A Turkey Of A Year

As Thanksgiving approaches, it might be a little hard to get our thankful on this year.  With a worldwide pandemic dogging us since the end of 2019, civil unrest, economic crisis, a hurricane season that appears to be never-ending, fires and other natural disasters scorching the earth, and all the accompanying tragedies, it might seem tempting to cut our losses and just forget about the holiday this year.  Giving thanks might take a little more grace than usual this Thanksgiving.

Undoubtedly, the holiday will be different for many people this year.  Many people will not be gathering with family face-to-face, as they usually do.  Many traditional venues for holiday celebrating may be closed or operating much differently.  Many families who have suffered financial hardships this year may be struggling to provide peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, much less turkey dinners with all the trimmings.  Many people have lost beloved family members and friends to the coronavirus.  Others have lost good health.  We have all lost a certain measure of stability and security about what our world looks like and how we should live in it. 

While it may seem more natural to question the dismal state of the world than to give thanks, it may be that living through a period of crisis actually increases our need to give thanks.  I do not suggest that the coronavirus or any of the deeply troubling events of the past year are good or necessary.  I do not believe that there is an intrinsic goodness in hardship.  I do not subscribe to a “Pollyanna” school of thought, believing that people who are suffering should just “try to see the bright side.” I believe that hardships, gut-wrenching grief, and brokenness are real.  It is disingenuous to suggest a person can just “positive” them away.  These difficulties occur for a variety of reasons in the natural world.  Sometimes, these painful events are the consequences of the actions of people.  Sometimes, they are normal experiences that are natural processes happening in the circle of life.  I do not think we will ever understand the reasons for all the hard times we must face.  I do believe, however, that God takes the hardships of our lives and brings some good from them.  Without these momentary flutters of divine grace in the midst of our pain, we might not be able to bear the most fractured moments of this life. 

I have seen some divine grace moments over the past months.  They are like fleeting twinkles of stars in a dark, gloomy sky.  This year has sometimes felt like we were each all alone in the dark.  Having even a momentary twinkle is enough to keep me hoping for morning. 

Here are some of my twinkles this Thanksgiving:

  • I am thankful for the creativity, innovation, and hard work many people exhibit to help us live more comfortably and communally in a world that closed up shop.
  • I am thankful that people have used the time of separation to touch base with others.  It may be that some of the people we have been nurturing during the quarantine may be people who are often lonely and sad, even before the virus threat.  It is counterintuitive, but it is possible that the coronavirus connected us more than it separated us.
  • I am thankful for the generosity of people to those who have suffered financially during this past year.
  • I am thankful that the need to stay home gave me the time to publish a new book.
  • I am thankful for the quiet and comfort of my home. 
  • I am thankful that I was able to clean out all my closets and drawers.
  • I am thankful that the treatment protocols for COVID-19 have improved and that vaccine progress is hopeful.
  • I am thankful for my brothers and sisters in faith who hold me close to their hearts and inspire me with their journeys.
  • I am thankful for the internet, Zoom, email, texting, Facebook, and other virtual communication methods.
  • I am thankful that I will have a Thanksgiving dinner, even if it is not exactly like previous years.
  • I am thankful that God gave me blessings to share with others.  I am so much more aware of how much fun it is and how happy it makes me to sow God’s grace. 
  • Most of all, I am thankful that I am a beloved child of God. I can rely on his all-consuming love to comfort me in the heartbreaks of this life and to lead me to eternal joy in His presence when I am finished with the work He has for me to do. 

It certainly may be that giving thanks will take a little more grace this year.  The good news is that God always has more grace to provide.  Anyone want a second helping?

I don’t know if you caught that I was thankful that I had the opportunity to publish a book this year. If television commercials are to be believed, it seems the entire month of November is “black Friday” this year. In that spirit, I respectfully suggest you go to Amazon.com and buy many copies of Random (A)Musings by Dorry Curran to give as holiday gifts!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Terri/Dorry 🙂

Waiving Good-bye To Weird

I think it is fair to say that 2020 has been a very strange time, not only in MY STORY, but also in HISTORY.  It seems that I have spent the past seven months constantly reinventing my idea of normal.  I spent some time just waiting for things to get better and, when that did not happen, I found myself continually jerry-rigging the routines of my life to make them work during the COVID-19 pandemic.  I have become the MacGyver of real life.  I embraced Zoom to keep people connected.  I ordered curbside dining and balanced Styrofoam boxes on my steering wheel in order to keep patronizing restaurants. I wear make-up and jewelry and do my hair even though I am only traveling from the bathroom to the living room.  I went to Disney parks masked and sanitized at every turn- staying so far away from other patrons, I needed a carrier pigeon to communicate with them.  I invest in a lot of postage stamps to periodically send little surprises to my absent loved ones. I re-defined getting a COVID-19 test as a date, for heaven’s sake. 

