OVERLOAD

2011 August 27

Emotions at the moment red-lining for me.

This week included an earthquake rumbling, a personal moment of panic at the realization that we are about 10 weeks from our planned departure date, watching the coverage on Hurricane Irene and the straw threatening to break this camel's back, gunshots today, again in the alley next to our house.

I have been in a sort of frozen emotional state for awhile. I shared this with a couple of friends who have been in similar situations and they have assured me that eventually I will cry again. I am close right now, but afraid to really "let go", because I need to be strong and get through this life change first.

For those who don't know, we plan to hit the road in our new RV in early November and travel this marvelous area known as North America. We plan to put the house up for sale before we leave. There is still a lot to be done. And my dear husband is recuperating with a ruptured Achilles tendon, so he can't do much at the moment. Preparing for a huge life change can be stressful. And as an overly emotional individual, I have been keeping myself wrapped up pretty tightly to avoid unnecessary meltdowns. The result is, though I tear up and feel sad occasionally, I haven't actually cried in at least 2 months.

This afternoon, 11 or 12 shots rang out in the alley next to our house. I heard people running. I went into our sun porch to look out to see if I could tell what was happening. (The alley ends right along side our house when it intersects with our front street.) What I saw was a family, Mom and a few kids, one of whom was hunkered down wearing his Sponge Bob backpack. This little guy looked to be maybe 9 or 10. He was peering around the brick building across the alley from our house. As I watched, he jumped up and started to run back down the alley in the direction from which he had just come. His Mom, had a child in a stroller and maybe another kid, too. There may have been another woman with another child across the street, too, according to my husband. My impression was that the kid was watching for the shooter and had backtracked because the shooter was now at the Woodland Avenue intersection close to our end of the alley, instead of the opposite intersection, McDowell St, from where we originally heard the shots.

I went to the other room to call 911, which is why I didn't notice the family directly across the street from our house, on the other side of Stayton St. While I was on hold with 911 (ON HOLD! Can you believe it?) I began to shake a little. To be fair, I was only on hold for about 25 seconds, but still! The 911 operator took all the information I could supply, asked appropriate questions and said responders would be sent. Shortly afterward, we heard the police presence driving along all the streets we had mentioned.

I have no idea what happened, either before or after this shooting. What I do know is that the tight wrap I've had on myself is starting to fray. Although I am no longer shaking physically, I am shaking emotionally. As I type, I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I'm not ready to let them fall yet, though. What if I start to cry and can't stop?

INERTIA

2011 Aug 25

Our plan is to get on the road, in our RV, on or around, November 7. That is just a little over 10 weeks away! Yet, here I sit, on the love seat, with my laptop open, while there is still so much to be accomplished. What in the world is wrong with me?

Yes, some things have been sold. There are items earmarked for folks that I need to deliver to them or that they need to arrange pick up for. Some things can't be given away until they are no longer needed, for example: our bed, love seat, recliner, stove and refrigerator. Yet there are many items lingering that could be gone. Lamps! We have more lamps than you can imagine. Christmas decorations! Dining room table and chairs, bookcases. Why are these things still here? Why haven't I delivered the two dressers and kitchen rack to my sister, along with the computer? Why am I sitting here typing instead of clearing and cleaning the sun porch or the basement?

Yes, I am lazy, that's a given. But it seems like it goes beyond simple laziness. Each night I head off to bed, determined that I will awake in the AM and make a dent in our crap. Yet, each morning, I arise feeling sluggish and unmotivated. I am like that road to hell. The one that's paved with good intentions.

Non-accomplishment does nothing for my self esteem. In fact, it can open the door to a downward depressive cycle. Maybe that's why I'm blogging about it. The need to face off with these feelings before they begin to run the show. Been there and done that! Do NOT wish to repeat those behaviors.

Add to the equation the fact that Raymond is currently unable to help lug, carry and move things. He sees the Ortho doc right after Labor Day. But even if he is making as miraculous a recovery as he keeps claiming, I don't see Raymond being able to carry boxes or help with the clean out until sometime after mid to late September. There is also the issue of what we each view as essential to have done before calling a real estate agent. This is an area where we are miles apart.

In my scenario, we get rid of all but the MOST essential things (see earlier portion of post). Then we begin a rigid cleaning, scrubbing, deodorizing and disinfecting campaign, which may include taking up the very old carpet from the first floor. We do not (on this we DO agree) plan to do any major work in the house. The plan has been and continues to be, to sell it, "as is". The fly in the ointment seems to be defining what we each consider to be "major" and "as is". For me it is doing the above stated cleaning, etc, along with finishing some half finished projects. For instance, there is a kitchen counter lying up against the wall in the hallway, which I think needs to be installed. There is a partially laid floor in the bathroom that needs to be finished. And I little painting in the kitchen, as well. For Raymond it is doing nothing! No, I'm not kidding; he actually said, "Well, we're selling it as is, who cares? It's not our problem, it's the problem of whoever buys the house." That was his response when I said that we would really need to do some major cleaning.

So there you have it. the summary of why I'm feeling overwhelmed and under-motivated.

