Seventy has come and gone.  I took a 10 day car trip through New England with my dog.  Went to Exeter New Hampshire, historic town built around the academy along a river.  Small beautiful comfortable.  Next day drove to Lubec Maine, the northeastern most point in the USA.  I was drawn here by the bridge which goes across to Campobello, NB Canada.  This place was spoken about in my childhood as part of the Roosevelt legend which was revered in my home.  Lubec is so nondescript as to be invisible.  The bridge to Canada and the historic home are worth the long boring drive.  My dog and I wandered the gardens, beaches and woods.  I meandered through the old house, delighted with its' rustic contents, so different from the elaborate homes of other historic figures.  There were three days set aside for this part of the trip and it was all accomplished in one afternoon.  What to do next?  Problem solved I developed a tooth ache which threatened to be serious.  At 4 in the morning I loaded the car and drove through sleeping, fog shrouded towns down to civilization.  A text to my dentist reassured me that I could manage with Advil.  Headed back to Exeter and used it as a home base for trips to local sights.  Portsmouth, NH, Ogonquit, ME, Kittery Me, it was fun.

Next Newport Rhode Island and a quaint Bed and Breakfast better than I could have imagined in the residential neighborhood off a busy working area.  Rain set in but the dog and I did the cliff walk and strolled through the tourist area along the docks.  It was much more congested than I remembered, and there was the rain.  I hid in the Slots casino for an hour or two and then ordered pizza to my room.  Next day more rain another cliff walk and two mansion tours, overpowering greed got the better of my socialist religion and I walked out of the second.

On to Saratoga Springs, NY.  Now this was a luxurious bed and breakfast.  Beautiful house, warm service, good food and cocktails on the veranda every afternoon from 5-7.  I believe they welcomed my dog more warmly than they did me.  Visited with one of our student riders at Skidmore, had dinner in a special Mexican restaurant and didn't mind going to bed early.  Next day a long walk through the town, visited a store owned by a friend, did two museums, the local casino, a theme, and then back for cocktails.  Dinner was a light salad in my three room suite.  Home the next day and proof there is life after 70!

Another day in the life.  Found out today that five co=op apartments in my development had open houses this weekend.  NO ONE CAME. Egads this is an upscale neighborhood, this is a building in a country type setting close to Manhattan, we have full time doormen, indoor outdoor parking, utilities included in the maintenance, how is this possible.  Shakes me up, this place is my investment for my fast approaching old age.

Okay calm down, I live in a lovely small apartment, no mortgage still working a bit and able to pay for it all for now.  But gosh,

For years I have been dreading this birthday.  70 is the end I mused.  Is it because my parents were older when I was born and I grew up with people so much older than my peers parents?  No it was because they had suffered so much in life that as older people they were hopeless and depressed.  My assumption was that this was to be my state at the same age.  I have been practicing ageism against myself and thereby limiting my goals, my risk taking, my love of life.

I rebelled against the constraints my family tried to impose on me all my growing up years.  Every risk I took they cried in despair and I joyfully jumped into danger sure that I would survive.  When did I stop?  Enough, I am still the same person, I can move forward, I can meet challenges I can do this.

she said what?

Nothing is ever simple is it?  When I paid off my car loan using the on-line account, I called Chase to find out what comes next.  The agent advised that within two days Chase notifies NYS Motor Vehicle and the lien on the title will be release and a clear title will be mailed to me.  He also told me I had to notify my insurance company to take Chase off the policy.  

I follow directions.  I called Allstate and my long time agent Rick, Sr.  He wasn't Rick Sr when I met him, he was just Rick.  Now when I call I get Rick, Jr who seems much less informed and certainly does not have the crush on me Rick Sr has always evidenced.  Need I say I prefer Rick Sr and the special attention, especially when I am sitting at the side of the road outside Albany waiting for the State Trooper to write my speeding ticket. Rick, Sr assures me my rates would not go up.  He also carries my home owner's insurance and has been good to me combining the upstate small apartment with the city coop and the car to get me a very doable rate.

So I called the office and no one was in I left Rick Sr a message about paying off the car and suggested he call me on my cell if he needed any further details.  No call back.... The following day I reluctantly called the office again.  Now I have never met Jennifer who answers the phone.  I have made it a point not to go to the office because I would cheerfully strangle her if I had to talk to her face to face.  Jennifer always speaks to me as if I have interrupted her at something much more important than helping a long time customer. She answered with her usual reluctance to be helpful.  When I explained what the issue was, she asked if I knew my policy number.  

"Do I know my policy number?  No I have no idea what my policy number is."  Do people know their policy numbers?

"What is your name?" Same as it was when I introduced myself as Eleanor Hoenig.

"Let me see if I can find you in the computer.......No I don't have it here, could it be something else?"

"Could my name be something else?"

"How do you spell it?"  How did she spell it when she searched?

I spelled it for her...s..l..o..w..l..y.  "Hmm...why is this computer so slow?"  Is she talking to me.

"Oh here it is 2011 Subaru..Do you have the letter from DMV"

"Not yet, I called to find out what the process is."

"OK....I will have Rick call you back."

"You don't have the information?"

"NO  is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I doubt it."

Never say the worst has happened.....

 Back in August of 2012 the 14^th to be specific, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.  For the previous 24 hours I had been experiencing increasing abdominal pain, which eventually led to vomiting and fever.  For most of the time I assumed it was food poisoning and tried to ride it out.  Finally I contacted my doctor who insisted I be seen at a walk in or emergency clinic.  I did that and had a CAT scan which resulted in an ambulance coming to take me to Lawrence Hospital. 