Some folks would say I have invested way too much time and energy trying to solve problems that don’t really exist; that the activities I am trying to recreate could easily wait until after the world starts rotating properly on its axis again. 

On the other hand, I know that I do a lot of these things not because I must do those specific activities, but because I am chasing some semblance of “feeling normal”.  I am a person who is extremely motivated by steadiness and routine.  I am pretty risk and change adverse.  Spending nine months in a world that feels different every day in every way absolutely wears away at my sense of security.  In retrospect, I feel like I have done remarkably well in coping with the situation.  I have been able to manage my anxiety and depression level effectively most of the time. 

I have certainly had my days when I have had to make a deliberate effort to push back an attack of negativity from my brain, but mostly I am good.  I credit that emotional survival with continuing to try to build some weird, mutated version of normal life.  In essence, it is not the doing of these activities like meetings on Zoom or calling a COVID-19 test a date that is important.  It is the process of creating normalcy that is important for me. It is also important for me that the essence of myself does not drown in the ocean of apathy that threatens to engulf my quarantine life.  When it gets too easy and too normal to not communicate, not socialize, not look my best, and not have fun, I know bad things are bound to happen to my psyche.

Still, despite my super-human efforts to create normalcy out of weirdness, I have not been completely successful.  Masks, social distancing, hug prohibitions-  all remind me that, no matter what I do, life is not normal.  I am getting really tired of it, so I thought about when I have felt most normal during these past months.  What can I do to maximize those times?

As I thought about it, I realized that the times I felt most normal were the times when I was at the beach.  A couple of friends and I took an overnight trip to Fernandina Beach this spring.  Max and I went to Daytona Beach a month or so ago.  Recently, a friend and I went to Clearwater Beach.  That is probably more beach activity than I have had in one year for as long as I can remember.  It has been remarkably helpful. 

At the beach, people can stay six feet away from each other easily.  In fact, even before COVID-19, I would not be closer than six feet away from any other beach visitor.  No one needs to wear a mask because we are outside and physically distant.  There is nothing less claustrophobic than looking out into the vastness of the ocean.  Hearing the sea birds and the waves, smelling the seaweed, tasting the salt in the air, feeling the cool water on my skin… all these things help me remember how big and beautiful the world is.  I remember looking out at the ocean as I walked through the waves on Daytona Beach and thinking it was like a treasure chest filled with emeralds and aquamarines and teal tourmalines… so many beautiful, sparkling blue and green gems twinkling at me. 

All three of my beach visits were this rejuvenating.  I bought a shirt in Fernandina Beach that says, “Salt Water Heals Everything.”  That may not be completely true, but, for me, salt water does seem to heal the COVID-19 blues.  At the beach, I can wave good-bye to weird. 

Is there a special place you go to “get back to basics” and feel at least a little normal? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a weird-free day!

Terri/Dorry 🙂

Silver Moments

Today marks 25 years since I met Max.  This week, we are celebrating a milestone- our silver anniversary.  As most people do, we have been through a wide variety of experiences and emotions and relationship wrinkles since we met 25 years ago.  While I would not have imagined the life I have now with him at the time I met him, I knew there was something special and fated between us from the first time we met.  The past 25 years have been precious.  He is one of the greatest gifts and blessings of my life.

Twenty-five years are made up of many, many moments that weave together to create a shared life. There are so many moments that shine like silver in my heart that I cannot possibly relate all of them.  In honor of our 25th anniversary, however, I would like to share 25 “especially special” moments.  They are our silver moments.

