Scooter Saga

Back in Lake Oswego, Earl and I were happy to resume our routine.  He was driving, walking, biking (a bit different now) and I was scooting on my 'new' Skeeter.  I don't think I had realized that there was some deterioration going on.  The speed going up hill had declined.  There was definitely more zip in the new one.   It had been nearly a year since Earl got his new hip*.  The bike accident primarily damaged the opposite side, so the hip prosthesis stayed in place.  He went in for the one year post–operative visit and was given a clean bill of health by the orthopedic surgeon. I was back to meeting my friend for Sunday coffee**.  We catch up on our families, current events, etc. and then I blissfully scoot the mile home, listening to music on my phone.   "What's Earl doing today?" she asked. "He's going for his first group bike ride.  Yay, Earl.  It's been a long uphill recovery." I'm halfway home when my phone pauses

Earl was a dedicated, but realistic convalescer (is that even a word?)    He reluctantly cancelled a bucket list adventure to Borneo in the Spring, knowing he wouldn't be able to meet the hiking requirements.  It was a difficult, but reasonable decision. Determined to get back in biking condition within a year, he signed up for the Gran Fondo Whistler ride in September with a friend.  She too, had been hit by a car on her bike, had surgery on her injured shoulder, and eventually recovered to ride another day.  In fact, she had become one of Earl's mentors through this ordeal.     We headed back to Maui for most of March.  Tropical warmth feels better than Northwest rains to a healing bone structure.  This time Earl could walk and lift, so we were able to resume most of our usual routine.  We weren't going to run the risk of losing luggage this time*.  Because his shoulder was still weak however, I wasn't going to "latch on".  But the airline staff was

We had spent the early part of December in Maui and returned home to enjoy Christmas.  We still wanted to host a traditional holiday dinner with friends and family, but were short on preparation time.  Much to one of our grandchild's dismay, we approached the holidays in a more casual way. Pam, the décor elf recycled some silver decorations from past years, added stars and created a lovely scaled down theme.  Like the good elf she was, she crept out while I slept*.  We thought about having a smaller tree.  Earl loved the idea.  My time had come — the tree Nazi was going down**. "But Grandma.  You need a big tree!" she said determinedly. "OK.  How about lights and no decorations?" I replied. Earl was wise enough to stay out of that fight.  He stood back to see who would prevail.  It was tough, but the two holiday dictators (grandmother and grandchild) managed a compromise.  My holiday tree elf* provided a big, well lit tree without decorations.  An

After Earl's bike accident in September*, enough healing had occurred (sort of) to allow a return to the warmth of Maui. He could sit and walk, but he still was protecting the injuries in his upper body.  Fortunately, we had friends and family accompanying us to do the 'heavy lifting'.  What heavy lifting, you say? Putting carry ons in the overhead compartment was one of those things he couldn't do at the time.  Flight attendants are always willing to help roll, but are prohibited from lifting, so we brought part of  'the village' with us. Ordinarily, Earl and I never check luggage.  We have our routine for getting on and off an airplane with minimal assistance from others**.  Usually, Earl puts his backpack carryon on his back, I latch on to his sho ulders and he walks me to our seat.  Then he lifts the carryons into the  overhead compartment   ( not this time) .  We're always the last people off the plane, I latch on to Earl's shoulders as far as

It's been a long 10 months since Earl's bicycle accident on the highway in Maui*.  The accident affected him in w ays other than the physical injuries.  Not that we needed another lesson on how life can turn on a dime, but I thought we had that one down.  Little did we know, there was more for us to learn.  Where I've had almost 15 years to adjust to disability, this was a foreign experience for him.   Making the adjustment from caregiver to an injured person was hard.  Earl had spent the last decade being my primary caregiver  and felt bad about not being able to that.   Tammy: "Like you did this on purpose?  Last I heard, you were going for a bike ride and minding your own business." My experience with disabilities ended up being fortuitous.  Having different deficits made the tag team approach to tasks more doable – pathetic looking, but doable.  Being wheelchair bound and no longer concerned about balance when seated, made it easier for me to transport th

"Tammy, have you written a post lately?  Did you take me off your list?"    I knew some friends really wanted to know if I was among the living, but were afraid to ask.   Spoiler alert:  I am alive and there is no list.   When questioned, I tried a variety of excuses, but they never rang true.   –Was there nothing new to say?   Unlikely.  The last post was September 2018 "The Maui Event"*.   It's been quite the year since Earl's bike accident – Was I traumatized, anxious, worried?  Probably not.  It  wouldn't help anyway.   Besides,  I'm t oo superficial.   –Were my 'sharing' days over?   No one would believe that –Was I too busy?   Come on!  It may take me awhile to do things, but it's not as if my dance card is full. –Did I have 'writer's block'?   Oh puh-leeze!  Given the structure of a blog, that seems a bit presumptuous. –I didn't have any photography.   Really, Tam?  That's a reach and a real  lame ex