Never too Late!

Reflections on Christmas

2011-12-28T10:49:00.007-06:00

Holidays can be difficult for those of us alone, with no nearby family and not a large number of friends. For the past few years, I have traveled to Texas or Oklahoma to spend Christmas with my niece and her family, and it's been wonderful. This year, due to very understandable circumstances, my niece was not able to play hostess, and my limited mobility made me decide to stay at home, here at The Clare.

Lest anyone feel sorry for me, The Clare is a fine place for the holidays: many Christmas trees, concerts and activities, special meals. My niece sent a box of gifts to open on Christmas morning, and they were very much appreciated. I exchanged Christmas cards with some old friends (not as many as in the past, but enough). I had a phone call from one nearby friend, and another came over for lunch before leaving town for her own holiday celebration.

Television provided many cheerful Christmas stories which I enjoyed. While I didnt get out much, I continued to volunteer at the Chicago Cultural Center on Thursday mornings, and was able to enjoy the decoraations and exhibits there.

I even decided to go on the Atkins diet and lose at least ten pounds by the end of January--more on that later.

We have a special New Years Eve dinner and gathering Saturday night, but I may skip those and just enjoy the coming of the new year on TV. My wants are simple, and I don't need a fattening dinner (as nearly all food here is). I'd like to see some snow: it's unusual not to have any here in Chicago yet, but I may regret this wish.

My conclusion? Things are always changing, and I've discovered that I can manage on my own very well. In sone ways it's been a lonely season, but in general, I'm doing fine. Let's hope that continues as I turn 80 next year.

To anyone who reads this: I hope your holidays brought you what you needed and wanted, especially a feeling of peace.

Freedom of Speech

2011-11-16T11:25:00.004-06:00

I attended a presentation by a semi-retired federal judge who lives in our building on the subject of the First Amendment, or freedom of speech. Of course I believe in this freedom, and yet it occurred to me that I have often had doubts about it. What about the "Occupy Wall Street" protesters and their offshoots in Chicago and elsehere? Where do their rights stop and the rights of ordinary pedestrians and workers begin?

I am too old to have belonged to the protest movements of the 1960's and 1970's. In fact, I remember being "saved" on the street during a Chicago "Days of Rage" protest back then by an Abraham Lincoln look-alike when I was merely walking home. Those times were scary to me, and I've never had any desire to protest anything. Does this make me too complacent? Perhaps. Of course I see, and have seen, inequities in society, but other than writing letters, I've never felt empowered to change things much.

Another factor: I remember my late husband, who worked in one of Chicago's federal buildings, remarking that there were some protesters around his workplace. When I asked him what they were protesting, he said he didn't know. Somehow, that made me feel that protest was just an empty gesture. Is protesting just to make the protestor feel good, or does it have a more positive effect? I don't know. Aside from the civil rights marches, with their clear and just cause, I don't recall many, if any, positive results from protesting.

I admit to being old and steeped in law-and-order society (although I don't relate to any political party). While I feel a bit guilty for saying so, I guess I've always felt that protest marches and sit-ins were a waste of time. I'll always believe in individual rights and free speech, but I just don't know how they can best be implemented. Fortunately I'm not a judge, and won't have to make such decisions. With many of my peers, I can just sit back and watch, for better or worse.

Ramsey Lewis Played for My Birthday!

2011-10-12T17:21:00.005-05:00

No, not really, but I did have the opportunity to hear one piano selection by Mr. Lewis today, my 79th birthday.

The real occasion was The Clare's "Joie de Vivre" award presentation, with Ramsey Lewis as this year's winner. The award "recognizes an outstanding senior who has experienced the Joy of Living through his artistic and educational contributions to the next generation and sharing of his talents with the people of the world."

The main entertainment was a jazz combo from the Merit School of Music, with which Lewis has been deeply involved. The pianist, bassist, drummer, and trombonist were wonderful, as, of course, was Lewis' piano solo. After a glass of white wine, I finally began to feel that birthdays aren't so bad after all.

Birthdays without family are generally days I prefer to ignore, but this year's reminded me of the big "80" coming a year from now. Now that sounds old! Getting four birthday cards and many friendly greetings helped. As luck would have it, I met a woman, the mother of a Clare resident, celebrating her 93rd birthday today as well, and she looked quite good. And a fellow resident ten years older than I celebrates tomorrow. This age thing is something to contend with, and I don't always handle it very well. Still, I'll remember this year because of Ramsey Lewis!

Rictameters Again

2011-08-17T09:42:00.002-05:00

TV

TV:
Guilty pleasure,
Waste of time, yet often,
When the day seems dull, I watch too
Many news shows, same old stories, Cubs games,
But still I lack the strength to break
Away and turn it off
For other things.
TV.

Breakfast

Breakfast:
Favorite meal
To start the day, to wake
Energy, imagination,
Prelude to a day of actiity
Or maybe just relaxation,
Anyway the only
way to begin,
breakfast.

More Rictameters

2011-08-16T11:04:00.006-05:00

It's been three years since my little, mostly-unread book of poetry was published (Elder Expectations: My Life in Rictameters is still available on Amazon.com), but from time to time I still write poems in my favorite format, the rictameter: nine unrhymed lines with two, four, six, eight, ten, eight, six, four, two lines, the first and last lines the same. At least one of my fellow Clare residents has become hooked on this form. It's amazing how much can be said in how few words.

For some reason, I've begun to think of new rictameters. They truly are addictive, so I've decided to include some here from time to time. Here are two for today:

I'm Old

I'm old.
Funny things have
Happened: gray hair, wrinkles,
Halting gait, early fatigue, to
Prove the inevitable: my time is
Running out, my future not so
Endless, bright, promising
As once I thought.
I'm old.

Bright Days

Bright days
Of golden sun
Viewed from highrise heaven,
Everything takes on a golden
Glow that makes the world seem better than on
Grayer days, when troubles, problems
Take the foreground, make me
Long for sunshine,
Bright days.

Eat Alone? Only in my Own Apartment

2011-08-10T09:24:00.007-05:00

One of my old friends (old in time, not actual age; she's younger than I am) asked me if I went to eat at restaurants alone. The answer is no, unless I'm traveling alone by car or stranded somewhere. When I was younger, I occasionally went to a restaurant by myself, but later I began to feel too self-conscious to do so. I enjoyed the convenience of having a husband to escort me on eating-out occasions, but that ended more than ten years ago.

For one thing, I have an uncomfortable relationship with food, all of which seems to add unneeded pounds. The less I eat, the better, so a "diet" frozen dinner in my apartment is not only convenient, but satisfying. Although I live in an area full of Chicago's best restaurants, the trouble of dressing up to go to one alone doesn't appeal to me. I look forward to the very few occasions when a friend invites me to a restaurant meal, but I usually just live vicariously through the restaurant revues a fellow Clare resident provides monthly for the resident newsletter I edit. I can't afford some of those places anyway.

Living at The Clare means that three gourmet meals are available each day if I care to partake of them, but I tried breakfast and dinner and gained five pounds in a very short time--even skipping desserts and other obvious temptations. A large part of my non-refundable food allowance goes unused. The food is just too good here, and designed, I think, to keep my thinner fellow residents healthy. I eat only the Healthy Choice breakfast (an egg white omelet with vegetables, orange juice, once slice of whole wheat toast, a small bowl of fresh berries, and coffee) four days a week. The other days, I have cold whole grain cereal with skim milk. Then, on Sunday, I have brunch with three fellow residents. Sometimes it's a regular omelet or scrambled eggs with bacon; sometimes it's luncheon fare like fish with vegetables and salad (and sometimes dessert, I must admit). My lunches are usually cereal or a salad or some cheese or fruit. I do have the special holiday dinners on occasion. Those are quite spectacular.

I yearn to be one of those skinny women who seem to be able to eat anything, and perhaps if I were, I'd venture out to restaurants more often. As it is, though, my fear of food, my lack of outside eating companions, and my shyness keep me at home. It's not a bad way to live, really, for a "hermit" like me. I'm seldom hungry.

A Return to Exercise!

2011-08-09T09:37:00.006-05:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I've never been the athletic type. Exercise has always been a "bad word," despite my overweight and generally sedentary body. I quit the three-times-weekly exercise classes at The Clare because there were so many things I couldn't do, such as raise my arms or stand for long periods. It was too depressing. The director was very kind and non-threatening, but it just became too much. Besides, it came too soon after breakfast for me to be at my best, whatever that is.

Anyway, I had a new burst of energy, inspired by my exercise-nut brother, and decided on a new exercise program. For more than a week now, I have been going to our fitness room at 7:00 a.m. three or four days a week to use my two favorite machines (actually, the only two approved by my doctor) for fifteen minutes each. One machine is the Nu-Step (pictured above); the other is a recumbent stationary bicycle.

Excercising early in the morning suits me. I've tried afternoons, but I'm either too tired, or involved in something more interesting (even if it is a dull TV program). So far, I've had no trouble being up and ready to go by 7:00. Since I'm always up by at least 5 a.m., this schedule makes sense to me. Besides, I can be sure that the fitness center isn't crowded with both of "my" machines in use. By 7:30, I'm ready for my Healthy Choice breakfast in the Grafton dining room. Since I'm a creature of routine, I think I can keep up this schedule unless sickness or injury intervenes.

I'm sure that this amount of exercise won't end in weight loss, but it seems to be making me feel slightly more energetic. Every little bit helps, I guess. Wish me luck!

Memories and Change

2011-07-05T14:02:00.006-05:00

This is adapted from The Clarion, resident newsletter of The Clare at Water Tower, the place where I live. It expresses my sadness that a neighborhood restaurant is scheduled to close.

My first exposure to Bistro 110 came a few years back when a former neighbor of mine, now a suburbanite and still a teacher, invited me to celebrate my birthday. I gladly accepted, partly because I could look out the window and see the structure of The Clare gradually taking shape. That was exciting at the time; you know how long many of us had to wait.

I remember an excellent, expensive (or so it seemed to me) meal, but the only "dish" that I really remember was the Gateau “Paradis au Chocolat,” described as "A giant piece of our famous cake layered with toffee and served with caramel sauce." It's embarrassing for one with a weight problem to mention it, but this was the chocolate cake of my dreams!

I revisited the restaurant last summer, and the cake was still on the menu. I had to have it, ala mode this time! On my third and last visit, I managed to avoid looking at the dessert menu, but it's still there. Perhaps the closing of Bistro 110 will help instill better eating habits in me. Still, I'll miss it. That cake is delicious!

Another July 4 Coming Up

2011-07-03T09:48:00.004-05:00

As I've told you, I don't care much for holidays. My 4th of July story from childhood has been told here several times; it you're interested, see the archives of this blog. Now that I'm in a building where all holidays are "celebrated," of course I have the option to attend the picnic on the 9th floor outdoor deck. One drawback is that it's likely to be very hot out there, making it necessary to carry food into the adjoining air-conditioned Bistro. Another is that the menu is filled with fattening but tempting goodies such as hamburgers, hot dogs, and pie, among many other things. Having no willpower, I will certainly overeat. The trouble is with me, not the picnic.

How I envy the pencil-thin residents who seem to eat far more than I, yet never gain weight. I'm probably the only one who has been dieting strenuously for over a year with no weight loss whatsoever. My doctor says I should be satisfied that I am not gaining. Small consolation. At what age will I be able to accept my fat body as it is, without resentment? I still dread the comments I always hear at the annual family Christmas gathering. People seem to think that I live on fattening foods. Far from it. Of course I don't get much exercise, but that's out of my control right now. I must have the slowest metabolism in the country. Oh well, I still will have to make up my mind about the picnic. I have plenty to do if I decide not to go. I guess this is just another dilemma of aging. I have always been at least a bit heavy, but this is the first time no diet has worked at all. I've always lost at least a few pounds before. Perhaps it's just too late.

Outside My Comfort Zone

2011-06-21T09:37:00.007-05:00

I gave a speech last week, a speech on self-publishing to about 25 fellow Clare residents This was an unusual occurrence for me; I haven't given a real speech since my retirement 12 years ago. (I did take part in two panel discussions in 2008). By now, I've retreated further into my introverted silence and my green leather recliner.

To say that I was nervous would be understatement. I was terrified. For one thing, I can no longer stand for long, so I had to ask for a stool. Of course I got one. I was asked if I wanted to give a Power Point presentation, but I explained that Power Point was just gaining ground when I retired, and I've had no need to learn how to use it (actually, I'd like to, but I don't have it on my copy of Microsoft software -- it's not the professional edition).

So how did it go? Surprisingly well. I actually recycled most of the material from my other blog, Write Your Life! which I no longer work on. In fact, my articles on self-publishing won awards from IWPA and NFPW a couple of years back. My audience seemed interested. Perhaps I'm finally getting my old message about the need for elders to write their life stories across. I even had some questions to answer! I hope those who congratulated me on a good presentation were being sincere. I'm neither well-known nor popular here (partly by choice, partly by circumstance), so this experience left me somewhat elated. If I get a small amount of movement toward a community of writers, I'll be happy, So far, I've inspired two residents to write Rictameters, my favorite poetic form, so there may be hope.

Now if I can only think of some ideas for another self-published book--I really enjoy the process. Speaking? Not so much, but at least I've proved to myself that I can still do it.

A May Update and a Sad Commentary on Aging

2011-05-23T11:47:00.005-05:00

In case anybody is wondering, my cracked kneecap has healed, more or less, and my enforced confinement ended with the month of March. It was a rather depressing time, but somehow, since I had little to do anyway, it didn't matter that much. Anyway, I'm basically O.K. and back to my routine, slight as it is. My doctor said everyone living in a senior facility needs at least three regular obligations to keep life interesting. I have them: my Thursday morning volunteer duties at the Washington Street information desk at the Chicago Cultural Center, my regular Sunday brunch with three fellow residents, and my monthly editorial meeting and the editing process for The Clarion, our resident newsletter. I'm afraid I'm no longer able to take long walks (I haven't been for quite some time), but I'm not entirely a hermit. Of course there are numerous activities here at The Clare, but not all of them interest me. I'd like to add a regular blogging schedule, but so far, I don't seem to have much to write about. Perhaps I'll try harder.

So here goes: last week, the Chicago Tribune published an article entitled, "This Old Soldier Won't Just Fade Away: Pushing 90, vet battles to stay in apartment where he and his wife have lived for years." The story affected me, because I've done a lot of thinking about the plights of old people, many of whom may not be as fortunate as I am.

The veteran in question and his wife have lived in a tiny apartment in a Near North high-rise building for a decade, and now the management wants them out by May 31. The issue apparently is not financial; one stated issue is bedbugs, which the vet claims came from extermination efforts next door. However, the real reason seems to be doubts that the couple, childless, can continue to live in a building that doesn't offer social services or help of any kind. The man's wife is described as having "cognitive impairment" and was found roaming the building halls alone and confused after her husband was briefly hospitalized after a winter fall.

I suspect that situations like this are not rare. According to the couple's lawyer, the old soldier feels disrespected, and doesn't want to move. The management has switched from forced eviction to an offer of a month-to-month lease continuation, allowing their lawyer to find the couple more suitable living quarters, but they don't want to move. With military pride, the vet defends his years of military service and points with pride at the mementos hanging on the walls.

It's impossible not to have synpathy for this man and others like him. What is the answer for old people without relatives to watch over them? Where do individual rights end? Aging is inevitable, and cognitive impairment is more common than we like to believe. So what should happen to old people like this? That's a very big problem our society must face, and those of us with the foresight and the resources to avoid such a situation should consider ourselves lucky. One of the problems of aging seems to be resistance to change, and change is inevitable, in more ways than one.

Cracked?

2011-03-10T11:30:00.007-06:00

As a resident of a senior building, I thought I was aware of all the ailments that affect seniors, and there are many. Somehow, I came up with a new one, a cracked kneecap. No, I hadn't fallen; I have no explanation for how it happened.

As you may recall, I had both arthritic knees replaced more than two years ago. All went well, and I have been pain-free. Then I suddenly got pain in my right knee about three weeks ago. I was worried, and the pain did not go away, so I finally called my orthopedic surgeon. There's no such thing as a quick appointment for a non-emergency, so I had a bit of a wait. I finally got in last week. Guess what? The x-rays showed a cracked kneecap. I'd never heard of such a thing. The prescription was to wear a "knee immobilizer" (a big black velcro-equipped wrap that keeps my right knee from bending) for four weeks. It is removable, so fortunately I don't have to sleep in it, but imagine having to stagger around with one unbendable knee!

At the end of the four weeks, I see the doctor again. He is expecting the crack to heal by then. I certainly hope so. Most of the time, I have to sit in my recliner with my legs up, so I'm getting a lot of reading, puzzles, and TV watching done, but little else. I still stagger to the dining room for breakfast every morning, but my usual Thursday morning volunteer assignment is on hold until April. I order groceries and supplies from Pea Pod--I'd forgotten how convenient that is. It's expensive, too, but I don't have much choice. I'm skipping most of the activities here at The Clare because my leg isn't supposed to hang down for too long. More fun!

As someone said, old age is not for the weak.

Reading in the 21st Century

2011-01-02T11:01:00.010-06:00

As an avid reader of books, I determinedly resisted the lure of the Kindle and its cousins, the electronic readers that have become so popular.

This Christmas morning, among my niece's array of gifts placed under the Christmas tree, there were a beautifully wrapped Kindle and a red leather case with my name on them. Since I never do much about gifts, I was pleasantly surprised. I decided to give the Kindle a try. I was amazed at how fast and easy it was to download a best-seller (John Grissom's The Confession). I like a good crime story once in a while, and this one had many twists and turns to keep me interested. I read it in no time and ordered another book. I'm now nearly finished with that one (Jonathan Franzen's Freedom). I wanted to know what all the excitement was on Oprah. The cost? $9.99 for the first, $12.99 for the second, nearly paid for by the $20 Amazon gift certificate I also received.

So there you have it: I'm hooked on the Kindle. That doesn't mean I'll give up all "real" books, but I'll certainly read more best sellers in addition to the self-published books I've emphasized for a long time. Most of those aren't in Kindle format unless they have amazing sales, as most don't. It's not worth the cost to offer my own books for Kindle publication; they'll never be best-sellers.

We seniors need to give new technology a chance; with a Kindle and a wi-fi connection, a whole world of reading is available, and you can make the type size as large as you like. Pages turn easily, and the device is easy to hold. It's another near-miracle of the modern world.

Christmas Again!

2010-12-29T15:05:00.007-06:00

I just returned from Tulsa, Oklahoma, where I spent Christmas with my niece, her family, and my brother. This once-a-year family reunion has become a tradation, and a great one at that.

My niece, Cindy, loves Christmas and Santa Claus. She always has her house beautifully decorated; she actually had her Christmas shopping done by November 1 this year, and the number of gifts under the tree was enormous. The whole process overwhelms me to the point of paralysis, so I'm glad to have someone take care of the whole holiday. Cindy is a great cook, too, so I ate more meals than usual, including desserts. I haven't had to courage to step on the scale yet.

My favorite gift was a Kindle book reader. I had been very skeptical about this, being a lover of real books, but during this holiday I got hooked. Reading seems faster and easier on this little machine, and it's easier to hold, too. I'm not ready to give up real books entirely, but it's nice to know that I can download almost any best-seller for about $10 before it comes out in paperback (I've always been too frugal to buy hard cover books).

I want to thank my niece Cindy, her husband Scott, and their daughter Lauren for getting me into the spirit of the season. I hope this tradition lasts for a while longer, and that I will remain well enough to travel (airport walks are a problem, but there's always a wheelchair if I choose to use one; I didn't this year).

Next comes New Years, and I'm back at The Clare for that. We'll have a special New Years Eve dinner. It's time to get busy on the January newsletter, and I have a lot of puzzles to do and lots of material to read. Winter isn't so bad after all!

