Day: January 14, 2019

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I Love Me My Capes!

Baseball Bow Tie o’ the Day tells you I’m ready for Summer to get its butt here ASAP. It’s not just the cold. It’s the mud. Skitter brings mud into the house every time she comes in from pottying. I have to dust pan and Swiffer at least three times a day. It’s not as if I can tell Skitter to remove her paws before she enters the house. And training her to wipe her feet ain’t gonna happen.

The most important part of this post photo is clearly my newest Suzanne-made cape. The clash it adds to my shirt, tips the scales way over the clash-snappy limit. I win. Whatever the fashion competition, I win. My cape is a superpower all by itself. I haven’t had it long enough to have determined exactly what superpowers it gives me, but I’ll let you know when I find out.

I can say for sure that when I wore it in MCR last week, a few residents did stop in mid-sentence to gaze at its billowy, unfurled-ness as I passed through the halls. It at least has the power to cause momentary speechlessness.

The cape didn’t make Mom one bit speechless though. She complimented the cape, then she went on and on about what a talented seamstress Suzanne is. There I was, in person, with Mom in her room, after driving 2 1/2 hours to visit her, and all Mom could talk about was Suzanne. Of course, all I talked about was Suzanne too. And Skitter. We talked about Skitter, who Mom couldn’t quit petting.

Skitter had to get used to my capes when I began wearing them a few months ago. They whoosh around as I walk, and they are large compared to coats. Occasionally, a cape hem brushes across Skitter’s back. It frightened her at first, but she learned to tolerate it. She tolerates the entire cape thing now because she has no choice .

I usually wear a coat when I take The Skit for her walkies. But for the rest of the outside world, I wear a cape. When I drape a cape on my shoulders, she knows she’s not going anywhere (except when we visit Mom). When I put on a cape to go out alone or with Suzanne, Skitter puts on her I-know-I’m-not-invited, pouty face. I think Skitter blames the capes for her being left alone– as if they’re my new pets and I’m taking them for secret walkies without her. Perhaps Skitter needs her own personal cape to wear, and to play with when I’m not home. I’ll speak to Suzanne, the resident seamstress, about that.

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I Can Lift Big Books

I threw on this bookshelves Bow Tie o’ the Day in order to sit down to breakfast. These dictionaries and thesauri are my metaphorical meal. I am eating my words about how I didn’t think physical therapy for my rotator cuff would do anything except prolong the time I’d have to be in pain until the insurance company would ok some surgical repair of the damn thing. I didn’t hold out much hope for PT to make the pain in my shoulder livable. PT was painful and debilitating. At first. Although it began oh-so roughly, it has begun to help– enough to put off the surgery I and those in charge of my rotator cuff were sure would be happening about now.

I know myself pretty well– the good, the bad, the ugly. And one positive thing I can tell you about me is that I am quick to apologize when I’m wrong. If I’m wrong, I like to know. I don’t care about my ego. Saving face doesn’t matter. Being right for the sake of being right doesn’t appeal to me. I’d rather be corrected than pretend that the truth isn’t true. “Dear PT, please accept my apology for treating you like you were useless. You are not.” Apology given.

I’m crossing my fingers my PT regimen buys me at least another couple of years with my crappy old rotator cuff. If my shoulder pain doesn’t get in the way of me getting through a normal day of living, I won’t fuss about it. I won’t press the issue. I will keep doing my incredibly complex exercises like “the shrug.” Yes, I have to shrug. That’s a big part of my regimen: shrug, relax shoulders, shrug, relax shoulders, and so on. Hey, who am I to argue with it? It seems to be helping.

Now about this photograph: First, I want to emphatically declare I LIKE BIG BOOKS AND I CANNOT LIE.

Second, these different editions of the same information were milestones in my recovery from surgery. They are variations of The Oxford English Dictionary, which is the authority on the English language: spelling, meanings, origins, etc. There was a time in my life when I wanted the complete version of the OED, but I would rather own a house. I had to decide between one or the other. The official, complete OED is 120 volumes long. That would be an extravagant, indulgent purchase. Instead, I have a few much smaller versions that do the trick of aiding me in my serious writing.

After my surgeon stole 2/3 of my pancreas at Huntsman at the end of June, he told me I was forbidden to lift anything over 1-2 pounds for a couple of months. The tiniest Compact OED set in this picture weighs 2 pounds, so after a week or so, when I felt like writing again, I could lift them and use them, with only the slightest pains. OED Milestone #1. Score!

After the third week of my recovery, I figured it would be okay to pick up the the one-volume Pocket OED Dictionary/Thesaurus edition, which weighs 3 pounds. (How large must a pocket be to hold this Pocket OED?) I began using the book within a month of my surgery. Lifting it resulted in only a tug or two in my gut. OED Milestone #2. Score!

I wasn’t quite sure about graduating my lifting limits to the two-volume Compact OED Dictionary and OED Thesaurus. Each of the volumes weighs 4 pounds. I played it conservatively and didn’t pick them up until the end of the second month of my recovery. Just a strain or two in my gut. OED Milestone #3. Score!

And now, the two-volume New Shorter OED. Each of these volumes weighs in at a touch over 7 pounds. I was hesitant to pull these off the bookshelf long past the time I’m sure I could have done it without causing damage to my innards. Despite having conquered the smaller editions by the end of the second month of my convalescence, I held out picking up these tomes past the four-month mark. But I finally began freely using them in October, resulting in just a pinch of a pinch in my gut. Milestone #4. Game! Set! Match!

And yes, I do need and use every one of my OED reference books..