  1. The night I met Max, I was doing homework assigned by my dating coach.  Yes, I was so determined to find a healthy relationship, I actually paid for private dating lessons.  My coach suggested that I attend what I lovingly call the “pudgy people’s dance.”  A local organization dedicated to chubby chicks and chub-chasing men offered regular dance parties to allow those of us with a few (okay, maybe more than a few) extra pounds to mix and mingle.  Now, I was not at the weight class that would interest reality television, but I certainly was (and still am) more to love.  For the first time in my life, I was extremely popular that night. When Max first asked me to dance, there was an immediate, organic attraction on every level.  I never experienced anything like it.  In retrospect, it was like some part of me knew that there was something wonderful and lasting between us.  I remember how he looked.  I remember what I wore.  I remember how his arms and chest felt when he danced with me. I remember how he made me feel.
  • When Max first came to my home, my dog, Luci, was extremely excited.  Truthfully, she was not the most discerning of creatures.  She pretty much loved everyone.  However, the way Max reacted to her showed me how special he is.  Every time he visited, he brought her treats.  When we sat snuggled together on the couch, Luci would often jump up and squeeze herself in between us.  Max was never annoyed.  He laughed. I think he found it charming.
  • About a month after we met, I asked Max to come over for Christmas Eve dinner.  He brought a boy teddy bear and a girl teddy bear.  He told me their names were MaxBear and TerriBear.  In the years that followed, Max bought me many beautiful gifts.  Many were much more expensive than MaxBear and TerriBear, but none are more valuable.  They moved with us to Florida and still snuggle up together every day.
  • Max took me to meet his family a week or so after our first Christmas together.  This was significant because his father was struggling through his last days of life.  He would lose his battle with cancer just a few days later. Max thanked me for supporting him during this time.  I thanked him for doing me the honor of including me in his family circle.  He told me that he remembered me saying at one point that it bothered me that my last boyfriend never introduced me to his family, even after several years of dating.  He did not want to hurt me in that way.
  • Max and I went dancing often in the first few years of our relationship.  He flew me around the dance floor with skill and passion.  Dancing was important to him and he created a partnership with me. People even applauded when we danced together.
  • Max and I would often snuggle together with the lights off, watching old movies on the second floor of his house.  It was always cool, if not cold, in his house. It felt intimate and cozy to share the space- filling it with our warm hearts.
  • It took Max a long time to decide to cohabitate.  He was sure that he would do something to undermine the relationship if we were together all the time.  Even once we did agree to move in together, he tested the waters to make sure that it was going to be okay.  About two weeks before he was supposed to move in, he got angry over something to do with the tv remote control and threw it across the room.  It seemed so transparently a contrived act to see how I would react, I almost laughed.  Since then, I believe he has only thrown one other thing across the room- his work cell phone. I was also ready to pitch the darn thing.
  • Max introduced me to luxury.  Neither of us has a lot of money.  Both of us have lived through hard financial times.  Neither of us are spendthrifts.  Max introduced me, however, to the idea of up-spending for the sake of getting something more lush or upscale than necessary.  He buys me nice handbags. He buys me blankets made of luxury fabrics.  We stay in large, comfortable, upscale lodgings when we travel. He bought me some Chanel #5.  All of these are occasional treats. They do not interfere with our financial stability or charitable giving.  I do not think I ever would have gone beyond Walmart handbags, cotton throws, value resort rooms, or Bath and Body Works scent except for him. 
  • From the day Max moved in, we were living in a different vibe.  It was instant family.
  1. Max indulged me by going to Disney World with me for the first time in 2003.  He was a real trouper all throughout our six-day forced march through the humidity across the World.  He made several more trips with me.  He understood the importance of being close to Disney when deciding where to move in retirement.  When asked what his favorite thing about Disney is, he says that he enjoys it, but that his very favorite thing is how happy it makes me. 
  1. The night my father had his sudden fatal heart attack, Max stayed on the phone with me throughout my 70-mile drive to go see him before he died.
  1.  Max wrote me a love poem once.
  1.  Max picks beautiful, sentimental greeting cards for all occasions and he remembers all our milestone dates.
  1.  When my Luci went to doggie heaven, Max took care of the process after she slipped away and, when it was all over, spooned next to me on the bed and held me while I cried out my grief.
  1.  Max paid storage fees for years while we were living together in California because he did not want me to feel like I had to get rid of anything I wanted to keep just to make room for him.  Several times, I suggested we would not need the storage or the amount of storage if I just tossed the things I had not touched for months or years.  Every time, Max demurred, insisted he wanted me to be comfortable.
  1.  Max was first in line to buy the debut copy of each book I published.
  1. For years, Max lugged boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations from and to the storage building, up and down two flights of stairs, just because he knew I loved Christmas.
  1. Max constantly tells me I am perfect.  I know I am not perfect, but he makes me believe I am perfect for him.
  1. During our first trip to Hawaii together, Max strove to provide a romantic experience for me.  The first time I ever went to Hawaii, I went by myself.  I remember thinking it was the most beautiful place in the world, the most romantic place in the world, and the loneliest place in the world if one was without a mate.  Our real version of the romantic Hawaii experience was not the same as my fantasy, but it was still very romantic.  We laughed and relaxed and shed our adult personas.  My favorite bracelet is still the Hawaiian heirloom gold bracelet he bought me on that trip to commemorate our romance.
  • While I was journeying with my mother during the last, broken year of her life, Max made a concerted effort every day, all the time, to say and do the right things to help and support me. He did not find the right thing every time.  In fact, there were times when there was no right thing.  Most of the time, he did find the right note.  It was the fact that he was trying so hard and so consistently that made the moments silver for me.
  •  We converse in movie quotes (“You people don’t deserve a good king like me”), inside jokes (how old are you? I’m free), pet names (Little Bear), and little rituals (playing elf on the shelf, bouncing on beds) as part of our everyday life together.    These are things that make sense to only the two of us and they are things that enrich our couplehood. 
  •  On one of the rare occasions when Max and I disagreed over a big issue, I was uncomfortable and sad that we were on different pages.  When I expressed to him that I felt so awkward and awful about the state of affairs that it was hard for me to even talk about it, he reassured me, saying that disagreement did not discount love and the fact that we disagreed did not mean that he did not love me.
  •  Max regularly cuddles me, rubs my back, and scratches my neck until I purr like a kitten. 
  •  Max often looks at me with a warmth and awe that seems to say, “I cannot believe I am lucky enough to see you every day.”
  •  Max and I read devotionals and pray together daily.  We worship together in online services and he has started attending my church with me once a month.