Photo: Clare tree in the Ambassador Lounge

Rictameter for December

2010-12-05T11:19:00.010-06:00

A Rictameter for December

Fresh snow

All soft and white:

I admire your beauty,

Dread the thought of later days when

Brilliant white turns into dirty gray that

mars the landscape, much as age and

illness mar the promise

of golden years,

Fresh snow.

It's Nice to be Mentioned!

2010-11-22T10:53:00.004-06:00

I've mentioned before how much I enjoy seeing my name in print. I especially enjoy it now, since I've not been actively writing or working or doing much of anything in the literary field, or any other field, lately. In this month's The Writer magazine, Jenny Rough mentions this blog and my poetry book (Elder Expectations) in a short paragraph in her article "The Craft Welcomes Writers of all Ages" on page 12. The article emphasizes that writing is something anyone can do, regardless of physical fitness, age limits, or age requirements. Her examples mention a writer who began writing at 14, all the way up to one who is still writing past 100. At 78, I'm closer to the oldest than to the youngest, of course.

As Rough mentions, I have "made it [my] mission to encourage seniors to write." I've had limited success in this effort, although I have encouraged at least two residents of my senior residence to write rictameters (my favorite poetic form) and a few to contribute to the resident newsletter I edit. I'll soldier on in this effort, and even try to contribute to this blog more often. I can't entirely have run out of things to say, lame though some of them may be. A writer never really quits, I guess.

Anyway, Thanks, Jenny, for letting me see my name in print once more. Now if more people would buy my books . . .

Older Animals Can be Active Too!

2010-10-25T10:45:00.005-05:00

Remember Cheeta, co-star of those old Tarzan movies? Perhaps you've wondered whatever happeneed to him.

Thanks to a fellow Clare resident who has a second home in Palm Springs, CA, I have found out the answer to a question I didn't even know I had. Cheeta is alive and well, doing abstract paintings in Palm Springs.

Last August, the Clare book club held a Tarzan day. The club discussed Cheeta, a best-selling Hollywood expose purportedly written by the chimpanzee who starred in the Tarzan movies, based on Edgar Rice Burroughs' 25 Tarzan Adventures. After discussing the book, the group had a luncheon of Cheeta favorites, includng Bananas Foster, served by The Clare's Dining Room Manager. While the more "snooty" among you, and among Clare residents as well, may dismess all this as silly, when I found out about it (after the fact), I thought is was a refreshing story. We "art lovers" sometimes forget that art can be fun, too.

Cheeta, perhaps the oldest living primate in captivity, now lives near downtown Palm Springs, cared for by retired singer/dancer Dan Westfall, who inherited Cheeta from his uncle. Cheeta has hius own walk of fame star, enjoys three regular meals a day, and receives two insulin injections daily for his diabetes. Doesn't this remind you of the state of some older human beings as well?

Like us humans, Cheeta is keeping busy in old age. His abstract paintings have sold for as much as $10,000 each (for charity). Great art? Who cares? I think it's an interesting story, further evidence of Jane Goodall's contention that chimpanzees are closely related to us.

The photo above shows Cheeta with his two pantings purchased for The Clare (at much less than $10,000). They may eventually be displayed in a public area, or in the apartment of an animal lover who fell in love with them. To those who scoff, I say, "Loosen up!"

A Rictameter: Time Flies

2010-10-21T06:33:00.003-05:00

Time flies:

An old cliche,

Yet oh so true these days

With meetings, puzzles, TV shows

All designed to keep us busy, content.

In youth, time seemed to crawl along:

Plans were made, lessons learned.

Now, not enough.

Time flies.

Admirable or Foolhardy: What Would You Do?

2010-10-20T09:40:00.006-05:00

One of the advantages of living in a large continuous care senior residence is the chance to meet fellow seniors of all types. One of the most memorable people I've met here at The Clare is Anne (not her real name). When I first saw her, I assumed that she was near death: shaved head, halting gait, negative attitude. She continued to come to eat breakfast with the Independent Residents, of whom I am one, even though she lived on one of the Assisted Living floors.

When I first met Anne, she was complaining about the trouble of selling her downtown condo, where she had previously lived. This was or had been a problem for many of us during these uncertain economic times. The next thing I heard from her was that she was trying to cancel her contract with a real estate agent and keep the condo; in fact, she planned many improvements and changes to the place, which she obviously loved. I admired her for her forward-looking plans, since she had told me she had terminal bone cancer. She takes an array of serious medications, some of them experimental. She complained often of pain, sleeping problems, night sweats, and other alarming symptoms. One experimental treatment laid her low, so she was forced to discontinue it.

Anne is very intelligent, but like many of us, having trouble dealing with the problems of aging and illness. I started to think about what I would do in her situation (she is the same age as I am, 78). Would I have the courage to make such grandiose (and expensive) plans to move out of a care facility while facing an uncertain and likely brief future? My answer would be no, but I can't fault Anne for her decision. I have never met a cancer sufferer more optimistic and forward-looking, not to mention one having so much energy despite her fragile appearance.

On one hand, I admire Anne for her tenacity. She is very determined (and overly critical of everything, from the food to the service to the staff to other aspects of this relatively comfortable place). Few approve her attituude or understand her desire to move out of this beautiful place. Is she being admiraable or foolhardy? She seemed to enjoy telling me about her struggles with her remodeling contractor to get everything in her condo just right. Yesterday, she finally moved out. However, she confided in me that she knew things would not be the same as they were before.

Even so, all the planning and fretting seemed to keep Anne alive. One of the drawbacks of senior living, especially for those of us with no local family, is the feeling that this is the end, the final move. Of course many healthy seniors here are on the go every moment, but some of us are contented to just relax and enjoy easy living. I do that too much. So I guess I admire Anne more than I condemn her. I wish her the very best, which would include a cure for her cancer. Will it happen? Somehow I doubt it, but Anne is certainly a profile of courage and an example of having plans for the future, even a very uncertain one.

Photo: The Clare, from the Chicago Tribune.

Conferences and the Aging

2010-08-29T19:53:00.004-05:00

I attended some parts of the National Federation of Press Women's annual conference, held this year at the Union League Club in Chicago. It was a very successful, well-run conference, with interesting speakers and excellent meals. My main purpose in going was to support the organization, of which I've been a member since 2006, and to receive my third place award for the Clarion, the residents' newsletter that I edit.

This conference reminded me again that I'm old. I can't say I didn't enjoy some parts of it, but I got very tired and overfed, and I skipped one reception, one banquet, and one cocktail party during the two main days of the conference and the evening before. First, I found that the speakers were addressing matters that didn't much concern me: dressing for success, getting a book published, making money. I know that my books will never attract traditional publishers, and the process of finding an agent, writing book proposals, etc., which were spelled out skillfully, just made me tired. I found out long ago that I'm not cut out to be an entrepreneur, and that's what a writer must be to succeed. I enjoy writing, but I just don't have the interest or the ability to promote my work. If I expected the world to come to my door, it just hasn't happened.

Another problem is my hearing. With my state-of-the-art hearing aids, I can hear the amplified speeches (unless the speaker has an unusual accent or mumbles), but the general level of chatter in a large dining room is really annoying. I can't hear colleagues across the table, and I can barely hold a conversation with those nearby because of the background noise. I feel that I miss out on a lot of interesting conversation, and I probably appear either mute or stupid, or both. No, I'm not the oldest member of the group, but some people seem to have retained their mobiity and their hearing much better than I. This conference made me feel a bit sorry for myself.

I wrote last year about problems with that year's NFPW conference in San Antonio. Of course that involved air travel, rainy weather, inappropriate plumbing fixtures, etc., things I avoided this year. Still, I have a feeling that I'm finished with conferences. Conferences are good for the young and agile, and I used to enjoy them very much. Now, they just seem to be too much work. I need a shot of energy--and better hearing.

At least one good thing came out of this conference: I may have been inspired to write more again, mostly just for myself.

The Joys of City Living

2010-08-26T06:25:00.002-05:00

Occasionally I stop whatever I'm doing (if anything) to look around and think about the advantages of living on the 35th floor of a highrise building, with a Lake Michigan view.

This has been a good week so far: it's time for the Tall Ship festival, which brings 20 beautiful sailing vessels to Navy Pier. While other tall buildings block my view of nearby Navy Pier, I was able to observe part of a parade of the ships on Tuesday evening: all sizes and shapes, the ships seemed to be reminders of a romantic past. They are very impressive.

To make matters even better, I heard the sound of fireworks about nine o'clock Tuesday night, and again Wednesday. For once, the fireworks were directly in my line of sight over the lake, and they were spectacular. I hope they continue every night. There's something about elaborate fireworks displays that makes me feel good. Yes, there's "medicine" in living near the lake.

Further Reflections on the IWPA Awards Luncheon

2010-05-19T10:55:00.003-05:00

As I wrote earlier, I was fortunate enough to receive a first-place award from the Illinois Woman's Press Association Saturday at the annual awards luncheon at the Union League Club. The award was for editing The Clarion, our resident newsletter here at The Clare at Watertower. Of course I was pleased by the award, but my real inspirations from the occasion probably came from the beautiful paintings in the Club's main dining room, and more importantly, from the student journalists' awards.

Each year, the organization encourages high school newspaper sponsors to encourage their students to enter their best efforts for judging. I was impressed by this year's crop of winners. The young people were quiet, respectful, and well-dressed for the occasion: no baggy pants or holey jeans in sight. There was at least one short, short mini skirt, but the wearer had just the figure and legs to wear one. I'm not so stodgy as to object to such apparel at that age; there will be time for sedate business suits later. Some of the male winners did, indeed, wear conservative suits and neckties.

In an age when the newspapers and TV broadcasts are filled with gang crime and teen shootings, it was encouraging to see such an attractive lot of highschoolers. Granted, these were mostly suburbanites, not Chicago ghetto dwellers, but it is encouraging to see students who care about writing and do it well. Perhaps if more writing were encouraged, the crime rate would decline even in depressed nieghborhoods. In fact, today's Chicago Tribune featured poetry written by residents of a local juvenile detention facility. There's nothing like writing to free a person's thoughts and encourage sharing.

I've long encouraged writing for everyone, from children to senior citizens, so I'm happy to find a bit of evidence that there may be something to that idea. Perhaps it's because writing promotes thinking that it works so well!

Awards Again!

2010-05-16T10:28:00.006-05:00

Every year at this time, the Illinois Woman's Press Association holds its annual awards luncheon. In each of the past three years, I've received first-place awards for one of my books: Reinventing Myself, Seniorwriting, and Elder Expectations. I've also received awards for this blog and for various individual blog posts and book reviews.

I've been writing much less lately, so I was surprised yesterday by a first-place award for two issues of The Clare's resident newsletter, The Clarion. The category (one of many) was "Publications Edited Regularly by Entrant," a new category for me.

The judge (not an IWPA member, but a member of the local writing community) commented as follows: "It's clear this is a "home-made" newsletter and labor of love and, despite the fact that its audience are residents and not a professional organization, its features and stories are really interesting, the photos well-chosen, and the organization and content informative and reflective of the active, interesting, accomplished residents." I suspect that this is the first senior residence newsletter entered in the contest (most are newsletters for professional associations), so I was elated. Perhaps this will draw attention to the fact that we seniors are still alive and kicking, and that seniors (the many contributors to The Clarion) can write.

I plan to share this honor with my staff and all the residents of The Clare who have contributed their talents and their stories. For me, this is a labor of love. Now The Clarion goes on to the National Federation of Press Women's national contest, where it will probably be overshadowed by the professional organizations' newsletters, but I believe I've made my point. I'm so glad I began this newsletter, now in its second year. It gives me a sense of purpose and achievement.

Writing careers, even those as unprofitable as mine, need never stop. There is at least one IWPA member (the organization is 125 years old) who is ninety, and several are in their eighties. Write on!

Tests, Tests, and More Tests!

2010-05-15T19:12:00.005-05:00

It seems that as I've grown older, my spring ritual has included going for all sorts of tests and medical examinations, even when I'm not sick. I no longer have the youthful outlook that nothing will go wrong; I'm always expecting something.

For the last few weeks, I've had appointments with my heaaring aid specialist, my dentist, my internist, and my opthalmologist. I had to make a special trip to have blood drawn, as ordered by my doctor. She also ordererd a stress test, the chemical kind, since I can't necessarily walk on a treadmill long enough and fast enough for the desired result. That is not fun; I've had such a test before, and it requires shots of chemicals, probably dangerous ones, and much waiting.

First, I had a tooth extracted, but since it was in the back of my mouth, I figured I didn't need it. It took a while to recover from the extraction. Now my dentist will want to put in an implant to replace the tooth, but I see no need for that. We'll see. My next visit is coming up.

My new hearing aids seem to be working as well as possible (no hearing aids give perfect hearing), so that was a quick visit. I got new transparent plastic "wires," the ones that go into my ears. So far, so good.

The doctor visit and blood tests didn't turn up anything especially frightening. My cholesteral is up, so I need to take a statin medicine again. My blood pressure was within reason, but the medication may be making me tired, so I'm trying a new one. Now I have to have my blood pressure checked again, but fortunately, I can do that here at The Clare. I got new prescriptions for all six of my meds, so I'm set for another year. I sometimes think it's crazy to take so many, but when I stop one, odd things seem to happen, like the new shoulder pains when I tried stopping Celebrex. Oh, well.

I passed the stress test. The doctors always get a bit uneasy because I have a slightly irregular heartbeat, but so did my mother, and she lived to age 95.

The worst news from a financial standpoint is from the opthalmologist: I need new eyeglasses. Granted, mine are quite old, but they've served me well. Buying three new pair of progressive bifocals (one regular, one spare, one prescrription sunglasses) costs an arm and a leg, even though I don't go for the premiere designer frames. I still haven't filled the new glasses prescription, but I probably will do so next week.

Now I have nothing to worry about until the bills come in: the yearly Medicare deductible will apply. I'm always tempted to skip these yearly tests, but I guess I'm brainwashed by the medical community. I hope that if I do get some dread disease, it will be discovered early and be curable, but then I remember an acquaintance who did fine on his stress test and died of a sudden heart attack soon thereafter. He wasn't even old.

So now I'm all tested and medicated and hoping for a healthy year. But who knows what is in store for me? Getting old is not for the weak.

The Trouble with being a Good Samaritan

2010-05-09T10:14:00.004-05:00

I've lived in Chicago for a long time, so I don't have the country fear of crime that bothers others. In general, I trust people. I've become more mellow living in a senior residence where nearly everyone exudes helpfulness and sympathy. Of course I don't fall for those Internet schemes involving Nigerian con men eager to give me money if I'll only send some of my own. I always thought I was quite alert and savvy.

So what happened? A week or so ago, I fell for a young woman's sob story in the grocery store parking lot. She was obviously pregnant, or perhaps bolstered with a pillow (I don't know much about pregnancy), and she claimed to be about to give birth and needed a ride to a hospital quite far away. She told me where she lived (probly not true) and babbled on a lot, but I couldn't understand much of what she said. I made the mistake of offering her money, and she saw where my wallet was. She strongly insisted on a ride, so I agreed to drive her to an el station; the hospital was too far away.

I stowed my purse, with wallet inside, on the floor beneath my feet, but my car is very small, and the woman was supposedly in pain, so she moved around a lot. I just kept my eyes on the road and was in a hurry to get rid of the woman before something happened. (This being Chicago, she might well have had a gun, so I began to worry). After quite a bit of driving around (I wasn't sure of the location of the el stop), she finally agreed to get out as a bus approached. I heaved a sigh of relief to get rid of her, and proceeded home.

I started to have nagging doubts when I later observed that, although my wallet was still in my purse, it seemed out of place. Sure enough, when I took it out, it was very light. Most of its contents were gone. The cash was gone, of course: probably about $80 or so, but I'm not sure. More importantly, my major credit cards were gone, and probably some minor ones I no longer use and can't remember. Fortunately, my driver's license and medical cards were left, as well as one credit card that was in the purse but outside the wallet.

I immediately called Chase Bank and Bank of America and cancelled two credit cards and a debit card (my pin number was not in the wallet, so the thief couldn't have used that very much). By the time I called, soon after the incident, one card had been used, but for only a small amount. I'm glad the thief was not a big spender! Apparently she made a few other small purchases--small enough so as not to be asked for an ID. I've not found any large charges on any of the cards, but more could be on the way.

Anyway, I now have new cards with different numbers, and I've used my new debit card successfully to replace the cash. I'll check out future statements very carefully. I am ashamed for being so gullible, but the woman must have been an experienced thief to grab the wallet, strip it, and return it to my purse without my noticing. Some slight of hand must have been involved.

While I've always believed in people helping people, and although I could probably afford to lose what I lost, I know I'll be more wary from now on. No wonder city people, especially, sometimes seem so cold and distant. The big city is not a friendly place for good samaritans, and I'll probably never try again to be one.

A Good Day--Optimism Restored!

2010-04-28T14:16:00.003-05:00

I began today thinking that it would be filled with difficulty. To be honest, I tend to be a creature of routine, and I hate to make telephone calls. Perhaps it's my loner nature, or perrhaps it's my hearing difficulty (even with very expensive hearing aids), but the thought of making routine phone calls fills me with dread of automated answering services, surly service representatives, and disappointment.

Today, I had three problems. First, I had made two medical appointments I wouldn't be able to keep. I had made an appointment with my opthalmologist for an afternoon when I had a newsletter meeting at the same time. My mistake, of course, but I hate to ask for changes. I called, and the answer could not have been more courteous. My appointment was rescheduled for only a few days later. One down.

Then, I had an appointment for a stress test that turned out to be on the same day as a luncheon at my old English Department. I"ve missed a lot of these in the past, and really wanted to go. Hospital staffs are overburdened, so I was on hold for several stints, but eventually, I got a real, courteous person, and got another appointment. No problem.

Finally the biggest problem, which I purposely left for last. My large flat-screen HDTV, almost a year old, suddenly stopped working. The screen turned a bright kelly green, and that was it. It happened yesterday. I'd never seen such a thing. My first thought was to call the dealer. After another atomated phone system, I got to their repair service. I was told that the problem was probably in my cable box (also less than a year old). I hated to call the cable company, with its poor reputation for service, but endured more time on hold. I finally reached an amazingly patient and understanding woman. She directed me through a long series of steps: searching for serial numbers, plugging and unplugging connections, pressing various buttons on two remote controls, finally unplugging the TV power cord. All this took nearly half an hour, but somehow, it worked! My beautiful hi-def picture was back.

My kudos to Comcast! The woman I spoke to was so patient; she had me trying vaarious steps, and she never gave up or became irritated. Now things are back to normal, and I can go back to watching too much TV.

Today's experiences have improved my opinion of service representatives, with or without automated phone systems. I somehow never expected that everything would turn out so well. Chalk up one for a more optimistic attitude!

Baseball: Sign of Spring

2010-04-12T10:46:00.005-05:00

Baseball: Sign of Spring: A Rictameter

Cubs play

At Wrigley, first

Home game, exciting day.

They often fail and make us wait

Until it's time to say, "Wait 'til next year."

But still we watch and hope "Cubs Win!"

Will echo through the stands.

A sign of spring?

Cubs play.

Facing Reality

2010-02-24T08:57:00.002-06:00

It didn't exactly come as a surprise, but one of the features of senior living that I hadn't devoted much thought to is the frequency of loss among this age group. In the year since I've moved in, a few residents of Independent Living have been moved to assisted living or nursing care, and two or three others have died.

None of these people have been close friends; it's just that a semi-familiar face (in one case, a man I've worked with on a resident committee) simply disappears, and is soon mentioned in an administrative publication.

In addition to those cases, the number of people transported to the hospital after falls or other disasters is and always has been impressive. I've signed a lot of get-well cards.

Somehow, when I lived among the younger, such things seldom came to my attention. It's sad but rather different when I hear that some old acquaintance across the country has died. That somehow seems less shocking and more understandable. Of course the main shock comes when a much younger person dies. One of my younger cousins died recently of cancer, but that wasn't entirely unexpected.