In the middle of feeling all this chaos yesterday, both physically and emotionally, I sent a message to a local Facebook friend. She is a professional organizer. She was at one time, one of the owners of a local resale shop. So, I messaged her, explaining my dilemma and asking whether she was still involved with the resale store and also whether she could help me. My thinking being that if Raymond hears something from an outside third party, it may be more readily taken in than if it were just coming from me. We'll see. I haven't heard from Melanie yet . I do hope I hear from her soon.

In the meantime, I think I'll take a trash bag into the sun porch... Doing something, anything, has got to be more productive than worrying about what I haven't done yet.

A Day of Excitement

2011 August 24

Yesterday was pretty exciting! In fact, it was so exciting that I almost forgot to write about it. Well, didn't forget exactly, just got so tired that I went to bed before 7:30 PM. Don't judge me! Apparently earthquakes can really suck the energy out of a person. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

The day started off with a visit to my Urologist for my regular three month cystoscopy. Dr. T saw no new tumors! YEA!!!! And double YEA, since that means that I get bumped up to every six month cystoscopes now. I forgot to ask him how long I have to be tumor free to get bumped to once yearly, but I'll ask him when I see him in six months! Curious too to find out how long I must remain tumor free to be considered cancer free.

After the doc, I picked up my brother and we had a late breakfast together. That was nice. One of the things I will miss when we're traveling is those occasional breakfasts with Vinny. Is it odd that one of my brother's is my best friend? Well, even if it is, I don't really care. He's one of only a few people whom I know I can always count on.

When I dropped him off, our Daddy snoozing on the front porch so I just headed home.

I hadn't been home very long, when there was a shaking of our whole house. Truth be told, I was in the bathroom and thought I was hallucinating at first. The bathroom window seemed to be moving in and out. I also had a strange butterflies - in - my - stomach feeling, as if we were moving up and down in an elevator. As I ran down the stairs to the first floor, yelling, "Raymond, did you feel that?" I was pretty sure it had been an earthquake.

Now, I have heard about animals who react prior to such occurrences. Let me assure you, Greyla is not one of those wonder dogs! Before I had ventured to the second floor, I had been on the front porch, reading the newspaper. Greyla was stretched out on the glider. She did not move from her spot, neither to accompany me indoors, nor, apparently as a result of any rocking and shaking the house did. I looked out to find her still in her recumbent position on the porch glider, oblivious to any earth movement. I find it a little odd that a dog who goes on alert at the sound of people talking a block away, has no apparent reaction to the rumbling of the earth. Oh well, she IS an enigma.

Since we wanted confirmation of what we assumed to be an earthquake, I went immediately to the Internet. Doesn't everyone? Sure enough, at http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsus/ I was able to get the scoop and was amazed that it was felt as far north as New England.

All in all, the day must have taken a lot out of me, because at 7:15, I headed to off bed. Did that earthquake sap anyone else's energy? Maybe it was just a coincidence, although I don't believe in coincidences.

"We're Not Lumberjacks..."

2011 August 14

The first clue that we are not lumberjacks, should have been the fact that we do not own a chainsaw. We do, however, own a reciprocating saw which we use like it's a chainsaw!

Raymond was determined to remove a large branch from the maple tree which grows next to the spot where we park our RV. He had already removed an offending portion of the branch when it proved to be too close to the ladder on the RV. Now, he was simply making sure no part of this tree limb ever came in contact with our home on wheels again.

I had just driven us home from our first weekend camping in the RV and went in the house to have an iced tea and a little rest while Raymond plied his skills as a tree limb amputater. Raymond assured me that it would take him "about 30 minutes" to trim off what he felt was necessary. After about an hour, I thought I should see if I could help in any way.

The offending branch was very long and very thick. I took a turn at trimming some of the lesser branches, so Raymond could take a little break. This was a much bigger job than either of us anticipated. But, we kept at it. Little by little, we were piling up a whole lot of maple tree in our yard and there was still a lot to go!

Eventually, we had managed to trim away many of the smaller branches and were left staring up at the main branch which needed to come down, according to my dear husband. The problem was that the branch was very tall and very thick. The branch was going to be taken down in increments, because otherwise it would simply be too heavy. We put all of our skills to use and attempted to predict which way the top portion of the branch would fall. Then Raymond took his turn climbing the ladder, but he wasn't happy with its placement, so he came down, repositioned it and scaled it again. It was a humid day and we were hot and sticky. In spite of that we were trying to hold on to all the good feelings we had from our successes during our first weekend away in the RV.

Raymond was concerned that the branch might fall onto our fence, while I was certain it would fall onto the cement area where our garage used to be. We were both wrong!

Raymond was standing on the eight foot ladder, about five feet off the ground. I was attempting to hold the ladder steady, directly behind him, but on the ground. When the branch fell, it came straight down, just to the left of Raymond. It grazed his arm and then continued downward until it hit the support brace on the side of the ladder. It was so heavy, that it broke the support brace. As the support broke, the ladder toppled to the right, causing Raymond to drop in the opposite direction. It all happened so fast. Suddenly, the ladder was laying on it's side off to my right and my husband was laying on his side off to my left. As I began to step toward Raymond, something told me to look where I was stepping. It was that still, small voice that kept me from walking directly onto the saw blade. Raymond had locked it in the "on" position and it was still going! My first thought as I reached out to Raymond was that he had dislocated his left shoulder this time, because it looked like he had landed on his shoulder. But, he said that the pain he was experiencing was in his left leg. Let me just say that Raymond is usually very accurate in self-diagnosing injuries. Probably all the years he spent playing various sports and having all sorts of sports related injuries have given him a pretty good basis for recognizing what part of him is hurt and how badly. This time, as he tried to stand, he said, "I ruptured my Achilles tendon."