There are many, many more moments like these.  Even these “moments” really represent more than moments; they constitute whole galaxies of instances that weave together to support our love.  These are just some of our silver moments.  In fact, they are not just silver moments.  They are silver moments trimmed with gold, wrapped up with a platinum ribbon.

Happy Anniversary, my love…

From the luckiest bear in the world!

How Much Patience Must A Patient Have?

This is not a tongue-twister.  It is a temporal lobe twister. 

Recently, I entered an endocrinological perfect storm. The experience left me wondering whether it is time for me to raise my medical expectations. 

When I moved to Florida from California, I had to find a new endocrinologist to manage my diabetes and thyroid issues.  I looked for a doctor close to my new home but found only one.  The online reviews for this doctor were not stellar, to say the least.  In fact, he sounded downright mean… or, at least, curt.  For reasons I am not going to bother to explain here, I have a hard time going to see doctors in the best of circumstances. I was certainly not anxious to see the endocrinologist whose reviews made him sound like the medical version of Simon Legree.  I widened my search and ended up selecting a doctor in Orlando, which is about 40 miles from where I live.  I know that is a bit far to travel but the doctor’s name was Dr. Steady (not his real name, but a synonym of it).  For anyone who has diabetes, the quest to keep blood sugar levels stable is the holy grail.  How could I not select someone called Dr. Steady?  

Dr. Steady also had excellent reviews.  My visits to the office for the past five years have been efficient, relatively painless experiences. Dr. Steady always concluded a visit by telling me I was too healthy to be there.  I only go a few times a year, so the commute was not that big a deal. In fact, it was kind of pleasant taking a trip to the “big city” every few months.  I felt very sophisticated and precious.  

Fast forward to a few weeks ago.  I realized I was running out of my blood sugar stabilization medication.  Now, in my world, I would always have at least 30 days’ worth of drugs on hand so as not to worry about running short.  However, insurance companies tend not to think that way.  They only let me get a new supply when I am down to 10 days or less of the old prescription.  I think they figure I could die in the interim and they would have wasted the money paying for medication that I would never take.  Still, 10 days really should be long enough to get a prescription refilled. 

