December 7 – “Magical inventions and waffle cakes and … balance”

Two more thank you’s are in order. Five-year-old Noa brought me a gift when they were here the other day.  Well, her Mommy might have had a bit to do with it.  It is a coffee cup holder that attaches to my walker.  It was made by Fisher-Price, so I’m pretty sure it was designed to be on a stroller, but hey … this is a Magical Invention.  Now I can go get a refill of my coffee or sweet tea without sneaking away from my walker and risking getting caught by the Chris police. 

And the other “thanks” goes to our good neighbors, Corey and Janell and Brennan.  Seems they were experimenting in their kitchen again, and we get to be the guinea pigs – er – I mean, beneficiaries of their projects.  Well, this one was truly a rousing success.  They made a waffle cake.  That’s right, they just poured cake batter on the waffle iron until it cooked.  The bottom layer was vanilla, the top layer was chocolate, and it had a cream filling in between.  Not to mention the yummy chocolate icing on top.  Scrumptious.  Bring over your experiments any time.

Normalcy.  I had a bit of a taste of it yesterday.  Just a bit, mind you.  Chris let me put gas in the car without my walker on the way to physical therapy.  Boy, did I ever feel special.  Not for long.  See, just as I get all prepared for physical therapy with my little student (I found out her name, by the way.  Still can’t pronounce it, but she goes by M.J.  I told her Spiderman would love it), I get switched back to the real deal therapist.  Seems it was suddenly time for me to work on balance.  All balance workout.  All balance.  Extremely difficult stuff.  I had to balance on a special machine.  Remember when that student told me she could “make it more difficult, but I won’t”?  Well her boss was not so kind.  I thought I knew just what to expect, but suddenly the floor started moving beneath my feet.  Quite the unnerving experience.  Everything I accomplished under the student on a stationary floor was now under earthquake attack.  My score back then was 98%.  Yesterday I hovered in the 79% range.  But the boss lady was pleased with it.  I was just tired.  But that wasn’t all.  Next she pulled out four or five different platforms with a round base.  I had to balance on them.  One at least was kind of fun.  I had to use my balance skills to move a ball through a maze to the center.  Had three minutes to do it five times.  The first four were easy.  Then she told me to let go of the handrails with one hand.  I barely made it with fifteen seconds to spare.  Next I hand to do the balancing on a pillow with one foot in front of the other.  Not so tough.  Until she made me close my eyes.  My whole body began shaking with the effort.  And she must have enjoyed the spectacle, because she had there other positions where I had to do the same thing.  When we finished that sequence she calmly explained to me that balance is three things: what you see with your eyes, what you feel with your feet, and some chemicals sloshing around in your head near your ears.  I think that fun fact was supposed to somehow make me feel better.  All I knew was, all of my gas station dreams of normalcy were pretty much dashed.  Shaking my head, I made my way over to the stationary bike to drown my weariness in a “cool-down” bike ride.  At least there I could set a goal and go for it.  I made it a mile and a half in ten minutes.  Woo-hoo. 

I should really try to learn something from that balance workout.  I know there’s a sermon in there somewhere.  Balance is a good thing.  Balance is really hard to achieve.  Balance takes a lot of hard work.  Balance requires three totally separate parts of the body to work together seamlessly.

Psalms 119:30-32 says, “I have chosen the way of truth; I have set my heart on your laws.  I hold fast to your statutes, O Lord; do not let me be put to shame.  I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.”

Father, thank you for the special treat from the Geran’s and the gift from Noa.  Those little things really make my Hallmark-movie-overload day.  Amen.

December 6 – “A foodly expression”

We were blessed and highly favored at just the right time yesterday.  Chris was up to her elbows in preparations for Bethlehem Street Market coming up this Saturday.  And she has been for pretty much all of this week and much of last.  Tuesday she worked most of the afternoon with some of the Seaside ladies putting up Christmas trees and cleaning.  Yesterday she put in an entire workday at the church with Lauren.  They swept and mopped the worship center, vacuumed the retreat center, cleaned bathrooms, restocked toilet paper and paper towels, and even made time to mark out all the booth spaces for Saturday.  Today after taking me to physical therapy, she has to make a Sam’s run to get the stuff for the food, and then has to be back in time to pick up Cailyn from school.  And in between there she sees that I have the correct medications and have access to everything I might need that I’m not able to get to on my own.  Wow.  What a menu of items.  What a woman to check off all those “todo’s.” 

