The Next Step

Inspirational song: Propinquity (I've Just Begun to Care) (Michael Nesmith)

After a full week of being too shy to whip out the blue placard, this evening I screwed up my courage and took the decent parking space. It was at King Soopers, and my closest store has a significantly sloped parking lot. I wasn't in a position to hoof it up the hill from where the plentiful open spaces were, and there were two handicapped spots near the top in the center aisle. I pulled in, grabbed the mirror-hanger from the glove box, and walked slowly into the store using my cane. It wasn't for show. I needed it for balance. Each step was making little shocks of electricity run through my nerves in such a way that I felt it all the way to my teeth. Should I have been driving, feeling as I did? Possibly not. But King Soopers isn't all that far from the house, and I needed an easy dinner (salad topped with rotisserie chicken). 

I had gone out earlier in the afternoon, intending to go to Ulta for a special curly hair deep conditioner, and to Lowe's looking for a different shower head. The closest parking to Ulta was open and not restricted in any way, so I was good there. But as I stood in line, I got dizzier and dizzier, enough to forego my second stop and just head home. I thought maybe eating French fries on the drive would help, as all I had eaten until then was watermelon, but despite being delicious, they did little to calm my buzzing nerves. 

I've made some adjustments to my medications lately. I am working on the theory that this is behind much of my difficulty in the last week. I don't know how long to give it to decide whether to revert to the old routine. I feel like I should power through, and give this my best effort. My rheumatologist offered to let me go six months in between visits, but I said I wasn't ready to stop seeing her quarterly. Maybe my hesitation was warranted.

Flame

Inspirational song: Heart of Glass (Blondie)

Last night was pretty rough. My first real bug in over a year laid me low. My fever broke somewhere around 3 am, but I didn't get any good sleep until after about 5:15 (when last I checked the time). I was sore as hell today, but at least it wasn't like yesterday. 

I rose with four stated goals, to shower, wear clothes, eat food, and take my pills. I accomplished three of the four. Pills were just too much to expect. And I'm giving myself the W even though my clothes ended up being a sweatshirt and fuzzy pajama pants. It was cold and rainy here all day, and I never exited the house. Close enough.

It wasn't until late afternoon, after the baby went home from her grandparents-time, that I was ready for a small cup of coffee. That little bit of caffeine was enough to drive away a lingering headache. Now I have confidence I'll be back to normal tomorrow. It was strange, catching a bug like this, after so long without them. I guess the world really is getting back to itself now, isn't it?

In my quest to take it easy today, I found myself fully invested in some two-hour long glassblowing videos from the Corning museum of glass. Who knew that would involve such tension and suspense? I followed up with a series on the great fire of London. Is this a theme? Fever one day, fire the next?

Loosey Goosey

Inspirational song: Alone Again in the Lap of Luxury (Marillion)

Not sure which cutesy saying fits best here. No good deed goes unpunished? Or better, This is why we can't have nice things? A year and a half of masking and hand sanitizer, and none of us getting the flu or colds or stuff, and as soon as it relaxes, some people turn into monsters who don't wash their hands before going to the grocery store. At least, that is what I choose to blame. The only non-family places I went Wednesday and Thursday were two grocery stores and a pharmacy. By Thursday night I was feeling vaguely not-right. By dinner last night, my torso was feeling wrecked and I could only eat half my meal. I felt like I had been tightly trussed with twine like a pinwheel steak. Today is a total write-off. (I could describe my digestion in funny terms, but because I am kind, I will keep that an in-house observation.) I haven't had an honest-to-god stomach bug in a year and a half, but I recognize all the signs. As my rheumatologist says when I describe extra symptoms, "that's not lupus."

So, yeah. My tummy hurts. I'm under more blankets than I usually tolerate. I'm ready to sign off and lie in the dark and hope I kick this by morning.

