Finding the New Me

April 17, 2016 - Finding the New Me

Spring is here and life is fine.  I’ve been extremely busy, with all the activities I enjoy (including a wonderful visit from Elisa and Sylvie).  At the same time, I’ve been plagued by a nagging sense that something is not quite settled.  I’m just now realizing that I don’t quite know who I am and that discovering the new me is going to be a long process. 

Miss Sylvie helping Grandma Robin

After more than 32 years of married life, I have to find my way back to my identity as a single woman once again.  I’m certainly not the person I was in my 20s and early 30s.  I’m okay with daily living, i.e. being alone in the house, preparing meals for one (much easier!), managing finances, etc.  But how will I feel about traveling abroad alone, which I did quite often before I got married?  To challenge myself, I’m planning a trip to Europe on my own.  I’ll be splitting my time between Budapest and Vienna, two cities I’ve longed to explore for many years.  Now that I am free to travel again, I hesitated a bit before making my reservations, but my love of new experiences won out in the end.

I’m indulging my sense of adventure on a much smaller scale by making solo trips in areas of DC that I’m not familiar with.  Yesterday, I focused on the area of Southeast DC along the Anacostia River near Elliott’s childhood home.  At the end of Pennsylvania Avenue, I found Barney Circle, where he said the streetcars would turn around.  The neighborhood is just starting to see some long overdue rehabilitation.  I spent some time traipsing along the Anacostia Riverwalk, a bike and walking trail that’s a recent addition to the Southeast landscape.  It wasn’t quite what I had expected.  From Barney Circle, I started down an abandoned road, which led past the back of a parking lot for RFK Stadium to a wide strip of concrete.  Aside from a couple of joggers and walkers, the area was pretty deserted.  Through the scraggly bushes lining the trail, I caught a glimpse of the river and the Sousa Bridge.  Several crew teams were rowing past.  Soon, however, the river disappeared from sight and the path joined M Street, where I had a great view of highway entrance and exit ramps.  While Elliott wasn’t walking beside me today, I felt a kinship with him and wondered what the area looked like in the 1910s and 1920s when he might have roamed through there looking for adventure. 

The Anacostia River and the Sousa Bridge

A section of the Anacostia Riverwalk

He often spoke of the Washington Navy Yard, where his father worked for many years.  As a result, I was excited when Google maps on my phone indicated that the Navy Yard was up ahead on M Street. I was hoping to get inside to take a quick look but the gates were firmly locked.  Slightly disappointed, I decided to take advantage of the perfect spring day and continue my stroll into the Barracks Row district.  The barracks are still used by the Marines, but the area has seen a renaissance of restaurants, cafés, and quirky shops.  With the beautiful weekend weather, the sidewalks were overflowing with mostly younger people and their four-legged friends.   

The Navy Yard was all closed up.

I'll have to tell Matt about this donut shop on 8th Street SE.

Ambar serves Balkan cuisine.

Quite on the spur of the moment, I treated myself to lunch at Ambar, a Balkan restaurant I’ve wanted to try for a long time.  It’s definitely worth a return visit with a group of friends so we can sample the many small plates on the menu.  I ended up at the Eastern Market metro after making a loop of about 3 miles from my starting point.  It reinforces my belief that walking is the best way to get to know a city and I look forward to many long walks in Budapest and Vienna. 

Today, it’s back to the glass studio.  I’ll include some photos of my latest work in my next post. 

Catching Up

March 31, 2016 – Catching Up

So, how am I doing?  I think I’m doing just fine, thank you.  The adjustment to life on my own hasn’t been difficult at all.  Sure, there are plenty of times when I think of Elliott, but he had gradually receded from so many of my everyday activities over the past several years that the change doesn’t feel very abrupt.  I’m still experiencing a slight sense of disorientation.  My sense of time is a bit warped, which is understandable, as I lost three or four months out of my “normal” life while Elliott was in and out of the hospital and then receiving hospice care at home. 

During the month of March, there were countless details to attend to – updating accounts, contacting government agencies, etc.  All of this took much more time than I ever imagined and I’m not finished yet.  Social Security and the government’s Office of Personnel Management operate at an incredibly slow pace, which is creating some stress for me as I wait for my income to resume. 

