Hello Fellow Travelers!
Just when I think I've seen it all something new assaults my sensibilities. I was leafing through this month's In Style and was happily thumbing my way through the huge September issue when I came upon an advertisement so alarming in nature and downright disturbing in color (teal), I did something I've never done: I actually tore out the page for a better look. The ad is for cancer research, of all things, and is presented, oddly enough, by Laura Mercier, manufacturer of fine cosmetics. The offending ad? A pair of big, teal, lips on a white background. Unless you're Yoda or some alien chick expressly charged with the sole purpose of being extra friendly to James T. Kirk you don't find that color on this planet. Laura Mercier? Teal lips? I checked it out with a friend who happens to be a very experienced hospital nurse. She told me if a patient presented with teal lips and a ghostly pallor in her rounds, they'd be checked for death and subsequently hooked up to a lot of machines.
That reminds me, while I'm thinking about it another million dollar idea that reeks in actual practice are these commercials that show some swarthy dude detailing a fancy glass. All the cute guys and all the gold paint only accentuate the fact that this very special glass is destined to hold some very unspecial beer. I don't even drink beer but I'll go out of my way to make sure that no one drinks, buys, or serves this particular beer. (Do you hear me crapmeisters at Stella Artois? I'm talking to you! ) Beer is meant for bottles, cans, mugs, and steins. But stemware? Gold? Etching? Not so much. It is, after all, beer. Not even the "champagne of beers" is anything other than beer. (and no, no one has ever been tempted to pour Miller High Life into a champagne flute at the bowling alley).
Today, though I really wanted to talk to you from the point of view (POV) I have not enjoyed from the wheelchair. I refuse to treat it as anything other than a temporary solution, but it's been more than two and a half years and I need a new wheelchair. But getting one would be tantamount to admitting that I'll never be able to walk again. I have considered many things but being perpetually handicapped is not one of them. I have always stood when I could sit, walked when I could ride. The wheelchair, to me anyway, was a temporary conveyance, at best. By my very nature I don't fit into a wheelchair. I'm OK with not walking but sitting? I'm not OK with sitting, ever! Sitting in a wheelchair blows! For obvious reasons like you are seated where your eye level is at everyone's rear! Holy Crotch Shot, Batman!! But the worst thing about it, what is constant no matter where I go, is that's nobody speaks to the creature in the wheelchair. It doesn't matter to anyone in public why you're in a wheelchair it just matters that you are in one. Gunshot? Blindness from a bomb? A meth lab mishap? Who cares? It doesn't matter what terrible circumstance put you in that chair. It doesn't matter how well you're dressed either because all anyone sees is that you're dressed in a wheelchair. People will try to talk to anyone, anywhere who can save them the task of having any interaction with anyone actually in the wheelchair. You know who talks to you when you're in a wheelchair? Little kids. Little kids see you at eye level and seem genuinely glad. As soon as their handlers see the child is interested in saying "Hi!" or something equally as deep, their handlers quickly swoop in and remove the child before they catch whatever put the poor soul in that chair to begin with. I'm ńowhere near ready to be a member of the disabled wheelchair brigade. So, I will redouble my efforts to rehabilitate my weakened left side which impacts all my motor skills. Every month or so I see various doctors who all seem surprised I'm alive. Only one has ever offered any ideas about regaining some quality of life, and that's the neurosurgeon I see next week.
People that have battery powered scooters with little flags and cupholders seem really committed to their chairs or resigned. I refuse to tender my resignation or look at cupholders! If this is yet another instance of my "brave battle", all I can say is "Bring it!" (The foe, of course, I'm referring to is brain cancer). Oh come on! I didn't get through all this to find out teal lips are in vogue. Really I didn't.
The irony (?) is I feel great! Better than I've felt in years, since the tumor was removed. It's interesting to me how a fraction of difference between the sides of your brain can leave you completely helpless and dizzy. So again, I find myself in generally the same spot I've been in for low these many months: I'm stuck. I keep increasing my physical workouts and strength but I'm open to any suggestions. I'm always dizzy and have no balance. My falls lately are a lot slower and I usually can correct my stance on the way down and I never hit my head.
P.S.- I checked out "Doomsday Castle" and it was not the marital mind meld I was hoping for. Instead it's the bucket list dream of one father with two sets of spoiled kids who want to help their dad realize his vision. The wives (there are three of them) wisely opted out of any castle creating. And this is a castle. It has a drawbridge and a moat and a turret on each corner. It really looks like something made by Fisher Price. I was mistaking The Learrning Channel for where this program is really located, the Nat Geo channel. So because I really want to watch someone build and use a catapult I'll probably watch a couple more episodes but it isn't the Tracy/Hepburn décor vs. Function I was hoping for. If there is anything out there that blends these points of view tell me! Survivalism and good taste don't have to be mutually exclusive do they?