Here at The Clare, many residents are in their eighties and nineties (the oldest is over 100). We 70-somethings are getting a lesson on what it means to grow old. Some residents are remarkably active, regardless of age, while some seem to gradually fade away. For some, the deterioration is obvious; for others, all seems well.

All this is a bit hard to handle. All I can do is resolve to stay as active as possible (although my main activity of writing and editing is a rather sedentery one) and remain optimistic. If I live as long as my mother did, I'll have eighteen years left, but If I had followed my father's pattern, I would have died seven years ago. I know which I prefer, but the choice is not really mine.

At any rate, I'm learning to face reality without becoming depressed. I guess that's one of the realities of senior living.

The Failure of Democracy, or Why I Ignore Politics: A View from 360 BC

2010-02-01T10:20:00.006-06:00

"His inclination was to turn his back on p0litics--it seemed altogether too hopeless a mess. He had no faith in the rule of the rich, nor any confidence in the ability of ordinary citizens. The rich, as he saw, had mostly their special interests in mind, and during the time of their regimes they had shown to what length they could go to defend the advantages of the few against the majority of ordinary people. But the rule by the many was no remedy, because ordinary people were too easily swayed by the emotional and deceptive rhetoric of ambitious politicians. Politics, in other words, seemed an irremediably corrupted affair, and all a rational person could do was to attend to personal matters, and to pursue wisdom in the privacy of one's solitude and a small circle of friends."

From Plato's The Republic, 360 BC

So what's the answer? Democracy is imperfect, but I've never observed a better, fairer system of government. Thanks to my brother, John Marshall, for alerting me to this quotation.

A Different Look at Alzheimer's: A Book Review

2010-01-31T11:00:00.003-06:00

A review of Still Alice, by Lisa Genova (Pocket Books, 2009).

This is not a book to read for amusement or quick entertainment. It iis a short and provocative read for anyone seriously wondering about the ravages of Alzheimer's
Disease, or anyone faced by the disease among family or friends. It's a disease that nobody wants to get, but one that seems to be getting more prevalent.

In her first novel, Lisa Genova, neurologist and Alzheimer's advocate, creates an early-onset victim of the disease, Harvard professor Alice Howland, who gradually sees her world crumbling. A world-renowned experst in linguistics with a successful professor husband and three grown children, Alice lives a very active life of research, teaching, and speaking at conferences all over the world. She is also a runner.

Imagine the horror when this active woman can't find her way home from a run in her neighborhood, forgets the ingredients in a favorite recipe, and generally finds her life crumbling around her. She seeks extensive medical opinions and has many tests, but despite her husband's doubts, the outcome is the dreaded one: at age 50, she has early stage Alzheimer's.

Through extensive research, Genova has managed to create a seemingly realistic picture of what it must be like for an intelligent, successful person to notice her mind and memory crumbling. Alice tries various drugs, but to little avail. She worries about having to give up her teaching job, and eventually, she must.

Her family relationships change considerably, leading to greater understanding and patience, although her husband feels compeled to take a new job in New York. Early on, she starts a support group for others also suffering the disease, so she still feels she's making a difference in the world. One of her final public acts is giving a speech before the Dementia Care Conference.

With the help of her son, her daughters, and a devoted care giver, Alice survives in her own way.
This book probably takes us as directly as possible into the life of an Alzheimer's patient through the eyes of Lisa Genova, who has done her research carefully. It is a fascinating, if frightening, book.

A Short Lesson on Chicago Politics

2010-01-29T19:20:00.000-06:00

There I was, sitting at the Washington Street information desk at the Chicago Cultural Center, reading a book on a day when the cold weather deterred tourists from coming in, when I noticed an assembly of large men entering the lobby. They were obviously waiting for someone; the guard informed me that the Mayor was coming soon. He was appearing at a meeting in the building.

This information aroused my interest only slightly; I've seen Mayor Richard M. Daley before. I'm not very interested in politics, and he's no hero of mine. I do have a picture of him handing me an award for teaching some years ago.

As time passed and I read on, the retainers began to get slightly anxious. Then, finally, the Mayor entered in his characteristic hat; he handed the hat and his overcoat coat to one of his assistants and proceeded toward the elevator. Imagine my surprise when he looked my way, came to my desk, and shook my hand, as a camera flashed. I am a political nobody, just an elderly Cultural Center volunteer, and he's not even running for office this year. An aide handed me a card for claiming a copy of my picture with the Mayor, but I'll probably decline.

This experience reminded me how politicians work. They seem to be on the lookout for hands to shake, even when they are being ignored. I remembered that when I lived in my Old Town condo, at least three other residents of the small building also displayed pictures of themselves with the Mayor. He surely gets around. I guess that's one of the secrets of getting elected: greet everybody like a long-lost friend and shake many hands. It seems to work for Mayor Daley. Will I vote for him next time around? Probably not, but I can see why he's popular.

Trying My Best

2010-01-18T10:10:00.002-06:00

This is a NuStep cross trainer exercise machine. It is one of two machines from the Clare fitness room that I can use, but unfortunately inertia often sets in and I stay away. I am, at best, a reluctant exerciser.

I'm sold on the value of staying active, but I seem to be the ultimate recliner potato. I am lazy and tend to be inactive. Anyway, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (barring special appointments and responsibilities) I appear for exercise classes on the 19th floor. The leader, Jan, is wonderful: always complimentary and encouraging no matter what one does or does not manage to do. "Modify this exercise" is her frequent instruction, usually directed to me. Why?

Some parts of the exercise routine are simply impossible for me. For one thing, I cannot raise my right arm; it's been that way since an accident in 1942, followed by another in 1952. By then, my arm was misshapen and nearly useless, although I continue to write with my right hand. Due to arthritis in my shoulders, my left arm can't be raised very far, either. Despite various bouts with physical therapy, arm exercises are a lost cause.

My legs don't work especially well, either. Two knee replacements helped, but I still lack strength and a sense of balance. I'm the one who can't get out of a chair without using my hands, and the one who clings to the back of the chair during most standing exercises.

Fortunately, my fellow senior exercisers are not toned athletes, but some of them, including some of those considerably older than I, do very well indeed. My many unathletic years seem to have caught up with me. I'm overweight and clumsy, even after more than a year of these exercise classes. It bothered me when our oldest resident, age 101, connected to her oxygen tank, did some of the excercises better than I did.

Many times, I've thought about discontinuing my participation in the exercise program. Still, I keep going. This is one area in which I cannot be a perfectionist, but I'm conquering my embarrassment and trying my best. Some movement is undoubtedly better than none! I'm reminded again, though, that old age is not for the weak. And I'll try to visit my favorite exercise machine regularly soon!

More on Senior Travel

2010-01-05T05:46:00.004-06:00

I've noted a lot of concern about the new air safety rules. On my recent trip to Tulsa (or actually on the way home) I was exposed to a full-body scan for the first time. Actually, it was easier for me than the usual pat-down brought on by my two knee replacements always setting off the alarm.

Privacy? Perhaps younger people feel differently, but I just don't care. My ugly, misshapen body is sure to be ignored once explosives are ruled out, and I'm sure no one will bother to look further. Yes, all these security measures are a bother, but they seem necessary. Safe flights are a high priority for me. Such things wouldn't be necessary if we lived in a perfect world, but that's not the way things are. Let's welcome full-body scans as long as they are needed.

Looking back at Christmas in Tulsa

2010-01-01T09:53:00.011-06:00

A Blizzard? In Tulsa?

There's Work to be Done!

The Gifts Await!

The Stockings Were Hung . . .

The first surprise of my Christmas trip was a blizzard: the first ever to hit Tulsa, I believe. Unlike 2008. I managed to avoid airport delays. I arrived before the blizzard and left after it. As usual, the food was excellent; I gained five pounds! That was with careful eating. I can't imagine how much I would have gained if I had "pigged out."

Tulsa lacks Chicago's huge snow-clearing crew, so the side streets were never plowed. Needless to say, we stayed in a lot. It was cold, too. I read a lot and did a lot of puzzles (I never travel without those puzzle books), and I received some fine gifts, including a Flip Video Camera. Now I need to find some suitable subjects for video.

The best part of the holiday was being with family. My grandniece, Lauren, a junior at the University of Arizona, is thinking about her medical school entrance exams already. I wish her luck. Although there were some doctors on her maternal grandmother's side of the family, there have been none among the Marshalls. We seem to be descended from a long line of farmers and craftsmen. Lauren is very inteligent and a diligent scholar, so she should make it as a doctor.

Now I'm back home, and the new year has begun. Life at The Clare will soon be back to normal. My first anniversary of moving in comes in just a bit over a week. As I get older, the time seems to fly past faster and faster. I'm hoping for another great Christmas in Tulsa in 2010.

(Photos by John Marshall)

Another Christmas in Tulsa!

2009-12-24T08:41:00.000-06:00

I'm spending a second Christmas in Tulsa with my niece Cindy and her family. How fortunate I am to have at least the remnants of a family to spend the holidays with! Being old and childless can send me into a deep depression, so Cindy's invitation is wonderful. My brother (Cindy's father) comes here from Utah, and we always have a good, if quiet, time.

There comes a time when the old childhood home is gone, the parents are long gone, and it's time for new traditions. Cindy loves Christmas; she always has a lovely tree surrounded by a lot of presents, and she cooks up a storm. Her food is too tempting for my fat body, but it's certainly enjoyable.

I seldom do any decorating or gift buying on my own, so I really appreciate this new holiday tradition, transported here from Houston, where Cindy used to live. Even as we wait for a predicted snow storm, the fireplaces burn cheerfully and the Christmas carols play. I can feel a bit of Christmas spirit just beginning to affect me. Happy holidays to all, and a great 2010!

Politics? Why me?

2009-12-15T10:02:00.001-06:00

As you may have noticed, I usually steer clear of poilitics in my writing. I do not belong to any party; I'm as afraid of the liberal left as of the religious right, and my usual reaction is just to shrug my shoulders at the goings on in government.

Imagine my surprise when I received an official-looking notice, a "2010 Obama Agenda Survey" from the Republican National Committee. It included a survey marked "DO NOT DESTROY" and a letter admonishinbg, "So please, no matter what, do not discard or destroy your survey." It contains an ID number, so there's no chance of remaining unanimous.

The letter begins as follows:

"Please carefully read and complete the enclosed survey which is registered in your name and affixed with a tracking code to ensure tha it is accounted for in the tabulated results. . . . .I am sending out this questionnaire to gauge here you and other grassroots Republicans stand on the critical issues facing our nation.. I need to hear back from you right away."

Grassroots Republican? I am no such thing. Where did they get my name? Is there an assumption that all old people are Republicans, or just old people who live in luxury buildings? The letter is four pages long and rather repetitious; it accuses President Obama of just about every "sin" in the Republican repertoire.

"That's why we are asking where you stand on Barack Obama's promise to raise taxes...on his plans to give amnesty to illegal immigrants, which could lead to billions of dollars in government handouts and possibly bankrupt Social Security. And how do you feel about Obama's efforts to nationalize health care and have it run by bureaucrats in Washington, D.C.? These are Obama's top priorities!"

Then we get to the bottom line: fundraising. Several times this sentence appears: "please complete your Registered copy of the 2010 Obama Agenda Survey, then make out your check or provide your credit card information in the space provided for your contribution of $500, $250, $100, $50, or even $30 to the Republican National Committee, place it in the postage-paid envelope provided, and mail it right away." The implication is, "no contribution, no survey."

As you can imagine, they won't hear from me. I may return an empty envelope, although that's probably coded too. I'm not a strong supporter or critic of Barack Obama. I guess my basic attitude is to give him a chance. He couldn't do worse than his predecessor. I like his idealism, although I think he is sometimes unrealistic about what he can accomplish. At any rate, I don't see him as a destroyer of our country or an enemy, as this letter presumes I should.

If I'm on some list of Republicans--or Democrats--please remove my name. I am srtrictly independent, and no appreciator of political rhetoric on either side. Please respect my privacy, and don't insult my intelligence!

Thanksgiving Again!

2009-11-26T08:10:00.006-06:00

Last Thanksgiving, I wrote about enjoying a Healthy Choice frozen turkey dinner in the privacy of my condo. This year, I'll be having dinner here at The Clare; the menu seems to include almost everything. This year, my problem will be trying not to eat too much to sabotage my recent weight loss. I still have a lot of weight to lose. I still remember Thanksgivings past, most of them fondly, so I have decided to repeat my 2007 post, also repeated last year.

"I remember the hot kitchen, the wonderful smells, my grandma in her white "cooking dress" making sure that everything was just right. I remember the spotless white linen tablecloth and napkins, the polished silver, the gleaming china and crystal, the place settings arranged just right, no fork out of place.I remember the small family gathered about, just five of us, my father silent as usual, my mother trying to be helpful despite her barely-disguised dislike of her mother-in-law. I remember my brother impatiently waiting for the food, eager to escape to a more active atmosphere somewhere, perhaps a ball game with his friends if the weather was good. I remember sneaking just one more chocolate from the Whitman’s Sampler box that was a holiday tradition. I had no fear of "spoiling" my gigantic appetite when I was surrounded by such great smells!

'I remember my own little apartment kitchen, my husband struggling to cook everything on the tiny stove and in the tiny oven while I tried to find places for all the mismatched plates on the long, makeshift table with the slightly stained gold permanent press tablecloth. The napkins were paper.I remember the crowd of ten or twelve crammed into the little apartment, mostly the single patrons of my husband’s bar who had nowhere else to go for the holiday. Family Thanksgivings had been a tradition in my husband’s family, so this was an important day for him. I was as inept at cooking then as I am now, but he did it enthusiastically. Most of the guests were men, and they ate every crumb of food. We seldom had leftovers in those years. A few guests fell asleep immediately after dinner, usually on the floor if any space was available there.
We continued this Thanksgiving dinner tradition for several years after we moved to our house nearby. It was not a large house, but we filled it with good food and holiday joy for many of the same guests, and a few more.

"I remember the year when we finally ran out of friends to invite for Thanksgiving dinner; everyone had a family and lived in the suburbs by then, while we were still a city family of two. We made reservations for dinner at the Signature Room at the top of the John Hancock Center. It seemed very expensive to my frugal husband, but he ultimately enjoyed the experience. We ate so much at the sumptuous buffet that we couldn’t eat much of the small turkey provided for us, so we took it home (as advertised and recommended). Jules made turkey soup and turkey sandwiches enough to last at least a week. I think we got our money’s worth that year.

"I remember our last Thanksgiving together in 1999. It was also my last Thanksgiving with my mother, who was eighty-eight years old by then and living in a retirement condo in Northfield, Minnesota. My nephew and his wife cooked dinner at their house, and two grand-nieces were there as well. The food was fine, but I remember little about it. My mother lived on until this year, and I always sent her flowers for Thanksgiving. However, I didn’t join her in Northfield for the holiday again.

"I remember mostly that my husband was not feeling well on Thanksgiving, 1999, that he left immediately after dinner to return to the motel to rest. That was very uncharacteristic of him; he was usually the life of the party. I was very worried. He seemed to feel better later, but it wasn’t long after our return home that his pancreatic cancer was diagnosed. He would die in March of the following year.

"I remember later Thanksgivings with a friend’s family, including her husband and her two daughters. That tradition, begun when Jules was still alive, ended when one of my friends’ daughters moved away and her parents began to visit her for Thanksgiving. I understood.

"This year [2007], I’ll enjoy my Lean Cuisine turkey dinner, watch parades on television, read, write, and feel content. I may even open a bottle of Chardonnay. I’ve come to terms with the changes brought by aging and the passing of time and loved ones, and it’s all right. However, I am happy to remember those Thanksgivings from the past and many more, the good and the bad. Life goes on."

Travel Tips for Senior Citizens

2009-10-28T19:46:00.004-05:00

The following guest post was contributed by Christine Howell who frequently writes about Online Health Care Degrees and college related topics for Online College Guru, an online college directory and comparison website.

Now that you have more time on your hands as you've reached the "golden years," you find that you may want to travel more so you can see the things you missed all those years while working on a career and raising the kids. Of course life has changed for you and you're not that "spring chicken" anymore, but that doesn't mean you still can't enjoy yourself. Here are a few tips to make your traveling a lot more enjoyable and secure.

Do some pre-planning before your trip:

1. Contact your travel agent about where you are thinking of going. A lot of travel agencies cater to seniors these days.

2. Make sure to find out about medical facilities in the area where you are planning to go.

3. Do research on the climate where you will be visiting.

4. If you are traveling with a wheelchair or guide dog, make sure these can be accommodated.

5. Think about purchasing travel insurance and make sure that it will cover any pre-existing illness that you might have.

When packing, keep these things in mind:

1. Make sure that your carryon bag contains everything you will need during your flight, if you are flying.

2. Always make sure that your carryon bag contains a medical kit, which should include everything from your medications to band aids.

3. Try to use suitcases that have wheels on them for an easier commute.

Traveling with a disability:

1. It might be wise to call the airports and airlines to make sure that your disability can be taken care of.

2. Make all reservations in advance to save time and hassles.

3. Book direct flights whenever possible.

4. Contact the local tourist information center at your destination to get information about their public transportation system.

5. If you are going outside of the country, make sure to find out from the embassy about any regulations there might be about wheelchairs, guide dogs and medicines.

Pre-trip medical checkups:

1. Always make sure to get a physical before leaving on a trip and ask your doctor about anything special you may need to do or know.

2. Discuss your trip plan with your doctor so they are aware of what to expect. That way they will be able to give you sound medical advice based on what information you have given them.
If you are a diabetic, it's important that you find out from your doctor how to stagger your medication in different time zones.

3. Make sure to get flu and pneumonia shots before leaving for any extended trip.

4. If you are going somewhere that is known for having a high ratio of infectious disease, make sure to be vaccinated accordingly.

When traveling with medications:

1. Make sure you discuss your medications with your doctor so you know what you should be taking.

2 Get a letter from your doctor explaining what the drugs are you are taking and why you are taking them.

3. Always leave the drugs in their original containers so as not to cause confusion and suspicion, especially to other countries.

4. If you have to inject your medication, make sure to bring plenty of syringes of your own with you and not rely on places to buy them at your destination.

Clothing while traveling:

1. Make sure that the clothing you are traveling in is loose fit and comfortable. Wearing comfortably fitting clothing allows for better blood circulation, which is important when you may be sitting for long periods of time.

2. Always avoid tight socks or stocking.

Important information you should carry with you:

1. All of your doctors' contact information.

2. Travel agent's number if you booked your trip with an agency.

3. Airline's contact number.

4. Number for the U.S. Embassy if you are traveling out of the country.

5. Emergency contact numbers.

New Hearing Aids: Will They Help?

2009-10-24T09:21:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, my new heraring aids were delivered and fitted. Unlike my old ones, which I wore on and off for about six years, these fit behind the ear, with only a little plastic tube going inside the ear.

I've learned a lot about hearing aids over the years: (1) They are expensive, and Medicare does not pay for them. (2) No hearing aid can restore absolutely normal hearing. (3) Sometimes they can be more trouble than help, especially in a place where you'd rather not hear the heating system, noisy neighbors, or other unwelcome sounds. (4) They seem to be a sign of old age; some elders reject them long after they become isolated by silence. (5) In-the-ear models like my old ones can react to heat and humidity (as mine did in Egypt) and short out. Repairs are expensive.

So why have I resolved to try again? The old aids are worn out; one worked on occasion, the other not at all. Part of it is noticing those around me at The Clare. Trying to share a table with three other hard-of-hearing resdidents becomes a comedy of errors punctuated by "What did you say? Can you speak louder?" I've found myself just nodding, as if I've heard everything. This is enough to make me even more of a loner than I am naturally.

Young people often complain about elders refusing to wear hearing aids, implying that doing so would solve all communication problems. 'Taint so. Perfect hearing is often a dream, even with the best hearing aids available. Be careful: don't attribute difficult conversations with seniors to lack of intelligence or knowledge or to crankiness. Despite hearing aids, we sometimes just can't get it, especially if you have an unfamiliar accent. Even British accents on TV seem to bother me, hearing aids or not. Be sure to speak slowly and clearly.

