been laid off. As part of coping with her unemployment, she writes a blog, cutlooseblog.com and it's very popular. She enjoys sharing her life with people and sometimes helping them with problems. She seems to get a great deal of saatisfaction.
I wondered about reviving my own blogs, at least one of them. At one time I thought about trying to continue my news avocation but just didn't have the interest. Also not ready to give up the time it would take. However, this book made me think again.
I think I'm going to try again. If you want to write to me, I'd welcome it. I'll finish this introduction and then begin my first installment. I don't know if it will continue but I'll give it a shot.
I think all my email addresses are listed but if you want to write to me, send it to lhs1939@gmail.com.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
In memory of Marian
I must get these thoughts on paper before they drive me to distraction.
She was one of "The Girls" who ate lunch every Tuesday at McGuire's Pub in downtown Hickory, NC along with Marcia Copper and me. She was a tiny woman, less than 100 pounds soaking wet, about 5 feet 1 or 2. In her youth she had been a strapping 5 feet 7-plus, still slim, but had built an athletic physique from being a championship swimmer. I didn't know her then. She had 3 husbands and 4 children, her children by the first 2 husbands and her true love was the 3rd, Joe Belk, a world-class trombonist. She, a French Horn player, and he had been married too short a time when cancer took his life. She was devastated but never let anyone see her cry. She said often, "I don't stew." Meaning she didn't dwell on the past; if she remembered it all she remembered the good times.
She was 82 when she died and her luncheon companions were 69 and 76 at the time of her death. We had known her 20 years, give or take, and had steadily watched as illness and finally death claimed her.
But we'll never forget her. She had strong opinions, such as she couldn't abide cell phones in public places; she loved classical music and when she worked it was to the accompaniament of a classical music station; She maybe didn't stew but she was prone to anger when something displeased her, such as when she needed a haircut. She would say, "I need a haircut! I've kept putting it off. You know, don't you, that I have 7 crowns (points on the scalp from which her hair grew) and nobody can cut my hair." She said this with arms flying all around her head to emphasize the point.
She kept up with everything relating to current events and could tell anyone who asked about the presidential candidates. She kept up with the best and worst of them and their associates. She read only two newspapers but she read every single word.
Among her most indignant comments had to do with those newspapers: misspelled words and incorrect grammar. She could tell you every rule of grammar and she frequently wrote letters to the editors about some sin a reporter had committed when it came to grammar, spelling and punctuation.
Songs? She could remember songs most of us had long since forgotten. "Poor little Rhode Island," she would sing. "You are my sunshine," she sang another time. Then there was "Toot, Toot, Tootsie Goodbye" and "Goodnight Sweetheart." She sang them acapella -- and in tune. Just for her friends.
There is much more to be said for Marian Belk. Someday I might come back and tell you some more about her.
She was one of "The Girls" who ate lunch every Tuesday at McGuire's Pub in downtown Hickory, NC along with Marcia Copper and me. She was a tiny woman, less than 100 pounds soaking wet, about 5 feet 1 or 2. In her youth she had been a strapping 5 feet 7-plus, still slim, but had built an athletic physique from being a championship swimmer. I didn't know her then. She had 3 husbands and 4 children, her children by the first 2 husbands and her true love was the 3rd, Joe Belk, a world-class trombonist. She, a French Horn player, and he had been married too short a time when cancer took his life. She was devastated but never let anyone see her cry. She said often, "I don't stew." Meaning she didn't dwell on the past; if she remembered it all she remembered the good times.
She was 82 when she died and her luncheon companions were 69 and 76 at the time of her death. We had known her 20 years, give or take, and had steadily watched as illness and finally death claimed her.
But we'll never forget her. She had strong opinions, such as she couldn't abide cell phones in public places; she loved classical music and when she worked it was to the accompaniament of a classical music station; She maybe didn't stew but she was prone to anger when something displeased her, such as when she needed a haircut. She would say, "I need a haircut! I've kept putting it off. You know, don't you, that I have 7 crowns (points on the scalp from which her hair grew) and nobody can cut my hair." She said this with arms flying all around her head to emphasize the point.
She kept up with everything relating to current events and could tell anyone who asked about the presidential candidates. She kept up with the best and worst of them and their associates. She read only two newspapers but she read every single word.
Among her most indignant comments had to do with those newspapers: misspelled words and incorrect grammar. She could tell you every rule of grammar and she frequently wrote letters to the editors about some sin a reporter had committed when it came to grammar, spelling and punctuation.
Songs? She could remember songs most of us had long since forgotten. "Poor little Rhode Island," she would sing. "You are my sunshine," she sang another time. Then there was "Toot, Toot, Tootsie Goodbye" and "Goodnight Sweetheart." She sang them acapella -- and in tune. Just for her friends.
There is much more to be said for Marian Belk. Someday I might come back and tell you some more about her.
