and now for some good news for a change

So hard for me to imagine that it will be 7 months, come this weekend, that my bicycle accident occurred...Gee, time flies when your arm is broken!  (kind of, sort of) Today was the day for me to return to the "land of miracles" for an EMG test on "old lefty" to determine whether or not any nerve damage could be causing the continually numb feeling that I have in the little finger, ring finger, and the palm of my hand.  The test was ordered by Dr. Chan after my visit to his office last Friday.  With the ever present symptoms not subsiding, he felt it best to rule out the need for any further surgery.


The weekend gave me plenty of time to mull over a lot of things in regards to the chance a 4th surgery would be necessary.  I went back and forth, arguing with myself, as to whether or not I thought it would be the case.  When I woke up this morning, I had finally resigned myself to the fact that it probably would be a "given" due to my track record since August 4th. "Murphy's Law" and "Miller's Tough and Uncanny Luck" have been best friends for some time now.  So exercising absolutely no faith at all, I just knew that my news was going to be bad.  And as the "Good Book" says, "Oh ye, of little faith!"


You know this EMG test absolutely goes against everything my parents taught me about being around electrical currents.  As kids growing up, my siblings and I were taught the importance of never doing something ridiculously stupid like putting something into an electrical outlet~at least not if you didn't want to get the "living daylights" shocked out of you. And so today, there I was like a "human guinea pig" sitting at a table allowing a doctor to systematically "shock" my fingers, hand, and arm at will.  For the record, it's not that bad.  So if you ever need to have one in the future, just remember that I am proof  it doesn't kill you.  


As I returned to the main waiting room to sit until I was called back to Dr. Chan's office, I couldn't help but notice all of the people in similar straits as I was.  Chalk it up to being nervous about the test results, I began to think of other things....for instance just how many people in that big waiting room had casts on their arms.  I counted 13 and the really weird thing was that 11 of us had our left arms affected.  Not sure what that says...just throwing it out there as "food for thought."  An equal number of folks were working with a variety of other complaints, like broken feet, separated shoulders, and fractured legs.  We all came in various shapes and sizes, age groups, etc. but for all of our differences, we still had one major thing in common~we all needed someone at the Kansas Orthopaedic Center to help restore us back to our former "good health".  I always have a sense of peace as I wait in that area.  It's a place where I don't feel alone in my predicament and you can look at anyone else sitting there and say to yourself and them too, "I kind of know how you feel."  


When they called me back to Dr. Chan's office, I went still dragging along with me the sneaking suspicion that I'd be scheduling an appointment for surgery in the near future.  In fact, so sure was I that before leaving school today, I grabbed my planner book so I'd know what day to schedule it. I was soon to be proved very wrong.


Dr. Prince Chan has NEVER had a smile on his face as  big as the one he wore today when he came into my room.  Not that he never smiles~he just never smiles from "ear to ear".  I knew something was up-just didn't know what.


"I've got some good news for you Peggy!" he announced as he sat down beside me.  


The EMG tests showed that there was absolutely no nerve damage done~about the best news I have heard in quite a long spell.  No surgery would be needed~geesch and now I wouldn't be able to use my "punch card" ...."have 3 surgeries and get the 4th surgery free!"  LOL, well you know what I mean.


At this point in time, Dr. Chan is convinced that the nerves are just irritated and still swollen from all of the trauma induced to them after my accident and in the 3 subsequent surgeries that followed.    It may take weeks, months, or even a year before things return to normal again.  But you know what?  I can live with that~


He saved the other news, probably the even better news for the last.  I need to come back to see him in 4 weeks at which time one more set of x-rays will be taken and then there is a 99.9% chance that after long, long last, I will be dismissed.  Can't even imagine what that day will be like but this I know~I sure will be glad to see it arrive.


Before leaving, I once again dared to ask the question...one that I've gone back and forth on so very many times in the past 7 months.  It's a question I've given up asking more than twice but today I thought, "What the heck?  I'm asking him."


"Dr. Chan, what do you advise on my riding a bicycle?  Can I ever do it again or should I just give it up?" I asked him.  And his reply was something that I took heart in and when I say that my spirit soars from time time, well on this day, it was high above the city of Wichita.


He told me "yes" that there is no reason on this earth that I should give up bicycle riding.  In fact, he even encouraged me to get right back on the trainer this very day and get my legs back in shape again.  With all that encouragement, he did add one extra thought, "I just don't want you to ever crash and burn again!"  :)  


My response back to him was, "Me either!"  


So tonight, that's just what I'm going to do.  To my dear friends LeRoy and Anne Willis who brought me the wind trainer back to Kansas from their journey through Colorado, I say "guess it's time to get back on it!"  And I do promise to be careful dear friends.  I am a bicyclist and an accident is just that, only an accident.  I would be foolish to never try to enjoy one of the greatest pastimes I have ever known.  


I wish all of you dear friends and family of mine, a life filled with blessings.  I pray that you never go through anything like I have.  But if you do, then may God send all of you the angels that He has sent to take care of me.  When it's all said and done, and as I've said many times, crashing my bike was one of the very best things that ever happened to me.  I no longer am the same!  :)

Hey, it might be a while before I can ride 100 miles again LOL, but little by little, I believe I can make it back.  Taken at the 100 mile marker on day 2 of the Bike Across Kansas.  Man, what a hot and windy day that was!!  The town of Beeler is off in the distance.  

"the verdict" is in....

I returned to the "land of miracles" earlier this afternoon on this, day #204 of "old lefty's" saga. I went to get a progress report from Dr. Chan as to how things were looking, now nearly 7 months after my accident.  And by the way, in case there was ever ANY doubt, looks like I will be able to say without reservation that I will have endured this broken arm through all four seasons of the year.  From the hot, late summer days of August, through the cool Kansas fall, now through most of the winter and heading back into spring, in one fashion or another my arm has never completely healed.  Dr. Chan made it "official" today during my 8-week out mark from my December 15th surgery.


"Old lefty" has smiled for the x-ray camera so many times now that I have surely lost count!  Today's picture taking session  was a bite of that proverbial "piece of cake."  I just walked in, sat down in the chair and placed my arm where it needed to be without any coaxing from the technician doing the x-ray.  Although it was easy for me today, I can well remember all of the times when just simply laying my arm down on the table was a monumentally painful task.  And I sure as heck didn't want to have to turn it very much either.  I just wanted who ever was taking the picture to hurry  up and get my arm off of that table!  So very thankful that it is much easier now as well as relieved to not put any x-ray technician through the torment and pain that I put the two young ladies through who took my first set of x-rays here at Hutchinson Hospital.  Geesch, I still wish I could find them to apologize!


When Dr. Chan came into the room and took a look at my x-rays, he seemed quite pleased.  The bone material from Eleanor has healed quite nicely inside my wrist area and every time I am told that, I am so happy.  In fact so much that I could easily cry if I thought about it for awhile.  Not a day goes by that I don't remember in gratitude an unknown man in Missouri whose death meant the chance for a new wrist for me. 


I had always been concerned about the 'gap' in the ulna from the December surgery.  When I asked him if that was a problem he replied, "No, we WANT the gap to be there.  It's what allows your wrist to turn now."  Lesson learned for me today-didn't realize that to be the case.


Then came the moment of truth~Dr. Chan started taking measurements of my ability to put my wrist into different positions.  Just 4 weeks ago, at my last appointment, he took a look at the measurements and with a very "frowny" face said to me that I absolutely had to start working harder at getting the wrist to move.  He had caught me "red handed", busted me for my lack of effort in the week before.  Today I wanted to make him proud of me and judging from the huge smile on his face, I think he was. 


"Wow, now this is great!" he exclaimed as he took the measurement of how far I could turn my wrist over.  I knew I had been getting better at it, just wasn't sure how MUCH better.  Today my measurement of degrees turned was already up to 74.  Since the last time was a measly 45, I think I can count that as an improvement.  And the greatest reward for me was to see the look of surprise on Dr. Chan's face as he realized just how much more I could do today. Priceless!


You know friends, I have to admit right now that I owe a debt of gratitude for my improved mobility to some of the students that I teach every day at Lincoln Elementary.  When I came back to school after visiting Dr. Chan 4 weeks ago, I told them the story about my needing to do more physical therapy exercises during the day.  They seemed interested in knowing what kinds of exercises I did and as we talked about it, I asked if they could help me.  After a little brainstorming session, we came up with a plan.  