In the emergency room I was joined by my gastroenterologist, Dr Feingold.  In his typical reassuring style he told me a surgeon was on the way and I would be fine.  My good friend Maryliz came to keep me company and signed as medical proxy.  Dr Kerin arrived some time later, the surgeon was also reassuring and told me the prognosis was excellent but I would have a colostomy for the next three months.

No idea how I kept calm, but I did.  Gave Maryliz details of my will, how to reach the lawyer and she made arrangements to care for my dog.  The doctor had a ECG and chest xray done and I was in the OR within an hour of entering the ER.

The next 6 days spent in the hospital, were a mixed bag, no pun intended.  For the first few days I lay in the dark and refused any attempts to cheer me up.  I needed the space to process what had happened to me.  Then I dealt with the ostomy bag, the change in diet and the future.  Finally I went home and was grateful for my friends, neighbors, local services and the grounds of my coop where I could sit and bask in being alive.

I went back to work after two weeks at home and established a sort of normalcy.  One of the amazing things was finding out how common this is.  Seems almost everyone I spoke to knew someone who had a similar experience, and recovered well.   The focus for me was on the reversal of the surgery and having my life back.

November 16^th I was again in Lawrence Hospital for surgery.  Dr Kerin was 3 hours late but the procedure went well.  The recovery from this is more of a challenge than I was prepared for.  My current struggle is to be grateful for the outcome and tolerate the process.  Pain has receded, bowels are functioning, but there is draining, odd pains and sadness.  I can drive a car, I hope to work on Monday and one day I will ride my horse again.  A friend has offered his guest house in Florida in February whenever I want it.  Thank you, for the friends, the doctor, small savings, the future I still have. Thank you.

Here I am four weeks out from surgery and still struggling to be grateful.  I learned from the ECG that sometime in the past year or so I had a silent heart attack.  Hopefully the silent part means it did little damage.    I haven’t ridden my horse in forever, the longer the time takes the harder it is to picture riding again.  Judy, the farm owner and mentor on all things horse, says it is like riding a bike, but this is not my old bike. 

Loneliness is creeping in, financial worries are also knocking but in reality I have enough for several months if not longer.  Probably the after effects of this entire trauma are conspiring to sadden me, it is the holidays, after all I time of universal depression.

What to do after the worst happens

It is almost four weeks since we put our horse down.  He suddenly got very ill and took a turn for the worse and we put him down all in less than twenty four hours.  A horror story that will haunt me for years.

There is a hole in my whole since he is gone and the struggle now is finding a way to heal.  I work, plan activities and look at the possibilities of doing this all over again.

On a different path, I have satellite radio in my car now.  When driving home from NJ after a day of dealing with the pain of other peoples' lives, I listen to "Classic Radio".  This station plays radio programs dating back to before I was born and later.  So tonight I found myself driving across the GW bridge listening to Jack Benny. Now here is the weird part, my senses filled with the smell and taste of chicken chow mein, something I have not eaten in many years.  Back  in time my parents and I would be driving home from some Sunday outing and cross this same bridge and listen to Jack Benny, my Dad the most over cautious of drivers would chuckle and the show, while clutching the wheel of our Studebaker, pea green, two door sedan nervous that if he laughed too hard he would lose control.

My mother would be giving directions about dinner.  She would ask him to stop at Tom's Inn on the Concourse, he would get out to get dinner and she would drive the car home to be ready when he walked in.

Dinner was always the same, chicken chow mein, one egg roll, fried rice and spare ribs.  She would stretch dinner by making her own rice, cutting the egg roll in three pieces and make her own tea.  It was a Sunday treat which, apparently, my memory connected to the radio show.  Here I was at 67 savoring the smells and tastes of a meal I hadn't had in almost 60 years.

So I think the two thoughts, horse and Jack Benny are connected.  I went back to a very peaceful time when all I had to do was sit in the back seat and let the grown ups make the decisions and the world was simple.  Nice little break

procrastinating again

When I started this the plan was to write daily and get into the habit of journalling.  But here i go again, not writing.  So once more.  I hate when the cursor winds up somewhere else and the letters get all jumbled.  Even though I think of myself as tech savvy, my lack of real skill pops up to humble me.

My life is good for now.  Business could be better, but it could always be better.  Living in these interesting times has taught me to appreciate being able to earn a living.  Truly, who do I know from my early times who has a horse, works 20 hours a week and is able to maintain a home, car and some travel? 

My week consists of working Mondays for several hours, wrestling with insurance companies for old claims, Tuesdays a shorter day, Wednesdays i drive up to Bedford, look after my horse, ride, have lunch with friends, shower and go to NJ to work for a few hours.  Thursday is a full day of patients at home and then I am off until Monday.  Okay here is that feeling, the urge to stop writing when there is so much more to say.

My horse, Miles, let me write about him.  Miles is the horse on the right with the blanket on and the white blaze on his face.

This picture was taken in winter and he is not thrilled to be asking for treats when his buddy Teddy is right there to share in it.  Miles is smart enough to know I am his person and this should be his apple.

Not a great picture of him let me try again this one is better.  In the interest of honesty this picture is a few years old.  He still looks great today, in some ways better, but he is definitely older now.  Well so am I so it all evens out.  I guess I could write the story of how I, no it is really WE, got him.  Maybe next time.