Introduction
OK, well I've started a handful of blogs and haven't continued with any of them. Finally I thought of an idea. We'll see if I can keep this one going.
This is stuff that happens to me or somebody else, or something I've learned, or something I want to teach somebody else.
For instance, I love my computer. It's 7 years old (bought in 2001 by my son and his wife, who became prosperous and bought a better one so they gave me their old one. That's fine. It's good enough for me.) In the last two months I have reinstalled my system at least half-a-dozen times, which shows you how proficient I am. I can find my way around a PC. I used to say that about my Mac, but it got old and won't meet my needs any more and I couldn't afford a new one and besides, I didn't like what I had learned about OSX so when the free PC popped up, I jumped at it. I figured it couldn't be too much different from the Mac. For the most part, I was right.
The nice thing about a PC is that you can burn your own CDs. And there are all kinds of CDs to burn: CD-R, which is a permanent effort, you can't erase bad moves and put in something better; CD-RW, which is erasable but won't work in certain situations; and there's even a 3 1/2" floppy, which is obsolete in most cases.
Just a few weeks ago, my CD started giving me trouble. This is about the beginning of my reinstallation of the systems. The ROS, as I'm going to call them, in the fashion of today's acronyms, call for backing up your data but to keep email you have to have to find out where to put the icons that represent folders in your email program. I couldn't do that. (For instance, I had several folders for email I wished to keep for later purposes; in the case of one of the ROS, I couldn't do that. In later ROS, I didn't think about saving them so they're gone forever.
Now, to the purpose of this blog: one of my disk drives had developed the annoying habit of not closing or opening in response to the little button that is supposed to make that happen. Then my son sent me a passel of grandbaby pictures (My first one!!!! I can't get enough pictures) and I couldn't read them off the disk. I tried everything. I finally decided to take it to CVS for printing and their machine could read it just fine. The prints were beautiful!
Then began my trek of trying to fix disk drives. I tried every trick I could think of. I asked a friend and he gave me a routine. It didn't work. Then I Googles the situation and found a users' group to see if there was a situation listed. There was, and I tried it. It involved un-installing the drivers for the disk drives so I did that, the PC reinstalled them for me. But nothing different happened. Except...the disk drive began working properly again!
Ain't that a hoot? That's the way most things happen. The late columnist Syndey Harris (whom I admired extensively) used to have something he called "Things I Learned on the Way to Look Up Something Else," so I guess that would fit this situation: something I learned while looking up something else. From that came an axiom: never discard any knowledge...there might be a nugget of wisdom in there.
This is stuff that happens to me or somebody else, or something I've learned, or something I want to teach somebody else.
For instance, I love my computer. It's 7 years old (bought in 2001 by my son and his wife, who became prosperous and bought a better one so they gave me their old one. That's fine. It's good enough for me.) In the last two months I have reinstalled my system at least half-a-dozen times, which shows you how proficient I am. I can find my way around a PC. I used to say that about my Mac, but it got old and won't meet my needs any more and I couldn't afford a new one and besides, I didn't like what I had learned about OSX so when the free PC popped up, I jumped at it. I figured it couldn't be too much different from the Mac. For the most part, I was right.
The nice thing about a PC is that you can burn your own CDs. And there are all kinds of CDs to burn: CD-R, which is a permanent effort, you can't erase bad moves and put in something better; CD-RW, which is erasable but won't work in certain situations; and there's even a 3 1/2" floppy, which is obsolete in most cases.
Just a few weeks ago, my CD started giving me trouble. This is about the beginning of my reinstallation of the systems. The ROS, as I'm going to call them, in the fashion of today's acronyms, call for backing up your data but to keep email you have to have to find out where to put the icons that represent folders in your email program. I couldn't do that. (For instance, I had several folders for email I wished to keep for later purposes; in the case of one of the ROS, I couldn't do that. In later ROS, I didn't think about saving them so they're gone forever.
Now, to the purpose of this blog: one of my disk drives had developed the annoying habit of not closing or opening in response to the little button that is supposed to make that happen. Then my son sent me a passel of grandbaby pictures (My first one!!!! I can't get enough pictures) and I couldn't read them off the disk. I tried everything. I finally decided to take it to CVS for printing and their machine could read it just fine. The prints were beautiful!
Then began my trek of trying to fix disk drives. I tried every trick I could think of. I asked a friend and he gave me a routine. It didn't work. Then I Googles the situation and found a users' group to see if there was a situation listed. There was, and I tried it. It involved un-installing the drivers for the disk drives so I did that, the PC reinstalled them for me. But nothing different happened. Except...the disk drive began working properly again!
Ain't that a hoot? That's the way most things happen. The late columnist Syndey Harris (whom I admired extensively) used to have something he called "Things I Learned on the Way to Look Up Something Else," so I guess that would fit this situation: something I learned while looking up something else. From that came an axiom: never discard any knowledge...there might be a nugget of wisdom in there.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