Life is simpler in many ways now.  Meals don’t require nearly as much planning or preparation.  At first, I was eating mainly salads, grilled veggies, and the occasional piece of fish or chicken, i.e. nothing fancy.  Lately, though, I’ve started to miss more elaborate cooking.  It may be time to inaugurate a weekly dinner party for friends. 

My family and friends have given me tremendous support and comfort as I make this major transition in my life.  My calendar is filled with lunches and dinners out with.  I’ve already made one trip up to New York to see Elisa, Christian and Sylvie and we plan to get together at least once a month.  In addition, we have Facetime visits nearly every day.  

I’m back to Pilates and Zumba classes at the gym, back to my art history class at George Mason, and back to the Workhouse to finish up some fused glass projects.  Once I start working in the studio, I lose track of time.  The hours fly by, and when I finally call it quits for the day, I think back to Elliott and how he turned to art as a full-time occupation after he retired from the government.  Once again, he’s serving as my role model. 

After postponing travel for so long, I’d like to start planning some trips. I hope to get to Europe sometime in 2016.  Budapest, southern Spain, and Ireland are high on my list of places to visit.  Of course, there are also places in the U.S. that interest me, such as New Mexico, Colorado, and Vermont.  When I was single, I did a lot of solo traveling so I don’t mind going off on my own.  However, if anyone is interested in joining me, please let me know. 

Cherry blossoms at Meadowlark Gardens in Vienna, Virginia

Locally, there’s plenty to see and do in the DC area.  I had a very enjoyable day strolling through Meadowlark Botanical Gardens and viewing the cherry blossoms with my friend Kathy last week.  Earlier today, I took a long walk in the Capitol Hill area with my step-grandson, Darren, passing several DC landmarks on our way from Union Station to Eastern Market.  In addition, I spent a delightful day in Georgetown a couple of weeks ago in the company of Elisa, Christian, Sylvie and friends Caroline and Brian.  We had a unique dining experience at a Chinese tea house called Ching Ching Cha where we sat on the floor, which was perfect for Sylvie! 

Finally, I find myself indulging in compulsive de-cluttering and organizing around the house.  The goal is to get rid of as much extraneous stuff as possible.  I’m tackling one room at a time and at the moment, I’m dealing with one of the biggest challenges – the office where we had multiple overflowing file cabinets and several large boxes filled with “important” papers.  I’ve already made a lot of progress sorting through the thirty-plus years of documents related to medical care, finances, appliances we no longer own, etc.  Probably 80% of the papers ended up in the recycle pile or shred pile.  As soon as I can find someone strong enough to help, I’m going to haul our 5-drawer file cabinet out to the dump.  Of course, I need to master the art of electronic record keeping to avoid a future build-up of documents. 

Rest assured that I have not fallen into a state of depression.  I’m keeping Elliott’s spirit alive by embracing life and being grateful for every moment. 

And now, I must go to bed since I’m subbing tomorrow.

Remembering Elliott

March 8, 2016 – Remembering Elliott

at home on February 19, 2016

One week ago, we held a memorial service for Elliott at our synagogue, Beth El Hebrew Congregation in Alexandria, Virginia.  The previous day, when planning the service with Elisa and the rabbi, I initially didn’t think I’d be able to give a eulogy.  I’d never given one before and I doubted that I’d be able to retain my composure during such an emotional time.  Then the rabbi asked me to tell him about Elliott.  That wasn’t hard for me at all.  There is so much I can tell others about the remarkable man I was married to for more than 32 years.  When I was finished talking, the rabbi said, “That’s exactly what you should say at the service.”  So, with Elisa’s help, I stayed up late and drafted the following remarks.  When it came time to speak before the assembled family members and friends, Elisa accompanied me to the bimah and stood beside me as I spoke these words:

Thank you all so much for being here today to remember Elliott.  He was a very special man, special to so many people, in so many different ways.  To me Elliott was friend, lover, husband, my Viking hero, and my role model.  I’ve never known anyone who embraced life more than he did. 

