Falling, Falling

As I've gotten older, one of my goals is not to fall. Most of the time I'm successful because I pay attention to how I'm standing and walking. I fell only once this summer, when I tripped over a curb at Starbucks.

My husband Art has a harder time. When he worked he was a line crew foreman for the electric company, which required lots of physical activity. And he has always been a fixer of things at home. Now he's older (82), and his reflexes are slower, and his balance isn't what it used to be. He's had three falls in the last month.

• About a month ago, we'd gone for a walk using our trekking poles. I took a longer walk than he did. When I got home he was sitting on the deck. He told me he'd fallen on the first of two steps to our deck. I said, "How did that happen?" and he said, "Well, in my right hand I had my trekking poles and a bunch of grapes I picked from the arbor in the garden. In my left hand I had the mail and the newspaper." So he couldn't use the railings. He bumped his head, but it was nothing serious. We talked about the fall, and he agreed to carry a lightweight daypack when going for the mail, plus he agreed to wear a lanyard connected to Bay Alarm, our emergency help company. That has worked so far.

• Three weeks ago - the day before we flew to Tucson to our winter residence - he was working in the yard. He decided to trim some errant blackberry branches on the easement. Our easement is on a 45-degree downhill slope. Art stood at the top of the slope to cut the branches and gravity had its way with him. He tumbled down the slope and was stopped by a piece of wood, which cut his head. He takes blood thinners, so there was a bunch of blood on his face.  Struggling to get himself upright, he rolled onto a wasp nest and was stung multiple times. No damage to his head except the cut. But he itched from those stings for a week - including the next day on the plane.

• Late last Sunday night, Art took the trash bin to the curb. The bin caught on some gravel in the driveway. He pulled hard on the bin and it fell over onto him. He fell into the street, landing on his hip and hitting his head again. He didn't tell me about the incident until the next morning. He was feeling stiff and sore and having a little bit of trouble walking. We agreed to wait until evening to see if he should go to the ER. We went. CT scans on his head and pelvis showed no damage, but his recovery from this fall was slower, and he decided to use a walker.

Four days later Art and I went into town for his annual appointment with his PCP. She looked at his hip and said it was just bruised, but that it could take a few weeks to heal. After the appointment Art said we needed to go to the grocery store. He was pretty insistent, so I went in with him. He leaned against the cart as he walked every aisle of the store. By the next day he could barely move without pain. I did some research and found out he had overdone it too soon after his injury. He is supposed to rest for three to five days. So far, he is doing that. 

We've had a conversation. I know being able to do the manly things is important. I said, "You get to decide what quality of life looks like to you. You can either continue to take risks and fall and have a long recovery time, or you can do things differently and, instead, spend your energy walking to increase your strength and stamina so we can travel. It is up to you."

In the last three days he has let me hire a man to replace the battery in our golf cart, call another man about removing the large barrel cactus that fell in our back yard during the summer, and let a friend move our old recliner into the driveway so the new one could be set up by the delivery people. He also let me water the plants on the deck.

I believe he may be ready to take fewer risks. Time will tell.

A Tale of Dutchy the Diva

Our Dutchy is a Siberian Forest cat, six years old. We bought her when she retired in 2023 as a queen in a cattery in Kingman, Arizona. My husband Art is allergic to cats, and some Siberians - including Dutchy - are hypoallergenic. So I get to have a cat, as I have for the last 50 years, and Art doesn't suffer from runny eyes and sneezing.

A couple of months ago, in late August, we noticed that Dutchy sometimes hesitated when jumping up onto the arm of Art's recliner or onto her own multilevel cat perch. She'd pull herself up onto the recliner and sleep in the second tier of the perch rather than one on top. And one day, I watched as she ran around a corner and noticed that her left hind leg was a little draggy.

We took Dutchy to our vet on September 10 for a physical exam. The vet noticed the gait issue and ordered x-rays, lab work and urinalysis, and provided five syringes of meloxicam, an anti-inflammatory medication. After $900 and a wait of several days, we got the results: everything was normal. The vet suggested we make an appointment with a feline neurologist (!). There was such a place near Brier, the Seattle suburb where we live. The place was also a 24-hour emergency clinic, so we knew it would be expensive. We made an appointment for the following week. As it turned out, the meloxicam worked and Dutchy returned to her higher jumps.

This was just two weeks before we were scheduled to leave for Tucson for our annual six-month winter stay. It occurred to me that if Dutchy needed follow-up care, it might be complicated and inefficient to transfer her records for a Tucson neurologist to pick up her case. So I did some research and found a Tucson vet with an excellent reputation. I made an appointment there and canceled the one in Washington. 

