Surviving a Pandemic

To use the word “surviving” regarding the current pandemic while living in a large, beautiful home near the beach with a waterfall in the backyard is a gross  misrepresentation of my current situation. Actually, our lives have changed very little in the last few months. We write and I edit. We do this at home, even during “normal” times. Instead of eating in restaurants, we have been ordering meals delivered from our favorite local places. We want them to be here when we can feel comfortable about going out again. (We’re not there yet.)

I do miss seeing my friends in person. I miss being able to hug people. I miss attending church. I miss taking long walks at the marina. However, for my safety and that of people I care about, I will be doing none of these things for quite a while.

I will continue to connect with friends on Zoom, Skype, and by phone. Not the same thing as being together in person, but it works for now.

I was not alive for the 1918-1919 Spanish Flu pandemic, but my husband’s great-uncle died in the second wave in the late fall of 1919. His family was greatly affected. Larry’s dad’s cousin came to live with his family when their grandfather died as well.

In 1957, Larry attended he Boy Scout Jamboree at Valley Forge. Nearly every attendee contracted the Asian Flu—boys and adults. They left the jamboree and spread this disease throughout the country. This was the second pandemic of the twentieth century.

Polio was the third. A classmate, Al Ferguson, is currently writing his memoir. He gave me permission to share his experience with the polio pandemic with you.

My sister, Betty, was learning classical piano. She couldn’t play without sheet music. She got angry with me when I ran by and snatched her sheet music from the piano, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Often, she evened the score, though. It was all in fun as we really cared about each other.

When she was six years old, Betty came into the front room one summer afternoon using her favorite baton as a cane. I had seen her play that way a few days earlier. Mom told her to put the baton away and get ready for dinner.

Betty didn’t do it, and I remember Mom being stern. “Betty Jill, go put that baton away, and come to dinner right now.” Becoming frustrated with her, Mom took the baton away, and Betty fell on the floor crying. I don’t remember much from when I was ten years old, but I remember this day. The ensuing days are foggy.

I remember going to White Memorial Hospital in L.A. with Betty and my parents. The doctors informed them that Betty had polio. If I close my eyes and think about it, I can see the tears on Mom and Dad’s faces, which I had never seen before. We sat in the waiting room while the doctors took more tests. We heard Betty scream as they performed a spinal tap on her. Mom was crying and Dad consoling.

After all these years, it is something I will never forget. I can almost hear her screams now.

Our family now stood on the threshold of an unknown, lifelong struggle. Sleepless nights and uncontrollable crying became our norm. Polio, an entity whose only purpose seemed to be the destruction of a young life, became our constant companion.

Betty’s polio was confined to her left leg. She began a strict regimen of exercises day after day, year after year. We had several hospital-style hot packs. We took turns applying them to her leg. In those days, there were no microwave ovens, so we had to boil the hot packs in a pot of water on the stove. When they were hot enough, we removed them from the pot with tongs, placed them in a towel, and then rolled them up to keep them hot. Then we covered her left leg with them. Once her muscles were loose, we took turns exercising her leg and foot by pushing on her foot to stretch her Achilles tendon while she lay flat on her back. Afterward, we applied lots of lotion to keep her skin from drying out.

Then, there were the leg casts. Lots of them through the years. They stifled her leg growth by about twenty percent.

Betty became used to the rough regimen and went along with the program. No doubt about it, this was rough on everyone, but mostly Mom. She’d had a tough childhood, which had made her really strong.

Betty missed a lot of school, and, being home all the time, developed a love of books and playing her piano. She caught up with her grades, eventually graduating from high school.

She married her love and moved to Phoenix, becoming head of the medical library at Good Samaritan Hospital. Betty and Tim never had children, but they each had their own airplanes, and Betty became president of the Arizona Pilots Association for one term.

Years went by where Betty became more sedentary, and the lack of exercise finally got to her. She passed away at sixty-five after Mom had died. Thank God, as Mom would have died from guilt and depression. Miss them both.

I have known several people who also recovered from polio, but they continue to experience problems directly related to the disease.

