A Sunday miscellany

The first thing I do in the morning is check my email on my phone—even before I brush my teeth, make my tea, and put away last night’s dishes. This morning, there was no email in either of my accounts. That never happens, so I checked the phone—no Wifi connection. If my computer still worked, that wouldn’t be a problem. So by-passing teeth and tea, I booted the computer. No connection. This upset me because I am totally incommunicado (or so I thought—Christian told me tonight I could still have used the phone, which I didn’t realize). It worries me because I fear falling, as so many my age do, and not being able to either get up or call for help.

So, this morning, I wanted some way to tell Jordan I needed help reconnecting the router. I put SOS on a piece of paper and taped it to the window by my desk. But then I saw her come out with the dogs, so I called to her. She was one minute out of bed, not inclined to deal with a problem she didn’t understand, and not amused by my sign. Her advice: Read a book. After she disappeared, I thought if I could call her back, I’d ask for her phone and call Colin. But I had no way of doing that—or so I thought.

After about fifteen minutes, the connection was magically restored. Well, not magic at all. Apparently, there’s a wire that goes under the sill at the back door, and if you step just right, it cuts the connection. Go back and step again, and it restarts it. Makes me a bit nervous, and I think an electrician should be called. Meantime, I guess the answer is for me to just call and say, “Please go step on the back door sill.” It’s kind of like the mornings my TV tells me there are too many TVs on. I have to call and ask them to turn one off, so mine will turn on. Somehow in this day of modern technology, I don’t think we should be having these problems.

Connection restored and computer up and running, I went to church online this morning. The sermon was about disagreement—I won’t quote text, but essentially the message I got was that even people of the same faith can see things differently. Russ used the example of two people reading the same book and coming away with such vastly different interpretations that it’s a wonder they read the same book. We each see things through the filter not only of our faith but of our life experiences. The final message I got--see how tentative I’m being here because someone else may have gotten a totally different message—is that it’s okay to disagree because we are all children of God and he loves all of us.

That’s a message I hear frequently from the pulpit at University Christian Church, and each time I hear it a mental picture of Donald trump flashes into my mind, and I want to question, “Really?” I know the Milton theology (better than biblical unfortunately) about angels turning away from God, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that God loves a man so obviously corrupt, selfish, dishonest—well, you name the adjectives. According to Milton, God never creates fallen angels—they are the ones that turn away from God.

Sometimes there are reassuring signs that evil is not rampant in our world, and we certainly saw one from Martha’s Vineyard in the last few days. The way that community turned out to care for the sudden, unannounced arrival of migrants was nothing short of a miracle and certainly proof that there are a lot of good people in this world. The migrants now have been moved to a military facility on the mainland that has been used before to house people suddenly in need of shelter. Tucker Carlson says that transporting the migrants from the island just demonstrates the hypocrisy of liberals who really don’t want to have to deal with people in need. Makes me so angry, because he’s supposed to be a journalist. If he were worth half a penny, he’d know that the Martha’s Vineyard community simply didn’t have the facilities to help so many immigrants for more than an overnight stay.

Meantime, in my mind—your filter may be different—I think DeSantis lost this one bigtime and came off looking not only inhumane but a bit stupid in his misunderstanding of immigration policies past and present. He joins Gregg Abbott and apparently Ducey of Arizona.

There are good people in our world. May their numbers increase, and may karma strike some of the others, even if God loves them. As I write this, I’m hearing in my mind the ritual response to the Scripture reading in my church: “Thanks be to God.” Others may have a different filter, and that’s okay. We’re still friends.

The Joy of Old Friends

October 5, 2016

….and the trauma of a doctor’s visit. Today I had both those pleasures. I had an afternoon appointment with a gastroenterologist to get to the cause of my ongoing GI problems. Yes, I was nervous about it. The doctor is an old friend who has treated me previously; we have friends in common, and he reminded me that he treated my oldest child and diagnosed his Crohn’s disease. So the appointment should have been a piece of cake, and in many ways it was because I felt at ease to talk with him. But there is no easy solution—he recommended a two-week trial period of lactose restriction, ordered blood work, and told me to come back in three weeks. A step in the right direction.