Bloom

Inspirational song: Thunder Road (Bruce Springsteen)

There I sat, placard in hand, ready to park in my first authorized handicap spot. I hurt everywhere, and I wanted to park close to the restaurant where we were going to eat. As we drove up, it was immediately obvious tonight would not be my maiden voyage in accessible parking. There was a bank next to the restaurant, with limited-access (time of day restricted) parking that was actually closer to the door than the handicap spot. I have had my placards for five days, and I have yet to use it. My time will come.

The girls came over very briefly this morning, to pick up some baby food that we were unlikely to use anytime soon. During that short visit, the toddler walked across the living room rug, from my ottoman to my great-grandmother's old rocking chair, like a champ. She also got a nibble of Nutella, while her grandpa was scraping out the last of a jar I bought to put on crepes a few weeks ago. (There is a reason we don't keep it on hand--it disappears.) We dropped by later in the day, to trade raspberries we dug up for a couple roses that our daughter pulled out of her yard. Two chances to see our Grump in one day. This is the life.

I made myself go out and plant one more large pot this afternoon. I'm not sure how it happened so fast, but that one little activity was enough to make all my muscles sore and lead me to think I'd be using my parking permit. I didn't capture any photos of the new pot. It needs to grow in a bit and rebloom before it is ready for show. On the up side, our columbines are spectacular this year.

What Sounds Good?

Inspirational song: Making Plans for Nigel (XTC)

Now that I'm feeling brave, it's time to start thinking about what to do out in the world. We should probably ease back into things. No SRO concerts or shoulder to shoulder sporting events (go Buffs) quite yet. Those might be good this fall. I looked up the schedule for Trail Ridge Road today, and learned it is supposed to reopen for the year tomorrow. The Mr, who had asked me to do that particular Google search, responded with "Dare we?" I am not sure whether we will go up to Rocky Mountain National Park tomorrow, just for the drive over the top, but maybe we will. It would be mostly just the two of us in our own car, but at the visitors center at the top, there will be big crowds, I can guarantee. 

We will be traveling to Vegas in August for a wedding, which will be fun even though it will be in the freaking desert in freaking August. I am glad the couple dismissed the idea of marrying out in the wild desert itself. I would have had to bring a beach umbrella and battery powered fan if they had. It will be in a wedding chapel, thankfully, and partying at the Fremont Street experience. I think that will easily qualify as a crowd of people. 

So between now and then, I need to work up my tolerance from a mostly protected drive through a national park to walking around old Las Vegas with a bunch of strangers. What can I do to get used to being around humans again? Last night was a good start, with eleven of us around a patio table. Next week, we are going to do boxed lunches for the first in-person Rotary in more than a year. Maybe by the end of June I will be ready to go to a movie in a theater again. I could use some suggestions for other ways to step up re-entry into the world of humans again.

No Dice

Inspirational song: Get Together (The Youngbloods)

We did it! We all saw each other face to face on the patio, and it was wonderful! I even got to hug two of my friends who I haven't seen in a year and a half. Y'all, get the vaccine. Real Life is waiting for us, and it's great. 

We had a hard time focusing on the game, because we were so happy to be around a single table again. It might have been a little frustrating for Mr S-P as the game master, but we couldn't stop breaking into side conversations, jumping up to refill plates or mix drinks, and take turns playing with the baby. Two of the guys had either never seen Valerie in person or not seen her other than a brief meeting last summer when we thought lockdowns were ending and that must mean we could meet again. She was on fire, she was so entertaining-- meeting everyone, babbling and giggling, learning that trampolines are bouncy, and leading me to ask her whether she had chosen her Hogwarts house yet (see broom photo).

The game might have been utter chaos, but the hors d'oeurves and drinks were divine. The Ks (how I am trying to refer to neighbors as a group going forward) set out a charcuterie board and had a sautéed cheese with a name I can't recall (something they got at Cheese Importers, that I need to buy for us). I went a little crazy on my side. I made deviled eggs, caprese bites, watermelon salad, and veggies and hummus. I brought gluten-free baguettes and crackers (but the crackers didn't get touched). And I had that homemade lilac syrup for drinks.