We took a trip to the ER, where I left him, while I went to see if any of my brothers could help me finish the task Raymond and I had started. This was the only way I could get Raymond to go to the ER. He wanted to finish removing the tree limbs from the parking pad, so that we could pull the RV into the yard. He was concerned that if we left the RV in the parking lot, someone might vandalize it. I promised him, that while he was at the ER, my brothers and I would clean up the tree cuttings and pull the RV into the yard. And when that was accomplished, I would come back to the hospital to get him.

Thank goodness for Vinny and Davey. They came over, got blistered hands, sweaty bodies and sore muscles, but that branch surrendered! We got the part that Raymond had cut cleared away and then finished cutting the remainder of it. Then, with them guiding me, the RV got backed into the yard without any new damage!

I dropped my brothers off at their house and headed back to St Margaret's ER to check on Raymond's status. He was in an exam room, waiting for the CRNP to return. He was accurate in his diagnosis, the ER doc confirmed that he did indeed have a ruptured Achilles tendon. He came home with a hard boot/cast on his left foot and leg, crutches, a prescription for pain killers and instructions to call the orthopedic group in the morning and to keep his left leg non-weight bearing. The CRNP suggested that he shouldn't climb stairs and should stay in bed, with his leg elevated, except for bathroom trips until he could see the orthopedic doctor. Yeah, right!

I love my husband, but he is not a compliant patient. Thank goodness he only had to wait until Tuesday morning to see the doctor.

In spite of the fact that it is a ruptured tendon, the doctor and Raymond have decided to go with the more conservative treatment. No surgery. Raymond is wearing a lovely black boot with an slightly elevated heel and major support from his toes to his knee. He will be wearing it for at least four to six weeks, possibly longer. The good news is that he is permitted to weight bear slightly, as long as the device is properly in place and he is getting better using his crutches.

And the lesson learned? We are NOT lumberjacks!

So Many Firsts

2011 August 14

We picked a lovely weekend for our first trip in our motor home. The moon was nearly full. We hoped to be far enough away from light pollution to see part of the meteor shower. At 3 AM, on our first night at the campground, Greyla indicated she wanted to go out, so we crept quietly out into the moonlight. It was so peaceful. There were only the sounds of crickets, cicadas and the occasional snoring camper, along with our footsteps. Walking along with the moon lighting our way through the campground, I felt safe, as if I was strolling through my own little village. It's such a foreign feeling for an urban dweller like myself. Even with my dog and my husband along, caution dictates that we never walk in our neighborhood after dark, let alone at 3 AM! As I shared this experience with another camper in the morning, she smiled, as if she truly understood. And she assured me that it is a feeling I will have in many places, as we travel.

Earlier, we had each taken our first shower in the RV. Even though we were hooked up to the park water supply, I practiced taking a quick shower, using the on/off valve on the handheld shower unit. Raymond didn't. He said there would be other times when he could practice taking a quick shower. Most impressive to me, was how hot the water from our little six gallon water heater got. Am I silly to be grateful for such things?

Since I had forgotten coffee mugs, that hot water, directly from the kitchen faucet was how we made our instant coffee. Again, I was impressed by how well that hot water heater works! Usually, I am a 'real' coffee snob, but by the end of the trip, I'd started thinking that instant wasn't so bad, after all. That was a first I never anticipated!

We cooked our dinner the old fashioned way, on the wood fire in our fire ring. Well, the hot dogs and baked potatoes, anyway. The creamed spinach we heated in the microwave - another first! All in all, the meal was very good, especially since Raymond loves hotdogs and in spite of the fact that we had neglected to bring butter for the potatoes.

As we went to bed on Saturday night, Raymond had the forethought to wind the awning in because he thought we might have rain. Since we were heading back home on Sunday, he didn't want to roll up a wet awning in the morning. About 1:30AM we heard the pitter-patter on raindrops. Raymond was right about the weather and we were experiencing another first - our first rainfall in the motor home.

Sunday morning was going to be the test. It would be the first time we emptied our tanks. Raymond, not only read the manual,but also, spied on our next door neighbor as he drained his tanks, hoping to glean some practical knowledge. We opened our brand new sewer hose and accessories package, hoping we wouldn't have a poop disaster. We did good! We managed to hook everything up properly, with no leaks and not a drop of sewage anywhere it shouldn't have been. Another first! I was very proud of us.

We were very happy with the weekend, and with how well we handled all these firsts. There had been little glitches here and there, but we faced each one and worked through it to a solution. (With the exception of the TV). We headed home relaxed and happy. We were planning when we would take our next trip and where we would go. And we were talking about all the places we want to visit when Raymond's retirement date comes around in the first week of November.

When we arrived home, Raymond suggested that I park in the grocery store lot, directly behind our house. He wanted to take off more of the offending tree limb which had caused the original crunch to our ladder, before we pulled the RV into the yard. When he assured me, "It will only take a half hour," I knew he was under-estimating. I only wish I had realized what would come next. But, since it wasn't a first, I'll tell you about it in my next installment.