Last week, four days after stopping the meloxicam, we made the 45-minute trek to the other side of Tucson to visit the feline neurologist. Dutchy's medical records had been transferred, so he could see all the results. He did some testing that the Washington vet hadn't done - tested her hind legs, probed and poked. Then he said, "This cat is fine today." He showed us what he saw on the x-rays and said that what he was looking for in part of her spine wasn't present. He told us that if the hesitation started again, to bring her in the same day and he would check her again.

We'd expected a CAT scan or an MRI or maybe even surgery would be necessary.  We were very relieved and gladly paid his $180 bill. We wondered if Dutchy could have early arthritis that showed up in the more humid Washington climate than in the Arizona desert. Or if a flea infestation in August of the cat and the resident dog, Augi, could have been the source of her problem.

Here in Tucson, Art has a recliner with narrow arms. His recliner in Brier has wider arms. That means Dutchy can't sit on the recliner arm here while Art brushes her. It's thrown her off in her routine. So last week we spent an hour in the Ashley furniture showroom, and then in their outlet, looking for a recliner. I told the salesman at the beginning, "We want a rocking recliner, no heater, no massage, no power lift, no cup holder, no USB port. It just has to have wide arms." Art sat in eight chairs and we decided on one that is normally $799 but on sale for $399. A good price! It will be delivered the day after tomorrow.

I know Dutchy - and Art - will be happy to renew the ritual brushing on the wide arms of the new recliner.

What I didn't do this summer

When we got back from Tucson (our winter place) on May 1 of this year, I had two goals in mind. They were at the top of my to-do list. 

First, I planned to study Spanish most days, continuing to learn from the textbook we'd used in the 12-week class I attended each Wednesday from January to March. I wanted to start back at the beginning of the book, review it, do all the exercises and be ready for next year's advanced class. 

And I wanted to practice on my electric keyboard most days. I bought one back in January on New Year's Day in Tucson. I played it sometimes as I figured out how to use my iPad software to start from the beginning of piano lessons, as I had when I was six. But it was high season in Tucson then, and I was too busy. When we got home in May, I bought another keyboard, exactly like the one in Tucson. I promised my husband Art I would play during the summer, since it was one of my two goals.

It's been five months now. I studied Spanish half a dozen times, and played the piano on maybe three occasions.

Because life got in the way. This is what I actually did this summer:

• Spent weeks shopping online for shoes, underwear and a bathing suit, and days driving to UPS to return almost all of it.

• Prepared for a 10-day trip to Spain and Portugal, took the trip, and spent 10 days recovering from the trip.

• Ordered new glasses and went to the optical shop three times to complain that none of my eyeglass frames had the right prescription for my computer glasses. Finally realized I had ordered a different frame, with the right prescription, but I took that pair to Spain and Portugal and lost them somewhere - at the airport in Seattle, Dallas, Madrid, Lisbon, Porto, or Newark. Or maybe in the the seat pocket of one of the planes. Or in a hotel in Madrid or Lisbon. Or on a boat on the Duoro River. The resolution was to replace them exactly as they'd been ordered. The three opticians I'd talked to were so relieved when I confessed my forgetfulness.

• Had a conversation most days with my adult son James who rents our upstairs and watches out for us older people living downstairs. He has a residential remodeling business, and in the evening we talk about his day and mine, and, carefully and compassionately, about our differing political views. I am a bit left and he is somewhat right and we inch over and meet pretty close to the middle on most issues. 

• Went on evening walks with James and his Aussie Augi and, most recently, with our Siberian Forest cat Dutchy! 

• Made and kept medical appointments - nearly a dozen in all, counting eye exams and hearing tests - and was pronounced healthy by the medical people, but - get this - "These things happen as we get older!"

• Tended to my husband Art as he experienced back pain and, after over a week, took him to urgent care where he was diagnosed with double pneumonia. The antibiotics are done but the fatigue lingers, as it typically does.

• Observed Dutchy favoring her left hind leg, took her to the vet to the tune of $1,100 as the examination, x-rays, blood work and urine analysis showed nothing wrong. When we get back to Tucson she has an appointment with a feline neurologist. Fortunately, meloxicam helps, but getting liquid down a cat's throat is a major life challenge. I'm grateful I can afford the vet's bill and that hypoallergenic cats exist so I can have one, because Art is allergic to most felines.

• Continued meeting friends for coffee or lunch - and walking every week with my friend Gail. These women feed my spirit.

• Bought Trustworthy software so I can have all our information in one place for when one or both of us passes. Just about everything is in my head or a safe or a file cabinet or on a spreadsheet. I want to be kind to the offspring who will be responsible for it all after we're gone.