I'm exhausted and sore from shopping and making food, but man, I feel good inside. My D&D family is back together, and it is healing my lonely heart. Let me leave you with the drink recipe we came up with for this evening that everyone loved:

1.5 oz gin

1 oz lemon juice

1 oz lilac simple syrup

--shake over ice; strain into glass

--top with mixed berry seltzer water (unsweetened); garnish with 2 blackberries (cut in half) and a mint leaf

Off and Running

Inspirational song: Gimme Three Steps (Lynyrd Skynyrd)

That kid is now a hundred percent toddler. She takes multiple unaided steps in a row, frequently throughout the day. Her mother even captured some on video this evening. We had the baby all day today, and we're too excited watching her, trying not to make a sound and distract her, and we miss videoing the steps. I'm trying to change my language now. Instead of asking her, when I'm holding her, "Has anyone told you you're the best baby lately?" I now ask, "Have I told you you're the best toddler?" I'm enjoying these few steps while I can. We have, what, six weeks tops (?) before we are wishing she would just sit down for one minute.

While the toddler was out sitting in her rocket car chair, watching grandpa work on landscaping, he clipped a few of the lilac blossoms and split them between us. He had me put some in water inside, and he let her play with a few little flower clusters. It inspired me to look up whether lilacs are edible, and it turns out they are. There are several things I can make with them, and it's entirely possible tomorrow will be an experiment with making lilac jelly. This afternoon I started simple--simple syrup, that is. I made it with lilac flowers and a small handful of last year's frozen raspberries. (The berries are mostly for color, as lilacs apparently turn yellow when steeped.) I strained the liquid, and will be using it tomorrow for mixed drinks, and I spread the flower and berry solids on a little gluten-free toast. Holy cow, that was good. I can't wait to do more cooking with lilacs.

Our entire D&D gaming group, all ten of us, are now vaccinated. Two have only had one shot, but we are to the point where everyone is ready to be back in person. We are meeting tomorrow on the neighbors' patio, around the beautiful big table he made right before we had to lock down and go remote. I will spend an hour or so on Pinterest in the morning, trying to come up with good hors d'oeuvres to contribute for the occasion. I'm so excited to be back around one table. I can barely contain myself. I wonder what finger foods convey a sufficiently celebratory vibe.

Dynamic Disability

Inspirational song: Close to You (The Carpenters)

The way I approach going out into the world has changed, hopefully for the better. I went out this morning and braved the DMV. The line was out the door again, for people who didn't have appointments, but because I was there for a disability accommodation, I was able to go right inside. The kind of ticket I got from the kiosk bumped me up in line even farther, and I was the first one called of the six or so people in the waiting area. I felt weird skipping ahead, but was relieved I would be out of there quickly. 

I was honest with the lady at the desk, that I had no idea what to do or expect. She was super nice and talked me through the process, including how renewals will work. And then I left there with two blue placards, one to keep in the car, and one for my purse when I'm a passenger in someone else's car. 

It is a big unknown, how I will adapt to having good parking. I don't always need it. That is, I don't need it every time I enter a store. But wow, I often need it by the time I leave. It will take an attitude adjustment to allow myself to use it, even on days I know I really, really need it. It's hard, knowing my disability isn't visible, and that it is highly variable. I dread someone challenging me when I use the parking, especially on a day when I'm utterly tired but trying to hide it. I suppose it is a weapon in my arsenal knowing that I will embarrass the fool out of anybody who accosts me about handicapped parking, by forcing them to listen as I tell them way more about my medical history than they are prepared to learn. Hm. Maybe I actually dare someone to try me. FA&FO, so to speak.