Our First Camping Adventure, Part 3

2011 August 13

We had a little disappointment on Friday evening. Raymond was hoping, actually, planning, to watch the Steeler preseason game against the Redskins. He couldn't get the TV in the motor home to work. No matter what he tried. He read and reread the TV manual and the Thor manual, but couldn't get any reception. He played with the antenna. He pressed buttons on the remote. Then he pressed buttons on the TV. He tried one thing and then another. Still, no reception. The campground supposedly had access to several channels. The TV supposedly has a built in converter, so a digital converter box isn't necessary.

At first, I felt really bad for him. I mean, it was the first preseason game and he really DID want to see it. TV was very low on my list of priorities. In fact, television hadn't even made it onto my list at all. But I understood Raymond's frustration, if it had been hockey season I would've been in his shoes.

In spite of his frustration, Raymond would not ask any of our neighbors or the camp hosts for assistance. When I suggested it, he insisted that this was a problem he needed to figure out for himself. So, he continued to read manuals and press a variety of buttons throughout Friday night . When I got up on Saturday morning, he was at it again. Determination alone, however, was not sufficient to get TV reception.

By the time we left the campground on Sunday, Raymond was was no closer to TV programing. And I was feeling less sympathetic. In fact, I was wondering why he didn't find it as ironic as I did, that he had spent so much time trying to resolve the issue of TV reception when we had a beautiful nearly full moon and had hoped for a glimpse of the Perseid meteor shower.

I'm thinking it's a guy thing. But I guess we'll find out when the Pens hit the ice.

2011 August Part 2

2011 August 12 Part 2

So much to learn. So much to try and remember. So different from camping in a tent. Just as different from renting a vacation house. And different really, from how it will be when we are full timing, too. Currently, we are in the in between stage; still living in the brick and stick house, but getting accustomed to the motor home.

We haven't really tent camped in years. Once we realized that we could rent a house for vacations, sleep in a bed and cook in an equipped kitchen, and bring the dogs, while being only steps from the beach, we took the lazy way out. In recent years, our vacation houses even have the linens provided and the beds made upon our arrival. So, let's just say we became somewhat spoiled.

Packing up the RV for a short journey north required a different mind set from packing for a rented house at the beach. It also is a slightly different approach from packing for tent camping. Let's face it, we're on a learning curve here that is outside of our experience. It's going to take a little time and patience for us to get it right.

Nice to smell the woodsmoke of campfires. Good to have a bed to sleep in. Really nice to have your very own toilet and shower. Better if we had remembered to pack the soap and shampoo. Well, at least we have towels and toilet paper.

Cups for morning coffee? Oops. But we did remember the 24oz Teva tumblers. Too bad they're not microwave safe. To be honest, the only coffee we brought was instant, because I didn't want to drag the coffee maker out of the house for two days. So it would've been a good idea to bring microwavable cups. Live and learn.

"Did you pack paper plates and plastic utensils?" "Yes". Only at dinner, there were no knives for cutting anything. Oh well, adapt.

We did remember both the dog's dishes and her food. Apparently we find it easier to care for her than for ourselves. Or, maybe she just requires so much less than we do. It's all a learning process, what to bring; how to work the equipment; what's necessary and what isn't.

We are simply content and grateful we have the option. The learning will come in time.

2011 August 12, Part 1

Our maiden trip in the RV started out to be a little challenging.

First, we couldn't get the fridge to run using gas. Then according to the gauge, we didn't have any propane. Deciding what to pack is always tough with us, because I am fairly minimalist and the DH wants all sorts of doodads. The poor dog was a stress ball. Many things would be simplified if we were currently living in the motor home, as opposed to taking off for a few days. And lastly, the ever present obstacle of getting through the minimum clearance of our gate without any scrapes or bumps.

The drive north on 79 was pleasant. We left early enough that we didn't get too bogged down in the traffic at Wexford. We had one little scare, as an 18 wheeler pulled alongside us. Turned out he was trying to get our attention to let us know that the rear storage compartment door was flapping. Apparently, we hadn't locked it properly. But, it was an easy fix, although pulling out into traffic again from the shoulder was somewhat hairy.

There was something very relaxing about just setting the cruise control, staying in the right lane and letting the world drive past us. We had no time table, no schedule and no "personal best" time to beat. (I tend to compete against myself when I am driving a route that I have driven often. For instance, my personal best to Corolla is 9.30 hours.) But this time, even though 79N is a road well traveled by us, there was no pressure, no race against the clock. We had reservations at a campground and we'd get there when we get there.

When we arrived, the camp hostess, Betsy, couldn't have been kinder. We explained that we would need to purchase propane and she told us that her husband, Jim, would escort us to our site and he would help us with anything we needed.

Jim turned out to be a font of information and anecdotes. And even though I was the one driving, he shared his expertise more readily with Raymond, for which I was grateful. Upon opening the compartment where the propane is located, Jim showed us how to turn on the valve. Yep, the fridge wouldn't work because we didn't open the valve! Go ahead, laugh at us, we did! Jim also shared his hard gained wisdom of the black tank, it's use and how and when to empty it. This is an area of knowlege male RVers enjoy sharing. This isn't the first time one has offered his experience. Thanks, guys, we appreciate it. And I appreciate that you mainly want to share this wisdom with my dear husband.

