It's April

Check out my little stick figure at the bottom of the page. My legs are orange. It being 1 April, I updated my FRS... I turned 30, down from last month's score of 34. Quite a drop.

Contributing to the lower score: stair climbing, using a wheelchair (even part-time), and my speech. An interesting note on that last. My dear friend Kenny called me today and did not recognize my voice. He said I sounded hoarse and that my speech was altered. Because I do not speak with Kenny every day he would not be aware of the gradual change which has clearly taken place. What is interesting to note is that I am not freaked out by the lower number or by Kenny's observation; rather, I feel detached and unsurprised. Have I moved to a new level of acceptance?

So, Rose was supposed to come over tonight and assist me. I was actually looking very forward to the evening but, just before I left work, I had a message from daughter number three who was still looking for a dress to take to California. I had tasked her with finding one so she would have something nice to wear to church. Because scheduling over the next few days is very tight, I had to take her to the store tonight which meant I had to cancel Rose. Fortunately Cecilia was able to help me with what I needed to do this evening.

We took the wheelchair with us, a first for Cecilia. She loaded it into the back seat of the Honda and away we went. As everyone knows it takes a good deal of strength to push a manual wheelchair, particularly one that is loaded with a certain land m-ass, and my dear daughter had her work cut out for her. She succeeded in rolling me out of the parking lot and into the mall, however, no doubt motivated by her objective.

Happily our visit was short and Cecilia found what she wanted fairly quickly. While I was waiting (out in the main corridor because I detest this particular store's "ambience") I amused myself by watching the people who passed by. The old saying "birds of a feather flock together" must have been coined after a visit to a local shopping center. The rednecks in their ballcaps, the old women with frizzy perms, the teenage girls with rounded shoulders and flip flops -- quite a number of species were represented.

Cecilia at last emerged carrying a bag and we made our way back to the car. I'm certain everyone who saw Cecilia wheel me out felt very safe when they saw me get into the driver's seat! The rest of the evening was uneventful. My dear daughter, still riding the wave of a new purchase, prepared my dinner, helped with laundry, and helped me before and after my shower. She was not Rose but she smelled as sweet. (I know, I couldn't help myself.)

Next up: clinic.