The Neverending Project

Inspirational song: Hey-Ya (Outkast)

Landscaping with a perfectionist is as difficult as you think it would be. Never, ever say, "Yeah, that looks good. Yay, it's done." That is guaranteed to make them reconsider and pull apart whatever they just accomplished. At least that is what happens around here. I made the mistake of saying how happy I was that the Mr made more progress on building the rock mound in the front yard, the one that was abandoned half-done last July, and sputtered this year while he battled the leaky sprinkler system. I even took pictures when I thought he was done for the day. Then he got T to come over to help move a giant rose quartz rock, and I thought that was it. Then he had to rearrange the rock ring a couple times over. I gave up and started picking weeds, assuming that it will change two or three more times before he fills in the planting spaces with dirt and flowers. At least I have confidence that heavy quartz isn't going anywhere soon.

I started my day early, waking to a series of texts from my friend who wanted to see a trio of houses as possible rental property replacements for the one we just sold for her. I was pleasantly surprised to nab morning appointments for all three, without any hassle. We encountered other realtors and buyers at two of the places. I kind of wish the other one had had people in it. Then the house might have aired out a little better. The stale cat pee smell was so overwhelming that we ended our showing in less than a minute. She just said nope, I'd have to rip out all that carpet and sand the baseboards and I'm not up for that. Amazingly, while I was eating dinner, I got an email from the stinky house, saying they had multiple offers, and if we wanted to try, then submit by tomorrow at three. No, thanks. And the other two were cute, but neither really spoke to her. Maybe next week something will jump out.

Legs

Inspirational song: These Boots Are Made for Walking (Nancy Sinatra)

We have steps! I repeat, we officially have steps! Just a few at a time, but these were real, hands-free, wobbly steps.

There was a surprise Grumping, with the kids dropping by with the baby right as it started to rain, letting me cuddle with my favorite toddler while they went up the block to feed a friend's cat. I set her on the rug, and let her hang on to one of my hands while she walked about halfway across the room. She saw my electronics on the end table, and let go of my hand. She steadied herself, and took three or four honest-to-god steps and grabbed the ottoman, without losing focus on the tablet and phone she wanted. I'm so happy. Now, a month from now, when I can't catch her and I collapse panting on the floor while she runs away giggling... I may be a little less happy.

The extra special massage was every bit as extra special as I had hoped. Although there was one disappointment, when my therapist had to decline to do the scalp and jaw part of the massage because of covid restrictions. He did good work on my neck instead, and the forearm and calf work was so relaxing. He was very gentle, because I came in with some pretty rotten knots. I wanted him to be more aggressive, but he cautioned that we should use this as a test case before we get too rough. After a whole year of paying for time but not using it, I have a lot of hours saved up. I will be burning an hour for just the forearm and calf work at least once more this year. Might be once a quarter. It was purely awesome.

Bees

Inspirational song: Eric the Half-a-Bee (Monty Python)

A question-slash-observation, particularly for people who live in my part of the country: have you seen a lot of bees so far this year? I haven't, and I'm wondering why that is. In all fairness, I haven't been out in the garden much this year, mostly on purpose (I've had other things to do that I saved energy for). But I come and go through the front often enough that I would expect to see bees in my lavender bushes or in the dandelions that until yesterday were plentiful in our yard. I saw a hornet or yellow jacket (wasn't planning on getting too close to determine which, because I was pretty sure it was a yellow jacket) today in the vegetable garden. A lot of our fruit plants flowered this year (all but the second cherry tree), but I can't for the life of me tell whether the pollinators have been at them. I hope they are out there, and I have just been oblivious.

I had a big plan to get out early today, in order to beat the line at the DMV to get my parking placard. When I arrived, there was absolutely no line. That was because the place is closed on Fridays. That figures. I guess I will try again on Monday.

