Life mysteries-Part 2

As 2011 draws to a close tomorrow evening, I'm still left with a couple of life's mysteries yet to solve.  Since I have been working on them for several weeks now, not sure if that is going to be happening or not.  Guess time will tell.  


Those of you who have followed this blog from the beginning will remember the summer day in mid-June that I received an anonymous letter from a "friend" encouraging me to sign up for private adult swimming lessons at the local YMCA.  This unknown friend even went so far as to include an application for the lessons.  At the top of the application was the handwritten message, "Bucket List item #4-YOU CAN DO IT!"  So between the sender of this anonymous message and the insistence of my dear friend who felt like I needed to learn how to swim well enough to save my own life some day, well, I had no choice but to go to the YMCA and sign up.  What I didn't count on, when I made the half mile journey over to the local Y, was meeting this wonderful woman, shown below, who would end up becoming a new friend.  

Meet Cleta Ellington, front desk receptionist for the YMCA branch here in Hutchinson.  As far as I'm concerned, she has GOT to hold the title for "world's best secret keeper."  Turns out what ever unknown friend sent me the application went through Cleta and swore her to the utmost of secrecy.  On that first day we met, I intended to ask her who the person was who had sent it.  I no more than got the word "Who?" out before she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Don't even bother asking. I'm not telling."  After my first set of 4 lessons were done in early July, I figured she'd "cave in" and tell me.   Nothing doing...she suddenly had this case of selective amnesia.  So today, over 6 months later I figured sure she would tell me this time...nothing doing!  And by the way, I even offered money this time.   So whoever you are, rest most assured that your secret is safe with Cleta because she 'aint' saying nothing!  


I stopped in at the YMCA this morning to take Cleta a diet Coke as part of Bucket List item #5, "to buy all of my FB friends a drink and talk about life".  Cleta, if I ever need to give a secret to anyone, it's a "no-brainer" who I'm looking up!


The other mystery that remains unsolved is the issue of where on earth the name "Eleanor" came from.  You might remember that after receiving the gift of bone from an unknown donor during "old lefty's" surgery in August, the name Eleanor popped into my head.  I felt so strongly that the name Eleanor had something to do with whoever it was.  I figured sure that my donor was a woman with that name.  When I learned a few weeks back that it was a 45-year old man from Missouri who was my donor, then I immediately began looking at names of Missouri counties or towns called Eleanor....maybe it was a street or something.  Once again, I came up with no definitive answer.  Really guys, I was ready to give up....that is until my sister arrived here from Oklahoma this afternoon.


 Out of the blue she said to me, "Peggy, did you know that the origin of the name Eleanor can refer to life?"  For crying out loud, why hadn't I thought about the possibility that the name that popped into my head that day in the recovery room didn't necessarily have to refer to a specific person, street, or town?  It didn't take long to learn even more about the assigned meanings of that name.


From the Greek language, derived from the word eleos, meaning compassion and from the Latin language, derived from the word lenire, meaning to soothe and heal.......that's what my Eleanor means.  From a man in Missouri to a woman in Kansas, the gift of "life", given and accepted with great "compassion" with the sole purpose of  "soothing and healing" a terribly broken arm.  You know, I'm thinking pretty sure that's a good enough explanation for me....what more could I possibly need to know?  Good night everyone!  Sweet dreams and good sleep to all.

Saying good-bye to 2011

At the time of this posting, the year 2011 is less than 72 hours from officially becoming "last year".  As for me, I believe I can honestly refer to it as the very best year I've ever had.  Yeah, yeah, yeah I know what you are thinking but really guys, I've been blessed beyond measure this year and for that I am ever thankful.  So much has happened to me...much of it wonderful, some not so much.


I got to fulfill a dream of going on the "Bike Across Kansas" in June and believe me, I've been trying to do that for years now.  My ride ended at the McPherson County line but who cares?  Heat stroke and dehydration took me out this time but there will be another time.

I made a new friend who, when finding out that I couldn't swim, encouraged me to get back in the water and at the very least, learn how to swim well enough to save my own life someday.  With his encouragement and wise advice, I got over my fear of the water and this former "hydrophobic" re-entered the water for the first time since 1965.  And the greatest blessing was becoming good friends with a wonderful guy who is now my dear friend.

For the first time since "forever", my 4 surviving siblings and I were able to be together.  We had a great family reunion back in our hometown of Haven, Kansas.  Lots of stories about growing up were told and re-told.  I noticed that some of our stories were being "embellished" in many ways but you know, so what?  It was fun to laugh hard enough to cry and for those memories I'm so very glad.

The Lord blessed me with being able to spend a lot of time with Ricky, Grahame, and Ursela.  This mom's heart is filled to the brim with love for those 3 children.  I'm proud of them and happy that despite the times I would not have been a good candidate for "Mother of the Year" they made it any way and still loved me!

I was able to continue doing a job that I have loved now for nearly 35 years.  I'm a teacher, fortunate enough to work with a fine staff of folks at Lincoln Elementary.  Each day we have the chance to make a difference in children's lives and as I've said so many times before, I have learned more from them than they sometimes have learned from me.  

I became friends with new people and reacquainted myself with friends from the "land of long ago and very far away."  What a gift to have good friends who help you, encourage you, pick up the slack for you when life seems pretty impossible.  I am here to attest to you that without my friends, 2011 would have been a most difficult time in my life.  Thank you for the gift of friends.

I had a "once in a lifetime" chance to see the most beautiful sunrise in the whole world on July 16th when I watched that brilliant orb rise in the Kansas summer sky from a vantage point on Eales Road, south of Hutchinson.  One moment in time forever sealed in my heart.

And perhaps the best thing that happened to me this year was my bicycle accident of August 4th.  God sent me a "wake up" call that late summer morning and despite all the pain and misery the last 5 months of 2011 have brought me, I say to you all that I'm a much better person because of it.  No longer will I take this life for granted.  Its fragility was made most apparent to me and I was the recipient of a "do over" in the form of the gift of a bone from someone who chose to make a difference even long after they were gone from this earth.

My prayer for you dear friends, for all of us, is that 2012 will be a year filled with blessings, peace, hope and joy.  I surely am glad to call you my friends...thanks for sticking by me..I owe you all one!  :)

Coincidence?, Nah

Friends-NEVER ceases to amaze me how it seems that everything happens for a reason, how total strangers can connect at just the right time according to "the plan".  By the way, just for the record,  I no longer believe in the idea of coincidence.


Today was the day to travel to the Bicycle Peddler in Wichita to pick up my bike.  After a nearly 2-month wait for a new carbon fork to come in (due to a mass recall notice on Specialized bikes), my bike was fixed and ready to go.  Even though I won't be taking it out on the street until early April, I have been anxious to get it back to Hutch and on the wind trainer at my house.  Before I went to pick it up, my oldest son (Ricky) and I stopped for breakfast at The Good Egg and that's where the strangest thing happened.  