• Appreciated Art's garden, which he planted and tended and watered all summer. It looks like a jungle out there, and we have been the beneficiaries of peas, beans, cauliflower, broccoli, radishes, potatoes, squash, and cucumbers - and one renegade sunflower from a seed that a squirrel dropped into the garden while it was raiding the bird feeder. Plus our usual perennial strawberries, raspberries and grapes.

We leave for Tucson in about three weeks. The rains are beginning here and the temperatures are dropping there, and it's just about the right time.

It's been a good summer. When I get back to Tucson two of my goals are Spanish and the keyboard!

On returning from my latest trip

As usual, I learned a lot:

1. The weather may be reasonable when you check for temperatures in Madrid, Lisbon, and Porto - but inland Portugal, where your riverboat travels, is hotter than you can tolerate with anything approaching good sportsmanship. Bright sun, dry climate, hilly with cobblestones. You sweat all day long, and the cooling device you brought breaks on the second day.

2. You hope you will never see another cathedral or another winery. For a person of faith, a church of any religion is a comfort. For you, not so much. You'd rather be out in the world, doing, than sitting in a church praying (that's a UU speaking)! And if you haven't had a drink for many years, the wineries, even with their interesting origins and modern aesthetics, are a place you have no interest in.

3. If you pay attention to your feet, you won't fall, even on cobblestones or stairways.

4. You get stronger when you walk every day and get on and off tour buses. When you get home, your massage therapist says, "you've got a toned butt!" 

5. Traveling is harder work than it was when you were younger. It takes you over a week to reclaim yourself at home. Not just the jet lag, but the energy required for a day in your life. 

6. When you can't imagine having the stamina or strength to fly to Australia for the two-week cruise there and in New Zealand - which you've booked for three months from now - you tell your husband you don't have it in you. You suspect he doesn't have it in him either, but you don't tell him that. Instead, you cancel the trip on the last day you are eligible for a full refund. You are relieved, but your husband is disappointed.

7. When you go on two river cruises in three years with a friend and without your husband, he is disappointed and a little ticked off. He would like you to find another river cruise for the two of you to go on. But another river cruise doesn't sound appealing when you're still recovering from the last trip. 

8. Being a loyal partner, you find an alternative that meets your husband's needs and yours. You sign up with Road Scholar for a 22-passenger canal barge cruise in France next April. Business class flights. Much more doable than Australia and New Zealand, on an ocean ship with 960 passengers. You hope. 

9. You are continuously grateful that you have the resources and the health to travel in your 70s.

10. Farmers grow sunflowers in Portugal.

The first four days - what I've learned so far

I've done a lot of traveling in the last 20 years, and some things are pretty similar. But now, as I'm the oldest I've ever been as a journeyer, there are some differences.

1. My travel companion Shelley and I decided to use wheelchair assist in the big airports of Seattle, Dallas and Madrid. The Seattle people did a perfect job. In Dallas, there was a gate change we didn't know about, and we waited for 20 minutes for a ride to pick us up. Apparently American Airlines forgot to let us know - as well as the assist program. And in Madrid, the wheelchair people forgot about us completely, so we walked a LONG WAY to customs and baggage. I may write a critical but pleasant letter. 

2. I packed two regular canes and two "seat canes" in case Shelley wanted to use one, or my first one broke. So far, I haven't used the seat cane. I usually need it if I've been standing still for 15 minutes or more, but the only time that happened was at the Prada museum. I didn't use the seat cane, though, because if I'd sat down I wouldn't have been able to see the art over the heads of the people in front of me. 

3. At the museum, our guide Claudia explained a dozen or so paintings to us. I completely understood everything she said. As for the paintings she didn't talk about, I have no idea! That was my experience years ago in Florence as well.

4. The more I walk, the easier it is. Duh. When I get home I'm going to do it every day.

5. My poor-so-far Spanish is adequate, thanks to patient Spaniards. Many people we've met so far speak little English, even in the tourist districts. They seem appreciative of my attempts at their language. I recall my Spanish instructor warning us about how to say I'm hot. "Caliente" means I'm, you know, a hot (sexy) person. "Calor" means I'm hot, as in sweaty. In the hotel elevator yesterday, I used caliente and the woman washing the walls of the elevator corrected me with a smile. I thanked her. I may or may not tell my Spanish instructor about that one!

6. I'm communicating with family and friends at home. There's a nine-hour time difference, so I need to be careful what time I send texts or make a call. I am waking up in Madrid when my husband Art is going to bed in Seattle. Before text and internet we were pretty much out of touch with everyone when we were traveling.