From an early age, he had a tremendous sense of adventure – stealing watermelons out of the farmer’s field in DC at age six, playing hide and seek among the tombstones in Congressional Cemetery.  When he was 14, he told his mother he was going out to take a walk and ended up hitch-hiking to Florida.  In his early 40s, he took a government position in Paris although he didn’t speak a word of French and instantly fell in love with the city as his taxi from the airport sped across the Place de la Concorde. 

At age 71, he had mapped out his retirement plans to spend his remaining years painting in the South of France.  But he quickly changed course when he met a much younger woman standing in line at Orly Airport.  Little did he know that he’d be married three months later and would be starting a new family. 

But Elliott was also a very practical person.  He prided himself on his problem-solving ability.  He’d never hire someone to do a job he could do himself – even if he shouldn’t, such as replacing the ceiling light fixture in the kitchen, which resulted in a fall off the ladder and drilling through his hand.  In typical fashion, he cleaned up all the blood and then drove himself to the hospital before I came home from work. 

You could also see his practical, analytical mind in his art.  While continuing his budget work for the U.S. government in Paris in the 1950s, he was also studying painting at a French art academy.  His art would later evolve in the direction of geometric abstract.  He carefully planned out his paintings with meticulous measurements and mathematically based patterns. 

Part of the secret to Elliott’s long and happy life was never acting his age.  Elliott never felt old.  He always had friends decades younger, especially during the time he taught at the Corcoran School of Art.  In his 70s, he was driving the pre-school carpool and in his 80s and 90s, he was traveling around the world.  When he turned 99, I finally convinced him to stop climbing up the ladder to clean out the gutters.  But the day before his 100^th birthday, he was out there mowing the lawn in 90-something degree weather.  However, he loved asking strangers to guess his age and found it hilarious when they were wrong by a couple of decades – he even told a waitress that Elisa was his wife when they were out having dinner one night. 

Elliott always valued his family and friends.  His relationships brought him great joy throughout his life.  Even as he came to terms with his own physical decline over the past several months, he took special delight in his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  He leaves us all with wonderful memories of someone who lived life to the fullest.   

I Married a Vampire

February 5, 2016 – I Married a Vampire

So much has happened in the past couple of weeks that I hardly know where to begin.  First of all, though, I must say that it’s delightful to be at home during daylight hours for the first time in quite a while.  It seems that I’ve spent most of the past week or so at nursing homes, hospitals, doctors’ offices, and medical labs.  In short, life has been one crisis after another.  And as for the title of this post, the vampire reference will soon become clear.

When I last posted on January 25, Elliott had recovered from pneumonia but was in the ICU with internal bleeding.  Fortunately, tests helped identify the source of the bleeding and doctors were able to stop it.  We were relieved that he was ready to leave the hospital on January 27.  However, Elliott was not at all happy to be going to Fairfax Nursing Center rather than coming home.  He was eager to build up his strength with physical and occupational therapy and everyone has been impressed by his progress.  Needless to say, I visited him often.

Earlier this week, while still in the nursing facility, he started radiation therapy at Fairfax Hospital for his throat tumor.  However, two days ago, routine tests showed that his blood count had dropped significantly once again.  The radiation oncologist conferred with hematologist and decided to go ahead with the radiation treatment yesterday morning.  IN the afternoon, Elliott had an appointment with the hematologist, who told us that Elliott needed another blood transfusion.  So it was off to the lab and then to Fairfax Hospital.  I stayed with him until around 9 p.m., at which point he wasn’t looking very good.  (Low blood count means he isn’t getting enough oxygen into his system, and he hadn’t gotten any rest at all yesterday.)  But after getting two units of fresh blood overnight, he looked and felt much better this morning.  He even felt well enough to go for his radiation treatment before I took him back to the nursing home.

Since it is likely that his blood count will fall again, further transfusions will probably be necessary.  Of course, frequent blood transfusions don’t seem to be a good long-term solution to this medical problem.  However, the priority for now is to enable him to get through the six weeks of radiation therapy.  Once that’s complete (and the tumor is gone – we hope), the doctors can focus on getting his bone marrow to produce more of those yummy red blood cells.  In the meantime, Elliott will remain a vampire. 