It's a little hard to hide the fact that I'm sporting one big old long-arm cast, so when we were being seated, I wasn't surprised that our server would make a comment.  But it wasn't THAT he said anything, but rather what the first words out of his mouth were.."Wow, looks bad.  You shattered your radius didn't you?"  The look of shock on my face must have been evident.  How in the heck did this guy know that much about me in the first 60 seconds of our meeting one another?


Well, when my mouth stopped dropping open and I found the words to answer him, I gave him the "Reader's Digest" condensed version of the saga of "old lefty" and when I was finished,with a huge grin on his face, he told me his story. 


 Just when I thought I was the ONLY one on earth who could do such damage to an arm, I was now standing face-to-face with a guy who nearly verbatim did the same thing I did but only on a skateboard.  His "old-lefty" was in the exact same shape as mine, just one year ago.  Heck we even have matching scars and hardware inside of us.  The only difference was that he ended up not needing a bone graft like I did.


Meeting that young man, a total stranger in a place that we only at the last minute decided to go to for breakfast, was a "part of the plan" in my getting better today.  He encouraged me and reminded me that it has taken the better part of a year or more for him to get better and that I too will be pretty much back to normal in time.  You know, I couldn't help but to feel better after visiting with him for those moments this morning.  


Friends, is there someone out there you know who could use a few words of hope and good cheer this day?  That young man found me and my day was made 10 times brighter because he cared enough to tell his own story to me.  Whoever he is, Peggy "my new middle name is ironic" Miller says "Thanks!"

"old-lefty's" new powder blue long-arm cast and the bike's new carbon fiber fork-Come April 1st we'll be back together once more.

"Old Lefty" who used to be normal

You know, I'm pretty sure that I'll never forget the day that as a 13-year old I brought home my first purchase of make up ever.  Never mind that I had absolutely no clue as to how I should put it on.  Every OTHER girl in the whole United States of America was wearing it so why shouldn't I?  I'll always remember the comment my dad made to me as I emptied out that sack from the "health and beauty" section of Grier's Pharmacy.  


Daddy said to me in a calm and reassuring voice, "Peggy Ann, you don't need to be wearing make up.  You are pretty enough without it."  And you know what?  I believed him and if my memory serves me correctly, I never even opened up that stuff.  That's why today, 43 years later, I never have to worry about people catching me without my make up on because I've never worn it.  What you see is what I am.  I'm thinking that I owe my dad a word of thanks~can you see me trying to put that stuff on now given "old lefty's" current predicament?  Funny what we remember.


I have learned many lessons about vanity in my life with several of them being taught to me since August 4th.  One of the greatest lessons I have learned is that it doesn't matter if you are able to ride your bike halfway across the state of Kansas in the hot and humid days of early June or if on an August morning your bike odometer reads 1,500 miles in the last 5 months of riding.  I was proud, overly proud of being a darn good bicyclist who would be willing to try to take on most anyone on the bike trail.  I received my "come uppance" in my own front yard, brought down by an unforgiving section of curbing.  It would appear that I'm not the "hotshot" rider that I thought I was.  LOL  Let me tell you, the price I paid to learn that little lesson was pretty steep!


Another lesson in how vain I can at times become happened today as I sat in Dr. Chan's office at  the Kansas Orthopaedic Center.  One of his assistants had the task of removing the surgical splint that protected "old lefty" since surgery two weeks ago as well as remove the thousands (ok maybe just 20) of stitches in my arm and hand.  It would be my first look at my arm since Dec. 15th.  Here's the photo of what I saw.  I knew that it wouldn't look good...I just hoped it might look a little bit better.  By the way, don't be too squeamish.  If you could stand to look at the external fixator device that was used initially, then looking at this photo should be a breeze.

This is the side where "the bump" used to be.  The incision is where they went in to remove the section of the ulna bone as well.  Just for good measure, they inserted a screw that, by my x-ray, looks big and strong enough to hold a section of outdoor decking together.  Just sayin'.  The pin remains in place for the next 3 weeks but the other hardware (plate and screw) remains in place for the rest of my life.  


Dr. Chan also did a carpal tunnel release in the hopes I might get back some of the sensation I'm missing.  Time will tell but for right now, there is such massive swelling still going on that my fingers still feel asleep.  The photo below shows that part of this.

Hey, believe it or not, in all of the procedures that have been done to me, this little 3 inch run of stitches bothered me the worst.  Sure was glad to have these out today...much better now.  That long scar from the original surgery that Dr. Chan did is fading now as are the others.  Looks a lot better.  (oh, there's that vanity thing again  :)


I had some time alone in his office as I waited for the cast to be put on.  I looked at poor "old lefty" and still, 5 months later, couldn't believe all I had put my arm through.  Good thing there was no one else in there or else they would have seen a tear roll down my face in sorrow for what there was left ahead for me to endure.  I found myself rubbing the place where "Eleanor" now was and whispering a quiet prayer of apology to "old lefty" for what it had to go through....and I asked God to take me through whatever lies ahead.  


Vainly, I worried about the stark difference between my two arms now.  "Old lefty" who USED to be normal in appearance is now a withered, shrunken and much older looking version of its former self.  With my hands side by side, their dissimilarity is quite obvious.  I wondered, for just a brief moment, what people would think of that?  Would they accept it as the way it was going to have to be?  Would their uncomfortable stares make me feel even worse?  


This time, God didn't whack me upside with the message.  Instead, He whispered quietly in my ear and the message I got was this..."Peggy, you don't need to worry about what people think about you on the outside.  The inside, that's what really counts."  And you know what, I believe Him.

                                                   Cast #6-December 27, 2011


A last word of thanks to my dear friend, Heidi.  She messaged me with words of encouragement as I was typing this blog post.  She ended it with a quote that she loved and felt most appropriate given my current situation.  Dear friend, your words of cheer could not have come at a better time.  I needed to hear them.


"In the midst of winter, I found within me there was an invincible summer!"

Between a rock and a hard place

My Christmas gift from my son Grahame yesterday...the story of the 7 day ordeal of Aron Ralston, a young hiker who became trapped while in Blue John Canyon, Utah when a boulder came loose and pinned his right arm against the canyon wall.  After days of desperation, struggling to free himself and figuring to die, Aron does the unthinkable and amputates his own arm to free himself.  His story of survival is so unbelievable  and if you've never read it before, this book comes highly recommended by me.  Geesch, and I think "old lefty" has it bad!  At least the last time I looked, she was still attached.  

When I looked at the calendar just now and counted "my time" (always sounds like a prison sentence or something), it will be nearly 30 weeks from the time of my accident until hopefully Dr. Chan says I'm in the clear, as good as I will ever be.  In the beginning, I used to think the recuperation from my ordeal would be the longest, most drawn-out time of my life.  After reading Aron's story, I realize that my "30 week sentence" is like a proverbial "walk in the park" compared to what he had to endure in just 7 short days.  I need these reminders from time to time, heck we ALL do, to remember even during life's worst times, just how fortunate we really are.  