So, comparing the current situation is far cry from earlier pandemics as long as we all take the necessary precautions. Staying home, wearing a mask when out in public, and staying six feet apart are hardly the same as watching family members suffer and die or caring for family members as Al did.

I am very grateful to be living today when everything we need can be delivered safely to our doorstep, I am thankful we have work to keep us occupied. I appreciate being able to call and talk with friends and family. I appreciate social media where I can remain in contact with my broader circle of friends.

You won’t hear me whining!

Jamboree Mulligan

Today is Millie Stratton’s 102^nd birthday. In her honor, we had Jamboree Mulligan for lunch.

This recipe came from the Boy Scouts. Larry attended the 1957 BSA Jamboree in Valley Forge. All the troops made Jamboree Mulligan. Millie’s husband, Jack, was one of his leaders, so I always think of them when I make it.

Larry’s other leader was Don Nafius. Don was an excellent cook. He tried to teach Larry how to make this dish to pass his cooking badge—three times. Don finally passed him, despite his third failure, if he promised never to cook again. Larry agreed.

It took him years, but he now cooks a bit. His specialty is breakfast. Our Japanese kids always expect him to make breakfast when they visit. They were very surprised that he cooked at all since Japanese fathers generally don’t.

I remember Millie’s daughter saying she could easily become a vegetarian except for Jamboree Mulligan.

It is definitely a 1950s dish. Here’s the original recipe. I think I got it from Millie.

1 lb. ground beef (I substituted ground turkey.)

1 onion, chopped (Larry can’t eat onions anymore, so I used some dried onion.)

1 can condensed tomato soup

1 cup uncooked egg noodles

Brown onion and ground meat while bringing water to a boil in a separate pan. When it's boiling, add noodles and boil for ten minutes. Add soup and cooked noodles to the meat/onion mixture. Heat through.

That’s it.

Still tastes about the same as I remember.

So, we lifted our forks and toasted Millie on her special birthday.

One more story from the 1957 Boy Scout Jamboree:

In 1957, a new influenza virus emerged in Asia, triggering a pandemic—Asian Flu. One of the troops brought it to the Jamboree and infected most of the boys and leaders in attendance. Larry was so sick they left him behind in a hospital for a couple of days while the rest of his troop moved on. Then, he caught up with them when he improved.

Of course, all the kids and leaders spread throughout the country, infecting their families and friends.

So, today the circumstances seemed entirely appropriate for bringing back the Jamboree memories.

I just finished the first pass at editing Millie’s memoir. Getting excited about seeing it finished. She has spent a lot of time since 2012 writing it—in lots of bits and pieces. The challenge was going through all of them, reviewing them for duplication (and there was lots of it), putting the stories into some sort of order, and then editing it. It contains lots of family history as well as the history of Alhambra, California during her lifetime.

So, happy birthday, Millie!

WITH A LOT OF HELP FROM A FRIEND

My guest this week is my favorite mystery writer and good friend Marilyn Meredith. She has a brand-new book in the Deputy Tempe Crabtree series called End of the Trail. She’ll tell you all about it.

My latest Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery, End of the Trail, is now available on Amazon in paperback and on Kindle. The friend who made it possible was none other than my host for today, Lorna Collins, who did the editing and publishing. A big thank you to her and her hubby, Larry, who designed the cover.

When I started writing this book, I had lots of ideas of how it should unfold. However, when the coronavirus struck, it became harder and harder for me to write. I had plenty of time but lacked motivation. Not because I was worried about getting the sickness, but because the venues where I had planned to promote this book and others started to cancel their events.

The best part of any writing conference, or other such gathering, is seeing old friends and making new ones. The first event canceled was writing conference put on by Writers of Kern. Bakersfield is an easy drive, they had some great speakers lined up, and I paid for a table to have my books on display. It was scheduled for March.

The second event to go was a conference put on by the Central Coast chapter of Sisters in Crime. Because I’d already made hotel reservations, they offered me the opportunity to be their guest speaker at their regular meeting which they planned to hold the same day. When their meeting place, a library, closed, that was the end of that.