After making sure we were situated appropriately to allow for ease of hook up and operation of the slide out and awning, we settled in. Water, check; electricity, check; sewage, not yet. OK, we're good to begin this next step in the adventure.

It was surprisingly warm, so we turned on the AC before venturing outside. Greyla was still a little stressed, but calmed down considerably once we had the camp chairs out with her water bowl in easy reach. The campground has a sign, as you enter, "RELAX, YOU'RE HERE". Ah, a motto to be taken to heart.

Finally It Can Be Revealed

This morning we had an appointment to get the motorhome PA safety inspected at Jeff Critchlow Auto Care on Babcock Blvd. We are now at home, with the RV tucked safely into its spot in the yard, with brand new PA State inspection stickers proudly displayed on our windshield. It means that when we have the money, our adventure can begin, legally.

Before I share a back story that I have been silent about, allow me to give a thank you to the mechanic who did the inspection, Darren. Great guy! He helped us with some glitches that we have had and shared with us from his accumulated knowledge as an RVer himself for many years.

The "back story" is one that brings me shame and embarrassment.

After our last venture out in the RV, as I was attempting to back through the 9' 3" opening in our fence with our 8' 6" motorhome, I had an accident. Since I must pull the side view mirrors in, in order to clear the opening, I must fully rely on Raymond to get me in without hitting anything. As we were attempting this particular feat, I answered incorrectly when Raymond asked if I needed him in front of me, in the grocery store parking lot, OR behind me, in our yard. Because I was stressed, hot and frustrated, I said that I didn't care where he was as long as he realized he was now my eyes, because I was backing up blind. He opted to stay in the parking lot, in front of the vehicle, probably because he was stressed, tired, hot and annoyed with my tone. Oops!

As I moved the beast backward, slowly, I heard a loud "C R U N C H". I immediately hit the brake, as my stomach fell below my knees and my anxiety level rose to new heights. To Raymond, I yelled, "What the hell did I hit?!" I sat in the cab of the vehicle, feeling sick, angry and incredibly stupid! Raymond reported that I had hit the tree, which according to him, "knocked out a taillight & bent the ladder". Now I am really a mess! So, I got out and went to survey the damage. Apparently, the nub that remained from a tree limb previously removed, had caught the top of the RV ladder, bending it and thereby causing the ladder to break one of the lights at the top of the vehicle, as well as cause a split to the corner of the vehicle's fiberglass. I felt seriously ill.

I also felt angry, mostly at Raymond. Realizing that this was completely irrational anger, I managed to tamp it down enough that I didn't become a screaming banshee. My rational mind, which, doesn't always get a lot of playtime, kept reminding me that I was the one who had failed to insist that Raymond guide from the yard, where this may have been avoided. Desperately wanting to cry, but unable to(that's a story for another time), we managed to get the RV into the yard without further damage, either to it or to our marriage.

So, when I called to make the inspection appointment, I failed to mention this occurrence. Seems I should have. This is where Darren comes in. As the inspection mechanic of a "new" vehicle, he couldn't allow the broken light atop the rear end, nor did he feel the broken piece of ladder at the top was stable enough to, say, NOT come loose and hit someone as we cruise down the highway. He took a few minutes and went to get a new light cover and he removed the broken section of the ladder. He then asked Raymond to come into the service bay, so that they could talk. He shared many RV pointers with my dear husband and asked if Raymond wanted him to remove the vestiges of yellow paint that remained from my BP gas fill up excursion, no charge. [I blogged about that already. Another humbling, embarrassing moment.] We also both spoke with him about the split caused by the ladder meeting the tree. He explained to us how to fix that ourselves. Darren, you are a good man.

So, now, the RV is inspected. It is safely ensconced in its place inside our fenced yard. Our relationship survived a bump. I learned to hold my tongue. We both learned that guiding the RV requires enormous patience. And, I learned that even when there is a huge screw up, it's NOT the end of the world!

Next step, heading out for several days at a local campground to get our feet wet, so to speak. All we need is for Raymond to have several days off work in a row. You would think that should be easy for a retired guy. Well, if my retired guy didn't also have a "retirement job" at Macy's, it probably would be!

Summer Of Sweat

Today I want to share a helpful hint. I am a little hesitant to do this, for fear of evoking the "Too much information" response. However, in an era where we are bombarded with pharmaceutical ads for erectile dysfunction and ads for feminine hygiene products and lingerie ads that seem more like soft core porn than actual adverts, I've decided that this is actually a public service announcement.

The heat and humidity in Pittsburgh and indeed, in North America must have caused more women to struggle with this issue than just me. The problem is sweat. Not just the "glow" we women are supposed to attain in the summer (Horses sweat; men perspire; women glow), but the agonizing under breast sweat that cause chaffing and sometimes fungal infections under our breasts and in any area where breasts meet other flesh.

Several years ago, both a sweet older lady friend at church and my PCP, recommended using an athlete's foot, anti-fungal cream. This does work. My goal in this heat however is to prevent such rashes from taking hold to begin with.

My internet search lead to several sites that offer reusable pads to place in our bras to absorb excess sweat. While they may or may not work, looking at them sparked an idea in me.