Oh, by the way, Aron doesn't know it, but he's inspired me to try something new that I want to accomplish as soon as "old lefty" is in the clear.  It actually sounds fun and exciting to do and there's ABSOLUTELY no curbs involved.  And put your worried minds at ease, it has nothing to do with perhaps ending up having to amputate my own arm, probably.  Feel better already, don't you?  Have a great Monday my friends!

Of bone and heart | The Hutchinson News:

Of bone and heart | The Hutchinson News:


Friends, if you haven't read the post previous to this one, please read it first to give a bit of an explanation to this story.  Then, just click on the link above and it will take you directly to the story in the Hutchinson News today.   After reading it, if you are so inclined, please forward this on to someone who might be interested in learning more about becoming an organ/tissue donor upon their death.

God bless you Kathy Hanks for telling the story of "the gift" from Missouri to Kansas and just how powerfully valuable one segment of human bone can be.  May the sharing of what happened to me that August day help to bring even more awareness to the cause of organ and tissue donation.

And to my donor, a wonderful man unknown to me by name....Dear friend, This time it's "Peggy Miller's turn" ~ I've got YOU covered. There is a place within my heart where you now live.  You not only saved "Old Lefty", you saved me too!  From that point on, it was NEVER going to be the same again.  And by the way, THAT is a good thing!  :)

Keeping my promise

The "Miller Bucket List" has been written and re-written 7 times in all, beginning with a modest "50 Things To Do Before I Turn 51" (inspired on the occasion of my 50th birthday, which, by the way is looking pretty dang good right about now) to the 6 other revisions of the original one from this blog that was begun in mid-May of 2011.  The entries on each one of them were written with the best of intentions to follow through, but circumstances in life change and what looked like the most worthwhile and doable idea at the time, well, you know it's "not so much" now.

 Some thoughts have needed to be put on the proverbial "back burner" for awhile. For instance, I can't wait to learn how to sew something for the first time in my life and lucky for me, I've already got a teacher.  The weird thing is (and remember my middle name is now "ironic") my sewing teacher was once a first grade student of mine...a cute little red-haired girl named Amy.   But even with as little as I know about sewing, it doesn't take much common sense to figure out you kinda need two good hands to work with, so that particular bucket list dream has to wait until spring.

Here's what the 7th revision looks like now and believe me, given my recent uncanny luck which is now a "bosom buddy" to "Murphy's Law", these things are subject to change at a moment's notice.....

1. to travel to Maine and see my very first lighthouse (in the planning stages for June 1-15, 2012)
2. to power parachute once again (because of "old lefty's" current status, it will be put off until springtime)
3. to continue to reconnect with all of my family members, spread out across the U.S.  (gotta lose that fear of flying!)
4. to bid on a quilt (and buy!) at the Mennonite Relief Sale this April
5. to return for the 3 remaining swimming lessons of the "Guppy" Level (soon as the cast is off in March)
6. to continue to learn about and practice the concept of "travelling light" (actually for a very good reason, more later on)
7. to continue meeting all of my FB friends in person, buying them something to drink and talk about life
8. to canoe down the Ark River one more time on a beautiful Indian summer day in October
9. to continue to promote the understanding of and the need for organ and tissue donation and as for myself, to a help a  complete stranger for the "good" by committing to become an organ and tissue donor upon my death
10.to FINALLY learn to sew something
11.and because I love life-to never let my bucket go empty!

And now on to the "keeping my promise" part......

In tomorrow's (Dec. 26th) issue of the Hutchinson News, a featured story will be one that was written about my accident in early August.  It will describe "old lefty's" journey down the road to recovery towards a "new kind of normal" and most important of all, the gift of a new bone from the body of a 45-year old man from Missouri who "died with his eyes shut but with a heart that was still wide-open."  I get goose bumps and still "choke up" every time I think of him.

Guys, I knew very little (although I thought I knew everything) about the subject of transplants.  I found out how ignorant I was as I listened in disbelief that "old lefty" had been repaired, thanks in a  very huge part, to the sacrifice made by an unknown person.

 When I had thought of transplants before it was always in terms of major organs like the heart, lungs, and kidneys.  Now I know about the many "other" possibilities for donation among which are the skin, tendons and bones.  And so I have to think, how many other people are just like me and don't realize the tremendous ways to help others at the time of our passing?  The possibilities are endless, mind-boggling, and most importantly, life and limb saving..

I have never asked anyone to forward things before, but this time I want to make an exception.  If you would be so inclined, may I ask you to forward this post on to someone you know who might be interested in learning more about the subject of organ and tissue donation?  As I've said so many times before, deciding to become a donor is such a very personal decision and it isn't always for everyone.  Even forwarding this post on to someone else is an equally personal decision.  I will always have respect for an answer of "no".  If you do forward this on, all you need to do is click on the bottom of the link for email.  I also will make a second post pertaining to this from the Hutch News website as soon as the story goes online tonight, for anyone who might care to read it and then forward it on.

Statistics retrieved this evening from the organdonor.gov website pretty much tell the story. As of the time you read this blog post there will be more than 112,788 people in the U.S. waiting to receive an organ transplant and sadly each day 18 people will die while they are waiting.  Even members of the "I Hate Math" club, like me, can figure out the overwhelming odds those people must be facing.  When you have no other choice but to wait...well, then that's what you have to do.

Friends, my thanks to you for reading this and perhaps forwarding it on to another.  As grateful as I am for receiving a segment of another person's bone, I cannot even fathom what it would be like to receive a new heart, lungs,or kidneys.  May I never have to go through that ordeal and equally important, may you my dearest of friends never have to either.  I love each one of you and would like to see you around for a long time to come.

John 15:13 from the Good Book~
"No greater love hath a man than this, that he would lay down his life for a friend."

Kenny Rogers: Twenty Years Ago (video)

For all of the people in my hometown of Haven, Kansas who reached out and saved us-December 24, 1976....now 20 years +15 more years ago. Our family never forgot you or what you did for us.

I was blessed to call it "home" nearly 25 years.

"trial by fire", learning the hard way how to travel light

Ok, before I begin, a fast "progress monitor" on my "do-over" of the homework assignment from yesterday's blog post.  From my living room, the 5 things I'd HATE to part with-my collection of  books written by my favorite author of all time, Garrison Keillor.  His writing style renewed my interest in recreational reading about 15 years ago.  The 5 things I COULD do without-5 books by authors Charles Kuralt and Tom Brokaw.  Realizing now that I bought them on the spur of the moment and was attracted to purchasing them in part due to the colorful book jackets they wore and were so "on sale" that they were almost given away.  Honestly friends, I never even cracked them open...not once.  They are free for the taking if you want them.  Now on to this idea of trial by fire and having to learn the very hard way of how to travel light.  


In my family there were lots of memorable dates that came and went.  Some of them marked the "good times" and others, well they marked times we all wish would never have happened.  One of those dates that we'd probably never thought would bring the "life changing" event that it did was December 24th, 1976~Christmas Eve.


