Category Archives: Texas Life

The Dove

28 Wednesday Feb 2007

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The day I came home from rehab, I was sitting in the dining room, responding to emails. I heard a loud clunk. A beautiful, gray dove had flown into the living room window and was lying on the deck. I scrambled to get my walker, but realized that even if I did manage to go from my wheelchair to the walker then step onto the deck, there was no way I could reach down and pick up the dove, let alone hobble on one leg back into the house − with the dove in one hand and the walker in the other. So I sat in the living room, tears streaming down my face, until Rich got home from his errands.
 
He gently picked up the barely alive dove and placed it in the crock of a tree towards the bottom of our property. I’d forgotten about the bird until the next afternoon when I watched, through binoculars, a large hawk or falcon nibble on it.
 
Since the incident, I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time contemplating its meaning. I have an abnormal fixation searching for the meaning in the most mundane. For several days, I decided that life is a zero-sum game; whereas something must die before something else can be born. I was convinced that was the answer until I read several articles about escalating birth rates in parts of Asia and Africa, which aren’t offset by the atrocities and deaths occurring throughout the world.
 
I also reasoned that the dove sacrificed itself. Although, logic told me that it probably heard our cockatiels and ring-neck parakeets squawking and wanted to join them. Perhaps the window reflected the trees in our backyard and it couldn’t discern that it was a reflection.
For several days, I watched the hawks and falcon souring in our backyard to see if they could provide some meaning.
 
Yesterday, I had the answer. The dove signified rebirth.
 
I came to this conclusion after watching a squirrel scamper up one of our trees. When we first moved to Austin, we had dozens of squirrels in the tree canopies that stretched across ours and our neighbors’ properties. Within a few months, all of the squirrels disappeared. I always believed that the next door neighbor, who had piles of junk, had a rat problem and put out poison, which killed the squirrels. Rich thought our cats scared them away. But our cats are too domesticated and well feed to climb trees after squirrels.
 
Two years ago, we got a new neighbor, who removed the junk, trimmed the trees and keeps his property spic-and-span. As a result, I’ve spied a few squirrels scurrying across his trees. These squirrels seem to be now voyaging over to our trees.
 
Lately, I’ve also noticed an increase in the number of bright red cardinals. Our neighbor, on the other side, says that a family of skunks regularly visits him in the wee hours and must live under his workshop. Rich has spotted a baby opossum that set up camp under our shed.
 
Heavy rains in late January, filled up our creek and the small pond behind the dam. No doubt, it’s now teeming with life − small fish, turtles, plants, and probably a water moccasin or two.
 
The day I returned home from my accident, the death of the dove signified my rebirth. It was a startling and heartbreaking affirmation that I’d been given a chance to change my lifestyle and attitude and to evaluate what was important to me. It’s an opportunity to start over. To eat healthy, watch my weight, treat others with more respect, show my appreciation for what I have and what others do for me, and to relish each day rather than wish it away.

People to Thank

18 Sunday Feb 2007

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My ability to heal hinged on the faith and kindness of many, many people. Lula, Lynn and Cheryl, "the vision in fuchsia" were my primary nurses at HealthSouth. Lula is a strong woman who in spite of my tears pushed me to succeed in my therapy by ensuring that I got my pills and icky shot (in the stomach). Her no-nonsense attitude gave me strength and comforted me when I hit rock bottom after painful therapy sessions.
 
Lynn’s sweet South Carolina voice and kind pats on the back were very soothing. She’d checked on me often and when I was tired, encouraged me to persevere.
 
Cheryl would glide into the ward at 7 p.m. A tall, very distinguished black woman, she almost always wore fuchsia or dark pink, hence, she became "the vision in fuchsia." She smile little, but you could tell that she had a heart of gold. I always breathed a sign of relief when "the vision of fuchsia" came into my room late at night or early in the morning.
 
Rene is a nursing assistant that works at night. He visited me several times the night that I arrived and was so gentle when my psyche was so fragile. One night, I slept horribly and was in terrible pain. Even though another nursing assistant had been assigned to me, Rene was the one who responded to my beeper. My heart glowed when I opened my eyes and saw him walk into the room. My pain immediately eased.
 
Susana was the nursing assistant during the day. I adored Susana. Throughout the day, as I wheeled through the floors to relive my pain, I’d see Susana. She always put a smile on my face and made me feel warm inside.
 