In my bathroom closet I have an box of panti-liners. Since I am well past the need to use them for their intended purpose, yet too frugal to throw them away, I was happy for this light bulb moment!

So, here you go! Before putting on your bra, take a panti-liner and place in to the cup of your bra, in the area most afflicted by sweat. This area should be easy to recognize by the persistent stain that, despite use of a multitude of stain removers, continues to leave it's mark.You simply press the adhesive side to the bra, to allow the absorbent side to contact your skin. Seriously! If the bra you are wearing isn't quite as "uplifting" as it once was, you can add to the absorbency effect by also placing a panti-liner on the outside, to prevent inadvertent contact with your skin. I kid you not, this works!

Depending on your activity level and the heat index, you may have to change these little helpers a couple of times during the course of the day. But if you can avoid experiencing that awful, unpleasant and sometimes painful rash, why wouldn't you? I suggest buying the cheap store brand, unscented. I mean why waste extra money on "delicate scent" or "odor fighting" when it's just going to absorb sweat and then be thrown away. And you really must change them when you become aware of dampness, because to keep them on after that defeats the purpose and invites fungus. And don't get all freaked out about fungus; it's everywhere! The idea is to prevent it from taking up residence and growth. To do that, dryness is essential, so bust out those panti-liners, women!

And you thought the days of stuffing your bra were over! HA!

Gassing Up

Yesterday, Raymond and I took the dog and went for a brief drive in the RV, essentially to get gas. There is a gas station about three blocks from our house, but we avoided gassing up there because of the small area, which would require skills I barely have in the SUV, in regard to tight turns. So, we headed down Ohio River Blvd to a large gas station.

I made the turn off the blvd between the thrift store and the gas station, thinking to enter from the area above the station, thereby allowing us to be pointed head first toward the adjoining street for easy egress to the light and an relatively easy turn back onto the blvd. The thought was, easy in and easy out. Oops! Wrong again! There used to be access. Apparently the owners of the gas station felt the need to fence off that area.

I fear I allowed this to cause some major anxiety. I now had to enter traffic on Elizabeth St and then make a left turn into the gas station. Why is it these little glitches are the ones that mess with my head the most?

Providentially, the gas station was nearly empty.

I decided to access the pump closest to the main road, hoping for a way out that wouldn't involve trying to cut around the pumps to get back to Elizabeth Street and what I saw as easier access to Ohio River Blvd via the traffic light. I should have been focused on the moment, instead of worrying about how I'd get out.

As I turned off Elizabeth into the gas station, I forgot to think about pivot points and how the motorhome turns differently from the Mazda. "C ... R ... U ... N ... C ... H," is what I heard. I had scrunched into one of those brightly painted barriers they place alongside the pumps so that you don't hit the actual gas pump!

I backed up; made the appropriate adjustment and pulled alongside the pump. I was mortified! We haven't even made the first payment yet! At first, I wanted to take it as a sign that we are not meant to do this. That's how much I let this get to me. Thank goodness for my dear husband. We got out, looked at the crunch and he said, "That's no big deal! Besides, now we don't have to worry about the first scratch." I was still feeling embarrassed, but also blessed. How is it that R takes things so much in stride and with an eye to the bigger picture? After filling the tank, which surprisingly cost less than what we had anticipated, R assisted me in checking for traffic so that I could pull out of the gas station directly onto the Blvd, eliminating any need for tight turns back onto Elizabeth St. As we headed back the way we had come, R continued to be supportive and encouraging. Then, as we approached Marshall Avenue and the posted detours, I realized that we would have to make a left turn, followed quickly by moving into the right lane and taking a relatively hard right onto Superior Avenue, in order to get back home. R continued to offer support and even said that I should consider how much easier driving the open road would seem compared to navigating city streets. We made it back into the grocery store parking lot behind our house without further incident. Now, the tricky part where I have to back up through the gate to our yard with just several inches clearance on each side of the motorhome. Then, back the rest of the way in blind,depending on R to make sure of clearance, as the mirrors must be pulled all the way in, to fit through the gate.

We made it!

Seems the most important lessons I learned in that short little trip were: Be prepared; Stay present in the moment; Adjust; Trust R to assist; and Laugh at yourself.

The last one comes as a result of our neighbor who looked at the yellow paint along the bottom of the slide and said, "Hey! You need to sign it! That's what they do at Talladega!"

Yesterday, THE Day!

Yesterday was THE DAY! We drove out to Akron to pick up our new motorhome!

In the time since we signed all the paperwork, my anxiety level has been constantly rising. So much so that I was having constant tension headaches. One of my biggest concerns before actually picking up the RV was if I could possibly drive 30 feet of Class C machinery safely. The never-ending headache was the result. The excellent news is that the headache is gone! I'm not sure of the actual timing of when the tension lifted, but somewhere on the road between Akron and Pittsburgh, I became aware that I no longer had pain just below the mastoid bones and at the junction of my skull and neck.

"We" includes Raymond, my brother Vinny, our dog Greyla and me. The reason Vinny was along was to drive our Mazda back, following me in order to critique my motorhome driving. Greyla was along because R wanted her there.

The RV is now in our back yard. Mostly. We still have some details to work out so that we can get it all the way into the yard and close the gate. That we'll work on when R gets home from work today.