On December 24th of that year I was a "newly wed" having been only married a month.  Rick and I were living in a mobile home at the edge of my hometown of Haven, Ks.  It had been fun to get ready for that first Christmas together and when we fell asleep late on the evening of December 23rd, our preparations were complete.


Three miles south of town, in a newly painted two-story farmhouse, my family was sleeping as well.   Mom and Dad in their room with my little 7-year old niece Kimberly asleep in her own bed between theirs.  Upstairs was my brother Dick in his room and my sister Sherry, her husband Wes, and their 3-year old daughter, Brandy asleep in my bedroom, only vacated by me the month before.


The traditional Scott family Christmas tree, cut down from the pasture only days before, was decorated and standing in the southeast corner of the living room, wrapped presents piled underneath it.  The fireplace had only a few hot coals left burning....all would appear was well.


In the early morning hours we heard it....noise and yelling outside.  Well, you know friends when someone is beating the heck on your front door at 4 in the morning then something is dreadfully "not right".  By the time we made it to the front door, we saw them.


My brother, Dick and sister, Sherry were standing on our front porch steps. And what was even more weird than seeing them at our house in the 'wee' morning hours was the fact that they were dressed in pajamas.  Unfortunately, it didn't take long to figure out what was going on.  My sister's simple 5 word exclamation "The house is on fire!" and the mammoth orange glow on the south eastern horizon told the story.


It didn't take that long, in all honesty, for that old farmhouse to go.  The fire started in the new fireplace, caught the back porch on fire and then quickly spread to the kitchen and the remaining seven rooms.  And out of the burning and smoke filled house, came the  people that would definitely have been in my "keeper" pile of my  "living lightly" assignment, my family.  Because my sister Sherry was pregnant with the little baby who was to be my niece Mandy, eight lives were spared that day.


The series of events that followed were filled with irony.  Daddy had this uncanny habit of carrying the set of keys for every vehicle that he owned on a key chain in the pockets of his work pants.  Luckily he found the pair of work pants quickly in the darkness and because the phone was already dead and gone, he went to his pick up to use his CB radio to call for help.  Daddy's radio handle was the "Bald Eagle" and it only took a couple of tries of calling for help before a trucker going by on 96 highway recognized who was screaming for assistance. The trucker notified the Haven Fire Department to get help.  But try as everyone might, it would be of no use.  The Haven fire truck only made it to the outskirts of town when the clutch went out.  Precious minutes flew by as they quickly got a second fire truck to pull the first one out to fight the blaze.  By the time we made it there from town, there was little to do but watch it go.  I will never forget the look of despair on my father's face....This big, strong and hard-working man who always put his family before himself and provided for them had to stand helplessly by as the fire finished engulfing everything inside.

What a "crash course" in travelling light looks like.  The aftermath, on Christmas Day 1976.  


Praise the good Lord above, miraculously no one died.  Except for some smoke inhalation, no major injuries befell anyone that day.  And you know even IF everything you ever owned was now reduced to a pile of ruins inside the deep abyss of the basement walls, well who really cared anyway?  Eight lives were spared that day...THOSE people lived to tell the story.


In as quickly as the house burnt to the ground, equally fast was the way in which friends and neighbors came to our family's aid.  Haven postmaster, Raleigh May, was the first one at the back door of our family's business, Scott's Cafe.  He pressed a check for $100 into my dad's hands, telling him he knew there would be more to come.  Man, was he ever right about that.  Food, clothing, furniture and household goods filled the back room of the cafe in the hours following.  Paul Grier, our local pharmacist, went down to fill my dad's numerous prescriptions for his heart ailment and would take absolutely NO money.  The Hempstid's opened their variety store and invited Mom to get anything they might need.  They too would take no payment. And these were just a couple of the many folks that helped.  Even now, 35 years later, the surviving members of the Scott family remember that little town with a humble and thankful heart.  If you HAVE to learn how to "travel light" in such an extreme manner, well you can only hope that it's in a place like Haven, Kansas.

My parents and grandmothers that Christmas Day of 1976~all four of them now gone from this earth.  I sure miss you guys!

As far as I'm concerned, a "miraculous" find amidst the ruins.  Not much bigger than a quarter, the duck shaped charm from my own baby bracelet.  The words "PEGGY ANN" were burnt off but the shape of the duck remained nearly perfect.  No doubt about it, friends, this goes into the "over my dead body" pile  :)


Taking time off from writing in the blog until next week when I return on Tuesday to the "land of miracles".  May you each have a blessed Christmas!

friends for life

Yesterday, in an effort to keep up with MY end of the homework assignment, you know the one I gave in which we were supposed to pick a room of our house and then proceed to choose 5 things that we could NEVER part with and five things that we really COULD live without?--well, I ended up choosing my living room. 


My plan of attack was just to start sorting stuff into piles and in no time at all, I had managed to make one huge mess on the floor that ended up looking like a "Kansas tornado in the springtime" had come through.  Friends, the real problem was that the "keeper" pile greatly outnumbered my "take it or leave it" pile. The sober realization of the fact that whatever I had "strung out" one-handed, would sooner or later have to be picked up again one-handed, began to soak in.  What was I thinking?


Funny how the future disbursement of the material goods of one simple room in my house could be so confusing and challenging.  After going back and forth for the better part of 15 minutes, I was about ready to give up the thought and start in a different room of the house.  Right before I threw in the towel and moved on, I saw it.  A piece of paper, folded crisply in half and wedged in between two photo albums.


I sat right down in the middle of the floor, amidst the stacks of "over my dead body will I give these up" and "why did I buy this for anyway?" and opened up the paper and read the words written inside.  I know now what it means to say "my heart smiled" and if I share those words with you, perhaps yours will as well this day.


In addition to being an elementary school teacher, I also have worked since 2005 as a CNA in long-term care facilities here in Hutchinson.  It's been an interesting life for me and this idea of working with people at both ends of the age spectrum, from the very young to the very old, has afforded me the opportunity to make many memories.  I have a "teacher notebook" filled with the cute things that kids have told me over the years and as a CNA I kept a journal filled with the sage advice that my elders had given me as I took care of them.  The page I found tucked between the photo albums was one that had accidentally fallen out of the journal but now that I think about it, I don't think it was an accident at all, but rather meant to be yesterday.


In one of my very first jobs as a CNA, back in 2006, I took care of the most remarkable 96-year old man named Lowell.  We became friends right away and he always looked forward to the weekends that I would be there to take care of him.  Lowell and I had a system that seemed to work out pretty good for us.  I would never wake him up with cold hands and he would always smile and say "Florence?  Florence Nightengale is that you?"  When he needed to "head to the john" (that's how he phrased it) he'd always take his harmonica in there with him and play a tune.  When I heard the music stop, I knew that he was either done or had fallen asleep and that it was time to check on him.  And at night, when it was time to help him get ready for bed, he would always hang on to his hearing aids until I remembered to trade him the call light for them.  Our routine worked pretty well....Lowell was happy and I was happy...a "win-win" situation if ever I did see one.