Brianna, also a nursing assistant, is a beautiful woman inside-and-out. She was always very happy and accommodating.
 
All of the nurses and nursing assistants worked very long hours… often five days a week, twelve hours a day. While these long hours must have been horrendous on their personal lives, it was nice (selfishly) to be able to see the same nurse and assistant everyday, twelve hours a day!
 
Nathan was my patient physical therapist. He dealt with me on my level, which wasn’t easy. I refused to do what he told me unless he provided an explanation and elaborated on which muscles were working. I wanted to understand what muscles I needed to concentrate on to lift or bend my leg. With his assistance, I could make a full circle around half the wing using a walker. I didn’t want to disappoint him so I pushed through the pain and discomfort.
 
Michael was another physical therapist. The first time I met him, I was lying on a large mat crying and unable to articulate my pain. I had to wait 20 minutes or so for my pain medicine to kick in. While waiting, he talked to me, explaining that he’d sustained various injuries playing football, basketball, etc. He never pushed me to do anything. Nothing. But he made me determined to tackle each new exercise – at my own pace. Soon, I was doing many of the exercises on my own and showing him that my tears lead to success.
 
While I didn’t interact with Freddy very much, his perpetual upbeat personality and smiles was a joy while in the gym. He tends to work with people with paralysis or an inability to control their lower extremities. One day, before my mat class, he lay beside me and answered my endless questions about injuries and various treatments. The world needs more Freddy’s.
 
Kim was my occupational therapist. I intensely disliked what she made me do because it seemed so simple, yet so exhausting. She’d have me pedal a machine with my hands for up to 15 minutes. Pure agony after 5 minutes. I wish her luck in joining her husband in New Mexico and enjoying life on their ranch with their Thoroughbred and Painted horses.
 
Equally important in my recovery were the other patients. Remember, I’m an extreme introvert and would have been happy to hang out in my room, reading and lamenting my misfortune. However, I quickly realized that talking to other people distracted me from the pain and speed up the time between therapy and the haven of my bed.
 
Fay is a very gregarious woman who lived by herself in Smithville. She’s a wonderful conversationalist, optimist and one of my biggest cheerleaders. I deeply appreciated her friendship and wish her a rapid recovery from knee surgery.
 
From Tennessee, Ann bubbled with Southern cheer. The last few days of my rehabilitation – before she went home – she talked to me for hours about her real estate business, life in Texas and Tennessee, and many other topics that made the time pass. A strong woman, I have no doubt that she’ll lights up the life of everyone she meets.
 
Tiny with beautiful, gray hair Evelyn spoke little, but when she did, everyone listened. I loved her smile and cherub face. I hope she’s back on her feet quickly after hip surgery.
 
Walter has been a carpenter of houses and buildings all of his life. As a result of his hard work, he wore out his shoulders, hips and now knee. While his body and face was completed wrinkled and worn, his eyes were like those of a child – two clear, light blue sapphires. Everyone liked Walter. He was witty, determined and very much alive.
 
Sue left the day before me. A trim and regal woman who read the newspaper throughout the day, Sue, endured her pain quietly. My heart lit up to see her trailing behind her son in her wheelchair as he pushed a cart full of her stuff out of HealthSouth, the first step in going home.
 
Most of the people I met were recovering from hip or knee surgery where the expectation was to start walking as soon as possible. Mary, like me, however wasn’t supposed to put any weight on her leg for six to eight weeks. She had her ankle rebuilt with pins and plates. Ouch. She’d moved several years ago from Southern California to Austin to spend time with her grandson. Hopefully, she’ll be up on her feet in a couple of month and walking along side her grandson.
 
A few days after I arrived, Viola became my roommate. I can’t say enough wonderful things about this stately, wise and gutsy woman who kept my mind off the pain and also provided advice about life and my condition. A week before, a car had backed into her then drove off after checking to make sure she was okay.
 
She wasn’t okay and had to have hip surgery. After a day of getting to SouthHealth, she was walking with a walker and could effortlessly stand on two feet while she sifted through the clothing her husband brought her, brush her teeth, etc. She claimed that she wasn’t in pain. I think she was extraordinarily strong and didn’t let pain bother her!
 
