Scooter Saga

Earl and I have always been dog people, but my limited mobility affected the kind of dog parents we wanted to be.  I realize there are docile, lap critters who need loving homes, but we've never been able to pull off sharing our life with small creatures.  Earl's not home full time and I consider myself lucky to navigate independently. Most dogs need more than I can fairly give, at a pace I can't manage easily.  Lucy's end game in 2011 was difficult.*  At nearly 14, her hip arthritis and bad knees kept her from getting herself to a standing position.  Earl had just broken his leg and was on crutches.  He couldn't help when she went down.  I was using a walker continuously and no help.  The three of us made a pretty pathetic parade. If not for a dog–loving, out-of-town friend, I'm not sure how we would have coped that last weekend.  Fortunately, she only had to help Lucy up. Lucy (1998—2011) Earl and I make do with the occasional dog f...

Zoe, our eight year old grand daughter, looked at me intently and asked, "Grandma, what do you do all day while Grandpa is at work?"  I truly believe that when a child poses a direct, well thought–out question, she deserves a non-defensive, well thought–out answer.* Being ready with just the right response, I said, "Uhhh.  Can I get back to you on that?" In all fairness, my hesitation was somewhat legitimate.  Like the sex discussion (apart from it not being my job) , I didn't want to give information she didn't ask about.  Zoe didn't need the blab, blab, blab about working inside vs. outside the home, men & women in employment settings, disability, ataxia, retirement, etc.  It's not the first time I've heard the "What do you do?" question, but most often, it's from a societally–influenced, internal voice.  Going somewhere else to work never needed justification.  Involving retirement/home/productivity may introduce an ...

Pacific Northwest Wine Country The Northeast deservedly promotes its beautiful Fall colors, but the Pacific Northwest is no slouch in the beauty department either.  Fortunately, we have an abundance of evergreen that keeps the landscape from becoming stark after the leaves drop.  The Portland area is close to the valleys of the Oregon wine industry.  It's lovely year round, but harvest time in particular, has become a worthwhile outing.  A favorite bicycling destination, Earl, Jason and friends go frequently.  After my diagnosis, I found myself missing the wine country adventures enjoyed by cyclists (whine, whine, wine) .  Like so many things, Skeeter provided an opportunity to bring that back in my life—with some adjustments. Our friends picked us up for a wine country day trip.  Fortunately, Skeeter is small enough to fit in most cars/SUVs, so we don't need to rent a truck.  Granted, frequent loading is required, but it doesn't seem ...

Something different—my first joint effort. Why I Blog? : schumant.blogspot.com Tammy Schuman I enjoy blogging, but never appreciated the varied ways it could be used.  As I mentioned earlier, I started journaling on my sister–in–law's recommendation and my musings morphed into a blog* (web log) .  Getting Skeeter changed my perspective and provided all sorts of laughable moments.  It was a compatible context for serendipity, my smart mouth, and learning to deal with a disability. While some people use blogs to vent, most people choose to inform others about their unique life experience.  I post when something happens or comes to me.  It's interesting the freedom you have when there is no salary involved.  A schedule of three posts in one week or only one in one month is not uncommon.   I have a friend who posted regularly to mark the impending birth of her first grandchild.  Initially, she used her blog to capture tho...

Saturday breakfast/ Sunday coffee Week day breakfast Dining out with friends is more work than it used to be, but a large part of the life Earl and I enjoy.  My winnie walker*, although less stable than more conventional walkers, is collapsible and more conducive to entering crowded restaurants.  But Skeeter, a motorized scooter with a small footprint, allows me into bars and restaurants as well, with some critical advantages.  I don't have to transfer to their chair, don't wobble, scare other patrons, and can have wine with dinner without worrying.  Since most restaurants have ADA–restrooms, I can generally manuever.  Life is good, providing I've accurately differentiated a "skeeter–restaurant" from a "winnie–restaurant", Winnie allows me to meet friends for breakfast at the "winnie–restaurants".  I feel confident that if the inevitable fall happens, I may be embarrassed, but there is help at hand.  Our 'Breakfast Club...