Anyway, I got the latest and supposedly best digital aids this time; I have several fittings to go, and I've had some uncomfortable sound feedback. So far, I do think I hear better, but I'll need to try the aids out in social situations and get more adjustments before I can make a true evaluation. In the meantime, I'm hoping to become more aware of what's going on around me. I'm hoping that cocktail parties cease to be annoying experiences. Hearing aids won't make me a social butterfly, but if I'm lucky, they'll help a bit. I certainly hope so.

There's Something About Afternoon Tea

2009-10-13T06:18:00.004-05:00

An old friend treated me to afternoon tea at the Peninsula Hotel for my birthday yesterday. Somehow, afternoon tea brings to mind hats and white gloves and society ladies wasting time on quiet afternoons, but of course things have changed.

While everyone was well, if casually, dressed on this Monday afternoon (no hats or white gloves in sight), there was still an air of elegance in the large room. Even from the second floor, the Chicago view was nice, but it doesn't equal the view from my own thirty-fifth floor apartment two blocks away.

The Peninsula is described as a "super luxury" hotel, actually quite typical of hotels in this area. I couldn't afford to stay there. Still, this little taste of luxury made me feel good. A small string emsemble played soft music from a balcony, and the service was attentive.

The food was served on the usual three-tier arrangement of plates, and it all looked very good. There were small sandwiches, mini-quiches, pastries, and of course scones with all the usual accompaniments. The tea assortment was immense, and not knowing the difference, except between black and green, I asked what the most popular green tea was. I no longer remember the name, but it was good tea.

The room was well-populated, but not crowded, and I could carry on a conversation with my friend quite easily, in spite of my hearing loss and the fact that my new hearing aids have not arrived yet. My friend has similar hearing problems, although she's more than ten years younger than I. She's still active as a teacher (at Columbia College, Chicago) and a writer. Her world is quite different than mine now, and it was interesting to reminisce.

I guess I'm quite isolated from the local social scene, so this tea was a chance to see how other people live. For one thing, they must be rich. Tea for one cost $38! I guess elegance is fine once in a while, especially since my friend paid. I've survived another birthday, and I hope I'll be mobile enough to celebrate more of them.

Another Birthday!

2009-10-12T09:34:00.003-05:00

Another Birthday! I really don't look forward to birthdays anymore, now that the number has crept up (this is my 77th). Birthdays were never very special in my family, at least until my late mother reached her nineties. Then the scattered family gathered to wish her well, at least for as long as she was in shape to appreciate our visits. We didn't celebrate her final birthday, her ninety-fifth, because she wouldn't have recognized us or appreciated the gesture. We gathered later in the year for her funeral.

As for me, I don't remember anyone making a fuss about my birthday. In later years, however, two old friends have made a point of taking me out to dinner on the occasion, one on the day and one the day before or after. I have really appreciated that. This year, one of them is taking me to the nearby Penninsula Hotel for afternoon tea; that will be a pleasant change, although it may ruin my diet. My only other planned activity is getting a seasonal flu shot here in the building.

Not being an especially friendly or social person, I've never had a large group of friends give me a surprise birthday party, and I've never expected one. My few relatives are all in other states. I'm content to be here at The Clare, alone yet not alone. My birthday somehow makes me uncomfortable (my late husband used to give me a card and take me out to dinner), but at least I'll get a chance to talk to an old friend (who lives in the suburbs, by the way). I have no complaints. I've had a couple of good wishes from Internet friends. Thank you. Let's hope that I live to celebrate more birthdays in good health!

Taking My Driving Test

2009-10-11T10:06:00.005-05:00

My birthday was fast approaching (actually, it's tommorow), and one effect of dreading the aging process seemed to be postponing renewal of my driver's license. As the deadline loomed, I began to analyze my reluctance.

Despite my accident-free record, I could not just renew via email or take the vision test and a new picture and get an extension of four more years, as usual. I had to take a driving test, which meant that I could not renew my license downtown, but had to drive to the far north side. For obvious reasons, no road tests are given in Chicago's crowded Loop.

There were other issues, too. Do I really need to own a car? It's expensive, thanks to insurance, licensing, and parking costs, and I drive as little as once a week. Am I an old and incompetent driver? I hope not. The "giving up driving" dilemma seems to hit all elders sooner or later, but I'm only turning 77! I still hope to know when it's time to give up, since I don't have a family to decide for me. Anyway, I finally decided to take the test and see what happened.

I realized that, as far as I can remember, I had only taken one road test, on the occasion of my originally getting a license. I started driving later in life than many do, but that happened in the late 1950's. No wonder I was terrified! Would I be asked to parallel park (something I've never been good at)? Would the examiner make me nervous? I approached the exam with anxiety.

The first positive thing I noticed was that senior citizens were allowed to go to the head of the line in the crowded facility where we took our vision tests. I passed that, but what I feared most was still ahead. After a fairly long wait in a line of cars, I was relieved to see a seemingly nice young woman enter my car for the test. It turned out that she was, indeed, nice and non-threatening.

The good news is that the test was easy. I'm good at using turn signals, stopping at stop signs, and observing traffic. I didn't have to parallel park. I managed to avoid the cones when I had to back up (something I don't do particulartly well). I passed, had a ridiculously bad photo taken, and soon had my new license good for four years. I was elated!

By the time my license runs out next time, I'll be over eighty (if still alive), and I may well be ready to give up driving by then. I've already vowed to make my 2003 Mini Cooper my last car. It's easy to get along without a car here in the middle of the city, but I guess I had to prove that I can still drive. I'm glad things turned out as they did.

An Afterthought to my Previous Post

2009-09-19T11:15:00.004-05:00

Lest you think that The Clare represents a racist society, I assure you that it does not. We are integrated by race, religion, ethnicity, and any other standard you can think of (except perhaps economically). I suspect that this incident has more to do with politics than with race, and as a whole, we all get along very well.

Some Uncomfortable Thoughts about Elders

2009-09-19T07:30:00.009-05:00

This is the tranquil view from my window on a recent weekend. However, I have felt less calm since I got a disturbing phone call yesterday. It seems that the son of one of my fellow residents took issue with the commentary written by one of our black residents in the September issue of our newsletter, The Clarion, and wrote an angry letter to The Clare's acting Executive Director.

In my view, the commentary was liberal but inoffensive, and it was accompanied by an invitation to submit opposing views; still, the letter writer stated that he didn't want to find this newsletter at his mother's or father's door again. That's all right with me, but I was led to some uncomfortable thoughts. Assuming that this complaint originated with a resident rather than his or her son, have elders become so set in their ways that they cannot abide controversy? Can't they accept opposing views, or anything they don't agree with? Whatever happened to our democratic urge to fire off letters to the editors when we want to criticize something? Do we have at least one closet racist, or at best an arch conservative, in our midst?

I was reminded of TV images of seniors protesting imaginary "death squads" in the health care debate and those praising Medicare while objecting to all government involvement. Whatever happened to logic and fairness? While I have found Clare residents to be generally intelligent and fair-minded, I was caught off guard by that letter. How I wish that the resident involved would identify himself or herself to me and/or write a scathing criticism of the article.

I am a supporter of freedom of the press, including senior newsletters, and this incident, plus the earlier censorship fiasco, made me wonder if we elders are supposed to be sheeplike followers of whatever is the majority position or the senior residence management's view? Without free speech and a free press, life is not worth living, and that is true for elders as much as it is for the young. Let's have intelligent controversy involving logic rather than anger! As long as we have the ability to think, let's do so, and let no young people be surprised to discover disagreements among seniors. Assuming that we all are --or should be-- alike is very dangerous.

NFPW Conference Photos

2009-09-16T06:39:00.008-05:00

The Illinois Contingent at the Awards Ceremony (left) and the Communicator of Achievement Banquet.

Reflections on the NFPW Conference, September 10-12

2009-09-15T10:15:00.004-05:00

This year's conference of the National Federation of Press Women was held in San Antonio, Texas, this year. This is the second national conference of the group that I have attended (the other was in 2007), and I basically enjoyed the experience. However, I was reminded that traveling is tough for us elders. Here are a few observations (not really meant to be complaints).

1. Must the airport experience be so difficult? I understand about security, but the time it takes to personally examine my whole body with a wand because my two knee replacements set off the alarm seems a bit unnecessary. I certainly can't look like a dangerous terrorist, especially at my age. This process may deter me from flying again for a while.

Then there is the long walk from terminal to gate. Of course I'm old enough, though not visibly impaired, to request a wheelchair, and I often did so before my knee operations. Now I consider myself reasonably healthy and fit, but that walk is a real challenge. Whatever happened to those carts that used to ply the aisles to transport anyone who requested a ride? I only saw one, and it was marked for special VIPs, some of whom looked young and vigorous when they passed me. Can't we older commoners have some help? I've discovered that brisk walking for long distances makes me short of breath and in need of a seat, and often there is no place to sit until I reach my gate, or the baggage claim area when I arrive.

What's with the baggage fees? This is my first time having to take out a credit card once each way to pay $15 to transport my small bag. Many carry similar bags aboard, but I'm not strong enough to do that. And the size and number of bags carried onto a full plane are mind-boggling. There have always been too many carry-ons, but the charges seem to encourage virtually everyone to carry on as much as possible. The loading and unloading of those overhead bins is quite a process; one seems to risk life and limb avoiding having a large bag fall on one's head.

2. We stayed in a nice enough hotel, but I was not especially comfortable. For one thing, the shower was in a slippery bathtub without grab bars, and I did not dare take a shower. One slip (and I'm not very sure-footed) could have disabled me for the rest of my life. I had to make do with what my mother used to call "sponge baths," so I hope I didn't have B.O.

Most of the lamps in the room apparently had burned-out bulbs or other problems. Since there was one good working lamp for reading, as well as a ceiling light, I didn't register any complaints. Actually, the most annoying feature of the place was the toilet. I'd always thought that all toilets are pretty much alike, but then I had my knee replacements. My condo toilets were both rather low, so I had to buy a raised seat. Those here at The Clare are of more reasonable height, and they've given me no trouble. Those at the San Antonio hotel hit a new low. They were too low for all but the smallest child. Getting both down and up provided me with real challenges, and when possible, I used the handicapped stalls in pubic restrooms (not very useful in the middle of the night). What was this hotel thinking? I've never seen such low toilets anywhere outside a child care center. Apparently all the rooms were so-equipped.

All this made me ponder, as usual, the "joys" of growing old. Do I really need to request airport wheelchairs and handicap-accessible rooms when I travel? Or should I just quit traveling altogether? I don't think of myself as a fragile old lady, but this trip make me wonder. It's nice to be back home!

(As I said, I did enjoy the conference, although I ate too much. See my other blog, "Write Your Life!" for an account of my awards.)

The Answer is Yes!

2009-09-03T06:32:00.002-05:00

A while ago I wrote, "Are we seniors getting too comfortable?" You may have noticed that it's been a long time since that last post. Yes, the problem is laziness or inertia. I've certainly had time to add posts here, but it's so easy to relax at The Clare. Even though I don't participate in all of the activities offered, I do venture out from time to time. However, I love to read, work puzzles, watch the Cubs games on TV, and just enjoy the lake view.

That said, I want to mention that I actually completed the summer fitness challenge, or so the fitness director says, even though my visits to the fitness center with its machines have been few and far between. What I have been doing is going to the morning exercise class three times a week without fail. That amazes me, since I've never been a fitness buff, or been fit, for that matter. To drag my overweight body to the class is hard, but I'm glad I've done it. Our fitness director, Jan, is great. She knows she is dealing with old people, so she's very understanding. I haven't been able to raise my right arm since an accident in 1942, and I'll never be able to. Jan understands, and lets me adopt the exercises to what I can do. Of course a lot of my peers are far more agile and athletic than I, but no one criticizes. I'd be lost in a class of young, toned bodies, but here it's different.

So what else is happening at The Clare? The Clarion, the residents' newsletter I edit, is going well, thanks to a willing and able staff of about seven. We meet once a month to discuss the contents, and I think The Clarion is getting better and better.

Catastrophe has struck, too. About two weeks ago, a gasket broke in the ceiling over the lounge, sending hot water cascading down. The devastation was huge; the water not only ruined the piano beneath the leak, but ran down a floor to destroy some offices and even down manuy fioors to flood the mail room. What a mess! We have been living with scaffolding and other equipment, but it's being handled well, with interruptions kept to a minimum. I hear the good news is that all this is covered by insurance. I certainly hope so!

I'll try to get back here more often. I'm going to the National Federation of Press Women's conference in San Antonio next week, so that should give me something to write about. Who knows what else will happen in this relatively uneventful, comfortable life? I'll try to avoid getting too comfortable again.

Do We Seniors Get Too Comfortable?

2009-08-09T06:42:00.006-05:00

A comment on my previous post started me thinking. Sadie, of "Musings, Meanderings & More," wrote:

"For a while I worked as a waitress in a senior citizens facility. Although I really enjoyed working there, at times I became a bit overwhelmed with the reality of aging. While there, I noticed that too many of the residents became to comfortable with their surroundings and all the conviences that came along with living within one of those communities. They stopped planning and left everything up to managerment. Take that trip and any other that you can squeeze into your budget. And never stop planning...don't nix something that's free and fun, and can easily be trashed and started again from scratch. Stepping outside of the box will do you a world of good..."

Yes, I've noticed how easy it is to relax and do nothing, and some of that is good. However, I've observed that life is so good here at The Clare that it's easy to lie back in one's recliner, enjoy the gourmet meals, and gain weight. I've heard a few compaints on the same subject from other residents. Yes, we have a fitness program, exercise classes of all types, and almost any sort of activity imaginable. We have bicyclists, long-distance walkers, and a champion swimmer among us. No one forces us to eat three large meals a day, including desserts. I still suspect that the majority of residents are doing less than they're capable of.

The time will probably come for most of us that we will need assisted living and/or nursing care; that's time enough to forgo activity. Even at those levels, we can keep our minds active, if not our bodies.

So this easy life has its drawbacks. That's why I have changed my eating habits and resolved to become more active. I'll accept those conference invitations and keep going as long as possible. There's such a thing as relaxing too much, especially at a place like The Clare.

When is it too Late to Plan Ahead?

2009-08-01T08:42:00.005-05:00

During her later years, my late mother (she lived to age 95) often quoted one of her fellow elders: "I don't even buy green bananas." The point was, don't plan too far ahead. I always laughed at that, but now that I'm almost 77 and living in a senior residence, the quotation has more meaning.

When one is young, the future seems to stretch far ahead, offering endless opportunities. Sometime around 70, at least for me, the vista changed. I'm now reluctant to plan too far ahead. With no job and few responsibilities, it's easy to become recliner-bound and oblivious to all the opportunities that surround me. Two recent emails made me think again of the "green bananas."

First I heard from an officer of the Illinois Woman's Press Association, a group of which I am a member. She asked me what I could contribute to the National Federation of Press Women's national conference, to be held in Chicago in August, 2010. I can't help with media contacts (I have none), and assignments that require extensive walking or standing are out, too. I finally agreed to host and introduce a speaker (as yet unknown). Somehow, this event seemed so far away. Unconsciously, I wondered how I'd feel by then. Why? I have no known serious health problems except the usual age-related ones, but I guess I've already seen too much physical decline among my fellow residents to be confident about my future. On the otherr hand, the 101-year-old resident looks great, in spite of being tethered to an oxygen tank. Anyway, I now have an August engagement to put on my 2010 calendar--when I get one.

The other email was more surprising. As I mentioned, this blog was featured in the Story Circle Network newsletter recently, and is now one of six (thus far) member "Star Blogs." The author of the email asked whether I intended to attend the organization's conference in Austin, Texas, next Februry to participate in a panel on blogging. Well, Texas is far away, and I'm going to San Antonio for this year's NFPW conference in September, so I hadn't considered another Texas trip so soon. I'm not that fond of Texas. Besides, these conferences are expensiuve when one adds up the registration fees. airfare, and hotel costs. I tentatively nixed the idea. But then I began to think (I have plenty of time for that these days). Texas is certain to be warmer than Chicago in February, and I have no other cold weather plans. Why not go?

There was a time when I welcomed opportunities such as these enthusiastically, perhaps dreaming of fame and fortune. Money was no object, at least in my working years. Things are different now: fame and fortune have eluded me, and I've grown old. But as long as my mind lasts, why not enjoy such opportunities? My newly-resurrected motto has become Carpe Diem (seize the moment). I don't know for how long I can do so, but full speed ahead! I buy green bananas, too.

Are Seniors Ready to be Plugged In?

2009-07-28T14:33:00.005-05:00

You've probably noticed that many people are "plugged in" to their IPods, cellular phones, or other communication and entertainment devices. You've probaly also noticed that these people are generally younger; seniors seem more likely to have hearing aids in their ears than ear bud speakers.

Now a company called LinkedSenior has come along to get us all connected. I've never seen the devices, but apparently the idea is to provide Linked Senior Players to residents of senior residences, where they can then connect to a central kiosk to download music, audio books, talk shows, cooking lessons, and/or anything else we might want to listen to. Here is the basic product information:

"The player: The Linked Senior Player is simple and straightforward to operate; it has five large tactile pushbuttons and provides excellent sound quality.

"The station: The Linked Senior Kiosk is designed with ease-of-use for older adults in mind. Its operating system and its peripheral equipment have been carefully tailored to meet the needs of older adults.

"The content: The current selection contains about 63,000 audio pieces and is continuously updated with audio books, talk shows, radio shows, music, audio emails, news, cooking lessons, games and more. "

The mission of Linked Senior is as follows:

"Linked Senior was founded with the goal of creating a world in which the life in senior communities is enhanced through better access to entertainment. This new service revolutionizes how the 60+ spend their time and helps facilities provide quality activities to their residents. By opening up their everyday settings to the world and fostering social communities, Linked Senior provides seniors a mean to stay active and connected."

I'm sure that the developers of these devices are serious about offering entertainment for seniors (as well as serious about making money), but I have my doubts about the success of this project. Perhaps the idea of special services for seniors still distresses me a bit, a carry-over from the time I refused to consider myself old. I'm sure the developers are younger people. Are they right in seeing a need for such a service?

I have my doubts. Speaking only for myself, I can say that I have no desire to shut out the world to listen to "canned" music or whatever, at least as long as I can listen to recordings and read real books. I'm reminded of those science fiction ear radio devices designed to keep the population from thinking. See Vonnegut's "Harrison Bergeron" and Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. We already have high definition TV, AM/FM radio, CD and DVD players, and 24-hour programming everywhere, not to mention films in theaters and on rentable DVD's.

I may be old-fashioned, but I can keep very busy reading, writing, thinking, and even watching TV. Perhaps the Baby Boomer generation has grown up in a world of personal electronic devices and will be ready to embrace the Linked Senior system when their time comes, but for those of us who grew up in a different era, I don't see the value of such a system. (And won't those Boomers have their own computers and listening devices to bring with them into retirement?)

What do you think?

For more information, go to http://www.linkedsenior.com/.
For a press release, go to http://www.prlog.org/10277516-entertainment-for-senior-communities-retirement-communities.html

Censorship Rears its Ugly Head

2009-07-18T06:50:00.005-05:00

I nearly resigned from my unpaid job as editor of the resident newsletter at The Clare. Why? That old bugaboo, censorship. I finallly decided that it was just the nature of the place I live, or Catholic tradition, or narrow-mindedness, so after I cooled down, I changed my mind. I guess my initial reaction was dictated not by the minor incident itself, but by the fact that the changes (which I didn't make myself) destroyed the spacing of the whole newsletter, leaving some confusing juxtapositions in a few articles.