So all of that to say, Ed and Pat (Seasiders) showed up with a meatloaf and potatoes and carrots for lunch.  Not to mention the brownies (for me, according to Ed) and pretty flowers (obviously for Chris).  Now don’t get me wrong.  We haven’t been going hungry or anything.  We still had some ham from Thanksgiving and those complete meal things, and Chris is a master at putting together meals at a moment’s notice.  It’s just that, as humbling as it is to be on the receiving end instead of being the one doing the giving, it was very nice in the midst of the madness to be able to simply peel back the aluminum foil and dig in.  And there was plenty for some great leftovers last night.  Thank you, Ed and Pat, for your foodly expression of practical love. 

Psalms 119:18-19 says, “Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law.  I am a stranger on earth; do not hide your commands from me.”

Father, thank you for The Jackson’s and for the others who have shown us expressions of love in various forms.  Bless them.  Amen.

December 5 – “Telescopic Vision and the IP Award”

I had another dream/vision episode.  In this one an old friend from about 20 years ago, named Bobby was aiming a rifle from some deserted football stands down toward a neighborhood street below.  He told me he had heard a car come to a stop and really loud music playing a song from Little Mermaid.  He was using the gun scope to check it out.  I turned to the street and was able to see (like I had Superman’s telescopic vision) that there was indeed a car, now empty, with all the doors open.  Oh, and the music was still playing, and somehow I knew it was from Little Mermaid, but I couldn’t tell you the name of the song. Surrounding the car was a bunch of scrawny junior high kids all dressed up like they had been to a dance or something.  They were being read the riot act by their parents – one dad in particular.  Why?  Because they had attempted a home invasion … at their neighbor’s house.  As far as I could tell Bobby never fired the rifle.  As is my custom when I see someone specific in a dream, I spent a few minutes praying for Bobby. 

I had my second physical therapy appointment yesterday.  I figured I had this PT stuff down based on the last one.  And when I realized I had been assigned to the student who had shadowed the therapist last time, I figured I was in and out, easy-peasy.  Umm.  Not so much.  Did you know those machines they have filling up space in that physical therapy department are for more than just to make it look like a spa?  I had to start out riding one of those bike things.  Chris came over to gloat on that one.  Not my favorite thing in the world to do.  I couldn’t get the concept down of what I was supposed to do, though.  Pedal half way, then come back.  Didn’t seem to make sense to me.  How could I ever get to the half-mile mark (My own self-imposed goal)?  As it turned out, I started pedaling all the way around anyway.  Couldn’t help myself.  Next I went to a machine where I laid down on an incline and had to push myself up with my legs.  That one I felt.  Still do.  Then I did some of the old exercises on a table.  Not too bad.  Next was a balance machine that was like playing a video game.  She said I scored a 98%.  But before I could feel too good about myself she said that she could set it to more difficult.  Thanks for that.  Then I just had to walk back and forth a few times.  She noticed that my feet were too close together and left foot instep as turning in as I walked.  Something to work on.  Finished up with an ice pack on the knee.  Whew.  And I have to do it all again on Thursday.  I did get one little bit of affirmation.  I was designated as IP by the student.  That stands for Ideal Patient.  We’ll see how long that lasts.

While I was working out, Chris was socializing with our old neighbors, Mario and Carolyn.  Marion was just finishing up his therapy for the day after his heart attack back in May.  Always good to see them. 

Psalms 119:9-11 says, “How can a young man keep his way pure?  By living according to your word.  I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands.  I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.”

Father, be with Mario as he works through his physical therapy.  And thank you for my little student who is working with me.  Give her a great day.  Amen.

December 4 – “A soccer-ish shock”

While Nathan and John took care of trimming our trees the other day, inside the house Cailyn sat with me as I did my exercises.  Cheered me on is more like it.  She counted with me.  She encouraged me.  After one particularly difficult leg lift, she said, “I can’t even do that one right now, DadDad.”  Aww.  So sweet, right?  Then she continued, “But then, you can’t do 25 jumping jacks, can you?”  Nope.  Got me there.  Ouch. 