During his exam, I panicked because I was on a narrow table and was sure I was going to fall off—in fact I thought I was falling. He and the nurse kept assuring me they had me, but I wasn’t convinced. Realized that my fear of falling is strong, and I have to get over it if I’m to be fully mobile again. Kind and gentle as he was, the experience made me feel wrung out and exhausted.

And the no dairy news was not good for me. I used to live on cottage cheese, still eat a lot of it and yogurt and cheese. I had prepared an appetizer array for my guests but realized I couldn’t eat any of it—pimiento cheese, roast salmon with herbed cream cheese, assorted veggies which aren’t yet on my “can’t have” list but the doctor warned against them

I’ve known Bill and Sharon well over forty years, and they came to see my new digs tonight. We had a wonderful visit—lots of laughter. We talked about their kids, my kids, our Chicago trip. They had brought a cold supper—a Mediterranean salad with roasted vegetables and salmon. But we ate so much appetizers, we weren’t hungry—I tasted the eggplant and squash but passed on the tomato and mozzarella. They left, repeating how pleased they were for me, how impressed with my cottage.

It’s a nice night to be cozy in the cottage, and I’m ready to tuck myself in. Sweet dreams, everyone.

Walking on eggshells

This morning I would no more have wanted to walk Jacob across the street to school than I would have wanted to fly. We had thunder snow during the night--a bolt of lightning woke me just as my furnace kicked on, and in my daze I thought, "The furnace has exploded." But the flash of light was soon followed by thunder. When I got up and looked out, the ground was white, though the streets and sidealks were merely wet. Still it looked like there were patches of ice here and there. Because I'm a worrier and because I'm terrified of falling, I began to worry about getting Jacob at three. Of course, by then, the streets were dry and it was fine--though darned cold.
It was a perfect day to be a recluse, and I stayed in all day. Did my yoga and got a lot down on the manuscript I'm editing. Had a pimiento cheese sandwich for lunch--yum!--and a good nap, and then it was time to get Jacob. We did all his homework--math exercise, reading, essay in response to the book, a pre-test for spelling, and alphabetized his spelling words. Bless him, he'd look at me occasionally and say, "Are we having a good day so far?" I assured him we were. (We didn't have a good day yesterday because he wouldn't focus, and I grew impatient--we both vowed today to change our ways!)
Tonight it was tempting to stay inside with the fire in the fireplace, but I also liked the idea of company, so I went to meet neighbors at the Grill and have my meatloaf fix. Cold coming home, and I dreaded the walk down the dark driveway--motion sensitive lights but there's a gap and a time limit. And I did what I know better than to do--I faltered, and once my confident stride was broken, I was a mess. I ended up taking the funniest route to the house you can imagine--holding on to the fence, then hobbling across the drive to a tree and then the side of the house until the lights kicked in.
I know that about walking and anxiety. If I lose my confidence, if I break my stride, anxiety kicks in, and I feel that I cannot take another step. But if I keep walking confidently, I'm fine. I'm glad no one saw me scramble tonight, and yet I've learned to tell myself that I did okay. I made it into the house. Elizabeth did not find me lying in the driveway when she came home.
Almost everyone feels anxiety, but for some of us it can have disabling effects. Mine takes the form of this fear of walking and falling. Those who don't know say "It's all in your head." Yes, it is, but it's very real, and the numbers of people in this country who suffer from anxiety to a disabling degree would astonish many.
Most days I do just fine. I've learned to deal with it. But it does come creeping up to bite me, and tonight was one of those times. I'll just have to keep walking down that dark driveway, with confidence--and a walking stick. If that's the worst of my burdens, I am blessed indeed.