So what happened? A resident submitted a little short-short story involving a seedy character who used two "bad" words. I don't use or recommend profanity, but I've always thought that it sometimes deserves a place in fiction, within moderation. Seedy characters don't talk like college professors. As a matter of fact, Illinois' former governor illustrated on wiretaps that even public officials--and their wives--sometimes use filthy language, far worse that what was involved here. I've always been against censorship in fiction, ever since I read about the Huckleberry Finn case. I couldn't believe that a book I consider one of the best was taken from library shelves.

Anyway, the present case involved only two words, used one time each. One was indeed offensive, although I think it has lost its original meaning to become just a very negative insult. The other word was so common that I never suspected it would offend anyone. It was just a common word for excrement. Would a killer call anyone a "piece of excrement"? I doubt that he would.

I argued a bit with the building staff (responsible for printing the newsletter), but to no avail. It wasn't a great story anyway, but I believe in residents' right to free speech. What are those in charge trying to protect us from, anyway? I'd never print a profanity-filled story, but two words used in an appropriate fictional context? Come on! Lighten up! We may be old, but we're still able to think for ourselves.

4th of July Nostalgia:

2009-07-04T05:53:00.004-05:00

I first wrote this in 2007, and I repeated it last year. However, since it is my definitive memory of the holiday, it seems worth repeating again.

Parade Memories and July 4th at Grandma's

My paternal grandmother lived in town, and that was exciting to me as a child. I grew up on a farm with visions of big-city skylines in my head; Whitewater, Wisconsin, did not qualify, but I considered it a step in the right direction.The excitement there was the 4th of July parade.

As I remember, it began on Main Street and turned down North Franklin street to the city park. Grandma lived on North Franklin Street. I remember the joy of swinging back and forth on Grandma's front porch glider and admiring the passing bands and floats and marchers, feeling patriotic, and always munching on some snacks that my plump body surely didn't need.

As I look back, I realize that it wasn't much of a parade by today's standards. The "floats" began as farm wagons, trucks, cars, and even children's wagons, and the bands sometimes played out of tune. Still, the parade spirit was there. I loved the flags and the excitement.

As I recall, I've participated in only three or four parades during my lifetime. In those days on Grandma's porch, I dreamed of parading as an honored celebrity or Grand Marshal, but of course it never happened. In Whitewater, I wore an ill-fitting purple band uniform, played my clarinet, and marched with our fledgling high school marching band once or twice. Ours was the smaller of the town's two high schools, and as I remember, the larger one had a bigger, better band. I once rode on a farm wagon-based float that proclaimed "Education Reflects the Spirit of Liberty" on the side and featured an old-fashioned mirrored "crystal ball," dance hall style, in the center.

At Luther College, I remember riding on a homecoming parade float in a fancy new yellow gown. It rained that day, and what I remember best is that the dress was ruined by run-off from the blue crepe paper decorating the float. My parents were in the crowd to observe this spectacle. I can't remember either the theme of the float or the sponsoring organization, but it may have been either the drama group or the literary society.

Today, I enjoy parades vicariously on TV. I admire the flowers and the beauty of the Rose Bowl Parade floats, the hype and variety of the New York Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, and the marching politicians, commercialism, and enthusiasm of Chicago's many big parades. Still, no parade quite provides the excitement of being "downtown" on Grandma's small-town front porch, swinging back and forth and eating. That experience was a generator of big dreams.

Another Point of View on Places for Seniors to Live

2009-06-30T06:39:00.009-05:00

In response to my previous post, my brother, John Marshall, of Hurricane, Utah, asked for equal time to present his contrasting point of view. Isn't it funny how senior siblings brought up together can end up with such opposing views? Here is his statement from his yearly calendars:

"In the interest of fairness to those of us that appreciate small town America! Why Hurricane, Utah?

"Several years ago, when I first moved to Hurricane, my sister, a long-time Chicago resident, sent me and EMAIL in which she gently chastised me for hating civilization; she referred to me as a “rural hermit” intent on escaping from society. My response to her, which follows in edited form, explains, at least to me, why I am here. The following was first written in December of 2000 and it remains an essentially accurate description of my feelings about where I live and why I live here. Regrettably, “progress” is beginning to take its toll and the area is expanding recklessly; Hurricane, UT has been “discovered” and is the fastest growing city in Southern Utah; paradise lost?

"Lebensraum in Utah

There are many things that caused me to “escape” and become a “rural hermit” in Hurricane, Utah. Biologists have long known what will happen when you crowd a mammalian population into too small a space. For example, when over-crowded a significant fraction of an arctic lemming* population will run to the sea and drown themselves. However, their noble and selfless approach to maintaining the social order is virtually unknown in mammalian populations higher up the evolutionary ladder. Normally what happens is both violent and chaotic. The human approach, as we are the most intellectual of the mammals, is the most horrible of all. Hitler articulated the crowding problem when he spoke euphemistically of “lebensraum,” or room to live. History has recorded his quest for lebensraum, and it serves as a horrific example of just how far this quest for space can drive an otherwise sane and compassionate people.

"Primarily because of crowding, the major urban areas in America have become virtual battle zones, filled with directed and undirected anger. This contributes to a mentality of violence on a national scale and war on an international scale. To me such environments are not pleasant places to be, so I chose not to be there. In Hurricane, UT, specifically, and in the rural southwest in general, there is very little of the endemic angst so pervasive in the crowded urban centers. Here, you are trusted until you prove that you cannot be trusted; people wonder what they can do for you, not to you. People want to know how they can help you, not how they can use you. There is relatively little crime; there is no place in Hurricane or the surrounding area that I would fear to go at any time of day or night.

"So, while problems with pollution, both human and industrial, and heavy traffic, both human and vehicular, are factors in my dislike of urban areas, the main factor is the general quality of the social order. And, the quality of the social order depends on the quality, integrity and mood of the people with whom you live. For me and my house, I choose Hurricane, UT.

*Footnote:
Lemmings are small rodents, usually less than 5 inches long and weighing only 5 or 6 ounces. There are many known species, some living in the United States. However, the collared or arctic lemming of Scandinavia exhibits the behavior described. While the sacrificial lemming migration to the sea seems a noble and selfless solution to overcrowding, the real truth is not so noble. When an arctic lemming population gets too large for the local food supply, they migrate aimlessly, eating everything in their path. As they migrate, they swim rivers and lakes in their relentless quest for food. Eventually, as they live on a peninsula, many of them reach the ocean. They do not realize that swimming to the other side is impossible, nor are they smart enough to return to shore when they discover that.Finally, while the lemming behavior may not be as altruistic as it would at first appear, it is universally true that crowding in mammalian populations leads to irrational, antisocial and destructive behavior. For example, contemplate what happens when vast numbers of your relatives come for a visit for the holidays, and stay too long."

Photo: My brother's home, sweet home (on right). John Marshall photo.

In Defense of City Living

2009-06-27T09:02:00.008-05:00

This photo was taken on the ninth floor terrace of The Clare. Yes, we have flowers, and some residents even helped John, the gardener, plant them. I offer this photo as evidence that living in a big-city highrise does not require divorce from the beauties of nature.

Then there's Lake Michigan; I enjoy seeing white sailboats in brilliant blue water from every window, but especially from my living room, which faces east. The sunrise is lovely there too, especially in winter. At any time of year, I'm likely to see skies gradually turn pink or red in the early morning hours.

There are several small parks nearby, with benches for observing nature, human and otherwise. For walkers, the lakefront and Lincoln Park are within reach. For bicyclists there are the lakefront bike paths. The planters in the Michigan Avenue median are filled with seasonal flowers from spring through fall; the tulips there are often early signs of spring, marking the end of the cold season. I realize that some of you southerners are eager to avoid snow and cold, but for me, the changing seaasons are a delight. Summer and fall in Chicago are wonderful times.

Of course, especially for elders, convenience is everything. Every kind of store, restaurant, cultural institution, and entertainment venue is close by, and cabs and busses are everywhere when walking is not convenient or possible. I've admitted before that I grew up on a farm near a small town, but I dreamed of big-city skyscrapers and far-away places as soon as I was able to read. I respect everyone's right to prefer other environments, but please keep your minds--and your options--open. Of course city living is expensive, and big cities have problems. However, for me, Chicago is fascinating.

Another Honor for this Blog!

2009-06-23T09:49:00.005-05:00

I just discovered that the Story Circle Network featured this blog in its July National e-Letter. Here is the article:

"Marlys' award-winning blog is titled "Never too Late! In the very beginning, she makes her intention plain with a quotation from George Eliot: 'It is never too late to be who you might have been.' In every blog post, Marlys opens up another angle of vision on "never too late." She retired from college teaching in 1999, began serious writing in 2005 (at age 73), and published her first book not long after. Five months ago, she moved to a high-rise retirement community, where she immediately started a resident newsletter (of course!) Marlys continues to write, win recognition for her work, and keep her commitment to the blog world, documenting her progress through the years and giving us all a wonderful lesson in how to age consciously and deliberately. Thanks, Marlys, for your gifts to us!"

Check out Story Circle Network at www.storycircle.org.

Elder Images

2009-06-12T06:11:00.006-05:00

I've seen two newspaper references to elders recently. Of course we're all concerned about how older people are thought of and treated by society as a whole, but these cases seem to shift the emphasis straight back to our own behavior.

Of course you were shocked by the story of the 80-something white supremacist shooting up the Washington Holocaust Museum. And obviously the problem there was the man himself, not the way society views him. Anyone, regardless of age, who acts as he did, resulting in the death of an innocent person, deserves condemnation.

A more problematical story involved the 70-something woman who was stopped for a traffic violation, resisted the officer, and was felled by a taser gun. Of course it isn't nice to be treated that way, but what about the woman's actions? Apparently she refused to listen to instructions, and threatened to drive away.

I know that if I were stopped by a policeman, I would follow his directions faithfully. If he's wrong, I can fight the ticket in court or file a law suit. However, as many gun-weilding gang members have discovered, it's dangerous to fight back against an armed officer. What was that woman thinking?

I don't believe that old age is an excuse to defy the rules of society in dangerous situations. Peaceful protest can be all right, but these stories suggest that some elders are creating their own bad images. We elders may be special people who deserve care and compassion, but that doesn't excuse us from social responsibility. We don't want people to think that all or most old people are cranky, defiant, and/or dangerous.

Life Goes on at The Clare

2009-06-08T08:12:00.006-05:00

People keep asking me how I like living at The Clare. My answer is always "I like it," and I do. Still, it's taking me a very long time to adjust (five months so far). There's something about moving to a lifetime care building that seems so final! Then, I am still trying to recover financially from the reduced price I received for my condo.

What's good? The food. I am not and never was a cook, so it's nice to know that three meals a day are available here (although our monthly fee covers only one full meal--I usually work in breakfast and lunch).

We have a Town Car and driver to take us places, but I've used it only twice. It seems luxurious, though. We have a great location; If I could walk better, I could walk almost anywhere I want to go. As it is, I sometimes relax too much and stay indoors, especially if the weather is dreary (which it is today).

We have seemingly endless activities available. I am still exercising three times a week, still at the beginners' level, but those exercise classes do keep me from being a total couch potato. We have excercise machines too; I sometimes use the cross trainer and the stationary bicycle. I haven't joined the book club yet, since I have so many unread books piled up to read (and sometimes review). I have plenty of time for reading, but I waste too much time on puzzles and magazines and TV. Bridge and gardening and several other activities don't interest me, but it's nice to know they're available.

My favorite activity is The Clarion, the resident newsletter I started. I have help from a starff of five or six, and I really enjoy the process of creating the newsletter each month. I'm still trying to get residents to contribute more. Why are people so afraid of writing? This is a building full of MDs and PhDs, so I am sure I'm not the only writer here.

The included one-a-week cleaning service is nice, although I no longer get my microwave oven cleaned, as I did when I hired my own service. I'll have to get out of my recliner and clean it myself soon. Package delivery is prompt and courteous. Mail and newspaper delivery are efficient. TV reception on my new HDTV is great.

I participated in the Printers Row Lit Fest (formerly the Printers Row Book Fair) on Saturday. It was nice to have Bob, the doorman, get a cab for me. I enjoy these fairs, even though I don't sell many books. The main problems this year were cold and rain. I left a bit early.

There's no way to escape aging, but a place like this gives a somewhat unwelcome look at the realities of growing old. The number of broken bones from falls, the number of hospitalizations for one thing or another, the number of knee replacement operations scheduled, the problems of healthier partners faced with the care of ailing spouses, the number of hearing problems (I have one myself) all give me cause for concern. On the one hand, it's good to know that nearby care and sympathy are available, but who wants to be reminded of all these realities? Fortunately, I've never been a head-in-the-sand person. As a realist, I believe I'm in the right place at the right time. Who knows what the future brings?

It seems to me that a lifetime care community is a good choice for someone like me, over 70 and childless. The luxurious Clare is hard for me to afford, but since I can't get my youth back, I'm happy here. Will I be so happy if and when I need to move to assisted living or nursing care? For now, I'll just enjoy independent living and my beautiful lake view and hope for the best.

Chicago Tribune photo.

Honors and Awards--Again!

2009-05-17T06:43:00.008-05:00

Spring seems to be honors and awards time for many organizaations, associations, and volunteer groups. At least four of us here at The Clare have received awards this spring, and there may be more.

This year, I was again surprised and honored to receive awards in the Illinois Woman's Press Association's Mate E. Palmer Communications Contest. Multiple awards were presented at a luncheon yesterday at the Union League Club. I had been notified that I was a winner, but I was expecting not much more than honorable mention this year; I did less writing than usual in 2008.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive two firsts and one second on my three entrees. Lightening struck a third time when my third book, Elder Expectations: My Life in Rictameters won first in the "Creative Verse: Book or Chapbook of Poetry" category. The other two won firsts in other categories in 2007 and 2008. So now I'm not only a writer; I'm a poet! Now if the literary world would only take note. This book has sold even less well than Reinventing Myself and Seniorwriting. I know of only one person outside my family who has read all three of my books: The Clare's Dining Room Manager. Thanks, Carl. I'm glad I donated a copy of each book to The Clare Library.

Here are the anonymous judge's comments:

"Poet Styne ably summarizes the strengths and joys of her work in the final poem of the tome. Lovely!" (I'm not sure that a 50-some page book qualifies as a tome, but then I am a woman of few words.)

Of course you're not likely to have read or remembered that final poem, so here it is:

My Rictameters

Great art?
No, not these poems
Of mine, and yet if they
Just make you ponder, wonder, think
Or dream, consider your own life or write
A story, draw or paint the truth,
Learn who or what you are,
These poems inspire
Great art.

My other first place award was for "In Defense of Self-Publishing"--Parts I & II" published in my other blog, "Write Your Life!" The category was "Writing for the Web: For Hobby or Special Interest Sites."

The comments on this:

"The author uses the platform well to successfully create an easy-to-read explanation of self-publishing. With clear and focused writing the author put forth good effort in content styling for emphasis, scannability for reading and linking to provide context and additional resources. Excellent potential for more interacftivity through chats or issue focused discussions boards."

You can find these entries here:

http://seniormemoirs.blogspot.com/2008/08/priorities-choices-and-opportunities-in.html
http://seniormemoirs.blogspot.com/2008/08/matter-of-choices-in-defense-of-self.html

Finally, my second place award was for two book reviews here on "Never too Late!": "Aging, Life, and Death: A Book Review" (on Where River Turns to Sky, by Gregg Kleiner (Avon 1996; Perennial paperback 2002) and "Realities of Alzheimer's: A Book Review" (on Measure of the Heart: a Father's Alzheimer's, a Daughter's Return, by Mary Ellen Geist (Springboard 2008). Find these reviews by clicking on the "Book Reviews" label toward the bottom of the sidebar. The category was "Writing for the Web: Commentary (reviews)."

These may be small-time awards, but they make me feel good. Never underestimate the power of honors and awards to make people--especially elders--feel appreciated.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Success! The Clarion has Been Published

2009-05-15T14:18:00.003-05:00

I wrote earlier about my efforts to begin a residents' newsletter here at The Clare. I'm happy to report that the first issue of The Clarion has come out to raves from residents and staff alike. I received an ovation from the exercise class and congratulations from nearly everyone, including the doorman and the desk clerk. I have a new feeling of elation!

So how did it turn out? There are five pages; participation is limited thus far, so there's too much about me in this issue, but people are now interested. This issue features a short article on moving to The Clare, a report from the chair of the Dining Committee, and introductions to five resident artists and their works, from sculpture to drawing to embroidery. The resident interview is my own self-interview (no others were available yet), and four residents receiving honors and awards from various organizations this spring were mentioned. I even promoted the June 6-7 Printers Row Lit Fest (formerly Printers Row Book Fair).

So far, I have found an art editor and seven interested participants, although not all have had time to contribute yet. I'm planning a staff meeting on June 2 for the June 15 issue. I'm optimistic about the future of The Clarion; I almost feel like I have a job again, and I love it!

Please listen, Oprah!

2009-05-07T07:09:00.004-05:00

Ronni Bennett, of Time Goes By (http://www.timegoesby.net/) has taken the great Oprah Winfrey to task for her emphasis on youth and staying young. Bennett features a video by geriatrician Dr. Bill Thomas appealing for fairer medfia treatment of the aged. She suggests that Dr. Thomas should appear on the Oprah show, and I second the motion. Check out Bennett's post and the video at http://www.timegoesby.net/weblog/2009/05/hello-oprah-an-elder-advocates-appeal.html.

My New TV

2009-05-06T06:19:00.002-05:00

I got a new TV set this week. I'm still old enough to remember a world without tv, and then the tiny round screens, all the way up to the monster sets that extended backwards and took up a lot of room.

I've lived through the old console sets, the black-and-white pictures, and the flickering screens, not to mention the age of huge entertainment centers, one of which I donated to charity when I moved this year. I've never been one to demand the newest and best, but with encouragement from my brother, I decided it was time for a new flat screen model (since he doesn't have one yet, I questioned his motives; he doesn't live close enough to enjoy my TV.) Anyway, he visited last weekend, and we went to a giant electronics store.

I don't think I'd ever taken HDTV seriously; I seldom visit electronics stores, and my gigantic eight-year-old Sony provided a great picture. However, the minute I reached the TV section of the store, I was hooked. There's something about those HD pictures that is amazing. My resolve to buy a smaller set disappeared quickly; the salesman and my brother insisted that nothing less than a 40-inch set was worth buying. I know better, but I'm weak.

Unfortunately, I'm not rich, especially these days. But with the magic of a credit card, I became the proud new owner of a Sony Bravia 40-inch set and a new HD cable box--the store had a representative from Comcast on the premises, and she arranged it all. Of course my monthly bill increases, too.

I don't know what lessons I learned from this experience. Perhaps I'm weak; I'm not usually a big spender or a demander of the newest and best. Maybe it's this old age thing; my attitude seems to be changing from "I don't need it" to "Why not?" I'll have to fight this attitude. At least I have a beautifal picture of life rolling out before my eyes, and I've done my part to jump-start the U.S. economy. If you haven't checked out HDTV yet, be careful; you may be hooked as I was. Not that I'm complaining, at least not until my credit card bill arrives.

Thanks for the Newsletter Advice

2009-05-05T09:27:00.005-05:00

I want to thank everyone who responded to my request for help as I begin the new Clare newsletter. Fortunately, I soon found Microsoft's Newsletter Wizard, which seems to be fairly easy to use, as a softwaare base for the project.

I want to comment on Steve Gurney's comment. Here it is, in case you haven't read it:

"You do a fantastic "newsletter" with this blog! I would recommend that you follow a similar model for The Clare. If you feel like you really need something in "print," simply print and copy a 1 page summary of the elements that can be distributed in everyone's mailbox much less expensively that will drive them to the site. If residents don't have a computer, they can gain access on the computer in the common area which I hope The Clare has. This is the model that our nations newspapers are following to reinvent themselves, don't revert back to 'old media'."

Thanks, Steve, but The Clare has had a residents' web site for quite a while, and it is largely ignored. Mine (a different one) is the only blog there, and the number of computer users seems small, despite training sessions. Yes, there are computers for public use here. I realize that seniors are becoming increasingly computer literate, and I'm certainly in favor of that, but so far, the Clare group has been resistent. Perhaps I can use a print newsletter to encourage more computer use.