I called the pharmacy to order the refill and they indicated they would need to contact the doctor to get an authorization for the prescription renewal.  I had an appointment scheduled, but not until a few weeks after I would run out of pills.  I waited two days, then called the pharmacy.  They told me that they had not heard from the doctor’s office.  I called the doctor’s office, who told me that they had submitted the authorization.  They said they would send it again.  The next morning, I called the pharmacy again and they said that they had not heard from the doctor’s office but would resubmit the request.  The next day, I called the pharmacy again.  Again, they told me they had not heard from the doctor’s office.  I called the doctor’s office.  At that point, I was completely out of medication.  The doctor’s office swore to me that they were submitting the authorization while I was on the phone.  

Apparently, the problem stemmed from the fact that the doctor’s electronic prescription service only works within Orlando.  Since I was needing the prescription authorized in my town, which is apparently in an international zip code as far as the doctor’s office is concerned, the electronic system did not work.  Never mind that the doctor’s office has been handling my prescriptions for over five years.  For some reason, despite my numerous, increasingly more desperate pleas for drugs, someone just kept pushing the computer button.  What is the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?  I do not like to cast aspersions, but I think an insane person must have been trying to authorize my prescription.  

Six days into this process of medical musical chairs, I completely ran out of medication.  I was going cold turkey.  Although my blood sugar levels were certainly higher than they normally are, I was able to keep them reasonable by exercise and consuming only about 1100 calories a day.  This was not a mood-enhancing system, I assure you.  I also felt like crap all the time.  I felt exhausted, headache-y, and weak.  I had this strange sensation that there were two incredible forces pushing from both within and outside my body, in conflict with one another.  I felt like I was going to spontaneously crumble, as if hit by The Invisible Ray (for those of you who have not seen this old Karloff/Lugosi movie, you might want to check it out.) I am surprised I remained conscious.  The only hopeful sign was that I was able to keep my blood sugar level beneath a dangerous range.  As the days crept by, one broken promise after another, I did almost surrender.  It really seemed a lot easier to die than to continue the fight for Janumet. 

At one point a couple of years ago, Dr. Steady suggested the possibility that I might be able to go off the medication because I was doing so well.  I was excited because Janumet is expensive.  When he made no mention of going off the medication at my next visit, I asked him about it. He explained that he had thought better of the idea because I was doing so well on it.  He said that, if I went off the medication and my blood sugar got out of whack, it would be much harder to get it back in whack.  At the time, I was disappointed.  Now, I see the wisdom of that decision.  I think we have all learned now that going off the medication is not a good option for me. 

Finally, on Monday (ten days after I originally called in the prescription) afternoon, I confirmed with the pharmacy that they received the authorization.  They told me they would fill it the next day.  On Tuesday, I called and found out that the pharmacy had none of the drug I needed, so they had to order it.  I could expect the prescription to be ready around eleven on Wednesday. 

On Wednesday morning, my blood sugar elevated into the danger zone.  I was able to work it down with exercise and famine, but it was concerning.  I did not hear from the pharmacy on Wednesday, so I went in to see them at around 3.  At that point, my next stop was going to be the emergency room.  I was back in the “safe” zone on the blood sugar, but I still felt horrible and I was no longer able to keep hope alive.

You guessed it. The drug did not arrive in the pharmacy’s order.  The pharmacy tech, to her credit, knew desperation when she saw it.  She got on the phone and found me a 30-day supply at another pharmacy about 15 miles down the road.  I got back in the car and headed to the other pharmacy, fully expecting there to be yet another problem.  Happily, they did sell me my drugs and I downed one immediately.  I am still re-whacking my blood sugar levels several days later, but all evidence seems to point to recovery with no lasting consequences.

No lasting consequences to me, that is.  For the endocrinologist, not so much.  You remember that local endocrinologist that sounded mean in his reviews?  It turns out that a friend of mine has been seeing him for several months and really likes him.  I decided to fire the Orlando doctor and risk possible curtness.

I called his office to make an appointment yesterday.  The office is closed all week.  Heavy sigh.  I am in the medical twilight zone. 

Just to quell any alarm this blog may generate, please know that I wrote in a few weeks ago.  I am now safely back on my drugs and managing my blood sugar well. 

As we age, health concerns seem to loom much larger than they did in our younger years.  What tips and tricks do you employ to keep as healthy as possible in your “more than ready for prime time” years?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com

Have a healthy day!

Terri/Dorry