One of the first things you realize when you take care of the elderly is that getting too close to them is generally not the best plan but.....TOO LATE FOR LOWELL AND I  because that had already happened.  The year that I was able to be a part of his life was a joyous one for me. Looking back now, I wouldn't have changed a thing.  


 I was thinking of Lowell one Sunday evening that I was "off" and decided to pay him a visit.  Stopping by Braum's first to pick up some strawberry ice cream for both of us to enjoy, I wheeled him down to the family room.  For the next hour we sat there, just the 2 of us like a couple of little kids enjoying the great flavor of that dip of ice cream.  We talked about everything EXCEPT living in a nursing home.  In the course of our conversation, he said something so profound to me that the first thing  I did when I got home was to write it down to later put into the journal.  Those words were the ones I found on the sheet of paper yesterday...

So from that moment in time on, Lowell Bilsten and I were "Peggy and Lowell-friends for life". In our case, that friendship sadly came to an end only 2 months later when he passed away here in Hutchinson after a blessedly short illness.  It had been a wonderful year of knowing a man who, even at the ripe old age of nearly 97, still knew every capital of all  the 50 states.  The only one I ever knew him to be unsure of was Albany, NY and hey, I think we could cut him some slack there.  LOL


I said that finding that paper yesterday was no accident and I believe that to be true.  Here was a man who was travelling extremely light in his final years...happy with his harmonica, a radio to listen to all of the KU basketball games, and family and friends that loved him enough to be sure that he was well cared for.  He no longer needed much in material goods and he knew it.  His sights were set upon much greater things than that kind of stuff. 


Pretty sure that Lowell would be "ok" with my giving myself a "do-over" as I go back to those stacks in the living room with a somewhat changed perspective.  And by the way, to the 3 Facebook friends who emailed me their homework, "way to go" on some pretty ingenious ways to recycle some great things that they really never needed in the first place.  Your great ideas have now inspired me!


And to dear Lowell~Peggy Miller's life was made so much richer by knowing you and those are the kinds of riches that no one can take away from me.  See you in Heaven some day my friend and we'll say the state capitals together, once again~

SOME OF THE BEST MEDICINE!

With Grahame and Oblio, the round-headed cat, as my witnesses, I dutifully took my medicine today.  But I'm telling you my dear friends, the very BEST and most POWERFUL of healing prescriptions were never poured from these bottles on this cold and dreary December Monday.

For as thankful that I am that Percocet can take away my pain, Ibuprofen will slow down my inflammation, Colace will keep the old stuff moving along (yeah, yeah, yeah I know-that's a TMI moment), and Duricef will keep the bad bugs "at bay", these man-made chemicals have nothing on the "power of the human touch."  And this "one-armed schoolteacher" witnessed what the gift of human kindness not only LOOKS like, but FEELS like today.


I keep telling you that I am blessed beyond measure my friends and today as the recipient of some other mighty "powerful" drugs, I am here to attest to the fact that medicine alone cannot completely heal a person's wounds.  For these "gifts" to my, at times, ever sinking spirit and weary heart...I do so give my sincerest thanks......


~for the wonderful Christmas card that arrived in my mailbox today from someone I treasure and will always hold very close to my heart.............

~for the photo, all the way from Sarasota, Florida, of family members that mean so much to me

~for the message in my e-mail box this morning from a dear friend that said, "I'm praying for your arm to heal, Peggy." (even though I listened to his advice about learning to swim but didn't listen to his advice about NOT getting a tattoo(s) -thanks for still being my very good friend)

~for the beautiful amaryllis plant and card filled with money for us to use to "eat out" on while I go through these first weeks of recuperation and for the visit of a wonderful teacher and friend who represented an entire staff of THE MOST WONDERFUL PEOPLE EVER TO WORK WITH EACH AND EVERY DAY, my special friends and co-workers at Lincoln Elementary here in Hutchinson

~and for my family and friends who constantly check in with me and care beyond measure......
                                
  Well, do you see why I feel so very blessed ?


So, on this very cold and wintry night here in Kansas, I send to all of you, my family and friends who are scattered from one corner of this country to the next, my very best wishes for a safe, warm, and peaceful evening time.  Where would we all be without the love of one another?  I know the answer to THAT one--in BIG trouble!

looking up

Today has been a better day, thank the good Lord above!  I'm rating my recovery by the number of times that "I've rested my eyes" today ;)  As of the 6 o'clock hour, I'd have to nap 5 more times today to even get close to yesterday's version of being "out like a light".  The last Percocet I took was at bedtime Saturday evening and can't say that I am pain-free, just uncomfortable from time to time.  The side-effects from taking pain killers for more than a couple of days are not the most pleasant, and rather than this be a "too much information" moment, I'll just kind of leave it at that.  But I'm guessing there are many of you reading this that know just what I'm speaking of....kind of a "Yep, been there, done that!" kind of deal.


 But friends, how grateful I am to know that the medication I might well  need is only a few steps away in the kitchen cupboard and if there were to be a question that came up regarding my care, I could call my doctor in Wichita for help, 24 hours a day.  How many people in my own town of Hutchinson, Ks. are, of necessity, going WITHOUT healthcare right now?  Or on the block that you live?  This experience has taught me many lessons, one of the greatest being this-"Stop taking all of this for granted."  


Ok guys, on to the reason for today's posting...As a teacher, I have to admit having a few "senior moments" from time to time.  And I wish I had the excuse of having brain cells "under the influence" of Percocet to fall back upon.  But this time I don't.  Over a week ago, we got on this "travelling light" subject and that "100 Thing" challenge. Remember?  As I was looking back through my lesson plan book, umm, I mean an earlier blog post, I realized I hadn't collected your homework for that following weekend. 


Oh boy, I can hear the nervous whispering now....."We had homework?  You're kidding, right?"


No, not kidding but because I know how busy you all are, you most certainly deserve a break, a "do-over" of sorts.  So here's the new assignment, kind of a mixture of the original homework with an added new ironic twist.....


"Pick one room of your home, doesn't matter which one.  Look at all the material things you have amassed there and decide the following.....What 5 things could you easily give up?  What 5 things do you consider priceless, irreplaceable?"  Remember, these are material goods only.  Remember as well, there are absolutely no right or wrong answers.  And as usual, when you get homework from me on this blog, you are guaranteed to be the ONLY one to see your answers.  In other words friends, you're a "shoe-in" for an "A+ /the top of the class".  The red-headed kid with glasses in the back row has his hand up..."When is it due?" you ask....only when you are ready...only when you are ready.


