Finally exasperated

Okay, friends and neighbors. I have reached the breaking point. I’m going to do something I vowed I would never do. I’m going to block or unfriend some people on Facebook over politics. I had hoped for reasonable discussion, but it’s not there.

I am tired to death of statistics when talking about police brutality. One death of an unarmed black boy is one too many, and statistics will never convince me otherwise. When I mention the Chicago policeman who fired I think 14 times into a boy already down and writhing in the streets, statistics don’t matter a darn. We have a police brutality problem. The majority of officers are dedicated to doing their duty, dispensing justice fairly, but we have too many who are rogue, whose sense of power is inflated by the badge and the gun.

When a Supreme Court nominee turns in obvious horror from the father of a Parkland murder victim, I do not want to hear that it is was the wrong time, the wrong place. How good would your judgment be if you lost a child to random gun violence? It was a moment for compassion, not one to recoil as though a leper tried to touch him.

I am tired of people who make sweeping generalizations (All Democrats are anarchists) without any knowledge or basis of fact. Don’t they read newspapers, watch anything but Fox? .Do they really believe Beto is a thug and a punk rocker?

I am tired of people who can support trump in spite of the atrocities of his administration, the corruption, the obvious incompetence.

I watched a clip of Beto on the Ellen Show today—he praised her for representing the qualities he wants in America; kindness and joy, caring for others. I too want those things. I don’t want to live in a country ruled by old white men without hearts or souls, without an ounce of compassion.

These things I am not: burning for open borders for our country—what an idiotic accusation, and yet its been flung my way. We need immigration control, and everyone recognizes it. It’s just that we need a reasonable system that is not based on race, creed or quotas. I don’t want to abolish ICE—some branches do good work. I do want to curb and perhaps abolish the branch that deports people willynilly, whether they’re guilty or not, and tears families apart, locks children in cages. I don’t want to murder small children, but I do want to let women decide what to do with their own bodies, not that same bunch of old white men. I want to do away with whatever authority allows banks to freeze people’s accounts until they prove their citizenship.

Peace, my friends, and go about your lives with joy and kindness. I’m still going to speak out. I just won’t hear some voices—and they won’t hear mine. Just as well.

I have become a statistic

As many of you know, I fell in late April/early May and although I didn’t realize it at the time, I broke both bones in my lower right leg, almost in the ankle. Walking on it for two weeks did not help healing, and an orthopedic surgeon pronounced it beyond repair. I am now wearing an orthopedic boot night and day, which is a real pain but if it keeps me out of surgery, I’m grateful to do it and wheel around on the walker (you’re not supposed to do that). Getting me out of the house in a transport chair is difficult for all involved, including me—but it can be done. I am officially handicapped and have the benefit of the Medicare Home Health program. I cannot put any weight on my right foot for the foreseeable future.

At first I thought this was the event that would turn me into an old woman, but I don’t feel that way anymore. Depression has been replaced by an optimistic kind of acceptance, and I remain in good spirit most of the time. Frustrated, though, by all the things I can’t do—reach up in a cabinet, fix my meals (unless someone has already prepared food), make my bed, etc. Washing my hair is an exercise in ingenuity—I balance on one foot, holding on to the sink with one hand and lathering with the other.

In spite of all, I fell again last week when visiting my son in Tomball. In my own defense it was dark and my eyes hadn’t adjusted. I thought I lined my walker up with the edge of the bed, but in truth I had them at an angle—and the bed simply wasn’t where I thought it should be. I ended on the floor, whacking the side of my head. Had a huge shiner the next day—looked like a painted eye patch. Then it began to heal—draining into my cheek and neck. I’d post a picture but I don’t want any of you to see me looking like that. Jordan and Jacob have taken to warning visitors before they see me.

All this means that I am a statistic:

1 of three seniors fall each year

1 of five sustain serious injury, usually fractured hip or head trauma

700,000 are hospitalized

250,000 break a hip, which is often the end to good health.

Deaths from falls have dramatically increased since 2004 and now stand at 58 per 100,000 people

Many seniors become so afraid of falling that they cut down on activities, thereby growing weaker and more prone to falling.

What factors can you work on to avoid falling?

Exercise to strengthen lower body

Take plenty of Vitamin D

Exercise to improve balance

Check meds—do they make you sleepy, dizzy, unsure of your footing?

Check your vision

If you suffer from foot pain or wear inappropriate shoes, you’re more likely to fall.

Home hazards include throw rugs, broken stairs, stairs without handrails.

Listen up my fellow senior citizens and be very careful but do live your life and enjoy it!