I have little else of interest. I drank coffee in the middle of the afternoon, so now I'm up late surfing through YouTube, wishing I could sleep. Tomorrow morning is my epic massage that I have been threatening to schedule for about eight years. It's just one hour, not 90 minutes, and I will have him focus only on my legs from the knees down, arms from elbows down, and head, particularly scalp and jaw. I expect this to be the best thing ever. I also expect to feel like pudding afterwards. Now if I can make myself sleep before it is time to go.

Assist

Inspirational song: Trees (Rush)

Back when I was super active on Facebook, I made a photo album called A Boy and His Ladder. It was entirely dedicated to all the places my husband found to be up off the ground. You must understand, there were a lot of pictures there. He was always up doing something on a ladder: cutting down a Bradford pear, fixing our chimney, rescuing Jackie from trees, or painting the upper reaches of our cathedral-ceilinged living room. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. But I respect his eagerness to escape the bounds of the earth.

We had a brief visit with the kids tonight, just long enough for the Mr to help take down the tree in their backyard that has been dead since they bought the house a few years ago. The baby and I stayed inside and watched Clue the movie and chatted about nothing. She did a lot of unsupported standing, and took a step or two, but there had to be something she really wanted for her to let go for each step. Like her mother. Or chocolate. Or her mother holding chocolate. We were having such a good time, Grumpus and I, that I forgot to take any pictures of her. Trust me, she is still as cute as she was a few days ago. Maybe moreso.

Today was a milestone day for my disability mitigation. I saw my rheumatologist, and got her caught up with everything new in this past quarter. We discussed my status with the lung problems, and the new tests ordered by the pulmonologist. I told her I got a case manager assigned by my insurance provider, and in that context, I got the nerve to revisit something this doctor denied me a few years ago. I told her how the case manager is supportive of me getting a handicapped parking pass, as a way of increasing my ability to get out and do things. And this time, my rheumatologist agreed. In fact, she jumped on it and had the nurse bring me signed forms when they came to do my semi-annual blood draw. 

I'm still in shock that it was so easy. I have needed this a long time, and when it was a losing battle two years ago, I was super discouraged. But now that it is in my grasp, I don't quite know what to do with it. I'm going to be able to go places again! I still won't go anywhere that requires me to stand for hours, but I may be able to go someplace like Red Rocks amphitheater for the first time in years. (Standard parking is down along the road, and you have to hike up the mountain to get to it. Last time I tried, I had a stranger cheering me on the whole way up, like a track coach, else I would have given up and missed the show.) Before any of you think this is a sign of me giving up, getting a handicap parking placard, know that it is exactly the opposite. This is me finding a mobility aid that keeps me going. This is only positive. 

I hope to get the placard tomorrow. The forms are signed, but when I drove up to the DMV, there was a widely-spaced line that ran around the corner outside the office. It felt counterintuitive to stand in an hour long line for a placard that says I have trouble walking and standing. I will try to go early in the morning, in the hopes that the line will be shorter. I'll remember my cane so I have something to lean on too.

Story Recap

Inspirational song: Back In the New York Groove (Ace Frehley)

The Wednesday game group has shifted gears. The smallest group campaign is back on hold, and we are revisiting a storyline we last played just before Christmas of 2019. This is our mid-size game, with seven players, compared to five for the little one and nine for the big Thursday series. After a year and a half we needed a lot of catch-up time. We met online and just talked about what happened, in what order, and where we diverged from what we were supposed to do. (For example, we sort of adopted the big foe in a raid by bandits who was a character designed to be defeated and dispatched. The game master had to run him as a party member for weeks because we decided we liked the guy. And this doesn't begin to cover how hard we made it on the GM when we also adopted a puppy version of Cerberus, the three-headed hound who guards the gates of Hades.) At least two people in our group have lost their character sheets. Three of them turned up in our basement, including mine, but my daughter and son-in-law may need to dig through the debris down there for their info. One of our members referred to our basement as a "pre-pandemic time capsule." He's not wrong.