I’ve already received notice a book fair I’ve attended regularly scheduled in October will not be happening this year.

I’m still hoping other upcoming events written in on my calendar will go ahead as planned.

So, I guess disappointment was my biggest hurdle to finishing End of the Trail. Encouragement came from Lorna as I sent her the manuscript, which certainly helped.

Now that it’s published and available in paperback and for Kindle, I will find other ways to promote it.

Here’s a short blurb:

Deputy Tempe Crabtree joins the search for a missing hiker which results in a murder investigation, a near death experience, an unexpected rescue, and an unhappy ghost.

An important P.S.: Lorna Collins, the ghost hunter, makes an appearance in The End of the Trail.

Marilyn Meredith is the author of over forty published books. She lives in a mountain community, much like Bear Creek, the one where Deputy Tempe Crabtree is the resident deputy. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys being with her family.

A Long Time Coming

Sometimes books seem to write themselves quickly. At other times, they may take years. This is the story of one of those.

In 2009, our Aspen Grove Romance Anthology, Seasons of Love, was published. Four authors participated in this one, including Luanna Rugh. (She contributed to all six of the anthologies.)

She began to write a terrific story with one of my favorite openings. However, it became apparent this one had a much longer story to tell than the novella format of the anthologies. So, she set it aside to expand into a full-length novel at a later time.

She wrote “Summer’s Challenge,” a different story, which is included in the anthology. (Seasons of Love is currently being produced as an audiobook. It is available on Amazon in print and ebook forms.)

Also, in 2009, the memoir she wrote with her husband, Promises Kept: How One Couple's Love Survived Vietnam, was published to much acclaim. (It went on to win several awards and continues to sell well among veterans of the Vietnam War.)

Luanna continued to write the anthologies with us while her original story for Seasons of Love languished.

In 2016, while writing a series of short stories she intended to turn into a collection, she began writing a charming story about a puppy who brings two strangers together. This, too, grew beyond the original short story, but she kept on with it until the book was completed. Her first solo work, Love From the Sea was published in 2016. (The dog on the cover is the Rughs’ dog, Gina. She died not long after her big photo shoot, and they are delighted to have her as their cover model.)

Other projects occupied Luanna, but in about 2018, she decided to finish her aborted story, set in Aspen Grove, Colorado, our fictitious town in which the anthologies are set. She brought chapters for review by our critique group, and everyone agreed it was a good story.

However, she had a hard time writing the emotionally difficult middle of the book, so it went back on the shelf.

Finally, I told her she had to finish it. The story was too good not to do so!

I nagged and prodded until the manuscript was finally completed. This week, her book, Up in Flames, was published.

This one features a scarlet macaw, a dog, and a little boy. There’s also a grouchy fire captain. It is a charming story, just as it was when she started it eleven years ago. Here’s a taste:

“Nine—one—one. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Our bird’s stuck in a tall tree.”

“Young man, this number is for human emergencies only.”

“It is. Honest, lady. My mom was trying to get our macaw down. Now her foot is caught and she’s stuck in the tree, too. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Find out for yourself!

About the Author of Up in Flames:

Luanna Rugh met the love of her life, Len Rugh, while working at a local restaurant in Southern California. A year and a half after their marriage, Len was drafted and sent to Vietnam, where he was critically wounded. Together they wrote their award-winning memoir, Promises Kept: How One Couple’s Love Survived Vietnam, a project which took over twenty years to complete.

She co-authored the Aspen Grove romance anthologies: Snowflake Secrets, Seasons of Love, Directions of Love, An Aspen Grove Christmas, The Art of Love, and …And a Silver Sixpence in Her Shoe.

Her solo works are Love From the Sea, where a dog plays a major role, and Up in Flames, set in Aspen Grove, where another dog and a scarlet macaw are lead characters.

She hopes you enjoy reading them as much as she loved writing them.