And finally, one last question....a goofy one at that, but probably pretty "normal" for someone who has taken more pain killers since August 4th than she has in her entire life...Do any of you have a "recurring" dream?  You know a dream that returns in basically the same format on a periodic basis?  Kind of a dream in which you are trying to find out about something but the answer to it always alludes you.  So close, but yet so very far away....I had mine today during my afternoon, time "to rest my eyes" break.  Since it pertains to the subject that we are talking about, maybe you will know the answer.  Ok, here goes...be sure to turn on your meters...   :)


In my dream, I'm always a little kid, more than likely that little 10-year old girl that was afraid of the water.  Some of my 6 siblings are with me, different ones from time to time.  Once in a while Daddy is there but Mom is always with me in the dream.  And we live in a big and gigantic house that has 3 stories and that's where the elusive part of the dream comes in.  We're never allowed to go to the 3rd floor...Mom always stops us before we can get there.  We kids all know that whatever is up there is really nice stuff, not scary or anything.  Mom just tells us the same thing every time...."We have enough now and we don't need any more.  And then, RATS I always wake up before I have the chance to sneak up there!


I've been having various versions of this same dream for several years now and since I haven't figured it out exactly, maybe you can.  I have my own ideas of what the 3rd floor really represents to me in life, but I'm still not 100% sure.  So, if you've ever wanted the chance to have a career as a "dream analyzer", well folks, here's your once in a lifetime opportunity!  Doubt that I will ever figure it out for sure, nor maybe do I even want or need to.


Well, time to plug in the electric blanket warmer, finish this cup of hot tea and call it good for the day.  God has surely been good to me this day~for even the smallest of things, I give thanks.  Good night!

Oh man, back when it USED to be summer-Day #2 on the Bike Across Kansas-high temp. 97 with a humidity to match.....and to think that I ever complained.

feeling like I've been here before

I wasn't going to post anything today but you know friends this has been the roughest "third day out" that I can ever imagine.  And oh wow, dying laughing here as I look at the red squiggly mark underneath the word "third".  My trusty spell checker has shown me that I left the very important letter  'H' from third but as I stop now and correct it, well really wouldn't need to do that anyway because that's how I HAVE felt today.  


I had kind of forgotten that a person could sleep most of the day away but that's what has happened to me today.  Using what few available "sober" brain cells I've got left, being unable to count on the ones under the influence of my new "best friend" Percocet, I figure I have been awake about 3 hours since I got up this morning at 6 a.m.  That may well mean that I'm sleep-deprived to begin with OR, surprise. surprise, that my body is demanding to know "what the heck is going on Peggy?"   Either way, I know that I won't be up much longer.


As is always the case with me, when I feel frustrated and kind of low, as I do now...if I can just get my fingers on this keyboard and pound out my thoughts, one stinking key at a time, then I feel so much better.  That's the "good medicine" that I'm taking right now....can't be poured out of a pill bottle...has to be poured from the heart.  


Friends, I am making it and yes, it is most certainly a feeling of "deja vu" all over again.  Believe it or not, doing things one-handed  seems to be just a tiny bit easier this time around.  If I work at it, really concentrating, I can still tie my own shoes and make a fairly decent attempt at combing my own hair.  With my shower chair, I can give myself a bath and dress myself one-handed.  I learned last time how to squirt toothpaste onto a toothbrush with very little mess to deal with and if I should need help in washing my hair then I'm going to call my good friends and able-bodied assistants, Haddie and Ella, to come give me a hand.  So, guess that I'm not in such bad shape after all, given the real shape that I'm in.  Keeping the "focus" on getting well again is going to expedite the healing process....feeling sorry for myself, "sure as shooting", will only slow down my recovery time.  Since life is precariously short as it is, please feel free to give me the proverbial "swift kick in the seat of the pants" if you should ever notice me sitting on the "pity pot".  


One last thing, and then it is REALLY time for nap #7 today...I think I recall telling you that when I got my first tattoo on my birthday back in October, that it would be my only one.  I was wrong-it wasn't.  Two days before my surgery last week, I decided to honor the memory of the person who donated their bone to me in August.  I had just learned, the day before, that it came from a 45-year old man from Missouri who had died perhaps as early as 2009.  I still do not know his name, but how grateful I felt to even know those tiny bits of information about him.  That unknown man will forever be a part of my life from now on.  And if my getting a tattoo helps not only to honor his memory and serve as a visual reminder to me of his sacrifice but also to promote the cause of organ and tissue donations for transplant, well then that man's death will not be in vain.  It looks like this, on the inside of my right lower calf and I say God bless him for what he did for me and countless others.

Surgery date to receive his transplant, his home state of Missouri to my home state of Kansas, and one of the most meaningful Bible verses I know of now.  Tremendously and overwhelmingly blessed my dear friends.  That is how Peggy Miller feels right now.  My prayer for all of you has been and will always be the same....peace and blessings given to you all beyond measure from our dear God above.  Good night all...time for me tozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  :)

Visiting the "scene of the crime" earlier today.  That dang curb is as strong and steady as it was the day it was poured back in '36.  They made cement to last back then!

Like Red Green's Toolbox

By the time the calendar shows the late evening hours of December 21st next week, "old lefty" will have endured 3 consecutive seasons of trying to get well after my August 4th accident.  Beginning on that fateful and early August morning and running through the autumn months of September, October, and November, well let's just say I feel like I've been around the block at LEAST twice. 

 But I'm hanging in there and hey, when I checked the obituary page of The Hutch News just a moment ago, I wasn't even listed.  I think about something that my good friend LeRoy Willis said to me once in a message and surely  you have heard it many times as well.  "Peggy, what doesn't kill you ONLY makes you stronger."  So I rejoice in the fact that I am still here and if what LeRoy says is true and the old song by Chicago says, then I shall be "Feeling Stronger Everyday."  Young people reading this, Chicago is not only an Illinois city.  It is also one of the greatest musical groups ever.  Just wanted to clear that up for you kids  :)

Yesterday actually came and went rather quickly, much to my surprise.  I slept very soundly the night before, never waking even once.  In the hours before I left, I finished up some of the last "2-handed" things that I needed to do like changing bed linens, vaccuuming, and of course my weekly contribution to the betterment of Hutchinson's economy--a "WalMart run".  So with a clean bed to lie in, a canister of dirt from the carpeting, and my $150 contribution towards the shareholders of Sam Walton's corporation, I travelled lightly.


I made it to Wichita with plenty of time to spare and before I knew it, I was being prepped for surgery.  Rather than completely being put to sleep, I received a block in the armpit that rendered "old lefty" the same as useless. Got to tell you friends, now that is the weirdest of feelings!  As I lay waiting for the trip to the O.R., I had absolutely NO clue where that arm was.  I figured it had to be perhaps across my chest but when I reached for it, no arm!  Well I knew it had to be SOMEWHERE, so I began feeling around to try and locate it.  It took a moment or two but at long last, there it was...stuck down in between the bed rails, pointing due south.  Kind of glad that it didn't try to go any further away from me.  :)


Dr. Chan and his crew had a big job ahead of them in performing what we all hope to be the final surgery on my arm.  I had the utmost of confidence in his ability to do the necessary repairs.  So with that certainty, I just closed my eyes and left the job to them.  Right before they put the drapes up to begin the surgery, I asked them to let me see "old lefty" one last time.  You know, it made me feel better to be able to look at it and see just how far I have come.  The scars alone will tell one heck of a story someday.  