Every morning, at the end of each of my 30 minute reading groups, I have been practicing turning my arm/wrist over for 30 seconds while my students watched the clock to time me.  Gotta tell you friends that these guys became sticklers for doing it right and stricter "taskmasters" than my friend in Physical Therapy, Kim Lockwood.  I made sure that I stood up straight, didn't lean my head over to one side, and kept my elbow locked close to me.  One designated kid would say "on your mark, get set, GO!" to me and the rest would be eyeing that clock, marking off what ever the 30 second mark would be.  


It was interesting that in the beginning, most of them chose not to watch me do it.  Early on, one of the little first graders said to the others, "Her face doesn't look too happy." as I struggled to even "kind of" turn my wrist over.  But heck, as time went on they no longer were afraid to watch it in fact, they soon became the greatest squad of cheerleaders I could have asked for.  Because of their encouragement and care, my wrist became stronger and my spirit began to soar.  


With as pleased as Dr. Chan was for the most part, he does have some concerns about why two of my fingers and part of the palm are still numb.  He scheduled a test for Monday to see how the nerves are working inside of "old lefty".  That will help him to determine if further surgery is necessary or if it's just something I will have to learn to live with.  And oh yeah, can't forget....Good thing that I like the color pink because I have another 3 weeks to wear my neon pink, get the heck out of my way, splint.  Just when I thought I was about ready to "retire" it!  :(


Even though the good doc's verdict didn't come back as wonderful as I had hoped, February 24, 2012 has still been a great day to be alive in!  But you know what?  August 4th, 2011 was actually pretty darned good too.  Having a broken arm has been an inconvenience, to be sure.  But it has also been the catalyst for my revised way of thinking of how NOT to take this life for granted.  From the minute my body flew off of the bike and landed on the curb, things have never been the same.  And that, dear friends, is a gift~

"Old lefty" has come a long, long ways since August.  Sometimes when my patience runs out I have to stop and look at this photo just to remember where I've already been!  

The "over my dead body" list

Back a couple of months ago, I began to think about this idea of "travelling light" and how it could benefit me and make my life so much easier to manage.  I read up on something that my daughter Ursela had told me about, "The 100 Thing Challenge", a movement started a few years back by a man named Dave Bruno.  Dave's challenge is for all of us to think about how much stuff we have accumulated over the years and then "pare down" our belongings to the 100 things that we would need and want the most in this life.  Now that's quite a challenge, one that many people across the country are trying to do at this very moment.


I love the motto of the "100 thing" movement~


Reduce-Get rid of all the stuff that you really don't need or want.
Refuse-Say "NO" to buying more stuff to replace the stuff that you just got rid of.
Rejigger-Start thinking about your priorities.  What's more important in your life?  What is that you have to have?  What amount will ever be enough?


Being so intrigued by the idea of "downsizing my life", I put the wish to learn how to "travel light" on the "Miller Bucket List" this time.  Between now and May 1st, I am going to be trying my best to decide what I have that I can surely live without as well as stuff that will forever be on the "over my dead body" list.  And friends, I've already begun!


It all started a couple of nights ago with 4 different sets of kitchen canisters that I own.  For the past 3 years they have sat proudly atop the kitchen cabinets for all to see as well as collect a tremendously big amount of dust.  They never really did what canister sets are supposed to do, you know hold flour, sugar, salt, etc.  I'd have to be a cook/baker for that to be needed and since I'm not, the main job of the canisters was to just "look nice" there.  And I guess, for all intents and purposes they did.  But it just seemed crazy to me that I had 4 different sets of them that were doing absolutely no good and most certainly were serving no worthy purpose!  So it was time to get rid of them.  On a whim, I listed them on the Reno County Buy, Sell and Trade site on Facebook and within 1 hour every single one of them was sold and my pockets were $40 richer.


I have to admit that it felt a little weird at first to be taking them down, washing them up, and then giving them to a complete stranger.  And for one brief second in time, I panicked and thought "Oh wow, now what am I going to put up in those big empty spots?"  But after my good sense returned to me, I realized that it was "OK" for there to be an empty spot, or two, or four.  By the next day, I didn't even notice they were missing and got to tell you-It felt kind of nice!


The canisters are just the beginning, as room by room I am trying to determine what are really the most important things to me.  Amazingly enough, I've already found many things that made me wonder why I even bought them in the first place.  Yet for everything that I find that could be gotten rid of, there are an equal amount of things that will always find their place in Peggy Miller's "over my dead body" pile.  


Take my set of 33 1/3 record albums for example....You know, I counted them tonight and came up with this magic number of 72.  Sorry, but you kids of today...you don't know what you missed by not growing up in an age where $3.97 would buy you one heck of a record album.  They were played on this thing called a "record player" and IF you were really loaded with money as a kid, you might get lucky enough to buy the early day version of a stereo system.  I'll never forget my first one...bought for about $20.00 at the local Gibson's store here in Hutch.  Had to save a lot of tip money from my job as a waitress at my folk's cafe...but I did.  By today's standards, it would be considered a child's toy but to the 16-year old girl that I used to be, it was a piece of Heaven.  


I drug all of those albums out tonight from the wooden crate I normally keep them in and took a look back in time to the 1970's.  Oh wow, what memories~Jim Croce, Harry Chapin, John Denver, Three Dog Night, the Moody Blues, Santana, the original soundtrack from Woodstock, Joe Cocker, Neil Diamond, James Taylor and my favorite group from all time, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and so many more.  There were albums in that box that I had long ago forgotten and it was kind of fun to at least see their beautiful yet very worn record covers and the inside jackets that the album always fit into.  Even though I no longer have any way to play them, there is no way on earth and definitely over my dead body, would I willingly part with them....no matter how much they might be worth to another.  

Going through the albums tonight at home with my very favorite album of all time, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Deja Vu".  Their music is still very appealing and any song they sang was great.  My favorite of all times, "Suite:  Judy Blue Eyes".


The 80's found me listening to REO Speedwagon, 38 Special and Phil Collins/Genesis.  The 90's, well about the only group I liked from there was Matchbox 20.  In 2000 and beyond...hmm, can't rightly recall any group or singer that I liked.  For this child of the '70s, there just was no other music that could compare to that of my generation so I guess that means I'm kind of stuck back there in the "land of long ago and so very far away."  Hey, not complaining because it would actually be a pretty good place to be stuck in.  Memories, inspired by the music, are very precious to me.  Would not trade my albums or the memories for all of the money in the world.  They are priceless.


I must say, I kind of like this idea of travelling light.  Think I could start to get used to it pretty dang quickly.  By the way dear friends, each of you out there...you are at the top of the "over my dead body" pile.  Wouldn't trade your friendship for anything and I most certainly mean it!  :)


Have a great evening my friends...Good Night!

Awaiting Friday's verdict

Looking forward (I think) to my return to the "land of miracles" this coming Friday for my scheduled 4 weeks out visit with Dr. Chan.  A lot is riding on this visit to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center and I'm anxious for the x-rays to tell the story of whether or not "old lefty" has properly healed enough for me to remove this wonderfully, beautiful, shocking pink splint.  I'm not holding my breath or betting my life's savings that it has.  All I can do is go and find out.


Today on day #200 since my accident last August, I feel fortunate to be able to remove the splint here at home.  As I type this blog post with ease, two hands working together, I can well remember all of the times I had to do this with one hand only.  Folks, I can tell you right now that was not fun!  But at least I could type one-handed and I tried to remember that during those times when it took forever and a darned day just to type a short blog post.


I know when I go to my dr. visit on Friday, that there is an outside chance that one last surgery will have to be done.  I'm not looking forward to asking Dr. Chan about it, but I figure it's better to just ask about it right up front and get it over with.  


A part of "old lefty", from the pinkie and ring finger down to around the base of my palm is still very numb.  Even with physical and occupational therapy, it has remained the same.  I've known for some time, heck I've known all along, that they might have to go in and take care of the ulnar nerve by doing something similar to a carpal tunnel release.  And if they do that, then it's back in a long-arm cast for another month.  I'm going to wait and see what the good doctor says and just go from there. 


Dr. Goin, the surgeon who did the initial emergency surgery here in Hutch on the day of the accident warned me that his surgery was only "the first of many that would be needed."  I guess my idea of "many" was the number 2....looks like I may have to double it or something.