Guest Blogger Shirley Skufca Hickman

This week, my guest is Shirley Skufca Hickman. I have been blessed to have edited several of her books and have enjoyed them very much. Welcome, Shirley.

I love books. When I was seven and living in a Colorado coal mining town during World War II, I told myself I had to remember what I was experiencing so I could write a book about it when I was older.

I kept my promise, and as an adult, I wrote my first memoir, Don’t Be Give Up, about the war from a perspective of a child.

Everything in our lives was affected by the war, the rationing of food, clothing, shoes, gasoline, and candy, but the most terrifying days were seeing my uncles go to war and not knowing if they’d ever return. Luckily, they did.

One of the most gratifying aspects of writing this book was long conversations with my uncles. I never knew my Uncle Johnny had seen horrors of the Jewish concentration camps. He had never told anyone until we talked about the war. He wanted me to include his experiences so people would never forget the Holocaust.

When I asked my Uncle Rupert if he went to squadron reunions he said no. I asked him why and he said, “Because most of them never came back.” He had never talked about this until our conversation.

My uncles are gone now, and so are my parents, and my sisters, but all of them live forever in the pages of my books. We are a family once again, arguing, laughing, and fiercely loving one another.

Shirley Skufca Hickman grew up in a Colorado coal mining town, during World War II. As an adult, she wrote about the war from a child’s point of view in Don’t Be Give Up.

In 1947, the mine closed, forcing the family to move. Living in three rooms and sleeping in the kitchen with her two older sisters, she wondered if they’d ever have a real home again. Whenever her father made life better for the family, he’d ask: Is Everybody Happy Now? This became the title of her next memoir.

She enjoyed her high school years until her father’s death devastated the family. Without his love and financial support, they might have lost their home. Family is Forever is about their love for one another and how they coped.

Shirley graduated from college and became a teacher. She wrote Fall in Love with An Orange Tree or a Book about a teenager who lived in the shadows because she was in the U.S. illegally.

When parents asked her to recommend a book to help their children, she wrote: School Success: Five Hundred Ways Busy Parents Can Help their Children in School.

She wrote Sarah Darlin’, a romance novel set in San Francisco during the Gold Rush. Before Sarah and her lover could be together, they must deal with prejudice, a fire, and a terrible secret from Sarah’s past.

Her latest memoir is about her journey to marriage, Rocky Road is More Than a Candy Bar.

Her books are available on Amazon.

Her greatest joys are her son, his wife, and their two boys.

OOPS – Part VI – Final Installment

Continued from last week

Monday, March 2, 2020

We arrived at South County Orthopedic Center at 9:45 as directed. I checked in and completed all the paperwork. Then we waited for a while until my name was called. I was told to go into the restroom and change into a gown. They gave me a large plastic bag for my clothes. Getting out of my clothes without help was a bit of a challenge.

Larry waited outside. I handed him the bag and then exited through the door on the opposite side. A nurse met me and took me to a bed. She asked if I wanted Larry to join me.

Yes!

He arrived a few moments later.

Strangely, I had absolutely no qualms about the surgery. I knew Dr. Moskow and trusted him completely.

The nurse tried to remove my wedding rings. I haven’t had them off since I had them repaired in 2001! She tried lubricant and pulled hard, but I knew they wouldn’t go over my joint. Sure enough…

So, she put tape over them.

Then another nurse got me ready. She put the IV into my left hand.

Then the anesthesiologist arrived. He told me he was going to numb the nerve to my hand by going in below my collar bone.

What?

I turned to Larry. “Okay, now I’m starting to be afraid.”

The explanation was it would reduce the amount of painkiller required. My hand would remain numb for around twelve hours, reducing the need for other medication. He also explained I would not be knocked out, but I would not remember anything—just what I wanted to hear.