When I stop to think about it, I realize that computers are still foreign objects to many of the older residents of The Clare (the oldest resident is 101, by the way). Many retired before computers gained popularity, and of course none of us grew up with computers. As a person who embraces computers, but still likes to read a printed daily newspaper, I am willing to rely on "old media" for a while. It seems the only way to reach an audience right now. I see Steve's point, but I'm a realist.

The first issue of The Clarion (that's the name for now) should come out in mid-May. I'm hoping that the first issue will inspire more people to join me; so far, the staff is small. I'll report on the results soon.

Senior Newsletter: Any Advice?

2009-04-26T06:19:00.002-05:00

I have taken on the dauntng task of establishing a residents' newsletter for our community at The Clare. Does anyone have any experience and/or advice on forming a staff, contents, format, computer software to use, etc?

I'd be happy to see samples of successful publications, too. I have some experience in desktop publishng, but is it enough? I want to keep it simple and manageable.

Learning About Elders

2009-04-24T10:46:00.003-05:00

I just attended a meeting of my fellow residents to announce staffing changes and other matters at The Clare. The meeting turneed into a complaint session. I kept my mouth shut, but I had plenty of time to assess my fellow elders. Here are a few conclusions:

1. This group is, in general, articulate and well educated, as well a affluent. (I'm probably one of the least affluent residents).

2. Seniors love to talk--loudly. Loud talk is good for those of us, including me, with hearing loss. But many tend to repeat themselves too often.

3. As with people of all ages all over, there are few agreements on anything among this group, despite the age similarities.

4. Moving into this building has marked a major turning point for everyone, and most of us are a bit uneasy about how everything will turn out. Will the assisted living and nursing facilities ever open? If so, and if we need such help, will it be available for everyone (the independent living apartments far outnumber the assisted living units).

5. Everyone feels that communication is lacking here. I feel that it's not been bad, considering the newness of the place.

6. There are too many pessimists here; I prefer to look on the brighter side. Some seem to believe that the emphasis will shift too far toward assisted living and nursing care.

7. Specific complaints: lack of shower grab bars (I have them) and long waits for food at dinner (I seldom eat dinner here). These seem to be valid complaints, but there were few of them. Most of what I heard seemed to be theories that the sky was falling in some way.

8. Dealing with a group of independent old people who are accustomed to the best must be very difficult. Personally, I enjoy living here.

9. I'm trying to establish a residents' newsletter. I think that should be a wonderful way to let people express their opinions. I hope they are willing to put them in writing.

10. My advice is to give the new management a chance.

When Do the Positive Financial Reports Begin Again?

2009-04-14T11:50:00.004-05:00

I made the mistake a day or so ago of opening and reading one of my quarterly mutual fund statements. I had made no additions or withdrawals, but the ending value had decreased by nearly $9,000. How's that for bad news for 2009? This news comes from a respected company I won't name here, and I expect a couple of others from another company.

I'm not much of an investor, and these funds do not contain my entire "fortune." However, it's distressing to wonder if such losses will continue. Should I have bailed out long ago? It seems a bit late to do so now. The fatalist in me believes that I should leave things as they are and hope for eventual recovery. If the stock market recovers while I'm still alive, I'll be able to profit. If not, it will be intereseting to see how low my balance can go.

I always laughed at my mother's conservative financial habits. Her only investments were insured bank CD's and a couple of small, paid up life insurance policies. Still, she managed to live to the age of 95 with a little money left over. Will I be as fortunate?

Breakfast Follies

2009-04-10T10:12:00.005-05:00

I've always realized that no stereotypical picture of senior citizens fits all of us, but I'm not sure I was aware of how far out of the main stream I am when it comes to breakfast. Since I moved into The Clare about three months ago, we have had free continental breakfast in the lounge and cooked breakfasts in the adjoining dining room (part of our food allowance). The former offered a sweet roll, orange juice, and coffee, as well as fresh fruit. The latter offered bacon and eggs, ham and eggs, omelets, oatmeal, and other common breakfast goodies, as well as juice, coffee, fruit, and pretty much everything found on the usual breakfast menu.

My favorite has been the "healthy choice breakfast" in the dining room: an egg white omelet with vegetables, orange juice, whole wheat toast, and coffee--no potaatoes. I often took a piece of fruit back to my apartment, too. I've also had bacon and eggs on occasion, as well as oatmeal with raisins. The only problem is that traffic in the dining room early in the morning is nearly non-existent. The lounge was sometimes crowded; it seemed to attract far more residents than the dining room.

Ever experimenting, the Clare staff has changed the breakfast routine. First, the continental breakfast was served buffet-style at the end of the dining room and carried into the lounge. Now the continental breakfast is served in the Bistro, the casual restaurant eight floors down. A few other things are offered (for a price), but the fruit has disappeared--too expensive, they say. How does this affect me? Well, this morning I was the only one in the dining room. It's obvious that the staff is not going to keep hiring a waitress and cooks to serve me and the few others who occasionally come in.

I was surprised by this breakfast pattern. I had thought elders would appreciate the virtues of a more healthy breakfast, but rolls and scones seem to be the preferred foods. Last I knew, eggs, especially egg whites, had improved their reputation and sweets were on the no-no list. I'm still searching for answers.

Is it money? I doubt it; most residents, like me, usually fail to use up their paid food allowances, and there are no refunds. Besides, this is a group of generaly affluent seniors who can afford almost anything they want. Is it a general dislike of breakfast? Is it the bad reputation eggs have had in the past? Some people may have been warned by their doctors to avoid eggs, but I'll bet they were not told to replace them with sweets. How about a good, inexpensive bowl of oatmeal?

Perhaps the breakfast-skipping habits of younger generations have rubbed off on elders. Some residents eat large lunches in the dining room (not very many) and most concentrate on dinners. I, for one, usually skip dinner in favor of something light in my apartment. I've never enjoyed going out for dinner every evening, no matter how gourmet the restaurant. Too much food in the evening interferes with my early to bed, early to rise pattern.

Will I succumb to the continental breakfast craze? Will I start cooking scrambled eggs in my kitchen? Will I go on a crash diet? There's no chance I'll starve. As with most of the growing-pain problems at The Clare, I look at this situation with amusement and curiosity to see how things will eventually work out. I guess my tastes and interests are even more outside the elder norm than I thought they were. And yes, I support the rights of elders and everybody else to eat as they choose. I should be used to being different by now.

My Dental Visit

2009-04-03T10:24:00.004-05:00

I've written about my transportation to my dentist's office. Now for a few comments about my experience!

If you've read my first book, you may remember the chapter entitled "My $30,000 Teeth." My teeth are marvels of expensive crowns and restorations. Now they require a lot of upkeep, or so my dentist says. I recently received a card thanking me for five years of business; it was signed by everybody in the office. I must be the star patient (and probably the oldest).

The purpose of this week's visit was merely examination and cleaning. Little did I know that it was more involved than that. Ever careful, my dentist insisted that I take a massive dose of antibiotics because of my knee replacement surgery. It seems that what goes on in one's mouth can affect the rest of the body, so any infection could be disastrous. My gums were in bad shape after less than great dental hygeine while I was in the hospital and nursing home.

Now I have to return in two or three weeks for further antiobiotics and futher care. I have always hated going to the dentist, but now it's becoming a regular activity. More that $300 later, I was dismissed until April 22. Would I have been better off with my "old" teeth? They might have fallen out by now. How much do regular dentures cost?

As I've said before, I'm glad to have an improved smile, but is all this realistic? How many elders can afford such extensive dental services? Can I? Not really. Are big-city dentists just better salesmen? I wonder if all this is necessary.

Life in the Fast Lane

2009-03-31T15:15:00.002-05:00

I needed to visit my dentist yesterday. My knee surgery and moving and other problems had kept me away, and anyway, I have always avoided dentists when I could.

Another reason to avoid my dentist is the difficulty of getting to his office. It's not that it's far away, but there is absolutely no parking anywhere nearby, and I no longer live within walking distance, at least for me.

Takin g a bus involves too much walking, too. Taking a cab is easy, but getting one on the way home is less so. Anyway, living at the Clare gives me another perk: complimentary transportation within a certain area, including my dentist's street. Keith drives a big Town Car, by appointment, free of charge. He is employed by the building.

We've had this service for some time, but I've never used it. After all, I'm within walking distance of most things, and I own a car, too. Having a car and driver to depend on is not only beyond my budget, but against my middle class sensibilities. Yesterday, I decided to try it anyway.

Now I'm beginning to appreciate the luxuries of the wealthy. What a convenience to climb into a waiting car, get to my destination quickly, and get picked up for the ride home! I could get used to such things.

Income Tax? It's Easier Than You May Think

2009-03-29T05:38:00.003-05:00

Every year about this time, sometimes earlier, sometimes later, I begin to dread the annual ritual of filing my income taxes, state and federal. The very thought is enough to make me find other things to do, or worse yet, to go on an eating binge. I avoided the latter this year, but the dread was still there.

Actually, I've discovered over the years that filling out tax forms is easy, thanks to the computer and Turbo Tax. This is not an advertisement for Turbo Tax; I'm sure other programs do just as well, but that's the one Ive used for some years. I really believe that any educated, computer-savvy person should be able to file his or her own taxes as long as they don't involve complicated transactions. Those with million-dollar portfolios can easily afford the best accountants, so I'm not talking about them.

I guess I made my decision to do my own taxes years ago, when one of my freshman English students wrote about getting a job at a popular tax service despite her lack of training and knowledge. Considering that student's modest reading and writing abilities, I could understand why she didn't last long in the job. More importantly, my fierce sense of independence kicked in. Surely I could do a better job than she did. I went ahead, with my husband's blessings. He always left accounting matters to me.

The very simple federal tax form can be completed for free online, but then there are usually charges for upgraded tax programs, state forms, and e-filing (which I've also done since it became available). As a repeat customer with a need for something just a bit more advanced, I just started filling in my information in Turbo Taxd Deluxe, paid the fees (just under $100, including sales tax), by credit card, and finished in a couple of hours. You can try the program without charge.

The good news is that for the first time in many years, I get a tax refund. Not much has changed; I just overpaid my estimated tax, but I appreciate any bit of good news. I'll pay less in estimated taxes this year. Not having bought or sold any individual stocks, I can't write off any losses, but my mutual funds may eventually recover.

So after a couple hours of work, I've finished my income taxes. Yes, I pay a lot (my pension income is mainly taxable by the feds, and my required minimum withdrawals from my tax-sheltered annuities are definitely taxed.) So far, the state of Illinois does not tax retirement income, but I fear that's about to change.

By this morning, I'd been notified by e-mail that both my federal and state tax forms had been accepted, and my refund will be in my bank account fairly soon. I felt relief; why had I spent so much time dreading all this? Thanks to computers, doing taxes is easy for many of us. Unless you're in a complicated tax situation, don't be afraid. Just pull out your tax information and sit down at the computer.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Confessions of an (Almost) Reformed Couch Potato

2009-03-24T09:08:00.005-05:00

I've always been a couch potato: overweight, inactive, awkward, and lazy. I was never athletic; I never participated in any sports in high school or college. I've certainly been prodded by parents, doctors, and friends to get moving, but I've seldom done so. The inactivity brought on by my fairly recent knee replacement surgery only made things worse.

Now I find that this retirement paradise where I live is serious about fitness. Not that anyone forces anyone into any activity, but there's always a list of exercise classes and activities, from beginning to advanced, on the schedule.

Thanks to my visiting niece, who prodded me gently, I began to attend a beginning excercise class three times a week. Guess what? I've stayed with it. I also try to visit the fitness room to use the exercise bike, recumbent cross trainer, even the treadmill, twice a week or so. For the first time in my long life, I seem to be sticking to an exercise routine. Will wonders never cease?

I once owned a treadmill. Along with the recumbent exercise bike that replaced it, it served as a good rack for clothes and as a dustcatcher. I seldom bothered to use either. So what's the difference? For one thing, I have a "now or never" feeling. If I don't get into shape now, when will I? Time may be running out.

Then there's peer pressure. We have a skilled, kind leader who understands elders. It's comforting to see fellow residents obviously older and less fit than I (along with others more fit) exercising together. I'll never be the star of the class, but I can generally keep up. It's annoying and embarrassing to have one arm I can't raise over my head and legs that give out occasionally, but I'm used to those problems, and nobody comments.

The Clare is serious about all this. I had to give permission to contact my doctor (she'll be overjoyed to hear that I'm getting out of my recliner to exercise) and sign an agreement not to hold the staff responsible for injury or death. Actually, I'm more likely to die at the dinner table than on the exercise equipment, so signing was not a problem.

Now, I hope I can keep this up. It's easy to make excuses when I feel tired or sore, but in reality, exercise usually peps me up. Now if I can stop using food to cure depression, my body may have a chance. I guess it's better late than never to give up my couch potato status, but it may be a struggle.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Amortality? Not For Me

2009-03-22T11:22:00.005-05:00

In this age of Botox and cryonic preservation of bodies, it's no wonder that someone (Catherine Mayer, in #5 of "10 Ideas Changing the World Right Now," Time, March 23, 2009) has coined a new term: "Amortality." "It's more than just the ripple effect of baby boomers' resisting the onset of age. Amortality is a stranger, stronger alchemy, created by the intersection of that trend with a massive increase in life expectancy and a deep decline in the influence of organized religion--all viewed through the blue haze of Viagra."

"Amortal" is Mayer's term for those who seem to "live in the same way, at the same pitch, doing and consuming much the same things, from late teens right up until death." One example is singer Madonna. The idea is apparantly a quest never to get old or slow down, no matter what.

As a woman well beyond baby boomer age, I have had some years to learn to deal with the aging process, and I neither expect or want to live forever. I have slowed down in many ways, and I have no desire to be a human dynamo--or an amortal. Being old has its perks. Those of us fortunate enough to have planned for our "golden years" ("amortals rarely make adequate provision for their final years") enjoy the luxury of not working. I, for one, try to keep active, but I have no desire to be "on the go" all the time, like a few of my contemporaries.

I wonder if the typical amortal knows the joys of reclining with a good book and a view of Lake Michigan on a sunny day? How about the occasional half-day spent at the computer in an old robe and without makeup, bloogging about whatever comes to mind?

I'm all for happy, healthy aging, but it seems to me that some retirees try too hard. The idea of being booked with constant activities, whether bridge, golf, shuffleboard, or even cultural events, to name just a few possibilities, makes me tired. I admit to being a loner with reclusive tendencies, but I do make sure to get out from time to time.

To the baby boomers and my fellow elders, my advice is to relax. Don't slow down too much, but listen to your mind and your body. Do you really want to play bridge again? Are three concerts in a week too many? Are you always tired? I, for one, am mortal, and I'll do my best to prolong and enjoy the aging process. Trying to be an amortal is not for me.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

A Comforting Return to Routine

2009-03-07T09:27:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I returned to my old volunteer post at the Chicago Cultural Center for the first time in more than five months. My old Thursday morning shifts at the Washington Street information desk were parts of my routine for about two years, and I enjoyed them.

My knee operations kept me away for a long while. Of course someone else took over my regular shift, and I considered not returning. Still, I found that I need the certainty of a familiar place to go. Yesterday, the Washington Street security guard greeted me enthusiastically and brought me his newspapers to read during quiet times. Things were back to normal. Unfortunately, many of the other people I knew at the Cultural Center, including the Director of Volunteers, were victims of Chicago's budget cuts while I was away.

My volunteer job is a no-brainer; I mainly give directions to different events and exhibits, and to the washrooms, the Senior Center, the gift shop, and the Chicago Visitors' Center. I've been told, however, that seeing a welcoming, smiling face is important to tourists who may wander into the building in bewilderment. The building is beautiful, and many of the exhibits are fascinating. I hope to attend more concerts and other activities there in the future.

So I'm overcoming my intertia back at the information desk. Boring? Occasionally, but it's a routine that seems to suit me. I hope I get my Thursday morning schedule back, but if not, I'll fill in when needed. Next up: next Friday afternoon.

Good Financial News for a Change

2009-03-05T13:23:00.005-06:00

Aren't the news reports dreary these days? No wonder I was depressed by the idea of a nearly half-million dollar promissory note coming due. It all depended on the sale of my condo, and there were no takers.

I'm happy to say that the condo has been sold, my note has been paid, and the pressure is off. Worrying about money is a new experience for me, but I hope my worries are over. Now if the state of Illinois can only keep its pension systems going!

Each day, I talk to other Clare residents also waiting for buyers for their houses and condos. I guess I was lucky, relatively speaking. No wonder some of us old folks ask, "What's the world coming to?" No one at The Clare is likely to starve or become homeless, but we feel compassion for those elders less fortunate than we are.

Now I hope that the news reports get better. It's hard for us seniors to recover what we've lost.

Plumbers and Hot Water: They Just Take Time

2009-03-05T13:09:00.003-06:00

A week or so ago, my shower spouted one temperature of water: luke-warm. I complained, and a plumber came in to fix it. I asssumed that all was well, but the next day, I discovered that no water came from that shower at all. I have another shower stall, but that one was filled with pictures awaiting hanging on my walls.

Soon my niece came to visit, so fortunately she did the heavy lifting and we cleaned out the guest shower stall. I'd never tried that shower, but we discovered that it worked fine.

Fast-forward a week: today, three plumbers arrived at my door. After a lot of effort and two visits, they got my shower working again, or at least I hope so. Actually, one shower is enough for me, but I prefer the more convenient one. Besides, I may have a guest again in the future.

I'm beginning to appreciate the complications of getting a large high-rise building up and running.

A Few Senior Living Notes

2009-03-03T09:37:00.006-06:00

My niece, Cindy, left yesterday after a short visit. She managed to hang many of the pictures and other artifacts that had been cluttering my bathtub and one of the shower stalls. A few bigger works still await hanging, but the place looks much better. It was great to have her here.

My real estate closing is over, and I'm relieved. I now have enough money to pay the rest of my considerable fee here.

I attended my first exercise class yesterday, at the urging of Cindy. I am in sad physical shape, but exercising among other elders certainly beats trying to work out with young, toned Yuppies elsewhere.

Our white tablecloth dining room's charm was enhanced this morning by small vases on the tables, each containing two or three brilliantly-colored flowers. I don't know where they were grown, but those flowers seem to foretell the eventual coming of spring.

Home, Sweet High-rise

2009-02-22T13:33:00.005-06:00

My high-rise home, The Clare at Water Tower.

Today's Chicago Tribune featured an article, "What's new in high-rise buildings: A Skyscraper designed for seniors," by Tribune critic Blair Kamin. This photo accompanied the article.

For more exterior photos, go to www.chicagotribune.com/theclare.

A Writing Challenge: Winter

2009-02-21T06:26:00.002-06:00

As winter seems to keep its grip on northern climes, how about some writing about winter? I've issued a challenge on my other blog, "Write Your Life!" (www.seniormemoirs.blogspot.com) to write rictameters or other poems, but prose musings about winter are welcome too. Let's write our way into spring!

How about some descriptions of winter in those warmer havens where some of you live? Or write about why you love (or hate) winter. Memories of previous winters are welcome, too.

The Final Journey: A Book Review

2009-02-20T06:31:00.004-06:00

A review of The Leisure Seeker, by Michael Zadoorian (William Morrow, 2009).

The final stages of life often involve hospitals and pain and invasive treatments as even the most productive, happy life comes to a close. What if a long-married couple decided to avoid all that to take a final cross-country honeymoon trip? That's the premise of Michael Zadoorian's novel "The Leisure Seeker."

Ella, with terminal cancer, and John, with Alzheimer's, leave their disapproving doctors and their adult children behind in the midwest to escape in their '78 Leisure Seeker RV along what's left of old Route 66 to Disneyland. With John at the wheel and Ella as navigator, the couple set out to grab just a bit more of life "in search of a past they're having a damned hard time remembering."