My bike now stands on the indoor trainer and I've actually ridden it very little in the last month.  Somehow, I have just lost the heart for doing it.  To be right honest, I'm kind of fearful of taking it out on the street again, fearful of falling another time.  I'm thinking "old lefty" couldn't stand another accident like the one in August and for sure, I want "Red Green's hardware" to stay just where Dr. Chan put it.  I've been through too much to wish for it to be any other way.


So once again, I'm leaving the decision up to Dr. Chan as to whether or not he wants me on a bicycle again.  If he says "OK", then I will summon up the courage to ride again.  If he says "NO", then, well, I guess I've got one heck of a nice bike to sell.  


And you know, as time has gone on I have grown to appreciate the beauty of that last bicycle ride that I took.  Maybe it's because I'm beginning to realize that it might well have been my last one.  But man if it was then it was a perfect one, well at least until the end.


That was a delightfully cool early August morning.  After days upon days of record breaking heat and no rain, August 4th promised to be a respite from summer's unrelenting high temperatures.  A reading of "74 degrees" showed on the Medical Center "time and temperature" as I flew down the street heading south at 6:30 in the morning.  Everyone I passed seemed to have a smile on their face that morning.  It was if all of us had found the strength to feel "human" again after having to endure one of the hottest summers on record.


Heading south down Main Street, I came across my good friend and former student, Mike Fazio, as he was working at his job for the City of Hutch, hanging up the banners for the upcoming Emancipation Day parade.  I waved and yelled "hello" and just kept right on flying down Main Street with little worry about what was soon to happen.  


I took the bike path, only this time as I noticed some dark rain clouds building up in the south west, I decided to come off of it a little early.  I love a good shower, just not THAT kind.  I headed back up Main, stopping to talk a little bit with Mike about the chances of our riding bikes together again soon.  After that brief stop, I was heading home once again.


Right before I came upon 14th Street, I decided to make a detour and head over to 17th Street where I had been noticing a couple building a beautiful garden area outside of their home.  All summer long I had been meaning to stop and tell them what a nice job they'd been doing.  I figured that August 4th was as good a  day to do that as any, so off I went.


They were kind of surprised to see a woman on a bike come peeling into their driveway.  I stopped and introduced myself and we talked about 5 minutes about what they'd been doing and we were strangers no more.  The clouds were getting darker so I thought I'd better head on home.


With almost 10 miles on my odometer for the morning I felt good.  And for whatever other crazy reason, I was happily speeding along...really, going way too fast.  By the time I rounded the corner heading to home I glanced at my speedometer and saw I was going between 9-10 miles per hour.  Well, it's a little hard to make the turn into your own driveway going THAT speed.  So when I saw that I was going to miss it, I just decided to do what any normal "10-year old" bike rider would do....I tried to jump the curb and the REST is history.  


No matter what happens on Friday, no matter what Dr. Chan's final verdict will be, I'm grateful for everything that didn't happen to me that day.  And really, still grateful for what did.  Having a busted up arm for this long of a time has taught me so much about how I was looking at life and I'm telling you, the way that I was looking at it wasn't always the way I should have been.  The 4th of August  wasn't the best day that I ever had but thankfully it wasn't the worst either.  For these, the littlest of things, I do so give thanks.  


Good night friends!  Stay well and at peace....

The day I bought the bicycle that would one day take me on the most expensive bicycle ride in the world.  Hey, even knowing what I know now, I'd still do it all over again.  :)

Surviving Life's Scares

Growing up as "child #6 out of 7" on a farm in south central Kansas, I have many memories of my childhood days.   You know I'm not sure how it is that I come to remember any of them with so many years that have passed.  Yet, somehow I do and some of those remembrances feel so near to me that it seems only yesterday that they even happened.  


Being at the "bottom of the Scott Family totem pole" as far as age went in our family definitely had some perks.  One of the greatest benefits was that we weren't expected to do outside farm chores until we had reached the ripe old age of "third grade."  So on those cold, wintry nights when our 5 older sisters and brothers were out milking cows, feeding animals and chasing after pigs (in my opinion the stupidest animal on the earth), my little sister Cindy and I were in the nice warm house playing and watching TV.  Oh yeah, we little kids had the "life of Riley".


One cold and dark winter day, I can remember us playing in the house while Mom and Dad and the rest of our siblings were out choring.  Everything was going fine as we played away in the house until one of us looked outside and realized just how dark the early evening hour had become.  All it took was one of us to be scared and before you knew it, the other one of us soon became equally as frightened.  


You know, I remember that it seemed like they had been out at the barn for hours by that time, even though it was probably only a half hour or so.  But when a 5-year old and a 7-year old make up their mind to be "scared silly" it doesn't matter how long they have been gone.  What matters is that they ARE gone.  


Well, we did what any self-respecting "scaredy cat" little kid would have done.  We ran back to our parents' bedroom and threw open the window that would put us closer to the barn.  And then we started yelling.... "DADDY, DADDY HELP US, HELP US!"  We didn't let up until we heard all the commotion of people coming in from outside.


There standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand was our Daddy.  Sure that something had happened to us, he grabbed the first weapon he could find and burst into the house.  I'll never forget the look on our parents' face, when they asked us what was the matter.  Sheepishly I'm sure we replied, "Well, we were lonely.  We just missed you guys!"  


I'm thinking pretty sure that we both got in trouble and darned good thing we learned that lesson fast.  Pretty sure that Daddy put the baseball bat on the porch and children #6 and #7 probably warmed up a "naughty chair" for some time to come that evening.  And when I stop to consider it, now at the more mature age of 56, I have to wonder, "who was more scared, us or them?"


And speaking of scary, today was another swimming lesson.  But guess what?  It wasn't scary in the least~really not at all.  I looked forward to this lesson and the therapy it could possibly bring to "old lefty" as well.  For as frightened as I was when I was a 10-year old, today I was more than ready to get back into that pool.  I guess you could say that I've grown up a little!  :)  And you know, I think it's starting to show.


Once again the lesson was done in the 4 to 4 1/2 foot area of the pool.  Even though I was willing to attempt the 5 foot area, as we did last week, Laurie thought it would be better to work on some different kinds of things this time.  So for the next 30 minutes I practiced and re-practiced all of the skills that I'd learned thus far.  I can do a pretty fair face and back float now and of all things, Laurie said to me today that I've got a "perfect kick" while I'm face floating.  She said it's a "natural".  Imagine that, ME having a natural ability to kick my way across the water!  LOL, LOL And friends, she actually referred to me as a "fish" today....oh my word maybe there is a chance that I'll be known as "Peggy the fish" after all.  


I love the water now but I still hold a healthy respect for it.  I'm not ready to jump off a high dive yet but I'm still moving along.  Without the gentle prodding of my dear friend who encouraged me to learn to swim well enough to save my own life some day and the marvelous teaching of a woman named Laurie Carr, I'd still be on the "outside looking in."  Friends, that's one scare in life that I finally feel like I've started to get over.  And may I say, it surely does feel good!


How about you, have you had to learn how to survive life's scares?  I'm betting we all have at one time or another.  You know how it is....we're all going along minding our own business and then one morning in the shower you discover a lump or a sore spot that's not supposed to be there.  And the only thing you know to do is to call your best friend and say, "I need you."  Or maybe you are the worker who is just waiting for that infamous "pink slip" to be handed to you some Friday afternoon.  And THEN what are you going to do?  Some of us may be facing scares with health issues and we're just praying that the test results don't come back saying "positive" and the list could go on and on.


Tonight as I write this blog post, I'm thinking of all the people who have helped me survive my life's scares.  From my friends and family who have helped me through the dark days of being divorced, to the angels here on earth who have constantly picked up the slack for me as "old-lefty" healed once again, to the dear friend who was there for me when I went through a scary moment just this very morning...what would I have done without you all?

My friends, as we think about the hard times, the scary times in this life, we would do well to remember that they do not go on forever...they only seem like they do.  I'm betting that if we stick together and lift one another up each day by our actions and words, then life would be so much easier and the scary times much more tolerable to go through.  Good night friends and family!    