Well, 90 minutes and a whole lot of other stuff later, "old lefty"  was done...the before and after x-rays tell the story better than I can....

                                                                   
                                                         Day 1-Aug. 4th

                                            
                                                 Day 133-December 15th


Remember how I mentioned once that before the first surgery the doctors kept telling me that it looked like a bomb had exploded in my arm?  Well now, I kind of think it looks like Red Green's tool box might have blown up in there instead!  By my count I see a plate that really resembles an open-end wrench, one heck of a long screw, as well as 1 really long nail (ok just a pin).  All that is left to play a game of "I Spy" would be a roll of the "Handyman's Secret Weapon", duct tape.  And by the way friends, don't give them any more ideas, ok?  If I ever get over my fear of flying I'd better plan on a whole lot more time to go through security.  Just saying...


Well friends, nearly time for another Percocet, some lunch and one more nap.  Since I began typing this blog post at 5 this morning, I've taken a bath plus three nap breaks.  Hey only 6 hours to finish this post one-handed and with my mind in a stupor from pain killers.  I do believe that beats my record from the first time around!  Have a good rest of the Friday my friends.  I'm thinking of you all and I wish for you only the best!

And as would be said by one of my favorite tv personalities,  Red Green, "Keep your stick on the ice.  We're all pulling for you."




   

Heading out soon for the "Land of Miracles" for the 3rd instalment of the "most expensive bike ride" that I ever took!  Weird how being "NPO" since midnight now qualifies me to enter the Guiness Book of World Records as the hungriest and thirstiest person alive now.  I'm ready for this and resigned to go through it.  Most grateful to live in a land and a time where modern medicine can repair damage such as "old lefty's".  


You know, no matter what happens to me today....or to any of us for that matter, Thursday, December 15, 2011 is a great day to be alive...and I'm thinking that I will rejoice in that!  Have a great day wherever you are and be sure to take care of yourselves.  You are all so very much worth it!  Later, friends...

If I knew then, what I know now.....nah, probably wouldn't have changed a thing!  :)

for the children and "the bump"

Pausing for a moment this morning before I leave to begin my last day at school for a while.  With the surgery on "old lefty" scheduled for tomorrow (Thursday) I have decided it best to just stay home, rest and heal until school reconvenes after the Christmas holidays are over and we return to school on January 3rd.  Must be the "old person" in me, but I've been sitting here and thinking about the many little kids that have helped me so much as I struggled to get through the first part of this ordeal.  This morning, I do so remember them.


There was that little boy, a first grader, who early on took me under his wing at school.  It was all done in such a loving and genuine manner.  He was the little kid who would come up and just rub my shoulders because he was afraid that my arm and hand were hurting me.  I never had to worry about carrying anything because that little guy anticipated what I needed help with long before I knew it.  And he did it all, every single day, because he knew that helping his teacher was the right thing to do.  I will always remember him and his kindness to me.


Can't forget that sweet little group of first graders who cheered me on the day that I foolishly tried to peel stickers off of a sheet with "old lefty."  They were the first ones to witness their teacher crying when I realized just how bad off my lame hand had become.  And it was the dearest of them all who cried out to me "Don't give up Mrs. Miller 'cause you can do it!"  The smiles on their faces and their encouraging demeanour told me that, heck yes I can do it!  And hey guess what?  I actually did it!


Wow, can't forget that group of 5th graders that were in my morning reading rotation group who were the witnesses to what I say was a "miracle".  They were the ones who sat there in utter amazement when they saw the thumb of "old lefty" finally move for the first time in a long, long time.  Didn't matter if it was only a tiny bit of movement....IT MOVED.  And I was moved, to tears, by what I FINALLY was able to do.  The wonderful thing was, even though tears were streaming down my face with happiness that I finally had "willed" that stupid thumb to do something..not one of those kids laughed at me.  In fact, one of them said to me right away, "It's ok Mrs. Miller.  Can I get you a kleenix?"


There were always groups of curious kids, ones who wanted to know exactly what was happening to me during the recovery process.  They only shuddered once when I showed them the long scar from the surgery and after that they said nothing more.  They asked great questions about what had happened and I always told them the truth about things.  One thing that this ordeal has taught me is that kids understand way more than we adults ever give them credit for.  As has been the case so many times during my 34-year career as a teacher, I have learned much more from them than they at times might have learned from me.  


Every single one of them just accepted "the bump" on "old lefty's" wrist as, well, that's just the way it was for their teacher.  One story that I never told about "the bump" happened with a 3rd grade math group I was working with.  One afternoon I mentioned to them that I felt pretty self-conscious about the way it looked now, the bump.  One of the little girls said to me, "I hope no one makes fun of you."  And I will surely never forget the comment that one of those dear little kids said next, to me...."Mrs. Miller, if anyone gives you trouble about your bump, then I think you should just draw a face on it and make a little hat for it to wear."  (I'm dying laughing here because it was so sweetly and sincerely said by this little guy) He went on to say, "and if anybody makes fun of you or the bump, you have to just let me know."  I'm so happy I didn't have to do that....   :)


I drew closer to a couple of young folks who were in the same proverbial "boat" that I was-Darin and Nadonna, my two new friends who broke their arms as well this school year.  We cheered one another on as we went through the healing process and I will always have a special place in my heart for them.  And I will be sure to remind them, that while it is time for me to return to the "broken arm club" for a while, they are not invited to join me!  :)  We helped each other in ways that are hard to explain and certainly ways that could not be prescribed by our doctors.  Nadonna, Darin and I went through it together and if you HAVE to go through it, there is ALWAYS strength in numbers.


And last, but surely not least, for all of the little kids who helped to remind me of the healing power of the "human touch".  For that little tiny girl who, on one of the worst days of this ordeal, reached up and massaged the swollen and badly bruised fingers of "old lefty", I am thankful.  For every little one who reached up their hand to hold "old lefty's" hand as we walked down the hall at school.....man, they don't even know what the warmth of their hand in mine did for my "sinking" spirit.  And for the sweet and loving hugs I received at school yesterday from some of the "biggest" little kids, Mr. Johnson's 6th grade class, well what can I say?  The "get well soon" cards that they made me came from deep within their hearts and that is where the "power of the human touch" really begins in the first place.  Friends, once again I have to say...EVERY MORNING I GET UP AND GO TO THE BEST SCHOOL EVER AND DO A JOB  THAT I LOVE!  Don't know how much more blessed a person could ever be.


Well, it's getting kind of late for me.....5:15 in the a.m.   Most of those little guys are still asleep or at least they had BETTER be!  I've got to get a "move on" and head out the door in an hour or so.    This will probably be my last post for a few days.  Then it will back to the days of "one-handed typing", not so much fun, but still the best therapy for my sometimes "sinking spirit".  No need to worry about anything guys....everything is going to be "ok".  Thank you for your kind thoughts, words, deeds and prayers on my behalf.  I know that God is with me and there is no need to fear for anything.  It's all taken care of by Him.  Have a great day all of you and let's remember to take care of one another.