7. Shelley wanted to see a flamenco dance performance. I didn't think I'd be much interested, but she was persistent, so we took a taxi to a venue last night. The performance was quite something. Shelley got some great pictures, and if you can get to my Facebook page you can take a look.

8. The BBC in our hotel room provides much less frantic news than anything we watch at home. 

9. I suspect this will be my last international trip unless I have a travel companion who's willing to have me take their arm very lightly when we're going down stairs without railings. And that, unfortunately, wouldn't be my husband, who is six years older than me and not much stronger or better balanced than I am.

This afternoon we fly from Madrid to Lisbon to join the rest of our Viking tour group.

10. I am, as always, grateful for the opportunity be here. 

Getting ready for my trip to Spain and Portugal

My friend Shelley and I are flying to Madrid in two days to join our Viking cruise adventure. We'll be exploring there for three days, then in Lisbon for two days, before boarding the 89-passenger Viking riverboat in Porto for a week on the Duoro River.

I've taken many trips - about 93 of three days or longer since I retired 15 years ago - but it's been three years since I've been out of the country. In that time I've aged physically - of course - and I need to be more careful about how I get around. I used to take long flights in stride. Now I have a newly complaining knee. I bought two seat canes for the times I'll need to sit while listening to a tour guide or standing in line. I may pack my trekking poles as well. I'll take my regular cane with me onboard.

I've been buying stuff! Pants and shirts and cooling towels and fans and sun hats and really good sandals and supportive shoes and a crossbody bag. Amazon has been my friend, and so has the nearby UPS where I have returned probably 30 of the 50 things I bought and tried on.  

I'm using ChatGPT a lot to help me prepare. I love this new tool, in spite of my suspicions about artificial intelligence overall. I have a thorough packing list specifically for where we'll be traveling, and tomorrow I'll fill the two suitcases. I wish I could take just a few items of clothing and have laundry facilities close at hand, but we're moving around. 

My biggest challenge for this evening is finding our adapter for European electrical outlets. I know we have one, but I'm not exactly sure where it is.

Forty-eight hours from now we'll be a couple of hours from landing in Madrid.

I am really grateful to be going on this trip - that I have a good friend in Shelley, that my husband Art is supportive of my going without him, that I can afford it. 

Mostly, life is good!

Slowing down, maybe?

It's been nearly a year since I last posted. I felt mildly guilty, but not enough to sit down at my laptop.

Our lives have continued in their usual way. Art and I spent November to April in Tucson in our little place at Voyager RV Resort, a retirement community. I played handbells, took two Spanish classes, went to plays and dinners, did my live volunteer things in Tucson and my virtual volunteer ones in Brier.

I have also observed that, in spite of my determination, my mobility and stamina are decreasing, as is the case with many people my age. We don't go to Friday night dances any more. We don't hike. I got on my e-bike once this spring, but it had been so long that I forgot I need to start off from the curb - so I fell off the bike right in front of my house! But I consoled myself by noting that I was still in my right mind - mentally sharp, but not as quick as I used to be.

Then we came home in May. I had two goals for the summer: to continue to study Spanish and to practice the electronic keyboard I bought to bring myself back up to the level of skill on the piano I had when I gave up taking lessons at nine, when I no longer wanted to practice. So far, so good. 

But I'm not sure I'm still in my right mind! I had so many stressors last week - mostly other people not behaving the way I thought they ought to - that I went to a meeting at my church on Friday and left my car running in the parking lot for an hour and 15 minutes. Eye rolls all around, but a little scary for me. I realized I am too busy for my own good now. So, also last week, I dropped two volunteer church activities. And another one this week. 

I also noted that, in the interest of expediency and convenience, I spent a lot of time ordering shoes, underwear and bathing suits online. And a lot of time returning them. I have now realized that to know what size I wear, I need to go try stuff on in a real store. Duh. For example, I found out that I don't wear a size 9 wide shoe. I wear an 8 double wide. When I put on the correct size my feet sighed into them. I now know what size bra I should buy, and next week I'll get the bathing suit taken care of. Facebook and Amazon are convenient, but they are time sinks, plus they encourage a sedentary life, which isn't good for anyone. I need to be walking around in stores.

So I'm cultivating a moderated life. I don't book myself from morning until night. There is no shame in free time to read, or nap, or sit on my deck looking at the garden.

When I retired 15 years ago our financial planner said, "Most people travel for five years, and then they come home." We traveled for 15 years, and we have almost come home. I do have two trips planned for this year - both cruises where I only have to pack and unpack once. But even they look a little intimidating with the amount of walking I'll be doing. I bought a Ta Da cane which converts into a seat for the times the tour guide is talking in front of a cathedral or something.  

Guess I'm slowing down! Still grateful, though.