This bittersweet tale is about courage and daring, about crumbling roads and memories. There's humor in Ella's matter-of-fact ways of handling John's dementia, in her attitude toward taking her ever-more-necessary "discomfort pills," in her wry acceptance of what's to come.

This is a compelling book. Perhaps it will make some of today's active seniors consider such a final fling. The book's admirable, courageous characters encourage thoughts about daring new ways to approach the inevitable end and to have fun along the way.

Another Plug for Senior Writing

2009-02-20T05:28:00.003-06:00

Steve Gurney, age 43, founder of the Guide to Retirement Living Sourcebook, recently lived for a week at the Paul Spring Retirement Community in Alexandria, Virginia (see my earlier post). His goal was to gain first-hand experience in order to "help families better understand this important transition."I expressed reservations about the usefulness of such a short, temporary stay, quite unlike the generally final move we elders make. Still, I admire Steve's purpose. You can read all about it at http://www.retirement-living.com/publisher/.

One point that Steve Gurney made especially interested me: "The activities director of Paul Spring had prepared a “scrapbook” that includes a one page biography of most of the residents of the community. This was fascinating to read, and it gave me an easy way to engage some residents in conversation. Ask if there is something like this in communities you might be considering – I have seen very elaborate community biographies created by residents."

Of course I have been promoting senior life story writing for some time, but I especially like the idea of senior community biographies or autobiographies. They would make getting acquainted much easier. So far, no takers at The Clare, but perhaps I can get something started.

Self-Analysis Time!

2009-02-19T06:08:00.006-06:00

Why haven't I been writing blog posts lately? Of course I was too ill to do anything last week, but that was only a temporary problem. Here I am living in the senior community of my dreams, yet I've been depressed. Perhaps I'll call what's wrong with me "inertia." I've suffered from clinical depression off and on for most of my life, so it's time to come up with a new label for what's wrong with me.

One dictionary definition of inertia is this: "Resistance or disinclination to motion, action, or change." That's my disease, all right. It's like I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess part of the problem has to do with money. To move here with my condo unsold, I had to sign a large promissory note for nearly half a million dollars, due March 9. I had visions of being kicked out of my new apartment, although things weren't really that bad. Plan B would have been financially disastrous, but at least there was a Plan B.

So what happened? The condo finally sold, although at a nonprofitable price. The closing is on February 27. With my savings and the condo payment, I'll be able to pay off the note. Good news, right? So why have I not been elated and energetic? For one thing, the business manager of The Clare made an error on a bill she sent; my debt had mysteriously grown. I just got that straightened out yesterday.

After the necessary week off, I went back to my three-times-a-week physical therapy on Monday. It's now more painful than ever. I'm glad I had knee replacement surgery, but it's cerrtainly taken a toll on my feeling of well-being. Will I ever be able to walk gracefully and easily again?

I suppose another thing bothering me has been the finality of moving into a senior residence, even though this is a very nice one. Yes, there are activities, but none that especially appeal to me. The building is not fully occupied yet, so things are just getting started. Have I done much to help? No. What have I done? Too many puzzles and computer games. Some reading, but not enough.

So there you have my "disease": inertia. This is my promise to begin doing something about it. For one thing, I'm expecting a visit from my brother and my niece next week. I look forward to that. Spring is on the way (you'd never know it from today's Chicago weather), and I'll start getting out more.

Finally, I plan to take my own advice: write. Writing helped me reinvent myself in 2006; perhaps it's time for a new reinvention in 2009. Remember my March, 2008, rictameter-a-day project on my other blog, "Write your Life!"? It's nearly March again, so I hope to come up with a new rictameter project. Stay tuned. And I hope to have more to say about senior living here.

Steve Gurney's Interesting Experiment

2009-02-10T09:26:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, Steve Gurney, age 43, took up temporary residence at Paul Spring Retirement Community in Alexandria, Virginia.

Gurney is the founder of the Guide to Retirement Living Sourcebook, "a comprehensive resource that provides details on all of the senior living options in the mid-Atlantic region." He realized that after spending his career helping families and elders make these choices, he had "never experienced the transition first-hand as a resident. I will be using this experience to help families better understand this important transition."

As a new resident of a retirement community in Chicago, I find Steve Gurney's idea interesting in the tradition of first-hand investigative journalism. It reminds me of various reporters' "Homeless for a Week" stories, etc. These are stories I always read with a few reservations: how can a reporter know the hopelessness and despair of the truly homeless when he/she has a warm, comfortable home to return to in seven days? Gurney is not really old (yet), and he will surely return to his home and his career. This move is a temporary disruption for him.

Still, those reservations aside, I welcome Gurney's seemingly sincere interest in discovering various truths about retirement living. Ideally, more of us genuine elders who make such transitions should write about the experience, but without any economic incentive, it's sometimes hard to work up the energy and enthusiasm necessary for such an effort. So far, I've found my fellow Clare residents reluctant to blog, and I haven't devoted much time to analyzing my own experience. Perhaps I can rectify that by commenting occasionally on Steve Gurney's experiment.

I hope that Mr. Gurney will meet all kinds of seniors, including those like me who aren't especially interested in typical organized activities for seniors, as well as those who are eager participants.

In a blog post, Gurney compares himself to journalist George Plimpton, who told his story of suiting up as a Detroit Lion football player in his book Paper Lion. "He [Plimpton] gave sports fans a perspective on what it feels like to be a professional athlete that couldn't be communicated through traditional reporting or locker room interviews." Gurney says that he is "doing my best to respect the position of elders, keep my eyes wide open, and experience feelings and emotions first hand."

I wonder if the Paul Spring residents will accept a 43-year-old as one of them, or if they'll treat him like the visiting journalist he is. Will he attract the complaints of "soreheads" with issues about the place or merely fawning expressions of appreciation? I hope he gets a cross-section of opinions, honestly expressed.

Perhaps Steve Gurney will inspire us elders to write about our own experiences, and will succeed in his efforts to find out what retirement living is really like. One thing he can't experience--yet--is that feeling of being in the last stage of life. Perhaps that is one thing that permeates the whole retirement living expeience for most of us. For now, I'll wish Steve well. Check out his blog at http://www.retirement-living.com/publisher/.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne

An Unexpected Benefit of Senior Living: a Clean Carpet

2009-02-09T11:13:00.005-06:00

I've always enjoyed relatively good health (arthritic knees excepted), so I never stopped to think about sudden illness and its consequences. Well, suddenly yesterday morning, my digestive system rebelled with some kind of intestinal virus (said to be going around), and I was sick, sick, sick. Of course I've had what we used to call the "stomach flu" before, but it was never this bad. My stomach rejected everything put into it the day before and anything I tried to eat or drink yesterday. Nothing stayed down, nothing. I was weak and miserable all day, and I couldn't move more than a few feet away from a bathroom. I never left my apartment.

After a fairly good night's sleep, I felt a bit better. I thought my stomach was completely empty. Then it happened: whaever was stored in my system decided to come out very quickly, and I didn't make it to the bathroom in time. The result was a badly stained beige carpet, brand new, of course.

Imagine my dismay! This had never happened to me before, and in my pristine highrise apartment, it seemed to be a disaster. That's when a major benefit of living at The Clare appeared: Thelma, the head housekeeper, promptly came in to survey the situation and brought Maurice, with his carpet cleaning machine, in. He said that no stain ever defeated him, and I now believe him. The carpet looks fine, and my embarrassment is fading.

Had something like this happened in my condo, I would have had to wait a long time for outside professional cleaning. It wouldn't have been cheap, either. I'm beginning to appreciate The Clare and the services it offers more and more! As for my health, I'm still weak, but I've managed to retain a glass of orange juice, half a piece of toast, and a scrambled egg. So far, so good. Now to try a bowl of soup for lunch!

Some Preliminary Thoughts on High-end Senior Living

2009-01-31T06:28:00.007-06:00

I've been living at The Clare at Water Tower for three weeks now. I'm still getting used to the place. Here are a few thoughts on the good and the annoying parts of living here:

The good:

My apartment is lovely, with its views of Lake Michigan and the Chicago skyline. Once I get my mirrors and pictures on the walls and out of the bathtub and one shower stall and find a few missing possessions, I'll be perfectly settled and comfortable.

The dining room food is excellent. There's no need to cook. But I have a few problems with eating here (see below).

The location can't be beat, at least for a city lover. My three-times-a-week physical therapy sessions are about four blocks away, and even in Chicago's winter weather, I've been able to walk there all but once (icy sidewalks). There's a doorman to get a taxi, too. There's also a convenient Walgreens store to provide for almost any emergency.

In the building, there's a library (still in need of organization). There's an exercise room filled with machines, one of which I actually use from time to time.

There are endless activities listed on the Clare website, although so few residents have computers that most people don't even know what's going on. Most of the activities are just getting started; people are still moving into the building.

The service is very good. Newspapers and large packages are delivered to my door, my apartment is cleaned once a week, a maintenance man is always on call (there's sometimes a wait, but that's understandable), and my extras did fit into my small storage bin (I had doubts about that). I don't have that old helpless feeling if something goes wrong.

The annoying: As I probably would at any senior residence, I feel a small decrease in independence. Instead of just going to the garage to get my car, I have to call ahead and have it delivered downstairs. It sometimes takes quite a while. Of course I use my car very seldom, and may not keep it for long. I can't leave my apartment for the public areas without giving at least a bit of attention to my appearance (I still dress more casually than most, but no dirty bathrobe or face without makeup).

Even though I recognize their importance, I sometimes resent all the emergency call buttons in my apartment. Yes, I may need one sometime, but I annoys me that one of them slips down occasionally and brings a frantic call from the security desk. There's nothing wrong with the non-slipping ones except that they remind me I'm old.

As I've said, the food is good--too good. It's certainly not low-calorie food, with the possible exception of the Healthy Choice Breakfast (an eggwhite omelet). I lack willpower when it comes to food, so I'm tempted to eat pancakes, bacon, delicious bread, even desserts. Maybe we need a lo-cal menu or a special table for those of us with weight problems. And even the best menu can become monotonous after a while. I guess I have a problem with too much food and too much choice, not much of it healthy. It's a bit like eating out every day at the same fine restaurant. That doesn't fit my casual style very well. Of course I have a kitchen. I may have to take up cooking, thereby forfeiting part of my monthly food allowance (not cheap, of course).

It's easy to be lazy here. In a way, living here is like living in a fine hotel. The building still has growing pains, and I still have adjustment problems. My basic loner personality has kept me from making close friends so far, and it may be too late to change. That's my problem, not The Clare's. I'm not likely to turn into a social butterfly, but at least I hope to get back to doing more writing. So far, my attempts to interest my fellow seniors in computers and writing have come to naught.

My main problem is the lack of communication here. So far, I haven't received instructions for using the appliances, staff telephone numbers, or a TV channel lineup. I simply don't know whom to ask for those things. I guess I'm not good at asking questions. I wish we had a newsletter to let us know what's going on. I'd be happy to work on such a newsletter if someone would keep me informed myself. I suspect that the staff has enough to do right now.

So the saga continues. This is a beautiful, expensive place to live. As senior residences go, it may be one of the best, but perhaps I just resent the fact that I'm not young anymore. Have I been alone too long? Don't worry; I'll adjust.

Photo: northern view from my apartment

A Cat, a Town, A Life: a Book Review

2009-01-18T06:39:00.004-06:00

A review of Dewey: the Small Town Library Cat Who Touched the World, by Vicki Myron, with Bret Witter (Grand Central, 2008).

If you love cats, the book jacket photo alone will entice you. However, this book is about more than just a cat. Dewey the cat is a "catalyst" (pun intended) for the survival of a small Iowa town and a major force in the life of the author.

Dewey (full name: Dewey Readmore Books), only a few weeks old, was stuffed into the book return slot at the Spencer, Iowa, Public Library on a very cold night. The frostbitten kitten was discovered the next morning by library director Vicki Myron, a single mother and survivor herself. From then on, Dewey resided in and ruled the library.

Dewey was a special cat who seemed to know how to charm and comfort everyone, from young library patrons to the entire staff to the local press and especially Vicki, who became his champion and chief companion.

Library patronage increased as Dewey became everyone's special friend. He attracted national and international press attention, even a movie crew from Japan. For nineteen years, Dewey was the symbol of a reviving and surviving library and town. He put Spencer, Iowa, on the map and improved Vicki's problem-filled life considerably. How? Just by being Dewey.

As a cat lover and former small twon girl, I couldn't put this book down. Of course I cried at the end, as I have at the end of every one of my own cats' lifespans, but I'm happy to have met Dewey through this book's pages. He was, indeed, special.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne
Photo courtesy of Amazon.com

The "Joys" of Moving

2009-01-17T14:32:00.003-06:00

As a person who likes to have everything organized and neatly arranged (even though I procrastinate about such things and had an efficient crew to unpack my worldly goods after my move), I still have had a few uncomfortable moments.

1. I discovered that I don't have enough wall space for my wall decorations and art collection. My carefully-wrapped pictures and mirrors are still filling my bathtub and one of the shower stalls.

2. The three large boxes of books intended for The Clare library turned up in the shower stall, too.

3. I have a few extras to go to my storage compartment, but there's a catch: I can get those things carted away, but only if I can provide a padlock. I don't have one, and haven't been able to go out shopping for one yet due to the weather. These large items are still cluttering my living room.

4. In my office, the cable connection turned out to be on the wall opposite my computer desk rather than the wall behind it. My computer cables and other gear were jumbled in a box in the closet. No wonder I had to hire a technician for more than four hours to get me on line again.

5. I'm an avid reader of the Chicago Tribune, so of course I called to transfer my home delivery subscription to The Clare. For days, it didn't show up. Thanks to the building concierge (yes, we have one) I finally got a paper yesterday, and today's arrived at my 35th floor door early in the morning without incident. I'm turned in to the world again. Despite my computer, I still like to sit down and read a newspaper every day.

6. Since I didn't put my own things away, there are still a few things I haven't found, but that means I have surprises every day. I still haven't found my little booklets of postage stamps, for example. I seem to recall writing earlier about the tyranny of "stuff." I have too much of it.

As you can see, my annoyances have been minor. My lovely apartment and magnificent lake view (see a previous post) make living here a joy. The dining is gourmet quality; there's a weekly cleaning service. This is high-end senior living. Now if the economy will just improve, I'll be better able to afford it. I'll take more pictures later.

Moving Memories: Six Days Later

2009-01-15T10:48:00.004-06:00

Moving is traumatic. No matter how many hired or volunteer helpers one has, things will be confusing. Here's how my packing and moving days, January 8 and 9, went:

On January 8, bright and early, the packers came, the charity pickup men came later. The packers did their job, although there were a few absurdities, such as their careful wrapping and labeling of the toilet plunger. In fact, everything was padded and wrapped and labeled, and believe me, there was a lot of "stuff."

The charity pickup, arranged by Mature Transitions, didn't work out quite as expected. The driver refused to take my gigantic entertainment center cabinet: it was too big and heavy. Only after the driver had left did one of the movers point out that this heavy item came apart (not easily) into two sections. Next day, that "white elephant" was finally hauled away.

The packers were not finished by 3 p.m., when I had to leave for The Clare to sign papers--no signing and the movers would be sent away. This last-minute closing was not my choice. I just left, trusting the mover-packers to lock up.

I finally got back, tired and hungry, to a condo jammed with boxes and wrapped items, but with my bed fortunately intact. I ate some junk food and went to bed. During the night and in the morning, my stomach rebelled. I needed to stay close to the bathroom. I was sick, sick, sick, and it was moving day. It was also a very snowy day in Chicago.

Mature Transitions representatives, who were in charge of unpacking and arranging, came early to haul away my two plants and the sparse contents of my refrigerator and freezer. Those things magically appeared later in my new residence.

The movers, who had loaded certain boxes the day bewfore, braved the snow to deliver them to The Clare early. They were back to pick up the furniture by 10:30. A crew of four from Mature Transitions was on hand at my new place to unpack and arrange.

By mid-afternoon, my condo was empty, the van was loaded, and I was ready to put my suitfcase and a few papers into my car and drive the short distance to The Clare.

Some positive moving moments:

1. The movers agreed to bring me a nutritious lunch when they went out for their own. Some sensible eating seemed to cure my stomach problems.

2. One of the movers agreed to buy my exercise bike, which was about to be given away. It wouldn't fit in my new place, and The Clare provides such things anyway.

3. The movers also agreed to dispose of my sofa bed mattress, which was ruined years ago by my late cat, Lyon. This was a relief; I hesitated to buy a replacement mattress before I knew how to get rid of the old, stained one. Problem solved.

4. The Mature Transditions crew worked long and hard to find a place for all my worldly goods in my new apartment. I would have been overwhelmed had I faced that task myself.

Next: Problems after the move and how I'm doing now.

Moving Day Minus One

2009-01-08T04:58:00.003-06:00

Have you ever thought of the logistics of moving large numbers of people into a new highrise city building in a short time? Add to that the economic downturn, and you know that there will be serious problems.

Tomorrow is my long-scheduled moving day; today is packing day. It almost didn't happen. I spent all day yesterday eagerly awaiting a phone call telling me whether or not I had to call off the move. It would be easy to blame the staff of The Clare for the problems, but perhaps I took their assurances that financial matters could be worked out until I sold my condo too literally.

The Clare, a very expersive and beautiful senior lifetime care building on Chicago's Gold Coast, was designed some years ago on the premise that affluent seniors would have plenty of money after selling their rapidly-appreciating homes and condos. I foolishly believed that the real estate boom would go on forever, so I signed up in 2004. You know how things have been going lately; my condo has not sold, even though the price is now listed at slightly less than I paid eight years ago.

This week, moving week, after many weeks of seeking information and a meeting with the staff, I was finally told to come up with the entire large sum of money before moving, or else. I'm not seeking charity, and on paper, I have the money. However, withdrawing my tax sheltered annuities all at once would bring so much income tax that I'd virtually be wiped out.

To make matters worse, my financial advisor was out of town until Tuesday, and I couldn't get in touch with him. Eventually, a lot of good people helped, but I'm still unhappy about the delays and run-around I got--perhaps unintentionally.

Now I'm moving in, but I face a large debt. Within sixty days, my condo must be sold or I must withdraw my annuities. If there's a message here, it's to get everything signed well in advance, hope for improved economic conditions, and be especially careful about committing to a senior building before it's built. It takes a long time, and conditions can change.

Don't feel too sorry for me. I was naive, and I've not missed any meals or lacked shelter. It was my choice to move into a very expensive and luxurious place (more pictures later), and I still believe I made a good decision. As someone says, "The devil is in the details." Wish me luck!

Hospital Survival Guide: A Book Review

2009-01-03T07:01:00.007-06:00

A review of Critical Conditions: the Essential Hospital Guide to Get Your Loved One Out Alive, by Martine Ehrenclou, M.A. (Lemon Grove, 2008).

No one likes to think about being hospitalized, or of dealing with the hospitalizaation of loved ones. This is a book that answers those questions that you probably were afraid to ask or never thought to ask.

Based on interviews with nurses, doctors, social workers, and families, this is a serious book well worth reading for anyone facing the need to deal with any personal or family hospital experience.

According to Ehrenclou, "Hospitals today are institutions struggling to survive in an environment where authority is in the hands of insurance companies rather than patients and their families. Rapid advancement in technology makes ever more expensive treatments in wide demand. Nurses are more expensive and harder to find and retain. . . . Serious infections, which are often treated in hospitals, are inadvertently spread from one patient to another. All of these factors are serious impediments to the compassionate care and good outcome we all desire when hospitalization is necessary."

Every patient needs an advocate or an advocate team, especially if he or she is elderly and impaired. The advocate serves as his or her "loved one's eyes and ears," establishing contacts with doctors and nurses. Responsibilities include keeping track of the patient's medications, allergies, symptoms, treatment plan, diet, and a myriad of other things.