He started the meds, and I was out…

~~~

As I began to wake up, I remember being aware of lots of pain—not the pain itself but of crying out. The nurse injected three or four doses of Percocet into the IV. I finally started to relax.

I was aware of Larry being there. This helped a lot.

It didn’t take too long before I felt less fuzzy-headed. Soon the nurse and Larry got me dressed.

Once I was fairly clear-headed, the nurse, Heather, explained what had been done and showed me the x-rays. She gave them to Larry.

She gave Larry a prescription and told him to get it filled. I told her I didn’t want to take the opioids. She told me to go home and eat something because she didn’t want me to take anything on an empty stomach. Just as the doctor in the ER had said, “Take one after you eat and a second before you go to bed. You need to stay ahead of the pain.”

Then she went over what I needed to do when I got home and afterward. I now sported a small splint similar to the one I’d worn in, but this one was generic vanilla and not the stylish black and pink one I’d had before.

She helped me into a wheelchair. Larry pulled the car to the front entrance, and he helped me in. We came home and ate lunch. Larry filled the prescription. I wasn’t in pain, but I took one pill as directed. I rested all afternoon. Before bed, I took another, even though I still had no pain.

I never took another one, and I never had any pain after that! A true miracle!

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

We called and made the follow-up appointment for the following Monday.

Thursday, March 5, 2020

I called Victoria at Natural Nail Care and told her my fingernails had been shredded when I fell. They desperately needed attention. Also, it had been quite a while since I’d been in for a pedicure. Larry’s toenails were like claws once again, and his fingernails were a mess. I had several gift certificates, so she agreed to let us come in for his-and-hers mani-pedis. What joy! This is one of my favorite places in San Juan, and we both enjoyed seeing Victoria. My nails looked and felt much better. Larry even enjoyed being pampered, and I appreciated the way his nails looked and felt.

Friday, March 6, 2020

We went to Flick Fellowship at Community Presbyterian Church, where we discussed the film The Farewell and enjoyed a potluck supper.

Monday, March 9, 2020

We went to Dr. Moskow’s office in the afternoon. When they removed the splint and uncovered my arm, I was surprised. So was the nurse. “Wow. There is no oozing, no blood. The incision is closed. You heal really fast. We’ll take out the stitches today.”

Hooray!

The stitches were removed. Steri-strips were put on. No splint! The best news was I could now take a shower! Yay! They gave me a brace. It covered my thumb and went about two-thirds of the way to the elbow. What an improvement over the splints!

When we got home, our friends Scarlett and Steve arrived. Their visit had been planned long before. We adore them and always enjoy being with them. This visit was no different.

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

We decided to go to Mollie’s Café in San Juan for breakfast. Yumm! Scarlett took this photo. Note the brace and lack of sling. Note my smile. Yep, we were having fun!

They had to leave to visit her brother. We’d sure have loved to have had more time with them.

Originally, we were supposed to leave the next day for San Diego to attend the Left Coast Crime Conference. However, after my accident, we decided it might not be a great idea to try to do everything while in a hotel. (At the time, it took over half an hour for me to get a shower and dress. It didn’t make sense to try to manage at the conference and still get to our sessions, so we cancelled.) The conference started as scheduled, but the next day, the hotel cancelled, and everyone had to leave. When we heard this, we didn’t feel as bad about missing it.

In the afternoon, I taught my Stephen Ministry class at Geneva Presbyterian. It felt like things were getting back to normal.

Friday, March 13, 2020

I had my first physical therapy session. By now, people were beginning to stay apart. I went home with some exercises to do.

Since then, my hand has been getting stronger and more flexible. Every day, it feels more like normal. Still a long way to go, but making progress.

We're staying home as much as possible and enjoying a quiet time together.

Thanks to everyone who prayed for my healing, called to check on me, and sent good wishes. I have missed seeing friends, but I call and communicate by email and on Facebook.

This has been a good time to stay at home and rest and recover. It’s getting better all the time.

OOPS – Part V

Continued from last week

When we arrived home from the airport on Monday after dropping off our guests, we took a nap. It had been an exhausting but fun weekend!