Searching for stability is an eternal quest for someone with a Movement Disorder.  We know intellectually it's not going to happen, but that doesn't stop us from looking.  An evidence trail of my search follows me—dirt, shoes, and scuffed baseboards.  The door jams in the house, my favorite place to hold, are grimey at about my shoulder height.  The housekeeper knows to wipe them down routinely and not say anything to me.  I was never a 'shoe–loving' person.  But seriously, I only have four pair that are safe to wear.  For those out there who consider that reasonable—never mind.  I suspect that if Earl were widowed, one of the first things he'd do is have the marred baseboards repainted.  Maybe not, but I would if I were him. Meant for grabbing When we remodeled, we had everything professionally installed and reinforced*.  There are plenty of safety bars in the house and I'm grateful for everyone of them.  I realize there are...

San Francisco Views I wouldn't call my earlier life 'big', but after my ataxia restricted my mobility, it definitely seemed less significant.  As I said in my first post*, getting Skeeter helped me expand a life that seemed much smaller than it was pre–ataxia. Party–sure It's so tempting to opt out of activities because it seems like too much trouble.  Then there is sensible opting out because going is too much trouble and just plain stupid.  I've done both, made some mistakes, but try to avoid the former and observe the latter.  Parties, tours, hillside viewing.. .(sure, sure, no thanks) . Tour de Tiburon Skeeter was an important part of our recent trip to the bay area.  I couldn't have participated in many things, if not for her (at least, within a reasonable time frame).   Another big part was Earl —disassembling, loading, unloading, reassembling the scooter anywhere from three to ten times a day.  Good news–he's a strong ...

Living where we do is like living in a nature park.  In fact, Tryon Creek Park is adjacent to our property; we do live in a natural setting. Before being diagnosed with ataxia and working away from our home, I took my living environment for granted.  Now that I'm home most of the time, it is my serene refuge.  Lake Oswego has its own mayor, city council, and small town identity, but it's really a suburb of Portland—only fifteen minutes from downtown.  It just feels like we're out in the country.  While we consider ourselves exceptionally fortunate, there is a downside to living here.   Hey–the Schumans are out of town. We're surrounded by quiet, beauty and lots of upkeep.  Whoo, boy!  I thought I was high maintenance.  Our property makes me feel relatively low cost.  The front lawn is mostly flat and enjoyable for kids and dogs to run on, play, and chase frisbees.  It's also very attractive to the local mole famil...

Disclaimer: The daisy helmet is a Google Image graphic.  I have not gone 'over the edge'—yet. Another symptom of ataxia is diminished fine motor control.  Once I had excellent penmanship, now I can barely write*.  Fortunately, I retired from nursing before the loss of fine motor movement began to noticeably manifest.  I was never a good keyboarder but, since word processing takes so long now, it's helpful to have time and a spell checker.  I can't play the piano now, but I never played before, so that was no big loss.  My grandchildren print, color, paint, and cut better than I do.  "That's OK, Grandma..I'll do it." they say delightedly. I was on the lookout for a creative outlet that didn't make me look bad or threaten my well–being.  Painting was out–required talent and good hands.  I was never very skilled at gardening and falling in the dirt didn't have much appeal.  Everything else seemed to require hand/eye coordination....

As I've said before, Skeeter affords no direct exercise.  She is, however, an effective 'enabler' in that she keeps me off the floor.  When you have ataxia, that is no small deal.  Nonetheless, I could tell that the predictable neurological progression was gradually diminishing my leg strength.  A big fear is not being able to get out of a chair.  I've learned that some loss is beyond my control and some isn't.  Fortunately, I don't have to deal with persistent chronic pain or nausea.  At the risk of sounding pollyanna–ish, they are far more debilitating than weakness and loss of balance. I am surrounded by people who, although possibly experiencing a decline in muscle mass for one reason or another, keep their bodies in motion.  They run, walk, bike, participate in sports, garden, or chase after small children.  My heart is with them—my lower body, not so much.  It's OK, really.  Sometimes, I'm content to stay home...alone.....