The five surviving Scott kids...front row, Child #4, Sherry St. Clair and Child #1, Kaye Wright

Child #6, Peggy Miller and Child #7 Cindy Daniels

Child #5, Dick Scott

at the Scott Family Reunion, July 31, 2011 at our family's hometown of Haven, Kansas

It took me back to summer

Every once in a while, I go back through my old blog posts and reread some of the things that I've written.  Kind of weird, there are some that I've forgotten about writing.  So when I sit down to read them once more, it's as if it only happened just yesterday. 


Last evening late, when I was unable to sleep much, I got up and started to read some from last summer, before the accident in August even thought of happening.  There was one in particular that made me pause and think, and I thought I might repost it here tonight.  So, if you've already read it...well, I guess it's just like a "rerun" on TV.  If you haven't read it, well I think I'd like you to see it tonight.  It was one that meant a lot to me as I wrote it...


From my blog post of Saturday, July 16th, 2011    
"Lesson Learned"


As far as I'm concerned, the "Miller Bucket List" taught me a very valuable lesson today about life and its brevity.  Item #5, "to see the most beautiful sunrise and sunset in the world" is now COMPLETE.  Take a look at the most beautiful sunset in the world over my hometown of Haven, Kansas.

Someone asked me one time, how would I know that I had ACTUALLY seen the most beautiful ones.  My reply to them was, "I'll just know."  Well, today, July 16th, 2011, I saw them and they were every bit as beautiful as I imagined them to be.


The saying "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", pertains to most anything, sunrises and sunsets included.  You might look at my two photos and say, "Nah, those aren't the best.  The best ones can be seen at ____________(fill in the blank with your own special spot of the world.)  But for Peggy Miller, these two will long be remembered by me as the most special ones I have ever seen.


Hey, here's where that "valuable lesson" part comes in.  I cannot remember one day in my 55 plus years of living that I have paid attention to and actually waited for the sun to come up and then set down again in the evening.  But today I did and the time spent between 6:20 a.m. and 8:50 p.m. this day went by so quickly.


I went to swimming lessons, complained about how hot it was, spent time with a special friend, continued to complain about how hot it was, did laundry, cleaned house, and made a trip to Haven....and dozens of other little things.  And the world kept turning and life just went on.  I had to wonder as I was driving over to Haven tonight, did I spend this day doing what I should have been doing?  My answer came back "yes".  If the truth were known, I don't think I could always say that.


As I was leaving Haven, I didn't realize how fast the sun would sink in the west.  I had to hurry to get any kind of shot before it was too late and man, isn't that how life is?  That's why I'm so frantically trying and diligently working on this whole list of things to do before I die.  I don't want to miss out on my chance.  And friends, I don't want you to miss out either.


So what was the lesson learned?  The answer is this--For the first time that I can remember, I didn't take everything for granted that came my way today.  I recognized it as the "gift" that it is.  All of us are given just "so" many minutes between the sun's arrival and its departure each day.   It's a reminder to live my life accordingly.


With a very thankful heart, I say that today, July 16, 2011, was a "great day to be alive."  I hope you had such a day as I did.  Have a good night's sleep Facebook friends and family.  Be ready for the next great day...it's coming up before you even know it!


My dear friends, tonight is no different.  February 17, 2012 has come and gone quickly today. Night has befallen us and my eyelids are getting pretty heavy, even IF it's only 8 p.m. :)  Did I live my life today in the way that it should have been lived?  I can only hope so.  Will there be a tomorrow for me to have yet one MORE do over?  That remains to be seen...but truly, I can only hope so.  


Wishing for you all much peace and joy in your lives and so very thankful that I might call you my "friend."  Take care of yourselves and one another.  Good Night!

The "partner" to the "most beautiful sunset in the world."......it was the "most beautiful sunrise in the world", as seen that morning from a view point along Eales' Road just south of Hutchinson.  As long as I live, I shall always remember it.

This could take a while.....

It's a long ways from my home on 14th Street here in Hutchinson, Kansas to the Portland Head Lighthouse in Cape Elizabeth, Maine.  Least wise it would sure seem so by looking at the map and positive that it will FEEL so in the driver's seat of my car.  But this June I am keeping my promise to myself that some day I would travel to the state of Maine and see a lighthouse.  I intend to drive every one of the nearly 1,800 miles to get there and when I FINALLY do make it, my dream of seeing that beautiful state and the "guardian of the sailors at sea" will have been realized.

For as long as I can recall, I've wanted to make this journey.  Yet, I always managed to keep putting it off for a thousand different reasons, NONE of them good ones.  So when the idea of the trip made it to my bucket list, I decided it was time to put it on the calendar for this summer and just make myself do it.


I've spent the past few weeks trying to narrow down the route I plan to take and get an idea of the kind of scenery I'll be seeing along the way.  The journey of, hey you might as well say 2,000 miles, will definitely take a little time....at least 4 days worth of driving.  I've kind of mapped it out the "old fashioned" way, using the atlas pictured above.  With Onstar guiding me all the way, I hope to make it there with few problems.  That, we shall soon see.

Allotting an entire 2 week period of time during June, should enable me to go slow and take it easy along the way.  There will be sights to see and things to do all along the route.  I intend to take advantage of as many as I can.  I decided to break the journey up into four days worth of driving, averaging between 440 and 470 miles each day.  So far, the driving itinerary looks as follows:


Day 1-Hutchinson, Kansas to St. Louis, Missouri
total miles-463 and the chance to finally see the Arch and the muddy Mississippi River as well as your pick of tasty bar-b-que places.  I also have many Facebook friends between here and Kansas City, MO.  I'd love to finally make the connection with them on my "way out of town"...So, to Mary Jo Kurtz and Dennis Ulrey in Manhattan, Eric Allam and Nita Grier in Lawrence, and Beverly Silvers and Claudia Pfannenstiel in the KC area...and heck, anyone else I forgot....perhaps shall see you all as well.


Day 2-St. Louis, Missouri to Columbus, Ohio
Total miles-417  I hope somehow along this route to meet up with my Facebook friend, Patti Stone who lives in Pennsylvania.  No idea yet where we may find one another, but find one another we WILL.  This will be our first time meeting as well.  Patti and I became friends when my son Grahame hiked the Appalachian Trail last year.  One of the things I like about Facebook is the opportunity to meet, at least in "facebook land" with folks you would never have met otherwise.  Patti, I have a feeling that you and I are more alike than not.  


Day 3-Columbus, Ohio to Owego, New York
Total miles-476  I'll be meeting up with my Facebook friend, Joanne Jones who is driving down from her home in Gouverneur, New York to meet when I arrive in Owego.  This will be our first time meeting~her wonderful son, Wade, is my daughter Ursela's boyfriend.  So we two "moms" are looking forward to knowing one another.  I don't know a whole lot about Owego, but at least on the map it looks like a place that would be welcoming to strangers.  It was voted "The Coolest Small  Town in America" in 2009 and with a population, according to the 2010 census, of 3,896 folks, well that's the kind of "small town America" that I'm used to.  Unfortunately, the community was hit with terrible flooding in September of last year when heavy rains caused the Susquehanna River to inundate the town.  Joanne, not sure what all we'll be able to do in a day's time but sure will be glad to meet you finally!


Day 4-Owego, New York to Cape Elizabeth, Maine
Total miles-433  IF I make it here in one piece...I will probably cry  :)  There will be several states to travel through, as I understand from others, that you just zip right through all along the way.  I'm used to the wide-open prairies of Kansas and the idea of going from one state to another in a relatively short period of time is rather mind-boggling to me.  I have the hopes of meeting another one of my Facebook friends, Wes Linscott and his good wife Anita, somewhere along the trail in Maine.  He's been a great help in sending me some of the sites that would be nice to visit...and to him I'm most thankful.  I also have a niece, Jessica Scott, in NYC who doesn't mind travelling to Connecticut once in a while as well as a dear friend, Ruth Ann French-Hodson who lives in New Haven with her family.  I am so looking forward to meeting up with old friends and new. 


With June 1st just a little over 3 1/2 months away, it's time for me to start figuring out the next item in the planning part of this whole thing....a different vehicle.  My Chevy Colorado pick up has been a good one for me but I really need something that gets better gas mileage out on the highway than it does.  I'll be glad for any and all suggestions anyone has. 


Kind of strange to see how fast the days are flying by and before you know it, June 1st will be tomorrow!  Having put this trip off for so long, it will hopefully be nice to see it actually "come to pass."  And as I said before, don't worry about me moving off to a place far away from here.  Kansas has always been and will always continue to be, my "home, sweet home."  Good Night!  