We kept Ezra for a few hours while Christina and the rest of the family went to a Christmas tea at their church. He inspected my walker very carefully when he arrived.  When he got down to the wheels he smiled, backed off a little and said, “DadDad’s vroom, vroom.”  That’s my boy.

I stayed at home Sunday by myself.  Kind of like a student pilot flying solo for the first time.  Chris set everything up for me so I wouldn’t have to do much walking around or carrying.  Even had the peanut butter and jelly set out for my lunch.  It was very strange to be home alone on a Sunday, though.  And then Chris stayed at church to help with hanging of the greens, so it was an extended flight.  I know there was a football game on at some time in there, but honestly, I spent a lot of time sleeping.  I did get my exercises in twice, though.  Of course that in itself wears me out enough to need a nap each time.  And I hadn’t had a good night sleeping the night before.  Lots of pain around midnight and again around 4 a.m. 

Latest drug-induced vision: I saw a round soccerball-looking object rolling toward me, so I got all prepared to kick it.  But as it got close to me, I realized that it was actually a really fat cat just rolling by.  And in deference to those who would have actually enjoyed meeting such a creature, no, I did not go ahead and kick it.  Guess the Round Cat Shock was more than I could handle.

I had my quarterly hearing aid checkup appointment yesterday.  We drove all the way over there.  I was even sitting in the chair for the exam.  That’s when I realized something.  No, I had my pants on.  This wasn’t one of those dreams.  I realized that I didn’t have … my hearing aids.  Totally forgot to stick them in my ears.  Not much they can do with nothing to work with.  Chris went home and picked them up for me, though.  To her credit she wasn’t totally merciless in making fun of me.  It was pretty funny, though.  Sure made me laugh every time I thought about it for the rest of the day.  While Chris was gone I took care of the money stuff.  Had to spring for $400 to renew the manufacturer’s warranty (already used it once, so I didn’t want to lose that “benefit”).  We’ll have to come up with another $300 by March to keep the regular service contract in effect as well. 

Psalms 119:2 says, “Blessed are they who keep his statutes and seek him with all their heart.”

Father, thank you for memories of jumping jacks and vroom-vroom’s and even forgotten hearing aids.  Amen.

December 3 – “Revenge of the Oleander”

We were hit by a surprise random act of radical kindness the other day.  At least it was a surprise to me.  Nathan and his fire fighter buddy John showed up at our front door primed and ready to hang up our outside Christmas lights.  Chris has been insisting that she could get it done, given just a minimal amount of assistance. Perhaps me handing her the strands from the confines of my walker.  I was dubious at best.  But they solved the light hanging problem … and more. 

Also on my list for some time has been the fact that we have sycamore tree branches hanging dangerously close to our roof.  Substantial tree branches.  I have been worried that they might be blowing against the house to the detriment of the shingles.  Then there is also the ever-present thought in the back of my mind (and anyone’s mind who lives on a tropical island in the Gulf of Mexico) … hurricanes.  Any errant branch is a potential hole in the ceiling and another insurance headache.  So when the guys finished up the lights, they started in on tree branches.  And trim they did.  any remote hesitation by Chris was taken as a “yes,” and they had the branches down and hauled away in short order.  They also trimmed back some of the dead palm branches on the other side of the yard.  And then … they turned to the oleander.

That oleander bush has quite the history, as I have mentioned before.  For many years it was the only one of its variety on the whole island.  More recently, it was a reminder of the amazing power of God as shown in his creation.  We thought Hurricane Ike had killed it, so we trimmed it down almost to the ground.  And then a tiny sprout fought its way to the surface.  And from that tiny sprout we now have a huge tree/bush again.  A huge tree/bush that needed trimming.  So Nathan went after it.  And to my surprise – and perhaps to Chris’ chagrin – he lopped off quite a bit.  Then, all of a sudden, the oleander fought back.  It was as if an internal monster had been awakened.  During what he thought would be a simple snip of the wrist, Nathan received the partial wrath of that oleander (I can’t say the full wrath, because as we all know, oleanders are poisonous.  Their full wrath is not something I want anyone I love to experience any time soon).  The cutting tool snapped right in half.  Broke right through the bolt, making that tool absolutely useless.  “Vengeance is mine,” saith the oleander. 