Five of the more than 200 reasons that I get up and go to work each and every day....

Meeting Eleanor

I had every intention for this blog post to just be a quick update on my  visit to see Dr. Chan in Wichita today and the scheduling of the third surgery for Thursday of this week.  But as so often the case in my life, especially as of late, God always has this way of intervening and today He sent me the message, "Peggy, you only THINK that's all you will have to talk about."  Friends, I guess I'd better explain.


My doctor visit back to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita was a good one.  Seemed so very strange to go in for a 7:15 a.m. appointment and hey, at least I had the pick of parking spots and the comfiest of the waiting room's chairs.  As I opened the door to go inside, I couldn't help but notice the beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the south east corner of the waiting room.  Wow, to think of all the time that had passed since I first walked in there in early August, now going on nearly 5 months ago.  Flip flops were the standard "foot cover" back in those hot "dog days" of summer and now, well now you'd better hope for something a little bit more substantial on your feet and hey, on the rest of you for that matter.


In no time at all, I was back in the x-ray room doing what "old lefty" does REALLY good by now, getting a photo taken.  Today's set of pictures, the 6th ones taken so far, were to help Dr. Chan to determine whether or not the surgery from August 10th has had enough time to substantially heal before doing the next procedure.  I knew that unless they looked remarkably well enough that there would be a chance he would say "no" to having the surgery soon.  Once again though, I trusted his good judgement without even hesitating.  He knows what is best for his patients.  Dr. Chan is the  one guy I would never "second guess".


While I was in Dr. Chan's office, he took a look at the x-rays and made the pronouncement that "old lefty" was "good to go" for the surgery.  I told him about the pain that I sometimes have when I use my left hand and after looking at the x-rays, he could tell why.  The arthritis, a natural result of the injuries my hand and wrist received, was getting worse rather quickly.  He told me of his plan to go in and shorten up the ulna by a few inches, pin the two parts together and then go ahead to excise the small bone that had reattached itself "helter skelter" to the wrist area.  Thankfully and "praise the Lord", he will also do a carpal tunnel release and here's hoping that will take care of the numb feeling in my hand and fingers.  


Of course, he gave me the expected news...at least 8 weeks in a long-arm cast are in store for me.  They absolutely do not want the elbow to be bending during this first stage of healing and even though I'd rather not be wearing one, it won't be forever.  All in all, a very predictable dr. appointment, just as I figured it would be.  And then I drove home and found the very "unexpected".....  I met Eleanor~


I have spoken many times about the day I received the gift of a donor's bone as Dr. Chan and his team tried their best to put my "Humpty Dumpty" left arm back together.  I was totally unaware that it was even a possibility for me.  Heck, I never even knew that a person could donate their bones upon their death.  But I sure learned that lesson quickly along with about a thousand others.


Such a bitter-sweet and overwhelming feeling to be told that, because in someone's death they decided to donate what they could so that others could lead a normal life, that my arm had been repaired.  As long as I live, until the very last breath I take and my eyes close for the last time, I will never forget the feeling that I had when I heard that news in the recovery room.  With tear-filled eyes, I reached over with my right hand and hugged the portion of my left arm that I supposed the donor's bone to be at within my own arm.  And I sent whoever that unknown person was a message from my heart-"Thank you for caring about me, thank you for saving me. And I love you."


My donor, identified only by a string of numbers on the envelope I was given from the Musculoskeletal Transplant Foundation, remained a mystery to me.  I remember as I lay there for the first few minutes "soaking up" the news of this marvelous and blessed gift, I wondered who it might have been.  That's when the name of Eleanor popped into my head and I began to have this very strong feeling that the name of Eleanor must have something to do with my donor.  And so, that gift of life became known to me and anyone who knew me as "Eleanor".  Here we are below:

It had been nearly 5 months now since the accident and subsequent surgery had happened.  Even though I had written a letter to the family of the person who had donated their bone to me, I had not heard back.  You know, even though I was a little sad to never know who it was that had helped me, I understood and I respected their decision to not say anything.  I never expected to know anything more....that is at least until this afternoon.


Today, I received an email from a contact person that I have been working with in regards to the bone transplant and that email contained the sweetest 8 words that I believe I will ever read in this life.......it read, "He was a 45-year old male from Missouri."  You know friends, I didn't cry when I read them but I am right now and my heart is full of love and compassion for an unknown stranger and his family who truly gave me the gift of a new arm.  For me, it's about as humbling of an experience as I have ever been privileged to go through.  I give thanks to God for sending me through it.


I may never know his name, but it really doesn't matter now.  The information that I have is enough for me and if the family should choose to contact me in the future, well then I would be most happy.  I had given up hope of ever hearing anything but in God's perfect time, I was shown what I needed to know.  


I have thought much about this man in the past few hours.  Whoever he was, he was someone's little baby boy once.  Perhaps he was someone's brother or uncle, husband or boyfriend, perhaps a child's father or maybe even someone's grandpa.  You know, I'll bet he was someone's best friend and maybe the kindest next door neighbor a person could ever want.  Man, think of the possibilities.


I wonder, was there anything about him that was like me?  Did he ever listen to the music of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young?  Was his favorite song "Suite Judy Blue Eyes"?  Perhaps he hated olives as much as I do and who knows, maybe he liked riding bikes too!  Whoever this man was, he is a hero to me now.  And as I say over and over and over again, when I die, I wish to go in the same manner as this man from Missouri did-with eyes shut but a heart wide open!  


I have had so many people ask me things about organ, bone, and tissue transplants since I received mine back in August.  I'm still learning a lot about them and will gladly pass along any information that I could possibly get.  In the meantime, if you want to learn more about how to donate organs upon your own death, please visit the website of the Musculoskeletal Transplant Foundation at www.mtf.org  There is a wealth of information there and they have the answers to so many frequently asked questions about organ and tissue donation.  As always, please remember that the decision to donate organs or tissue upon your death is a very personal one.  For those that choose to say "no" to it, I respect your decision.  If you are interested in donating your organs and tissue, then please learn as much about it as you possibly can.  There are so many people waiting and, sadly, dying each day to receive a transplant.  


For now, part of the mystery is solved for me and on Thursday morning, when I head into surgery once again, I'll be taking "Eleanor" with me.  My spirits are good, my mind is set, I am not afraid and I know God will be with me.  And if I have all of that, geesch, what else would I need?  Good night my friends and take of yourselves always!




"No greater love hath a man than this, that he would lay down his life for his friend."  
(from the Good Book-John, Chapter 15, verse 13)

My very first day of school this year-that long arm cast was pretty hot and itchy.  Maybe it won't be so bad this time....hey, I can dream can't I?  LOL, LOL