One of the greatest adventurers that I know, my son Grahame Hemman.  This photo was taken 2 weeks before he left for the Appalachian Trail last spring.  

Receiving my "come uppance" AGAIN

Friends, may I ask you-have you ever had to learn a lesson about life in the form of receiving a "come uppance" or two?  Nah, probably not~but I surely have and today I got one "ouch, that kind of hurts" teachable moment as I walked my mile route in the underground tunnel at Hutchinson Hospital.


You know, even before my accident, I was out there on a regular basis walking the path that leads from the basement of the hospital to the nursing home facility on the other side of the parking area.  If you walk a certain path, 3 times, then you will have gone a mile.  I love to walk there, especially in cold winter weather.  It's safe, secure, well lit, and best of all, there are absolutely no curbs to make you fall.  (that's the best part)


Lots of people take advantage of it, from the very young to the very old.  It is especially popular with the patients in rehab after heart procedures. Often you'll see them walking with a buddy and I applaud them in their efforts to get back some semblance of their former good health.  


And then, there's THAT guy...I've seen him walk for months out there.  A friendly guy, always smiling, giving a nice greeting.  And I always took pride that I could "out walk" him ANY day of the week. Deep inside of me from my most "smug" self,  I'd wave to him, say "Hi" and then just breeze right past him every single time.  It's a wonder that I didn't "throw a hip out" or something.  But I did it anyway.


Ok, I'm going to say this in the most endearing and loving way I know how to, I consider him an "old geezer" and I know that he would laugh at me and say that I was right, that he was.  Well tonight, that "old geezer" left ME in a cloud of dust, not only lapping me once but actually lapping me twice.  I thought "what the heck just happened here?"  I couldn't believe it and for once, it was him wearing the grin on his face.


The last lap, with me huffing and puffing with my out of shape self, he managed to come up beside me and actually slow down enough for us to have a conversation.  When he asked me what had happened to my arm, for just one brief moment in time I wanted to make up a "new" version of "old-lefty's" saga.


"Well, you see it was like this....I was in a surfing contest on the beach in California and I was doing so well...just about to take first place, when a huge wave came up and knocked me clean off the board.  My arm broke as I was fighting off a shark that was trying to get my board before I did!"  


"Oh I broke it last August 4th.", I said without telling the whole story.  


"How?" he wondered.


"Well, believe it or not, I tried to jump a curb while riding my bike." There, I'd said it~about as big a piece of "humble pie" that I'd eaten in a long, long time.  


With a little grin on his face and right before he sped away once again, he gave me a piece of advice.


"Well, promise be that you will be careful from now on.  Remember you aren't a teenager any more "Missy"." And with that, he was off and running.  And I was standing there bewildered wondering how that all took place.  I had just gotten "smoked" by an old guy!


The experience reminded me of what happened on the eve before Day #1 of the BAK last summer.  My son (Grahame) had hauled my bike and I out to the far western Kansas town of Tribune in anticipation for the start of the nearly 500 mile journey.  I decided that I'd like to do the "official first 20 miles" by starting out at the Kansas-Colorado line.  So after leaving all of my gear in Tribune, I had Grahame take me out to the border.


Nearly 1,500 miles of riding during 2011 had really strengthened up my legs, or so I thought :)  I was sure that if I could keep up a decent pace that I could be back in town in well under 2 hours.  So off I went heading east towards that grain elevator far off in the distance marked "Tribune".  My rule was this~No one was going to pass me!  No one....Well, that worked out pretty well for about 5 miles and after that, well things changed.  


When the first rider, a guy who was obviously much more experienced at riding than me, passed me, I determined that a new rule was in order~I would only let one guy pass me.  That actually seemed the way it would be until about mile 9 or 10.  That's when the first "old guy" passed me...and he didn't just pass me....he FLEW by me.  Geesch, before I made it back to Tribune I had to change my "rule" 5 different times until in its finality it sounded like this~I will ONLY let 5 guys and 2 old geezers pass me before I get back to Tribune.  Sounds kind of stupid on my part now...but then it was my motivation to keep on "trucking" back to town.  I guess a person has to do that from time to time.  :)  LOL


If I ever get my strength back, if I ever get back on that bike and "ride like the wind" I hope that this time around I'm more appreciative of all the folks out there trying to get some exercise during the course of the day.  Whether they go slow or fast, it matters not.  What does count in the whole scheme of things is that they are out there, moving their bodies along.  I've just had lesson #3 and no doubt there will be many more.  Friends, you know I've said it more than once, I'm a pretty slow learner.


And oh, by the way, in case some of my Facebook friends who are guys should be wondering.  I don't consider you guys old geezers just yet.  :)  You still have quite a ways to go!

"Camp Miller" on the eve of Day #1 of the BAK in Tribune, Ks.  The best 223+ miles I have ever ridden!  

Grahame had one heck of a set up in the back of the Colorado.  He was quite comfortable inside.  He spent the night in Tribune before leaving back for Reno County in the morning.  I'll never forget the feeling of seeing him pass all of us as we were riding out that morning towards Scott City.  I knew it was all up to me to get wherever it was that I was going now.  Pretty sobering thought at the time.  

When you "run to the roar"....

,It was inevitable and I knew it from the moment I opened my eyes at 4:30 this morning.  Today was a day to face my fear and head to the 5 foot water area, "THE DEEP", during swimming lessons.  And now that it's over, nearly 5 hours later, I can't believe I actually did it.


It felt nice to be back in the swimming pool at our local YMCA and trust me friends, you'd never have heard that kind of comment from me in years past.  The water was warm and there were only a few people swimming when I met my teacher, Laurie Carr, at poolside. 


We got right down to business at straight up noon.  The first question she asked me was what I'd like to work on today, face floating or back floating.  I wish you could have seen the look on her face when I gave her my reply.  It was priceless.


"I want to go to the deep end, to the 5 foot water," I told her.


I'm sure she remembered the extremely frightened woman who came to her in June of last year asking if she could take private lessons.  Laurie knew my story well~how I had a "near drowning" (oh my word) experience as a 10-year old on her first day of swimming lessons, of how I had avoided the water at all cost for the past 45 years.  She knew very well that it took nearly 5 lessons of coaxing and coaching me to even make it to the middle of the pool.  And now, I was actually asking her this?  


So the very first thing we did today was to go to the deep end.  Now before some of you die laughing about this "deep end" thing...well, wait a minute.  Maybe you aren't laughing after all, ok.  To me, anything over the top of my head is deep enough for me.  But it was there that my lesson began today.


Laurie had me wear one of the safety floatation belts that they sometimes use for people just like me.  About a depth of 4 and a half feet, I felt it begin to lift me up from the pool's floor.  That got a little unnerving to say the least.  I'm sure Laurie could tell by the look on my face, that my bravery was slowly slipping away.  No, let me rephrase that.  My courage was leaving me faster than you could say, "Peggy what in the world are you thinking girl, getting yourself in over your head?"  


She's a good teacher and she knows how to handle situations just like this.  With a calm and reassuring voice she asked me to just grab onto the side of the pool and she'd be right beside me.  She promised!  So that's what I did...For just a moment in time, I was that "little 10-year old" girl again, death grip on the side of the swimming pool back in my hometown of Haven, KS.  That same little girl who went home and said to her mom, "I am NOT going back in that water, and I MEAN IT!"


You know, I didn't want to die in the water that June day in 1965 and I kind of like living still today in February of 2012.  I was scared today, actually very frightened of the prospects.  But there was one thing different this time around.  Today I was MORE determined than I was afraid and it was determination that "won out".  And in the end, it paid off.


We stayed in the deep end as we practiced learning how to just tread water.  It was weird, and THIS time, I wish I could have seen the look on MY face when Laurie told me...."Look Peggy.  You're not even holding on to the side of the pool now!"  And you know what, she was right!  I don't know when I've felt as happy for myself as I did then, at that very moment.


I've got at least 3 more lessons to go and I intend to be at every one of them.  "Old-lefty" loved the water but got awful tired before the 30 minutes time was up.  I'm hoping to get stronger every time I go there, in both body and spirit.  It can happen, I know it can.