Psalms 118:28 says, “You are my God, and I will give you thanks; you are my God, and I will exalt you.”

Father, thank you for our surprise ministry visit.  It meant a lot.  Bless Nathan and John for their efforts.  Amen. 

December 2 – “Mercy”

My first follow-up physical therapy appointment is now behind me.  I had heard a lot about this one, about how truly difficult it was sure to be.  When we were checking in, I received an encouraging text from Josh: “Praying for strength and a merciful therapist.”  I thought that was really sweet, so I read it out loud.  The receptionist heard it and replied, “Aww.  You didn’t get that one.”  Ouch.  I told Josh what she said and he responded, “You better start praying for God’s mercy then.”  The only reply I could come up with was, “Aaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhh.”

It was a pretty tough workout.  She had to do all the initial measurements, and she also had to explain everything to the student who was working with her.   She was also supposed to have a family medicine resident shadowing her, but that lady left soon after I met her.  Guess I scared her off.  The workout itself was actually easier than the regimen I was sent home from the hospital with.  Well, not so much easier.  But shorter.  Certainly shorter.  My favorite part, though, was when she showed her merciful side.  Ready for this one?  She slipped a WalMart bag over my foot.  Called it her “leg lift assist paraphernalia.”  It did make it easier to slide my foot along the mat.  All in all, the workout, as “easy” as it seemed, did knock me for a loop.  I was ready to crash when we got home.

But first, on the way home, we stopped at the post office to mail a package.  Chris went in while I stayed in the car and attempted to recover (read here “nap”).  Suddenly my phone rang.  It was a call from New Orleans.  Normally I don’t answer calls I don’t recognize, but I was groggy anyway, so why not?  I thought it might be entertaining.  As it turned out, I did know the person calling.  It was the father of the bride of that wedding I did right before Thanksgiving.  He was just calling to check up on me after the surgery.  After I told Chris about it she asked if I had asked about his wife.   She was scheduled to have the same surgery.  Of course I did not ask.  I was lucky I remembered who the guy was.  I will pray for his wife, though.  Dianne is her name.

Jim and Charlett came by to chat for a while.  I thought at first they were being good friends and checking up on me after surgery.  And I’m sure there was that.  But I think deep down, Jim just wanted to make sure Chris was going to be at church this morning for hanging of the greens.  She’s coming, Jim.

Psalms 119:1 says, “Blessed are they whose ways are blameless, who walk according to the law of the Lord.”

Father, please be with Dianne as she undergoes her surgery over in New Orleans.  Give her an easy recovery and a merciful physical therapist.  Amen.

December 1 – “Home is where the ... PT ... is”

Well, once at home the hospital physical therapy staff induced exercise regimen kicked in with a vengeance.  Gotta get as far along as I can before the “real” physical therapy starts where I have to go into the sweat shop and work out for a therapist for an hour.  Although the good thing will be the ice pack at the end.  That always feel good.  But for now … three times a day – nine, two and six … ish – for 45 minutes to an hour at a time.  And that includes, of course, Chris checking up on me when I least expect it to make sure I haven’t fallen asleep or figured out a way to get out of a particularly difficult exercise.  Or two.  Actually there are three that are particularly tough …

I am still seeing random things when I close my eyes after taking the stronger of the pain meds.  Last night I saw with extreme clarity a car belonging to the warden of a Louisiana prison.  How did I know it was his car?  The Louisiana state government issues license plate said so.  Oh, and another thing I noticed about the visions.  They are in black and white.  No color at all.  I was disappointed to realize that one. Maybe I should stick to the other pain pills …

We received an unexpected delivery the other day.  It was a fruit basket with a poinsettia in the middle.  I guess with the romaine lettuce scare we are trying other things in our salads these days.  Seriously, though, it was a very sweet gesture from Trish and Tommy Anderson. 

Psalms 118:28 says, “You are my God, and I will give you thanks; you are my God, and I will exalt you.”

Father, thank you for our fruit basket friends, the Andersons.  Bless them for the concern they showed us.  Amen.