As if life weren’t crazy enough with all the ups and downs of Elliott’s medical condition, my mother had her own health crisis last Friday.  The first indication that something was wrong came Friday morning when she reported to one of the aides in her assisted living facility that she couldn’t see out of her left eye.  I got a phone call from Greenspring as I getting ready to bring some clean clothes over to Elliott at the nursing center.  Katie was her usual cheery self when I took her to the ER.  In fact, she kept asking where we were going and why we were going there.  When the doctor asked how she was, she smiled broadly and replied, “Just fine!”  Her main concern was getting lunch.  I finally went to the café in the building and brought back a tuna sandwich.  Once she’d eaten that, she asked, “What’s for dessert?” to everyone who came to check on her.

Katie had several tests, including a CT scan, and was admitted then to Alexandria Hospital for further testing and to see a neurologist.  As soon as she got settled into her hospital bed, the first thing she said to the nurse was “I’m ready for lunch.”  I reminded her about the tuna sandwich but she insisted she was hungry.  A tray appeared a few minutes later.  Katie ate a few bites of the manicotti and all of the chocolate mousse.  Since I was starving by this point, I gobbled up the rest of the manicotti, which was quite delicious. 

My mother stayed overnight and was ready to be discharged on Saturday afternoon.  According to her discharge report, she had a stroke and there was narrowing of the carotid artery.  Of course, we need to follow up so I spent a good deal of time this week setting up appointments for her to see her primary care physician, a neurologist, and an ophthalmologist.  As strokes go, this one was quite mild, and she’s already starting to regain some of the vision in her left eye.  She’s happily back to her familiar routine at Greenspring. 

As you can see, the past couple of weeks have been filled with surprises.  Each time I think I have a good grip on the situation, something new happens.  Thank goodness my years of motherhood and teaching helped me develop some skill in dealing with uncertainty and sudden change. 

Out of necessity, I will be simplifying my life.  Since cloning myself is not an option, I’ll be attempting to fit in fewer activities, and I’ll be much more selective about how I spend any free time.  I’ll get to my afternoon art history class whenever possible.  Other forms of exercise will take the place of my morning Zumba and Pilates classes.  And Sunday afternoon will remain devoted to fused glass.  At this time of year, I’m quite content to stay at home in the evening, as long as I have a good book to keep me company.  As for cooking, one of my favorite activities, it will be nutritious but not ambitious.  I’ve already warned Elliott not to complain about leftovers.  What else is important?  Keeping in touch with family and friends by phone, email, Facebook, blog, and occasional in-person visits.  Of course, sleep is essential, and I’m committed to getting at least eight hours a night. 

Numerous people have generously asked what they can do to help.  At first, I couldn’t come up with any concrete ideas, but now I have a suggestion:  homemade soup. We’ll be eating lunch and dinner at home for several weeks, and soup would be the ideal comfort food.  Elliott and I like all kinds of soup – vegetable, bean, chicken, etc. and we’d appreciate soup (or any food offering) you’d be kind enough to prepare for us.  Anything we can’t eat right away will go into the freezer.  I’ll return containers as soon as possible. 

So, in conclusion, less than twenty-four hours ago, when I was driving back from the hospital, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  I feel much better now.  I’m remembering to breathe, and I’m ready to take each moment as it comes. 

More Ups and Downs

January 25, 2016 – More Ups and Downs

In the past twenty-four hours, there have been more changes in Elliott’s condition.  He sounded very good on Sunday morning when I spoke to him.  In fact, he told me that his nurse had mentioned the possibility of a discharge that very same day.  While I was delighted to hear of the improvement in Elliott’s health, this news sent me into a slight state of panic.  Our driveway wasn’t in terrible condition (it had been shoveled the previous day while the snow was still falling), but given the state of the snow-covered roads throughout the area, I wondered how I was ever going to get out to the hospital to pick him up.  Of course, we could arrange for a patient transport vehicle to bring him back home from the hospital.  But assuming they were able to get down our street, they’d have to toss Elliott over a 3-foot tall, 3-foot wide wall of snow when they reached our driveway. 