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Time to call the orthopedic surgeon. At the ER, they gave us the name of one, but he was over an hour away. Googled for a closer one and found the South County Orthopedic Specialists (SCOS) on El Toro in Laguna Hills. Definitely a better choice!

I called and made an appointment with one of their hand specialists. (There are two). The first appointment they had was late in the afternoon on Thursday.

Wednesday, February 27, 2020

We had to pick up a copy of the CD of my x-rays from Mission Hospital before my appointment with the surgeon. I had to do this once before. That time, I called Radiology, and they had the CD ready when we arrived. Not so this time.

We had to go in person up to Radiology with all the paperwork from the ER. Then they had to confirm my identity. Then—finally—they requested the CD. And, we waited. And waited…

Finally, they called my name and gave me the disc. Just another annoyance…

Thursday, February 27,2020

Checked in for my appointment. I was surprised when they had all of my information already. I asked which doctor I would be seeing. I had thought the name Dr. Moskow sounded familiar. The receptionist confirmed he would be my surgeon. Then I remembered he had done minor surgery to remove a cyst under the nail bed on one of my fingers several years earlier. I remembered him, and I liked him!

I got into his examination room (with several exam tables). We had brought the CD of the x-rays, and they copied it into their electronic files. (This place is VERY efficient!)

A nurse removed the heavy, bulky, splint. Thank goodness! Underneath, my skin was all covered in little red bumps, and it itched—badly!

He looked it over. “What did they put under the splint?”

“Nothing.”

He looked surprised and shook his head.

“Do you have something for the itching?”

He brought some gauze soaked with iodine and bathed the inside of my arm.

The doctor checked the x-rays. “The good news is the break is below the joint. This is a much easier situation to deal with.”

Thank GOD!

“You have two choices. You can let it heal as is with the bone out of alignment, but you may have limited movement.”

I don’t think so. I told him I needed to be able to fully use the hand. My work depended on it.

“The second choice is to do surgery and insert a plate and screws. The healing time will be shorter, and you should have good motion afterward.”

No contest! Surgery it was.

I complained about the dumb sling. “It is made out of slick nylon, and no matter how tight we get it, my arm keeps slipping out, defeating the whole purpose.”

“Then don’t use it. Just try to keep the arm upright with your hand above your heart.”

HOORAY!

I started to use the Napoleon technique. I zipped my jacket about ¾ of the way. Then, I slipped my arm inside. This kept it at the right angle, and was MUCH more comfortable than the dang sling.

When I told the nurse how uncomfortable the darn thing was, he pointed out a loop. “This is for you to slip your thumb through.

Really? I pointed to my thumb, which still looked like a bloated boiled sausage and was beginning to bruise. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

He nodded.

He replaced the huge “sugar tong” splint with a much smaller one. This one went from my fingers halfway to my elbow. First, though, he put a black knit “sleeve” on the arm. Then the splint. Then he wrapped it in sticky bandaging—pink! I loved it! Pink and black was a popular color combination in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. This was much smaller and lighter.

While we waited to see his PA to schedule the surgery, we went back out into the waiting area. Larry went to the desk to pick up the x-ray CD. So, I sat down next to a young lady. She looked very distressed.

She told me she had a toddler at home, and her hand had been going numb. She’d already had a couple of surgeries, and nothing had helped, so she was very worried. She asked about my arm and asked who my doctor was.

“Dr. Moskow."

“He’s the one I’m going to see.”

“You will love him. He did minor surgery on my finger a few years ago. “ I showed her the scar. “I absolutely love him, and I trust him completely.”

I watched as she relaxed a bit.

Larry returned and we went back in to meet with the PA.

Surgery was scheduled for the following Monday. Before then, I’d need blood work and chest x-ray.

As we came out and headed for the elevator, we ran into the same young woman I had been talking to earlier. She was leaving the exam room from the other side. She smiled—a whole different person. “Thank you so much. You’re right. I like him very much, and I feel better about my surgery.” She went on to the reception area, and we got on the elevator.