Viola’s husband is a retired radiologist who enjoys taking digital photographs. He brought me a CD full of wildflowers picture he’d taken around Austin and his property in Bastrop. I cherish the CD for his thoughtfulness and as a great memory of Texas’ wonderful wildflowers.
 
During my last night at HealthSouth, I had a nightmare in which I was yelling out loud. Viola knew that I was taking OxyContin (synthetic codeine) so had very vivid dreams. In my dream, I could hear the frightened voice of the nursing assistant ask if I was okay. Viola reassured her that I was okay. Half of my "head" was laughing, hearing Viola calming the nurse. The other half was recovering from the silly nightmare. I wish Viola and her family a healthy life full of warm memories.
 
Finally, my doctor at HealthSouth, Nancy Gonzales, played a huge role in my recovery. She visited daily and spent more time giving me pats on the back and hugs then actually listening to my whining. She’s a wise doctor who knows that kindness and the human touch is the best medicine.
 
The day after my accident, Drake S. Borer, skeletal trauma (orthopedic) surgeon, paid Rich and I a visit to chat about my two recovery options: Drill a massive pin into my entire pelvis and hopefully miss important nerves and my spine cord or go through rehabilitation and allow my bones to naturally knit back together. Such a joker. He gave me two days to prove that I could tolerate the pain.
 
If one were to choose a surgeon, it definitely would be Dr. Borer (what a great name for someone who relishes boring pins into people’s bones). He’s drop-dead handsome with a great bedside manner and enough confidence for half a dozen surgeons. But, "no thanks" to a pin that might cause scar tissue or have to be removed one day.
 
More importantly, I’m not having someone operate on me with a Mexican Day of the Dead image on his business card – a skeleton in cowboy boots and hat reclining on a longhorn. I will have to see Dr. Borer in a few weeks for an x-ray and evaluation. I hope nothing has slipped!

Up close with a Longhorn… kinda’

03 Saturday Feb 2007

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Last weekend, as we were driving down a country road, we passed a large herd of cattle, most with sizable horns. They were gathered around a large bale of hay that had just been added to their feeding trough. I begged Rich to turn around. He barely parked before I leapt.
 
Seeing me, the owner approached the fence where I could pepper him with questions. After a while, I asked if I could get closer. It’s so obvious that I’m a clueless city slicker. No BBQ-eating, boot-kicking, hell-raising Texan would "pet" a cow as if it was cute puppy.
 
Happily, the owner and his young son obliged my curiosity.
 
He had one male Brahman bull. The others were thoroughbred or mixed Brahman, Ankole-Watusi, Gir or Limousin cows (females). Brahman are beautiful animals with long, floppy ears, gentle faces, small horns like giant ice cream cones that stick out from the side of their heads, an abundance of loose skin, and a large hump over the top of their shoulder and neck. His bull was a deep gray and while he occasionally peaked at us, he was more interested in chomping on hay.
 
There were also two pale gray Brahman cows; both were only a few years old and very shy. They reminded me of Japanese school girls, dressed alike, inquisitive, but too bashful to get very close.
 
Similar to a Brahman is a Gir. They have firmer skin than a Brahman and larger horns that sweep back and spiral up. They’re also mottled. Like the Brahman, they have floppy, pendulous ears.
 
The cows that had caught my attention and had the most extraordinary and large horns were the Ankole-Watusi. One article on the Internet referred to them as the "cattle of kings." The cows that we saw weren’t very large. Their horns; however, were amazing. One young, cow was white with deep red splotches. While the circumference of the horns on Texan longhorns is about the same across the entire horn, the base of Watusi horns, which is starts at the head, is very large. The horns can point upwards. The horns of the little white and red cow extended straight out from her head, 18 or more inches. Then horns were bigger than her head. The owner mentioned that the horns are like radiators. Blood circulates through the horn where it’s cooled.
 
The other cows were thoroughbred or mixed Limousin, which come from France and appeared on cave drawings. They’re sturdy animals and the only cows that we got to pet. The rest were either interested in eating or wary of us.
 
We spent half hour learning about the cows and the challenge and expense of ranching. The owner works in high-technology so he has the luxury of raising the animals for "fun" and seeing what his Brahman bull produces (so to speak). Two weeks before, during the ice storm, one of his cows gave birth to a solid deep red calf. Between the legs of the many cows, we caught glimpses of the calf.
 
I can now leave Texas having pet a "long-horned" cow!