Of course I wanted Elliott to come home, but would the hospital really discharge him today?  Maybe he’d misunderstood the nurse, I thought, as I pulled on layers of warm clothing and snow gear – ski overalls I’d bought in our French village when we moved into our unheated house in the winter of 1984, waterproof boots that had belonged to Matt when he was in middle school.  I got my exercise for the day clearing the remaining layer of snow from the driveway and demolishing the Great Wall of Snow at the street.  An hour or so later, I staggered back into the house, sweaty and exhausted, but pleased with my accomplishment.

All seemed to be going well.  I’d be ready to welcome Elliott back home if he were discharged today.  However, a phone call from Elliott around 2 p.m. informed me that the entire situation had changed.  In a calm voice, he related how he had fainted a short time earlier and that there was evidence of intestinal bleeding.  Tests revealed a low platelet level in his blood, and he was going to receive another transfusion.  In addition, he was being transferred to a unit where he’d receive a higher level of care. 

We spoke again on the phone a couple of hours later.  He was in his new room and was already receiving a platelet transfusion.  Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to have anything to eat or drink.  Nevertheless, he was in good spirits, voicing his hope that he’d be able to come home soon, start exercising again, and begin his radiation treatments. 

Since then, I’ve had phone conversations with several of his doctors.  This type of intestinal bleeding sometimes stops on its own.  If not – well, we’ll just have to wait and see.  I spoke to Elliott again this morning, and he sounded optimistic about a positive outcome.  If travel conditions permit, I’ll be visiting him at some point today. 

Thanks to all of you for your continued love and support. 

It's a White-Out!

January 23, 2016 – It’s a White-Out! 

  

I’m sitting at home in a cozy pair of pink plaid flannel pajamas, looking out my windows at the swirling snow.  We already have at least 18 inches on the ground, and the snow is still falling.  Unlike my neighbors, I am not going out to start shoveling my driveway.  In fact, I have no plans to leave the comfort of my house.  I’m perfectly content to wait until our trusty snow removal crew appears, whenever that may be.  In the meantime, I have plenty of books, food and wine. 

Earlier in the week, as I listened to the weather forecasts for a major weekend snow storm, I was so worried about what we’d do if we lost power since Elliott’s oxygen concentrator runs on electricity.  As it turns out, there’s no need to worry.  You see, with his exquisite sense of timing, Elliott managed to get himself admitted to Fairfax Hospital shortly before the blizzard began.  Actually, his latest medical crisis started a few days ago, less than 12 hours after I posted my previous blog post.  Although he seemed to be feeling fine on Tuesday evening, he began experiencing sudden breathing difficulties shortly after he got up on Wednesday morning.  His blood oxygen level dipped frighteningly low and I couldn’t get it back to an acceptable level.  He was extremely agitated, and after consulting his primary care physician by phone, I had no choice but to call 911. 

Our wonderful Fairfax County EMTs took Elliott to Fairfax Hospital’s emergency room where he was diagnosed with pneumonia and congestive heart failure.  This development took us by surprise because we’d been monitoring his weight and fluid retention and had no indication that anything was amiss.  Fortunately, he was able to start intravenous antibiotics immediately, while we were waiting for all of the test results to come in.  Sitting there beside him in the ER, I had a feeling of déjà vu because this is the same scenario we faced last April.  This time, however, his overall health was more fragile to begin with.  We weren’t at all certain he’d be able to pull through this and we had some sobering and heart-rending talks over the course of the next few hours. 

Early in the afternoon that day, he was taken up to the Acute Pulmonary Unit.  When I left the hospital around 5 pm, I was drained emotionally and consumed by worry.  I fell asleep hoping I wouldn’t get a phone call from the hospital in the middle of the night.  As soon as I got up the next morning, I spoke to him on the phone.  Although his voice was very raspy, I was relieved to hear that he sounded better.  When I got over to the hospital, I found him looking and feeling much better than I expected.  He was still unable to eat and drink (only ice chips were allowed) and was hooked up to IVs and high-flow oxygen.  He told me that his pulmonologist had already been in to see him early on Thursday morning and gave him a very encouraging report.  While I was there, the cardiologist came to examine him and echoed the positive sentiments. 