I mostly rested today, as I threatened to do. I did pick up the main floor a little bit, but I moved very slowly and gently, so as not to hurt or over stress anything. It appears to have worked. I'm feeling pretty decent, all things considered. I might even be doing better than half our group from tonight, where we had one person out completely feeling yucky, and two more stretched to the limit from the busy last week. My body is just lulling me into a false sense of security, isn't it? Heaven help me if I fall for it.

We got some good videos of the baby, to tide us over until we get to be with her again. There is nothing "infant" about her anymore. She is a fully evolved toddler now, and that just fascinates me. I wish I could read her mind. I bet there is a lot of data whizzing about in there these days.

Back to Normal

Inspirational song: Get Back (The Beatles)

Both of Valerie's out of town grandmas have now gone home. She is back down to one grandma to play with. Gee, I hope I can keep up. Just in time for her birthday, she started toddling forward now up to three unsupported steps (in front of the other grandma, not me). She also dramatically increased the complexity of her babble this weekend. I wonder whether she felt pressure to accomplish a bunch of things for her first birthday. Regardless, she did.

As for my own mother's visit, I think this was a very good thing. She hasn't been here since my cancer surgery two years ago, and I'm glad to have her here when she didn't have anything in particular to worry about. She wasn't here to take care of an invalid. She was here just to be part of the celebration. Now she knows directly just how cute the baby is and how silly the puppy is.

It started to rain just as we arrived at the airport this morning. I got mom dropped off with an airline employee who helped her through the process of check in and acquiring transportation through the airport (to make things a bit easier on her). I hoped the weather wouldn't delay her out of Denver. I should have worried more about her connection in Dallas. This time of year is brutal to travel through DFW. Storms roll across Texas and shut down a giant hub airport on the regular. It blows my mind. I once spent the night on the floor in DFW, when they ran out of hotel vouchers and then ran out of cots for all of us stranded travelers. I slept underneath a row of seats, with my head on my suitcase and purse, waking every few minutes. Thankfully my mother didn't have to spend that long at DFW. She made it home about three hours past her original arrival schedule, but had to do a lot of gate switching to finally escape from Texas.

I plan on doing basically nothing tomorrow. And I mean nothing. If I wash a dish or vacuum a single square foot of rug, I will cheer about it and then sit down and treat myself to a rest. It was great having company, but it is also great having quiet time again.

Birthday Girl

Inspirational song: One (A Chorus Line)

How weird is it that we have had the best year imaginable, tucked inside the worst year most of the world has seen in decades? For as hard as it was being part of the wider global community during a deadly pandemic, it has been nothing but rainbows and sparkles being a part of the very elite club of Valerie's family and friends. Our whole world is better now that this baby is in it, and celebrating her first birthday today feels like it should be a major holiday.

We started with brunch at the restaurant where we take our out of town guests to for breakfast (whenever possible). Baby had a great time playing at the table, trying all the foods. She destroyed a biscuit (and I mean smashed up and threw on the floor, not the more colloquial meaning of eating heartily), she enjoyed grits, and she freaked out when the cinnamon oil in spice tea hit her taste buds. She needed to take a swig off of her bottle after that last one.

After the restaurant, we split up so that I could grab supplies to make her cake and the kids could get set up at the house (and wash off all that glutinous residue off the baby so i could hold her again). When we reconvened later, it was present time. Her auntie had individually wrapped each of the cute clothes she bought, in case Val was really into tearing the paper. All of auntie's choices were well-received, with all of us admiring the bright colors and stylish cuts of the clothes. Grandma the Great presented a hand-made Italian sweater that baby will need to grow into. And there were puppets and big toys and other fun stuff for baby.

We made a small cake for her to eat on her own. She was more interested in the strawberries and whipped cream than in the actual cake, not that I blame her. 

Both out of town grandmas are heading home tomorrow. I know they enjoyed their visit, and it appears Val loved it too. A great time was had by all.