There are many more details of this pick up story to be told, but first I need to come to grips with the reality of the fact that we are indeed RV owners and I think I can drive this baby!

A New Beginning?

The verse I posted on Facebook last night was the first thing I read yesterday. [Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. http://bible.us/Phil4.6.NIV]. A pastor friend of mine in NC had it as his status yesterday. And it just seemed to set the tone for the day, especially when I purposefully kept it in my heart and mind.

The day started out with me sleeping in until 10:30! When I woke up originally at 7, my back was hurting a lot, so I went back to bed, but I never expected to sleep so late! Then when I got up, I made coffee & went on Facebook, where I read Pastor Dan's status and spent some time in thought and prayer.

Then I read the quote that I blogged about yesterday. [‎"Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark.” - Elizabeth Gilbert]. That had myself in a space of introspection, wondering where my faith had gone and how I had become so lacking where once I had been strong.

Yesterday was garbage day and usually when R takes out the trash, he leaves the garbage can in the middle of the kitchen floor so that when I get up, I put new bags in and return it to its home. Only yesterday, I didn't have any trash bags. So, I was irritated with myself that I had forgotten to get them when I went shopping the previous day, now I was going have to take another trip to the store. That was so NOT what I wanted to do.

When R came home from work, I kept finding myself being irritated with him for the way he was processing the impending RV pick up. He was trying to be practical, which is a good thing, but because of the way I process events, it was annoying me. And my annoyed attitude caused R to become annoyed with me. It wasn't very pretty.

But being the good procrastinator that I am, I decided to call my sister, Janet first, since she had been on my list of calls I needed to make and while I was out on the porch reading the paper she had called. So, I called her and ended up spending about 90 min on the phone with her. This is the reason I hate talking on the phone! She wants one of our computers and she's going to take the two dressers & the table Daddy finished for me. She offered to store R's records at her house, too. We spent a lot of time talking about our dysfunctional family, which probably didn't do anything to lighten my mood :) Although my sister did remark that talking to me was better than therapy for her, which is OK, I guess.

When I got off the phone it was about 1:30, so I figured I should get to the store. There were just a couple of thing to get, and when I came home I wanted to put together a pasta & veggie salad for the next day's dinner. It always tastes better if the flavors have had a day to blend.

So off I went to the Giant Eagle. As I was turning onto Shadeland Avenue, I saw my friend Ronnie, sitting on her porch. Normally, I would just toot hello and keep going, but something told me to stop. So I did. Since we hadn't seen one another in a few weeks, I was sharing the story of R's dislocated shoulder when James, who is one of the elders at New Hope Church, stopped as he was walking by. He actually remembered my name, which surprised me. We had a very comforting conversation regarding the possibility of me coming back to NHC. We even touched on Rodger (the former pastor who when he and I met, told me "perhaps it is time for you to find another church"). James was very kind and talked about some of the way in which things have changed at NHC in the time since my departure. I shared my feeling as someone who has been part of the church and then an outsider, that it is sometimes very easy to perceive NHC as a clique, rather than as an outreach in the neighborhood. He asked me to return to New Hope because, as he said, "We are still your brothers and sisters in Christ." I shared with James that just that morning I had been wondering how I had strayed so far from where had been. When I explained that we had recently bought an RV and hope to be traveling as soon as September or October, he said, "Then at least come back to allow us to pray over you before you go." He and I gave and got a big hugs as I left for the store. I honestly felt as if the Holy Spirit had orchestrated the whole day: From reading Pastor Dan's status, to reading the quote that started me thinking about my faith, to my leaving for the store two hours later than I intended, to stopping to see Ronnie, to James walking by, remembering my name, talking and offering fellowship and kindness. It felt like one of the first steps toward healing what had been a festering wound.

I also told James about our house, the good and the bad. I told him we'd like to sell it "as is" and explained about my unfinished projects. I also told him we'd prefer to sell it to a family for 35K, than to sell it to Allegheny City Electric,whose owner wants tear it down and make a parking lot. We would rather make less money and have it be a blessing to some family who would like to have a home of their own. He said he would put the word out on the grapevine.

I went to the store (and STILL forgot to get cleanser for the sink!) I came home with a much improved attitude, although when I shared with R, he still seemed a little irritated. Then I told him that I wasn't sure why he and I were getting under each other's skin so much, but that I was sorry and would try to curb my irritability. He said that he was sorry too and we should begin again.

I made the salad for the next day. Then I made us dinner. All in all, a much improved mood prevailed : )

That is, until, I went to put the leftovers away and dropped the coconut cream pie that was going to be my dessert all week! As I was putting it in the fridge, I bumped it and PLOP! it flipped over and landed half on the floor and half on the bottom of the fridge!

Here's hoping THAT wasn't an intervention by the Holy Spirit!

Faith, Grace and Mercy

"Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark.” - Elizabeth Gilbert.

My first reaction to this quote was cynicism - "That's not faith, that's stupidity." After chastising myself for my immediate response, I thought about it a little. Two thoughts were immediately recognizable. One, that if faith is as described by Ms Gilbert, then Grace and Mercy are what keep us from stubbing our toes in the dark as we walk face first and full speed into the dark. And two, how far from faith I have become stranded.