On Friday, I got to the hospital before the anticipated blizzard began.  I was pleased to see that Elliott really looked and sounded like himself again.  However, he needed another blood transfusion on Friday afternoon to increase his red blood cell count.  Since I won’t be able to get to the hospital for a couple of days (it’s still snowing and it may be a while before the roads are cleared), we’re staying in touch by phone.  He’s eager to get moving again and was hoping for a visit from the physical therapist this weekend.  Of course, his radiation treatments, which were originally scheduled to begin next Monday, will be postponed for now.  All of his doctors are coordinating his care and we’re confident that he’ll be able to begin treatment in a week or two.  I still don’t know when he’ll be coming home. 

While this setback was a shock, I can only marvel at Elliott’s remarkable ability to overcome this latest challenge. 

We're Still Here!

January 19, 2016 – We’re Still Here!

I want to start by reassuring everyone that Elliott and I have not relocated to another planet.  We are still here, and expect to be here for quite some time.  I’ve been feeling too overwhelmed to keep up with the blog, but I’ve continued to put thoughts into words on scraps of paper which, until recently, were scattered around the house or stuffed into my purse.  Phrases seem to pop into my head when I’m waking up in the morning, or taking a shower, or driving along Route 50.  However, whenever I considered writing a post, I found that I lacked the ability to concentrate for a long enough period of time.  As I remember telling my students on numerous occasions, writing is hard work.  It takes a lot of time, effort, and focus – which I haven’t had lately.  Honestly, I’ve been so distracted that I haven’t accomplished much of anything, with the exception of reading – six books finished since the beginning of January. 

Since mid-December, Elliott and I have been dealing with a new reality.  First there was the waiting and imagining, and trying to avoid fantasizing about the worst possible scenario.  In addition, while we were waiting for more information about the tumor on his larynx, Elliott was facing a second medical problem, i.e. severe breathing difficulty that was robbing him of his energy and the ability to do more than lie in bed all day.  The reason for this drastic change in his condition remained a mystery.  

After several tests in late December and early January, we finally got some answers.  On January 6, blood tests showed that Elliott was suffering from severe anemia, which accounted for his shortness of breath.  In this type of anemia, his bone marrow wasn’t producing enough oxygen-carrying red blood cells.  The hematologist recommended a transfusion of two units of blood.  After Elliott received the transfusion in the hospital a week ago, he started to feel a significant improvement in his breathing and energy level.  In the future, he will probably receive injections of a hormone medication to stimulate the production of red blood cells. 

As for the tumor, the biopsy results came back on January 7, and they showed that it was indeed cancer.  We met with the radiation oncologist the day after Elliott’s blood transfusion and discussed various treatment options.  After careful consideration, Elliott chose to go ahead with a full course of radiation therapy, which will have about an 80% chance of completely curing the cancer. 

Last week, radiation therapists made Elliott a custom face and neck mask that he’ll use during his treatments.  Next Monday, January 25, he will start the six-week course of targeted radiation.  During that time, he’ll be going to Fairfax Hospital every weekday.  The possible side effects should be minimal, and include sore throat, skin irritation and fatigue.  He’ll also be receiving speech therapy services to ensure that the radiation to his throat doesn’t affect his ability to swallow properly. 

This week, before the daily radiation treatments begin, we’re enjoying a bit of a break from medical appointments.  In contrast to a few weeks ago, our mood now is quite hopeful.  Before we reached this point, the stress of the uncertainty, plus Elliott’s increased dependency, had turned me into a person I hardly recognized.  From one minute to the next, I could go from feeling numb to feeling on the verge of a meltdown.  There were some really dark times when I couldn’t help screaming – and then I felt so guilty afterwards.  Mostly, though, I built a self-protective bubble around myself to avoid acknowledging the fear and worry and the very real possibility of loss.  I guess it was a defense mechanism that allowed me to go through the motions of everyday activities without falling apart.  Now I’m feeling an enormous sense of relief as well as hope for a brighter future. 

Elliott shares this positive outlook.  He has faced innumerable challenges in his 103 years, and time after time, he has summoned the will and strength to tackle the obstacles in his path.  I have no doubt that he’s ready to face this latest test.  I’ll keep you posted on his progress in the coming days.