Thanks to my good FB friend and friend from the "land of long ago and far, far, away", Barbara Kincaid, for the inspiration for the name of this particular blog post.  I definitely did "run to the roar" today.  For all of the times I've avoided "the roar", I have regrets.  For 45 years I've been running from the fear of the water.  Today I turned around to face it, and said "what do you want from me?"  And you know what, that fear wasn't as big, mean and mighty as I thought it was.  


Have a wonderful Saturday evening my dear and special friends.  I'm still pulling for you all.

She just needed a little bit more time~well, ok a LOT more time.  And 
you  know what?  She only wishes her mom could have seen it.
   

Jim Croce - I Got a Name (1973)

There's nothing even remotely profound on my mind this evening...just thankful that the long week is over finally!  Been blessed more times than I can count or even remember, "old lefty" is sure trying to be on the mend, and come tomorrow at noon, I'll be back in the water again trying to figure out this thing they call swimming.  I have all I need in this life and then some!

Jim Croce was one of my favorite singers from the time of my high school and college years.  What a shame to have lost him, just like so many others, in a plane crash in Louisiana in September of 1973.  Every generation has their own "favorite" singers/musicians/song writers.  For me and my generation, children of the "70's", Jim Croce was one of them.  My favorite of his songs, but they were ALL good, "I've Got a Name".

Thankful to my folks for giving me MY name, Peggy Ann Scott.  That's who I will always be~Good night friends and may you have a great sleep with lots of good dreams.  The weekend awaits us....please enjoy every single minute of it.  You deserve it!

Upon taking this life too seriously.....

I was sitting there late this afternoon in "old lefty's" favorite spot in the therapy room~"the shake and bake machine", when I caught a glimpse of it on the wall nearby.  I couldn't help but smile when I saw it...

Seemed like the perfect thing for me to see on Day #190 of "old-lefty's" ordeal.  Kind of glad they chose the humerus because you know, "I found this ulna/and or/radius" just doesn't have quite the same zing to it.  Anyway, it made me smile and that is something I need to do a whole lot more of these days.


Friends, gotta ask you something, if you don't mind please.  Do you ever have those days when you take this life too seriously?  I mean the kind of day when you are so preoccupied with worry over what could go wrong for you that you forget about all of the things that went right? It happens to me all of the time, sometimes on a daily basis.  


At times this life can be pretty much overwhelming.  You know, you don't mean for it to happen that way.  You can get up in the morning, refreshed from a good night's sleep and head out the door feeling like everything is "ok".  But sometimes it doesn't take long for a day of bliss to turn into a day that you just wish was over fast.  Been there?  Done that?


Life's stressors have this way of overtaking us, sometimes burying us in a deep pile of stuff that has to be sorted through and dealt with each day.  Some of us may worry about where the next pay check might come from or how to stretch the one we already have.  Maybe we're concerned about our family members, how our kids are doing, how long will our health hold out for the good?  Perhaps it might be that major life decisions need to be made....like selling a home and moving away or retiring from a job that you love.  And here's one of my all-time favorites-VEHICLE TROUBLE.  As a single woman with absolutely "zero" mechanical ability, I can't tell you the times that I've had to deal with flat tires, dead batteries, brakes that needed replacing, etc., etc. And believe me when I say this, I'd much rather ride 20 miles straight into a 25 mph headwind on a bike than to have to figure out what to do when a vehicle won't start!


As for me, I know that I've been taking life a little too seriously since the accident happened last August.  Some days it seems as if I will never be better, never be dismissed from Dr. Chan's care.  But today when I was at therapy, things looked better.  They could tell I'd been working on my exercises and it showed.  One of the things I was happiest about was the measurement they found when I turned "old lefty's" palm over as far as I could.  Don't understand what the numbers exactly mean, but just a week ago, the measurement stood at 30 degrees.  Today I had graduated up to 45 and that was good news to me.  All of the other areas showed improvements as well.  The only disheartening discovery was of the strength of my hands...the right one stood at 50 but poor "old lefty" could barely eke out a miserable 15.  Guess there's a ways to go but I WILL get there.  I'm sure of it.  I realize that I have to start somewhere and the therapy room of the Kansas Orthopaedic Center is as good a place as any to accept that fact and keep "soldiering" on.


You know friends, I feel pretty blessed to go to work each day with a wonderful staff and over 250 of the greatest kids ever.  And it's those kids that, by their very comments, help me to step back and not take life quite so seriously.  I hear the dearest and sweetest of things every day coming the from the mouths of little people who truly mean no harm by what they say at times.  Things like....


1.(when I have a cough drop in my mouth) "Mrs. Miller, your breath stinks."
2.  (when I have a mint in my mouth) "Mrs. Miller, your breath smells really good."
3.  (when they see how long I've been in a cast) "Mrs. Miller, I don't think you should ever be thinking about riding your bike again."
4.  (when they find out how I got hurt that day) "Mrs. Miller, that wasn't a very smart thing to do, especially for an old person!"
5.  (when they learn I am divorced) "Do you want me to find someone for you?"  (LOL)
6.  (I guess when they realize I'm the oldest teacher at school)  "I just love your grandma skin Mrs. Miller."  oh and I can't forget the newest thing, "Do you wear dentures Mrs. Miller?  You know my grandma does."
       Hey, I've got a smile on my face just typing the words.  I've been taking this life way too seriously some days and my friends, it shows!


It's been a long time since August 12th last year.  That was the day of the "making of the peanut butter sandwich" fiasco.  It was the day that I put way too much merit in my lack of self-worth in assembling the "lowly" peanut butter sandwich one-handed.  Things couldn't have gone any worse and before it was all over, an entire loaf of bread and one jar of opened peanut butter had been splayed all across the kitchen floor.  What was I thinking?  Why on earth did I even attempt such a thing only a day after surgery?


Long story-short, didn't care about the "5-second" rule, I just threw the whole mess in the trash and sat down on the floor and cried and cried.  I cursed my stupid arm, an arm that only the week before had been perfect and whole.  When it was all over and I went to wash my face off at the bathroom sink, I looked at that pathetic woman looking back at me in the mirror and gave a little smile.  I knew then that life was just way, way too serious and things needed to be put in their proper perspective.  For those days that I do remember it, I am thankful for these the littlest of things.  For those days that I forget, well I guess that I'm only human.  Have a good evening my friends and remember to not take life so seriously.  It works out better that way!  :)

And I must say, right now from the "get-go", we have some wonderful artists that go to school at Lincoln Elementary.  I photographed this drawing made by one of our kindergarten students, a depiction of what someone might look like at age 100.   I think "she" is "me"...blues eyes and all!  If I only look HALF this good as a centenarian, then I should be most grateful.  So to whomever this little artist is at my school, I say "a job well done."  














   

Time to get back to the water.....

It was a year ago this month that I was visiting with a dear friend of mine when I mentioned the fact that I had never learned to swim and quite honestly was a "hydrophobic".  My friend was so shocked to learn that I had such a fear of the water that he immediately gave me this piece of advice~


"Peggy, you need to learn to swim well enough to at LEAST save your own life some day."  


Perhaps it was the way he said it, maybe it was the fact that I truly have a lot of respect for him and consider his advice to be sound and good, or I guess it could be that he's turned out to be one of the best friends I've ever had.  Whatever it was, I ended up signing up for my first set of lessons in late June last year at our local YMCA and actually finished them just a couple of weeks prior to my August 4th accident.  


My 45-year "boycott" of ever entering into the waters of a swimming pool came to a screeching halt last summer and when all was said and done, I was very much alive and well.  My irrational childhood fear of drowning gave way to the realization that the water could indeed be a "friend" and I liked it.  Surprise, surprise, surprise....I actually found that I liked it!


I came away with such a good feeling about it all that I was ready to take on the next 4 sets of lessons and would have long ago already completed them had I not broken my arm.  Except for a brief respite between surgeries in December when I was able to return for one lesson, I've not been in the water since.  But that is all fixing to change very soon.


Item #1 on the Miller Bucket List  is to continue in my quest to learn how to swim well enough to save my own life some day and during this month of February, I intend to do just that.  With the help of my swimming teacher, Laurie Carr, I'll be stepping back into the water once again.  When I finish those 3 lessons and enter the kingdom of  the "guppies", well, it's going to be feeling pretty good.


I would love to tell you that the next 3 lessons will be like bites from that proverbial "piece of cake", but pretty sure that's not going to be the case.  When my lessons stopped in December, I had found myself in the pool's middle, the 4 foot range.  Believe me, it took a lot of coaching from Laurie and courage from deep inside of me to leave the "safety net" of the shallow end of the Y's pool and even get to the middle.  


