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| Kay grooms her pet donkey, Patches, a week and a half after returning home from the hospital. |
Other than a mild, barely noticeable memory loss and aphasia, in which she substitutes the wrong word for the word intended, she seems normal. However, they did not want her to drive for a while, and I noticed than she lacked her usual ability to multi-task. She needed to concentrate on one task at a time in order to get things done. I spent 10 and a half days driving her to appointments, running errands with her, and assisting with household chores.
Adjusting to a slower pace was, and continues to be, very frustrating for Kay. She has a "Type A" personality, operates her own business, and is used to 16-hour work days. Habitual jogging, yoga classes and gardening have kept her in great physical condition, which allowed her to cruise thru her physical therapy at a much faster pace than expected. And a trip to the hairdresser solved the "bad hair" caused by the doctors shaving part of her head following the injury.
Kay operates a public relations firm that has a contract with the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey circus. They handle the news releases and much of the advertising and public relations activities whenever the circus is in southern New England. As much as the doctors warned her not to return to work, she begged me to drive her to downtown Hartford for an "elephant brunch" with local Head Start kids and their families. How does a woman say "no" to her childhood roommate and "partner in conspiracy" against neighborhood bullies? I complied.
When she was first discharged from the hospital, Kay was directed to walk with a cane when outdoors or on uneven ground. Since she did not own a cane, she put a spare ski pole into service as her walking stick. By the time I found a parking spot after dropping her off in front of Hartford's Old State House, Kay was barking orders to the Head Start families and staff, using her ski pole as a crowd control device. She later introduced me to the ringmaster, several circus clowns, and to the other people from her firm who had taken over her duties for the event.
After the elephants enjoyed their "brunch" of lettuce, bananas, bread and watermelon, Kay had me drive two of the clowns back to the circus train. (Since elephants travel only by rail or walking, the RBB&B Circus only accepts venues within a mile or so of a railroad siding. The beasts ride in specially designed, extra high, climate-controlled railroad cars. Some of the circus crew ride in sleepers in the same train.)
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| The RBB&B elephants arrive in Hartford. |
Kay operates a public relations firm that has a contract with the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey circus. They handle the news releases and much of the advertising and public relations activities whenever the circus is in southern New England. As much as the doctors warned her not to return to work, she begged me to drive her to downtown Hartford for an "elephant brunch" with local Head Start kids and their families. How does a woman say "no" to her childhood roommate and "partner in conspiracy" against neighborhood bullies? I complied.
When she was first discharged from the hospital, Kay was directed to walk with a cane when outdoors or on uneven ground. Since she did not own a cane, she put a spare ski pole into service as her walking stick. By the time I found a parking spot after dropping her off in front of Hartford's Old State House, Kay was barking orders to the Head Start families and staff, using her ski pole as a crowd control device. She later introduced me to the ringmaster, several circus clowns, and to the other people from her firm who had taken over her duties for the event.
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| Kay used her ski pole for crowd control. |
Throughout my stay, I observed Kay's need for more rest than usual, but I also observed that she is extremely eager to get back to "normal." And for her, there is a good probability that she will make a full recovery. Except, of course, for the limitations that aging puts on all of us.
I'm part of an on-line community entitled "Changing Aging." The general tone of this group is that there is no reason for older people to slow down, retire, be subjected to "age discrimination" or change their lifestyles to "accommodate" the aging process. For the most part, a positive approach toward the aging process is preferable to a negative one. But a few of my colleagues seem to think that people should be able to avoid the infirmities of old age until, some fine day, they drop dead of a heart attack while walking home from the post office. (Or, as humorist Garrison Keillor once fantasized, they keel over while having a beer at the local tavern after their girlfriend's husband shoots them in the back.)