A week ago Thursday, a dear friend and her two kids were coming over in the afternoon to harvest mulberries from our tree. We had some plastic sheeting ready to lay under the tree as we shook limbs to release the ripe berries. They arrived at 3 PM and by 3:05 we were all in the yard. Things were moving along well. Then I had the brilliant (she said sarcastically) idea to use our 20 foot ladder, to allow access to berries higher than we could reach from the ground. Let me say two things about me & ladders: 1) I do not like climbing them, 2) I apparently do not know how to position one properly. R came out to adjust my placement of the climbing device and then because he is kind and knows I do not like ladders, told me to move and let him climb. Which I did, gratefully. While he was ascending, with our friend holding the ladder, I decided to go into the house and get the platform ladder, which is only 8 feet high, more stable and which I felt sure I COULD climb without incident. I was happy we were all going to participate in gathering berries. Yea! As I began climbing the "normal" ladder, my friend came over and said to me, "R's hurt." I looked around and saw him on the deck, with his head down and looking rather pale. When I got over to him, he explained that he slipped on a branch as he was attempting to reach higher into the tree, lost his footing & grabbed a branch above his head to prevent falling. Unfortunately, the grab along with his body weight & angle, caused something to happen to "his right arm". I glanced at the clock. How could things go so wrong in only 10 minutes? From the look on his face and the pallor of his skin, I knew he was in tremendous pain. So, as gently as possible, I looked at his shoulder and arm under his t-shirt. Even if I had never worked on an orthopedic unit, I would've recognized a dislocated shoulder. We hurriedly explained to ou friend that an ER visit was necessary immediately and asked that she and the kids continue picking if they liked and just lock up on their way out. In the car, we opted to drive to UPMC St Margaret, which is 10 miles from our house, instead of the the closer ER at Allegheny General, simply because past experience has shown us that the average wait at AGH ER is about 5 hours, while UPMC SM is generally 1.5 hours. The judgmental errors of the day are compounding. The road to UPMC SM is being repaired. The bumps were many. And poor R was already in pain. What is usually a 15 minute ride was closer to 25. Upon arrival at the ER, R goes inside while I search for a parking space. Searching produces the LAST space in the ER lot! When I enter the ER, I am astounded! It looks like a convention. Nearly every seat is filled. WTH? Since R cannot use his right arm, or hand, I fill out his paperwork and we look for seats. In all my years of involvement with UPMC SM, I have never seen so many people in the ER. It is 3:50PM. Let me just say that one of the most annoying things about waiting in the ER, is having to see people who came in after you did get called ahead of you. I mean, I understand the folks who are bleeding. I even understand those who do not appear to have anything wrong, but who may be having some sort of challenge like a heart attack or shortness of breath. What I don't get is the people who walk through the door, talk to the receptionist, sit down, chat with their companion(s) and then get called ahead of my husband who is in so much pain that he describes it as 13 on a scale of 1-10. But enough about that! The other annoying thing is the TVs. Two of them. Tuned to the same station. Until that visit in the ER, I was proud to say I had never seen the Dr. Phil Show. Can't say THAT anymore! Poor R! after waiting for just a little over two hours, his pain was becoming unbearable. He was pale. And he was having swelling in his right arm and hand. I approached the receptionist. Knowing she couldn't really tell us how long we would have to wait, I asked her anyway. My reasoning was that if she knew how much pain R was in maybe we could get pushed up in the rotation. She was very sympathetic, and even though she said exactly what she was supposed to say, I still felt a little better. Maybe it was her attitude. She seemed to genuinely care. Her name was Rita. I reported back to R what Rita had said and left him for a minute while I went to the rest room. When I returned to his side, he was sporting an ice pack on his shoulder. He said that Rita had gotten it for him. Neither she nor he knew if it would help, but the kindness was greatly appreciated. About 15 minutes later, Rita asked if R had had an X-ray yet. She said had noticed that X-rays were being ordered, so we might as well head over to radiology while we were waiting to be called to an exam room. Again, her common sense approach was greatly appreciated! After a very brief time in radiology, we were back in the waiting area. Waiting. It was now about 6:45 PM. And we waited. About 7:10 we were taken back to an exam room. We didn't wait too long in there. The nurse came in and did the preliminaries. About 10 minutes later, the Orthopedic doctor arrived. He was very kind. He explained what they would attempt and what they might have to attempt if option one didn't work. He then left and returned with the longest needle I have ever seen. The plan was to inject R's shoulder joint with a relaxant and then attempt a closed reduction (popping back into place) after the spasms in his muscles and ligaments had subsided. Then the nurse returned, as we waited for the relaxant to take hold. She placed an IV, and gave R an injection of diluadid, for pain. Then we waited a little bit longer. At 7:45 PM the doctor, Adam Ray, did the closed reduction. It was an amazing thing to see. The pain etched on R's face was palpable. I had to walk to the other side of the room to avoid over reacting. But R reported a "small pop" followed by a "bigger pop" and Dr. Ray also reported "feeling the big pop". They ordered a portable X-ray to be sure the shoulder was in proper placement. By 8:15 PM R, with placement verified, was in an immobilizer sling, with two pain pills and the phone number of the f/u doctor in hand. Not at all how we had planned to spend our Thursday, but in the grand scheme of things, it could've been worse. Of course, that's easy for me to say!