“Okay, now I know why I was supposed to be here today.” I love those occasions when God affirms my purpose.

We went to my primary care doctor’s office with the orders for the blood work and x-ray.

The on-call physician took the blood samples, but the x-ray facility was already closed for the day. (It was after five.)

So, we went home.

Friday, February 28,2020

We spent quite a bit of time trying to get the x-ray. Lots of running around… Finally got it done.

Saturday, February 29, 2020

Had an urgent call from the surgery center asking if I had gotten he blood work done. Yes, I had. They hadn’t received the report. I gave them the contact information for the lab. SIGH!

Sunday, March 1, 2020

My Christmas gift from Larry was tickets to see The Book of Mormon at the Ahmanson in downtown L.A.. I had no intention of missing it!

Larry helped set up for the coffee hour between services. (I was useless in this department!) Then we attended church. We left immediately to get to L.A.

We made exceptional time, even though it was drizzling.

I hadn’t eaten anything, so we decided to go to go to Abernethy’s, since we were able to be seated. Nothing on the menu was much to my taste. Larry decided to get the burger. So did I. We sat next to another couple and had a delightful conversation with them.

The play was audacious and rude and very funny. (I adore irreverence, and this was right up my alley!) It was written by the writers of South Park and had the same sense of humor.

Afterward, we went to see our goddaughter’s new apartment in Pasadena. (We had made arrangements before we went.)

As we drove there, I was reminded of how much I love the old town. Charming.

We were delighted to find her parents there already. She has a really charming place. Of course, we expected no less since she has always had terrific taste!

We decided to walk the two blocks to Green Street to Green Street Restaurant for dinner. (Keep in mind, my ankle was still wrapped in an Ace bandage. On Monday, the entire sole and heel were solid navy blue!) Still, taking a walk felt good. We took our umbrellas since it had been drizzling off and on.

Our friend from grammar school owns the restaurant, and it is a Pasadena favorite. The food was excellent! He wasn’t there, but we left our business card with a note for him. He emailed the following day. (We are also friends on Facebook.)

After dinner, we went back to the apartment for a short time. We live at quite a distance, so we don’t get to see these friends often. I had missed them!

With surgery scheduled for the next day, we left to get home and get ready for the big day!

OOPS - Part IV

Continued from last week

We arrived back home from the hospital around four o’clock.

Larry came around the van to help me out. As I put my foot down, I realized that the boot had a plastic bottom—and it was new and slick. It felt as though it was going to slide out from under me. I was glad Larry had my good arm to keep me balanced. In addition, the sole was about an inch or more higher than my other shoe, making me off-balance to start with. And the bottom wasn’t flat. It was curved! It didn’t give me great confidence, to say the least! Plus, it was heavy. I loathed it!

The others had returned from their trip. Before we left, I had told them all the food in the house was up for grabs, so they had made themselves some toast to tide them over until dinner. They had also discovered a DVD I had put out to lend to a friend at church and were watching it.

I said hello, and then Larry helped me up the stairs.

The first order of business was to cut off the rest of the sleeve of my shirt. I would wear a jacket, so no one would know I only had one sleeve. (Larry would have to cut me out of the rest of the shirt when we got home. Fortunately, I had bought it through Amazon, so I was able to replace it.)

Then I tried to clean up my face and cover the abrasions with a little makeup. It looked a bit better—not quite so scary. (A few days later, the entire socket around my right eye was a vivid shade of magenta. I knew from the start I’d have quite a shiner! We didn’t get any photos of it at its worst.)

I brushed my hair as best I could with only one hand—and my left one at that.

We went downstairs to join the others. Of course, they wanted a complete update on what had transpired, and we wanted to hear about their trip.

They had seen a few whales, but only tails and backs. None breached while they were out. And they spotted lots of dolphins. I was very glad we had gotten them back on time so they hadn’t missed their trip.

Larry had my prescription to fill, so he left for Costco. Linda decided to join him. He returned with the magic pain pills, and Linda got a large bag of popcorn (Boom Chicka Pop).

We gathered ourselves together and set out for the Harbor Grill. Having not eaten all day, dinner sure tasted good! I think all of us enjoyed our meal.