Although Ben Franklin's old adage that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" may delay some disabilities, it is not realistic to presume that a positive attitude, regular exercise, a nutritious diet and consumption of dietary supplements will prevent all the ravages of age. Cancer and dementia happen to people from all walks of life, who have made all kinds of lifestyle choices. Even lifestyle-related conditions like heart disease, lung cancer and diabetes have a hereditary component. Disciplined people who have made admirable choices can and do succumb to chronic disease. In addition, accidents can happen to anyone--even healthy people like my sister. To suggest otherwise is to engage in "blaming the victim."
When I hear someone brag that, "They'll never put me in a nursing home," I shudder. How does that person know that disability will never happen to them? It is delusive to make this kind of assumption, or to arm-twist spouses or children into making caregiving promises they may not be able to keep.
So how is one to approach aging? Several people have criticized me for my reluctance to fully retire. I desire to keep busy, doing practical, useful work and helping others. I continue to set goals. I continue to accept positions on various committees and boards. Six weeks ago, I began writing again for a newspaper on occasion, after a 10-year hiatus.
Yet I also need to admit that there are a few projects, a few challenges I will never be able to complete. There are some "dream vacations" that my husband and I may take--and a few more we probably will not take. I won't climb mountains (except perhaps in a car or on a ski lift) and I probably will never learn to ride a surfboard. And even if a company or agency WAS willing to hire a 66-year-old woman full time, I probably should not try to work 40 hours a week any longer, in addition to keeping up our home and yard. I simply do not have as much physical stamina as I once had, and it seems to take a little longer to absorb new information.
So I work a few part-time gigs instead. Most of them allow flexibility in the hours of work. I can sit down and take a break as needed. I don't have to punch a clock. It's okay.
My sister called this evening, all excited. The doctor told her today that she could resume driving again. I was happy for her, but advised her that her days of driving while talking on her cell phone should be over. "We're better off focusing on one task at a time," I said.
"I have even started putting on my makeup at home, too," she admitted.
I laughed. "No more mascara while looking in the visor mirror at a stoplight. Good choice."
Although Ben Franklin's old adage that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" may delay some disabilities, it is not realistic to presume that a positive attitude, regular exercise, a nutritious diet and consumption of dietary supplements will prevent all the ravages of age. Cancer and dementia happen to people from all walks of life, who have made all kinds of lifestyle choices. Even lifestyle-related conditions like heart disease, lung cancer and diabetes have a hereditary component. Disciplined people who have made admirable choices can and do succumb to chronic disease. In addition, accidents can happen to anyone--even healthy people like my sister. To suggest otherwise is to engage in "blaming the victim."
When I hear someone brag that, "They'll never put me in a nursing home," I shudder. How does that person know that disability will never happen to them? It is delusive to make this kind of assumption, or to arm-twist spouses or children into making caregiving promises they may not be able to keep.
So how is one to approach aging? Several people have criticized me for my reluctance to fully retire. I desire to keep busy, doing practical, useful work and helping others. I continue to set goals. I continue to accept positions on various committees and boards. Six weeks ago, I began writing again for a newspaper on occasion, after a 10-year hiatus.
Yet I also need to admit that there are a few projects, a few challenges I will never be able to complete. There are some "dream vacations" that my husband and I may take--and a few more we probably will not take. I won't climb mountains (except perhaps in a car or on a ski lift) and I probably will never learn to ride a surfboard. And even if a company or agency WAS willing to hire a 66-year-old woman full time, I probably should not try to work 40 hours a week any longer, in addition to keeping up our home and yard. I simply do not have as much physical stamina as I once had, and it seems to take a little longer to absorb new information.
So I work a few part-time gigs instead. Most of them allow flexibility in the hours of work. I can sit down and take a break as needed. I don't have to punch a clock. It's okay.
My sister called this evening, all excited. The doctor told her today that she could resume driving again. I was happy for her, but advised her that her days of driving while talking on her cell phone should be over. "We're better off focusing on one task at a time," I said.
"I have even started putting on my makeup at home, too," she admitted.
I laughed. "No more mascara while looking in the visor mirror at a stoplight. Good choice."