It is the advocate's duty to catch patient name errors (to prevent similarly-named patients from getting someone else's treatment or medications), insist on pain management, and speak up if something appears wrong.

Of course the problem is doing all these things without insulting or seeming to second-guess the doctors, nurses, and hospital administrators. Infinite tact and understanding are required. Yet hospital personnel do want to avoid unfortunate or even fatal errors, and many are willing to listen.

This is a very detailed book, containing interviews, tragic examples, hospital staff and medical terms glossaries, and spaces for patient advocates' lists and notes. It also includes a list of useful websites for information on medical conditions, medication errors, and hospitals.

It would be comforting to think of hospitals as efficient, caring institutions that can take care of us and our families, but the economic realities and unfortunate errors pointed out by Martine Ehrenclou ring true.

Read this book if you or a family member faces hospitalization. It is filled with valuable information and useful suggestions that we can't afford to ignore.

Copyright 2009 by Marlys Marshall Styne
Photo of book from Amazon.com. Go to that site for a look inside the book.

Views From The Clare, 12/30/08

2008-12-31T06:10:00.007-06:00

Yesterday I entered my new apartment at The Clare for the first time! I loved it. Here are my first pictures; I'll wait until the furniture is there before posting any more. Of course the place still looks empty.

The top picture shows part of my view to the east: a bit of Lake Michigan, the Water Tower Place shopping mall and Macy's on Michigan Avenue, other buildings. Had I been able to venture out on the balcony (not a good idea on the 35th floor in Chicago's winter), I could have shown the old Chicago Water Tower and other buildings closer to The Clare. It's a fine view, and there are others to the north.

The second photo shows part of my kitchen. The refrigerator is off to the right. It's not a very big kitchen, but I have my usual stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops. I learned to love them in my condo. Since I don't cook anyway, the size of the kitchen doesn't matter.

There are big floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, with blinds to cover them, of course. I think I'll like living in a high-rise building. Perhaps that's because I grew up on a Wisconsin farm. Anyway, moving day is creeping up (January 9), so watch for further reports.

A move to a senior building is a big event for anyone, but I'm glad to do it before I need assisted living or nursing care. It's comforting to know that those sections exist in the building should I ever need them--and I probably will.

Photos by the author.

Holiday Reflections

2008-12-30T05:16:00.002-06:00

I'm happy to report that I am now back home. It was an easy trip, quite unlike my snowy experience on December 23. As I look back on my holiday excursion, I have come to a few conclusions:

1. People are basically kind and helpful. Drivers, wheelchair attendants, even security screeners went beyond their basic duties for this temporaarily handicapped traveler and remained cheerful. Strangers offered help on several occasions: offers to get food and water as I waited hours in my wheelchair at the gate in Chicago; early boarding help when the plane finally arrived.

2. Having family is wonderful. Childless as I am, I often forget how nice it is to have relatives invite me for the holidays, even when I am far from my best. I guess relatives accept one in any condition. Many thanks to my niece Cindy, her husband Scott, and their daughter Lauren. They kept me comfortable and too well fed, and even pushed me around during a museum visit.

3. Holiday travel is filled with difficulties, including crowds and bad weather, but it's worth doing. I'm very glad I opted not to spend Christmas alone in my condo worrying about my problems. I've come back rejuvenated and ready to face whatever comes.

I'm happy to report that I'm walking a bit better (I still have four weeks of therapy to go, and it was interrupted by the holidays). Today, I visit my new residence at The Clare for the first time. A report will be forthcoming.

Merry Christmas to All

2008-12-25T07:51:00.004-06:00

Here's hoping that Santa Claus brought you everything you wanted, including health, happiness, and peace!

Marlys Marshall Styne (Seniorwriter)

A Bah Humbug Day--But All Turns Out Well

2008-12-24T08:28:00.004-06:00

As anyone in or near Chicago knows, Tuesday, December 23, was a day of snow, snow, snow. News reports revealed that 400--or up to 700, depending on the report--airline flights from Chicago were delayed, and my flight to Tulsa was one of them.

It was snowing lightly at daybreak, and the weather news was not good. However, I had faith that the limo service I had engaged would get me to Midway Airport. The driver came as scheduled, and he was very helpful. Picture me trying to maneuver my walker, pull a suitcase, and carry a small travel bag and a purse. Having four hands would have been useful. The driver, a tall young Italian, had to carry the bags to the van and escort me through the ice and snow and help me get in. I avoided falling.

On the way to midway, we saw a lot of emergency equipment, including fire engines, and saw a rollover accident. Meanwhile, the snow kept falling. I arrived at Midway in plenty of time, and got the help I needed: a wheelchair and a boarding pass. Security was time-consuming, due to my recent knee replacements and my lack of agility, but I got through that too with the help of the wheelchair pusher.

As things turned out, our plane could not get in because of poor visibility and was diverted to Columbus, Ohio, and the airport was soon shut down, as I sat in the wheelchair and watched the windows turn white with snow. Eventually, the airport reopened, and I could see long trains of snowplows going everywhere, as well as de-icing trucks working on the few planes in sight.

As it turned out, we eventually got on the plane, only to see the snow begin falling again. I was afraid the the airport would close down again, and that we would be stranded overnight. But thanks to a truck labeled "Iceman 14," the plane was deiced and eventually took off for the first stop, St. Louis. It was raining there, not snowing, so there were no further delays on the way to Tulsa. However, the plane was at least five hours late.

I was so happy to see my niece, my grandniece, and my brother at long last! They kept track of the Chicago airport saga on line, and avoided a long wait at the Tulsa airport. My niece's husband has still not arrived from Texas, where he was on a job assignment. Apparently, the national air system hasn't quite recovered.

Christmas season travel can be brutal, but I'm happy to say that all turned out well for me. I hope that all of you who dare to travel this season have equally happy outcomes. I still love Chicago, in spite of the weather. And spending the holiday with family is priceless.

Happy Holidays to All!

2008-12-22T12:12:00.004-06:00

To friends, relatives, and those who read my blog:

I want to wish you all joy during the coming holidays and for the coming new year. For the first time in many years, I haven't mailed out my usual Christmas letters and cards. If you've been reading about what's going on in my life, you know that I've been busy and distracted and sometimes depressed, so an account of my year would not be much fun to read (except for my spring trip to South Africa and my little book of poetry).

I assure those of you on my official holiday list that I'll be corresponding in January, hopefully to give you my new address and a progress report. Meanwhile, I've enjoyed all the cards and letters I've received. I'm off to Tulsa, Oklahoma, tomorrow, weather permitting, to spend Christmas with my niece and her family, as well as my brother. I hope to return rejuvenated on December 29. Then January 9 is moving day, if all goes well.

I may or not post blog entries while I'm away, but of course I'll write my usual holiday report after I return. Meanwhile, enjoy food and family and good books. May 2009 be a better year for us all.

Visiting The Clare Again

2008-12-18T08:25:00.004-06:00

Yesterday was The Clare's holiday party. I decided to load my walker into my car and head for the building's valet parking service, even though a coctail party is not the best environment for anyone using a walker. I felt awakward and clumsy, but I'm glad I went.

The food was great! I met the head chef, whose size reminded me that if I tried to eat all the available food, I'd soon be as large as he is. At least his size suggests that he's an appreciator of food, if not of the low calorie variety.

The staff was friendly as usual, even bringing me food and wine (did you ever try to carry buffet food while using a walker?), and I talked to several of my future neighbors. I discovered that quite a few of us are still trying to sell houses and condos. I seem to be the only one in that situation who's gambling on a specific moving date. Just daring, I guess.

We were serenaded by Christmas carolers in historic garb. They were very good. The decorations were beautiful. It was a festive occasion.

Toward the end of the party, I decided to take advantage of a partial building tour. I saw the chapel, the gym (not yet equipped), the small swimming pool, various dining rooms, and one model apartment. It was a one-bedroom apartment not much like mine will be, but this was my first chance to see actual living quarters. Again, I was impressed.

It was at the end of the short tour that the only snafu happened: the working elevator suddenly was not working (of the three in the elevator bank, one was out of order at the beginning; another was still being used by the construction crew). For a moment, I paniced; I was in no condition to walk down nine floors. Fortunately, the staff came to our group's rescue and led us to the freight elevator. I got down safely and drove home safely.

Having been pretty much a recluse since my operation, I was tired by this experience, but happy that I ventured out. The Clare is a beautiful building, and my move is only about three weeks away. Will I be ready? Probably not, considering my coming trip to Tulsa for Christmas, but after the boredom of a nursing home, some excitement should be good for me. Wish me luck!

My First Visit to The Clare

2008-12-17T06:09:00.002-06:00

If you've been following the saga of my coming move to The Clare at Water Tower (shown nearly finished in August, 2008), you know that it's been a building under construction for quite a few years. That means I'd never been inside.

Yesterday was the day of my first visit! I had a meeting on the 16th floor. That floor (an office floor) looked beautiful. The staff has now moved from temporary headquarters in the nearby Hancock Center to their actual offices at The Clare. The valet parking system was operating (that suits my present handicapped condition), and the staff was welcoming.

At least one couple has moved in; the rate is supposed to be about one or two moves per day from now on. Have I seen my on apartment yet? No, but I hope that I soon will. My moving date is set for January 9, although my condo has not sold and my financial problems have not been solved.

Anyway, just entering the building made me feel better. I have been somewhat depressed lately, but it seems that my dream of living in a luxury highrise senior building will really come true. I'll be blogging about what the experience is really like: moving and settling in, the companies such as Moving Station and Mature Transitions that have helped me so far. What is living in a senior community really like? I'll let you know.

Looking on the Bright Side

2008-12-09T06:18:00.002-06:00

Anyone reading this blog lately will have concluded that I have been depressed and feeling sorry for myself: two knee replacements, nearly six weeks in a hospital and a nursing home, financial problems, uncertainty, bad weather, an unsold condo, a fall. My list of problems seems to have been getting longer.

In the interest of not being one of those endlessly complaining elders, I have decided to look on the bright side. I will try my best to smile and look forward to happier times.

Perhaps my condo will be sold soon; there have been a few showings lately. That, or possibly a loan, could solve my financial problems.

My move to The Clare on January 9 may work out as scheduled. I have some promises of help, a mover, an organizer, and a sympathetic staff at the Clare.

I visit the surgeon on Thursday. I'm hoping to hear that all is well with my knees. I'm also hoping that I can get into my car and drive to the appointment. That way, I can avoid icy sidewalks.

Christmas is coming. If I can deal with airports and luggage, I will be among extended family. I've always enjoyed Christmas with my niece and her family, as well as my brother. We're not a close family, either geographically or emotionally, but it's fun to get together. I've felt very alone lately.

A new year is on the way. 2008 has been a rather painful and depressing year for me; 2009 can only be better. I have a lot to look forward to. Wish me luck!

(Thanks to my grand-niece, Lauren Truby, for her encouraging comment.)

Fear of Falling

2008-12-06T05:30:00.004-06:00

If you're past a certain age, you probably have seen and remembered those ads: "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" They promote a service providing buttons for senior citizens to push for help in emergencies. I used to laugh at those ads, but yesterday, I could have posed for one of them. Yes, I fell down, and no, I couldn't get up.

My physical therapist says it takes at least one good leg to get up from the floor, and so far, after two knee replacements, I don't have even one good leg. I wasn't paying attention, and I fell getting out of my recliner.

At first I was in a state of panic: would I die right there on my living room floor? After I calmed down, I realized that I could slide across the floor. I tried to reach some support that would allow me to get up, but alas, I couldn't get up no matter what I tried. Then I realized that I might be able to reach one of my telephones on a living room table, and I finally did. My phone directory was conveniently located on the same table.

So whom to call? If I called 911, I'd get a response, but in a building without a doorman, that might bring a fireman with an axe to open my door (as it did years ago) and a trip to an emergency room. I wasn't in need of medical help. I just needed to stand up.

I finally decided to call Laurie, a helpful old friend who lives fairly close. She still has keys to my building and my condo after helping me out while I was in the nursing home. It was only six a.m., but I called her. She promised to come, and she did. Laurie is a retired nurse, so I knew that if anyone could help me get up, she could.

Unfortunately, Laurie is not a large, powerful person, and she couldn't lift me up by herself. Then I thought of one of my condo neighbors, Cathy, who is a nurse--and an early riser. Laurie knocked on her door, and she came in to help. Between the two of them, I was lifted up and back in my recliner. How grateful I was and am!

That experience made me very shaky; in a bit less than an hour on the floor, I seemed to have lost my confidence that I could take care of myself. A good night's sleep has helped, but I'm now very careful about getting to my feet. I never thought I'd be one of those "I've fallen and I can't get up!" elders.

I guess the message is that while we treasure our independence, complete independence is sometimes impossible. I hope to recover from this knee replacement ordeal, but will I ever be able to lift myself up from the floor again? Getting old is very difficult, and these are trying times for me. Let's hope I have good news to write about soon!

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

Guest Post: After Knee Replacement Surgery--What to Expect

2008-11-28T05:20:00.004-06:00

By Sarah Scrafford

Our knees are subject to intense strain each time we walk or even stand. So it’s no surprise that these joints tend to give out sooner or later, especially when you become old or if you’re regularly involved in activities that place undue stress on them. Knee replacement surgery involves coating the worn ends of your thigh and shin bones and/or your kneecap with metal and plastic surfaces. The success of this surgery depends as much on the skill of the surgeon wielding the scalpel as on your ability to follow instructions after the procedure. Here’s what you need to do to get back to normal life once your surgery is complete:

Adhere strictly to your physiotherapy and rehabilitation program: Knee replacement surgeries are followed by rehab programs that last between six weeks and three months. Your therapist will guide you through a whole range of exercises designed to improve mobility and strengthen your thigh muscles (quadriceps and hamstrings). It’s important that you follow these exercises regularly; if you feel lazy or if you think it’s not worth the effort, then the whole point of going under the knife is a wasted exercise.

Don’t put on additional weight: Your knees support your entire weight, so don’t give them additional strain by packing on the pounds. Eat sensibly and exercise according to your doctor’s instructions so that you don’t gain weight after the surgery.

Monitor your medical conditions: While not a life-threatening procedure, knee replacement surgery does come with a few risks like the formation of blood clots, infection of the incision, or a nerve injury. Call your doctor at the slightest feeling of discomfort to ensure that there’s nothing to worry about.

Refrain from intense activities: While it’s true that your knees are sort of brand new, there are limitations to what you can do with these “replaced” joints. Any activity that puts a large amount of stress on your knees is not advisable – like running and sports like tennis or squash. You’ll probably be able to walk, exercise on a stationery bike, swim, golf, and ski though.

Stay positive: The worst part of any surgery is the pain you feel immediately after you wake up in the recovery room. Knowing what to expect and being ready to deal with it is an important part of the recovery process. Accept that there will be pain and that it will go away with time. Staying positive and not griping about your condition go a long way in speeding up the recovery process.

This article is contributed by Sarah Scrafford, who regularly writes on the topic of Radiology Technician Classes. She invites your questions, comments and freelancing job inquiries at her email address: sarah.scrafford25@gmail.com.

Thanksgivings Past and Present

2008-11-27T05:55:00.003-06:00

As this year's Healthy Choice turkey dinner awaits in my freezer and the organizers of Chicago's Thanksgiving Day parade prepare for their 8:00 a.m. step-off, I have decided to rerun last year's post about Thanksgiving memories. This has been a trying year, but I take comfort in reviewing Thanksgivings past and present, joyous and not, in the hope that next year will be better. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Here is what I wrote last year:

"I remember the hot kitchen, the wonderful smells, my grandma in her white "cooking dress" making sure that everything was just right. I remember the spotless white linen tablecloth and napkins, the polished silver, the gleaming china and crystal, the place settings arranged just right, no fork out of place.I remember the small family gathered about, just five of us, my father silent as usual, my mother trying to be helpful despite her barely-disguised dislike of her mother-in-law. I remember my brother impatiently waiting for the food, eager to escape to a more active atmosphere somewhere, perhaps a ball game with his friends if the weather was good. I remember sneaking just one more chocolate from the Whitman’s Sampler box that was a holiday tradition. I had no fear of "spoiling" my gigantic appetite when I was surrounded by such great smells!

"I remember my own little apartment kitchen, my husband struggling to cook everything on the tiny stove and in the tiny oven while I tried to find places for all the mismatched plates on the long, makeshift table with the slightly stained gold permanent press tablecloth. The napkins were paper.I remember the crowd of ten or twelve crammed into the little apartment, mostly the single patrons of my husband’s bar who had nowhere else to go for the holiday. Family Thanksgivings had been a tradition in my husband’s family, so this was an important day for him. I was as inept at cooking then as I am now, but he did it enthusiastically. Most of the guests were men, and they ate every crumb of food. We seldom had leftovers in those years. A few guests fell asleep immediately after dinner, usually on the floor if any space was available there.

"We continued this Thanksgiving dinner tradition for several years after we moved to our house nearby. It was not a large house, but we filled it with good food and holiday joy for many of the same guests, and a few more.

"I remember the year when we finally ran out of friends to invite for Thanksgiving dinner; everyone had a family and lived in the suburbs by then, while we were still a city family of two. We made reservations for dinner at the Signature Room at the top of the John Hancock Center. It seemed very expensive to my frugal husband, but he ultimately enjoyed the experience. We ate so much at the sumptuous buffet that we couldn’t eat much of the small turkey provided for us, so we took it home (as advertised and recommended). Jules made turkey soup and turkey sandwiches enough to last at least a week. I think we got our money’s worth that year.

"I remember our last Thanksgiving together in 1999. It was also my last Thanksgiving with my mother, who was eighty-eight years old by then and living in a retirement condo in Northfield, Minnesota. My nephew and his wife cooked dinner at their house, and two grand-nieces were there as well. The food was fine, but I remember little about it. My mother lived on until this year, and I always sent her flowers for Thanksgiving. However, I didn’t join her in Northfield for the holiday again.

"I remember mostly that my husband was not feeling well on Thanksgiving, 1999, that he left immediately after dinner to return to the motel to rest. That was very uncharacteristic of him; he was usually the life of the party. I was very worried. He seemed to feel better later, but it wasn’t long after our return home that his pancreatic cancer was diagnosed. He would die in March of the following year.

"I remember later Thanksgivings with a friend’s family, including her husband and her two daughters. That tradition, begun when Jules was still alive, ended when one of my friends’ daughters moved away and her parents began to visit her for Thanksgiving. I understood.

"This year [2007], I’ll enjoy my Lean Cuisine turkey dinner, watch parades on television, read, write, and feel content. I may even open a bottle of Chardonnay. I’ve come to terms with the changes brought by aging and the passing of time and loved ones, and it’s all right. However, I am happy to remember those Thanksgivings from the past and many more, the good and the bad. Life goes on."

Co9pyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne

The Agony of Uncertainty

2008-11-24T07:32:00.003-06:00

Have you ever felt like your world is crashing down around you? Unfortunately, that's the way I've been feeling, which explains the decreased frequency of my posts here. My recovery from knee replacement surgery doesn't seem to be going especially well (too much pain, too little movement), but other matters are affecting me more.

I have a moving date: January 9. That's the day I'm supposed to move from my condo to The Clare at Water Tower lifetime care community. I have an estimate from a mover. I have tentative plans to get more help from an organizer and downsizer. So what's wrong? My condo has not sold, despite price reductions. If it doesn't sell by the end of the year, I will probably not have enough money to pay the entrance fee at the Clare. I have big decisions to make.

Do I give up my plan and dream of moving to The Clare? I hate that idea. Can I borrow money? Acccording to my financial planner, I can't get a home equity loan on a condo which is on the market, even though it's mortgage-free. Will the Clare help me with a payment plan, or arrange a loan? I haven't been able to get an answer to that question.

I have less than a month to solve these problems; then I'll be off to visit relatives for Christmas, so things must be settled by then. Help!

Copyright 2008 by Marlys Marshall Styne