But the middle of the pool is NOT where it stops for me, and I know it.  Sooner or later, the inevitable is going to have to happen.  I'm going to have to get in "over my head" and that day is coming soon.  So, when a 5-foot tall "hydrophobic" has to finally inch her way closer to not being able to stand flat footed in the pool any longer, well we'll just see how it all turns out.  Getting a little anxious just typing these words.  :) 


As I stop to think of it, I've been in situations that were "over my head" many times in this life but that never seemed to stop me from doing things, so I'm not sure why this would be any different.  I guess the "seed of fear" was planted pretty deep within in me that summer of 1965 when I was positive that I was drowning on the very first day of swim lessons.  My refusal to deal with my fear only made matters worse and the end result was that I almost never went back.  What a waste that would have ended up being.  

You know I'll never forget that day back in June when I went to the Y to sign up for my lessons.  As nervous as I was, I dared to peek in through the window that led to the pool and saw the happiest looking group of senior citizens (and oh wow, am I EVER getting THERE fast!) doing water exercises in the deep end.  The looks on their faces were not filled with terror, no one's mouth was forming the words "Help me, I'm drowning!" They were having great fun, the time of their lives.  


And my friends, surely if THEY can have fun in the deep end, then so can I!  :)  I may NEVER be referred to as "Peggy, the fish" but it won't be for lack of my trying.  Have a great evening friends~be well!

                                                       "THE DEEP"

Paying a visit to the water tonight-I can't wait to get back in that nice warm water.  "Old lefty" will really enjoy it!  

It came back to bite me....

Finally got back a couple of hours ago from the "land of miracles"...my nearly "30 something" visit there since my accident now, 6 months ago tomorrow.  It wasn't the most fun dr. visit that I ever had, but gotta tell you, I knew it wouldn't be going into it.  Honestly friends, I should have started out this blog post with the words, "Good evening, my name is Peggy and when it comes to doing my physical therapy on my own,  I am a slacker."  At least I would have started it out with the truth.  Didn't take long for that to become apparent this afternoon.


Today's journey to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita was a planned one.  Three weeks ago, Dr. Chan removed the long-arm cast that I'd been wearing since my mid-December surgery. I got to come home with my beautiful neon pink removable splint and instructions to come back to see him in 3 weeks.  Before leaving that appointment, I stopped by the physical therapy department and visited with my old friend and occupational therapist, Kim Lockwood, aka-"Kim the taskmaster."  He took some measurements of my hand and wrist and reminded me of all the exercises that I had done with the previous surgery, telling me to start them up again on a daily basis and that I'd come back to see him after my next appointment.  I assured him that I would and IF I would have just done that, then you'd have been reading a different kind of blog post now.


Hey, for the first 2 weeks, things went "ok".  I dutifully did my exercises, massaged the scars with lotion, wore my splint "religiously" and was most careful when it was off.  I did everything I was supposed to do and tried to be "good", really I did.


And then, last weekend came and for whatever crazy reason, I just plain decided not to worry about the exercises any more.  I have no excuse, whatsoever, for my actions other than to say I had just had enough.  After 183 days of going through this stuff, there's no other way to say it except that I plain "gave up".  I wore the splint like I was supposed to, from time to time taking it off and resting my arm, but that was about it.  I would wake up in the morning feeling as if I had the hand of a 90-year old person...only I'm thinking that "190" would have been more like it.  The swelling was still there, the fingers and bottom of the palm still very, very numb.  By Wednesday of this week, I knew I was in big trouble and there'd be no way to hide my indiscretions from the "good" Dr. Chan.  Let me tell you, he spotted it right away and I knew I was "busted".  


My usual set of x-rays showed that everything is continuing to "knit" together.  "Eleanor's" bone is now probably nestled inside the new bone that my body is producing, the "Red Green" hardware is exactly where it was placed during the second and third surgeries.  The huge gap between the length of the ulna bone is slowly trying to mend together and for the most part things were good and Dr. Chan was very pleased.  


Then came the part I was dreading, my ability to turn my wrist over in a normal motion.  I didn't have to say anything to Dr. Chan, he figured it out in about 10 seconds and when he measured the degree that I could turn "old lefty's" hand over, he wasn't wearing his usual "happy face"~nope, I believe it was more like a very "frowny face".  Kind of like when your folks tell you to be in by midnight and you were sure that they said "12:30".


No better time than then to "fess up" and hope that he wouldn't yell too loudly at me.  Well, to make a long story short-I didn't get to come back home until I visited the friendly folks at the PT/OT department for some "tough love" for "old lefty".  And let me tell you, I felt a whole lot more "tough" than I felt "love" by the time I got through it.  It served me right~my laziness came back to bite me and I deserved every little bit of it.


Ellie, another very good PT/OT at the Kansas Orthopaedic Center, helped to evaluate my condition and work through some of the familiar exercises (well at least familiar to those who DO them) as well as to give me some new ones to try as well.  She did all the customary measurements, like how far my hand will bend backwards at the wrist, how far down my hand will bend forwards, and my VERY FAVORITE one of all, how far I can turn my palm over with my elbow tightly at my side.  


By the time she got to the end of my exercise regime and asked if I had any questions, she could tell how miserable, tired, and frustrated I was.  It not only hurt, it hurt BADLY.....Before I could even get out the word "wish" from the phrase, "I sure wish I would never have tried to jump that curb that morning" huge tears started rolling down my cheek.  It was embarrassing to me but at the time, I didn't care.  In the many weeks that I'd done PT there, I'd been able to get through it without crying once.  There had been many instances where the pain was excruciating but I always managed to "suck it up" and be all right.  Today, well today it was a "not so much" kind of moment.  And the greatest thing was this~Ellie and Kim understood and instead of scolding me for my lack of effort, they reminded me of just how far I had come, how much I had gone through AND that this wouldn't go on forever, it only seemed like it would.  


As I was leaving Dr. Chan stopped into the PT room and watched them working "old lefty" over.  I had always been curious as to what he felt my "new normal" would be and today I finally asked him.  He told me that he will be very happy,  most pleased, if I can just get up to 60 percent of my wrist's range of motion back.  Right now, according to my measurements today, I am sitting right at 35 percent with some ways yet to go.  


Then I got REALLY brave and asked the "million $$$" question~"We're not talking YEARS of recuperation, are we Dr. Chan?"  Thankfully, a huge grin came back on his face and his reply of "No, hopefully JUST months, Peggy."  


I gave him a hug and said to him what I ALWAYS tell him before I leave his office..."Thank you Dr. Chan for helping me."  And he answered me with the same thing he always does, every single time I see him..."Peggy, you can thank me by just getting well."  


And you know what Dr. Chan?  I think I'll do JUST that!

Every once in a while I just have to remind myself how far I have come~"Old lefty" at 6 months ago with the external fixator device, prior to the second surgery on August 10th, 2011.  I'm getting better every day because I never am going back THERE again.  Good night friends and have a wonderful weekend!

One four-letter word

A short blog post this morning (and oh yeah, I can hear a couple of my good friends laughing about the idea of me saying very little, LOL), about the power of "one word" spoken at JUST the right time. It happened to me last night, at "my" 5th Street Dillons Store and I'm still wearing a smile on my face because of it.  Here's why~


Because I'm a teacher and have seen literally hundreds of students over the course of the last 34 years, it's pretty common to go to the store and run into enough school kids to consider counting our "time" together as a regular school day.  It happens to me alot, it seems~if not at Dillons, it might be Wal Mart or the Kwik Shop or anywhere else you can imagine!  One of those "extra perks" of being a teacher is meeting some of the finest people around in the most unusual of places,  KIDS.


So last night, as I was standing there debating the merits of whether to buy "chunky" or "low fat smooth" peanut butter, it happened.  From the end of the aisle I heard it...."Hey, Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Miller!!"  I turned around to see them running towards me and instinctively I grabbed "old lefty" close to me (LOL) and shouted out a greeting to them.  


They hugged me as if we hadn't seen one another in ages, but really it had only been a couple of hours since we were all in school together.  That didn't matter to them, they were just chatting away as if there was no reason not to.  Suddenly, around the corner, I saw a woman coming towards us.  She was following all the noise, obviously their "mom".  The oldest of the sisters ran over to grab her by the arm and bring her to where we were standing.  And this is the where the power of one "four-letter" word was shown...