When we returned home, we finished watching the video they had started earlier (the American version of Shall We Dance. I prefer the Japanese version and had loaned it to my friend a couple of weeks earlier. She wanted to see the American one, so I had set it out to take to church for her.)

By this time, I was getting weary, so I went upstairs and got ready for bed. Of course, I was completely helpless… Thank God for Larry. He began to call himself my NIT (nurse-in-training).

At the hospital, the doctor had advised me to take one of the pain pills at bedtime to stay ahead of the pain. So, I did and slept well.

Sunday, February 23, 2020

We had made arrangements to go to church with Dave’s niece, Rachel, and her family in Aliso Viejo, so we got up early. It required a LOT of extra time to get ready!

Larry used a garbage bag to cover my arm so I could take a shower. He then wrapped the excess around and used packing tape to hold it in place. Quite a challenge.

I decided to wash my hair, but it didn’t go well. I got shampoo—the dandruff stuff—in my eye. It burned! I yelled for Larry to get me some eye drops. He was frozen in place and didn’t seem to understand what I needed. He finally got the message and handed me the drops. They soothed my eye, but my attempt at a shampoo didn’t go too well.

The shower was less than optimal, but I felt better after getting clean.

Then came the challenge of wrapping my head in a towel, removing the bag on my arm (and dripping all over the floor while trying to get it into the trash can) and getting my body dry. Between us, we managed the operation.

Larry was recruited to dry my hair since I only had one hand—my left one. He did pretty well for being the first time. I decided not to try to curl it. (I would rethink this a couple of days later when I couldn’t stand it anymore.)

Next came the challenge of dressing. Together we decided a tank top would be easier to get over the huge splint. I could put a stretchy jacket over it, and I would look somewhat normal.

The bra was the first challenge. I couldn’t help much, but somehow, we got it on. My underpants were also a challenge because of my swollen ankle, but we managed. My pants weren’t too hard, once we figured out a strategy.

Then, came the brace for my ankle.

I lay down so Larry could position it. He was the only one who had watched the doctor put it on the first time, but he couldn’t figure out how to hook all the straps. Since I hated the thing anyway, I decided not to use it. (Had my ankle been broken, I wouldn’t have had a choice.)

I have very few memories of my dad, who died when I was seven. One of them is of him sitting on the floor wrapping my ankle. I had LOTS of sprains when I was a kid. Dad always wrapped them with an Ace bandage.

We had Ace bandages…

So, Larry wrapped the ankle. I had a pair of sandals from Hawaii. They had Velcro straps over the instep to hold them in place. When I stood up, my foot felt MUCH better. The sole of the sandal was about the same height as my other shoe. I felt more balanced.

We ate breakfast and then went to church. We stayed for the group discussions afterward. Rachel had asked all of us for lunch, so we went to their house. What a lovely family! We had a great time and enjoyed all of them. We ate on their patio, and the day was beautiful.

When we got home, we changed clothes. One of Dave’s requests was to see the mission. He had read our book, The Memory Keeper, and wanted to see Mission San Juan Capistrano for himself. So, we went.

I walked everywhere except down to the vats and garden because of all the uneven stairs. I waited while they explored there, then we covered all the rest of the buildings and gardens. My ankle held up well.

By this time, we were hungry, so we went to Ruby’s for burgers.

We returned home and decided to watch another movie. Bob suggested Ford Versus Ferrari, so we found it on Netflix. We enjoyed it very much. Linda broke out her popcorn, and we had a great time.

I had little pain all day, and have never taken another happy pill.

Monday, February 24, 2020

We had a leisurely breakfast and then drove our guests down to San Diego to catch their return flight to Canada.

As they left, they told me they were so sorry about my injuries. I thanked them for coming since they had taken my mind off everything else, and I enjoyed them very much.

On the way home, I told Larry I was sorry to have scared him. I realized he was more in shock than I was for the first few days. I have always said in an emergency, he was the person I wanted to be with. He’s always been cool and logical. Except, this happened to me. By the second day, he stepped into the support role in the way I had expected him to.

Believe me, I was truly grateful for his help!

More next week.