"Mama, come here!  I want you to meet her~She's Mrs. Miller from school.  This is the GIRL that teaches us how to read!"  


I thought to myself, "Did she just call me a 'girl'? Hey, holy moley, I think she DID!"  A huge smile broke over my face and as I looked into the mirror this morning, I'm still wearing it :)  That little child had no clue last night just how tired, worn out, and low this "girl who teaches her to read" was feeling.  I hadn't even made it home from school yet.  


"Old lefty" was aching badly, it was 6:40 in the evening for crying out loud and all I wanted to do was just get the heck home.  But there I was in Dillons, fighting the crowd and pushing my cart filled with way too many groceries and oh yeah, one other thing~BEING BLESSED by the "chance" meeting with two of God's little people. 


 You know, I probably have heard tens of thousands of words spoken in the last few days and most of them didn't even stick with me. Oh yeah, that must be why I'm always having to write stuff down these days, geesch!  But the kind and innocent thought of a little 8-year old kid who said to her mom, "this is the girl that teaches us to read" is still with me, verbatim, now nearly 12 hours later.  That's powerful!


I think this "teacher" learned a lesson about life while standing in Aisle 7 last night...and the lesson came from the heart of a small child...You will never know how much impact a word spoken for either good OR bad reasons will have on the lives of those you come across.  Gives new credence to the old saying, "Keep your words sweet~because you'll never know when you might have to eat them."  


So, my loving appreciation to that little girl who unknowingly and most innocently made my day end up so much brighter.  For these, even the littlest of things, I do so give thanks to God above. I accept them with a heart, wide open.

One of the finest "girls" that I ever knew~My grandmother, Catherine Brown.  This is her at age 100.  She lived on well into her 106th year~I hope that my "grandma skin" will be as soft as hers was :)  Have a good day everyone and keep in mind the power to "make or break" someone's day with only one 4-letter word~

reading the handwriting on the "closet" wall

I've been avoiding making  a decision for sometime now about a part of life that has always meant such a great deal to me.  After "old lefty's" predicament of over 6 months ago happened, I should have known it was time to decide.....yet in my state of "everlasting denial", I kept putting it off.  Today for some reason, it just seems the perfect time to make up my mind.  Maybe after I write this blog post, the decision I must make will seem the only logical and sane thing to do.  Here's hoping.


Those of you who know me well, realize that I am a CNA as well as a teacher.  It was certainly not a second career that I ever thought of doing prior to 2005, but economics necessitated my taking a second "part-time" job to supplement my teaching salary.  I know I'm not alone in this respect, having many friends who have had to do the same thing. To anyone who has every taken on two (or more) jobs at once, you have my utmost admiration and respect.


Because my mom was living in a long-term care nursing facility at the time, taking their "certified nurse assistant" classes, offered through our local community college seemed to be the smart thing to do.  So, in early spring of 2005, I found myself enrolled in the 12-week course that would eventually lead me to meet some of the dearest and most loving of friends that I've ever known in life, the elderly.


I'll never forget the day that I picked up the textbook for the class on geriatric care at the HCC book store.  I sat in my car and thumbed through the pages that told of all the things we'd be learning to do.  Wow, there was going to be a lot to learn~the proper way to assist someone in dressing, giving baths, providing oral care, keeping track of hearing aids, eyeglasses, and dentures, putting on TED hose, keeping the rooms neat and tidy and free from hazards of falling, assisting with eating and drinking, providing care for bathroom needs, and about a thousand things more.  


And oh yeah, before I forget, there was the LAST chapter in the book too. It was the chapter that most of us dreaded reading....the one on death and dying.  Friends, let me tell you, there's a very good reason that's the last chapter in the book.  But anyone wishing to become a CNA knows that is a part of the job that has to be done as well.  The sooner you can accept that fact, the easier the job will be.


Throughout my "clinicals" within the long-term care setting, I learned very quickly about what I'd need to know.  Without going into details, because you can only imagine anyway, I learned to do first hand nearly everything that book had taught us.  Some of it wasn't easy, some I never dreamt I could do.  But I did it, and friends, may I say that if YOU had to...then you could as well.  I tried to remember always that whoever I was giving care to was someone's little baby boy or girl once.  They might have been someone's father or mother, sister or brother, grandfather or grandmother, or someone's very best friend.  And even if they were NONE of these...they were still people who deserved the most basic of human rights~ to live their last days with dignity and respect.  Holding onto that belief, that attitude enabled me to become the best CNA that I could have been and I'm thankful for that.


I made many friends among the elderly in the 5 year time frame (2005-2010) that I worked as a CNA.  As a matter of fact, some of the best "friendships" in MY life have been made with folks at the very end of  THEIRS.  They taught me so many lessons from life, some that I had never even thought of like, how wonderful a nice warm and wet wash cloth might feel on a tired face~how tasty a dip of ice cream from the "outside" world could be~how refreshing a "spin around the block" in a wheel chair could be for someone who generally never saw anything beyond the four walls of their room~and how much a "treat for the senses" the effect that a hug and a kiss "good night" could have on a lonely person as they lay down for sleep each night.  That my friends, is the "power of the human touch" and we ALL need that!


The friendships that I made were sometimes very brief, a fact of life and "death" when you take care of people well into their 80's and beyond.  I knew that it would not be a good idea (at least on paper) to get too emotionally attached to the people I was caring for.  LOL, that thought lasted all of about 5 minutes.  I was blessed to take care of many of them in their very final days, their last hours of life.  


One of the greatest privileges that God has ever afforded me, was to be at the bedside of those good people as they took their last breaths.  I have been in the "presence of angels" many times over as I have sat beside the beds of those who are dying and what a peaceful and loving feeling that is.  There is no greater honor, in my way of thinking, than to provide the last acts of kindness, of caring for someone. By caring for them in the end, I was able to accept the fact that death is nothing to fear and what a blessing it truly is for those who are MORE than ready to return to their home in Heaven.   I'm glad that I learned that finally~


I learned quickly, with my feet "in the fire", how to provide "post mortem" care for those who have died.  As a matter of fact, on my very first night of clinicals, only one month into my training, the person I was taking care of passed away, right in front of me. Our teacher, being the wise nurse that she was, suggested that there was no better time than the present to learn what we needed to do.  And you know what?  We did it...and I have done so many, many times since.  And when it was all over, and my job as a CNA was finished, I have broken down and cried like a baby in my own sorrow and loss.  Friends, the plain truth is this...  I hope that there is someone there to cry for you and I as well when our turn to "go" comes around!  That will be our blessing my dear friends.  Least ways, that's how it looks to me.


Last night I opened up my "Fibber McGee's" hallway closet to put something away and that's where I saw them hanging up....12 pairs of uniform scrubs that have been waiting for me to return to my job as a CNA.  I haven't been able to do that kind of work since my accident in August and given the current situation in my recovery process, I'm sure that I won't be allowed to return to that kind of work again.  I think I knew it all along but just hated to admit it.  But being a CNA requires a set of two strong hands....and as much "old lefty" would like to, the strength may never come back again.  I would feel horrible if I tried to return to that job and caused an accident to happen for anyone I was taking care of.  I've know the bitter truth for some time now....and tonight I accept it-I will never be able to do the work of a CNA again and for that, I feel extreme sadness.


I stand firm in my belief that everything that has happened to me in this life, be it good or bad, has happened in accordance to "the plan" for my life.  Nothing happened by accident, nothing a mere coincidence.  For 5 years of taking care of, befriending, and loving all of the elderly folks that I've met, I do so give thanks to God above.  My life has been made that much the richer because of it.  To all that I knew, so very long ago...May they rest in sweet and Heavenly peace.  

My dear friend, Vera Ray and I at the Wheaton House on the Mennonite Manor campus in South Hutchinson.  This was taken February 2, 2008.  Vera passed away last year on February 2, 2011.  She loved life and she loved me.  I miss her very much still today.  

My dear friend, Katie Clothier and I at the Wheaton House.  Katie was a 4th grade school teacher for 42 years.  We had lots in common....and FINALLY I found someone shorter than I was.  Katie stood only 4 ft. 6 in. tall so I felt like a "giant" when I was with her.  She passed away only a few days after Vera did, February 8, 2011.  Oh, how I miss her and love her still.