Well, pressure mapping has taken a back seat for a more pressing de-tail. (I’m holding up my LAUGHTER card.)
Ever hear of someone wit SCI bending their coccyx while seated? Now, you have. That’s what I did. After sitting in a wheelchair for 36+ years with osteoporosis, it was found that the stress pressure on my spine had bowed my coccyx, making a posterior misalignment. Then, when getting into bed the evening after being bumped and slung around in a transport van to a doctor’s appointment, I felt my tailbone move further out of line, to the left, to the left (as Beyoncé sings); and it bulged. Ouch!
Although my SCI doctor suspected a stress fracture, the previous week’s x rays had shown no spinal breaks. Now, with the pain from a new issue, she advised me to get a cat scan which would definitely show even the least fracture, and the condition of my tailbone. In addition, I had my sister take pictures of my out-standing coccyx to send to my doctor. (My doctor’s nurse and I have become really close.) Thus, began a week’s bed rest for a suspected deep tissue breakdown that she (my doctor) miraculously spotted on my fanny pic! There were 2 problems with the doctor’s orders.
The first problem was: I couldn’t sit up; much less get into a car! The only solution to have my condition checked was to call an ambulance for a non-emergency transport.
The second problem was: no insurance. Digging deep wasn’t going to help. This non- emergency screamed, “Emergency plastic card!” $714.86 worth! Again, OUCH! But, there was a silver lining in this cloud.
Our local ambulance is through Northstar Paramedic Services or Northstar Emergency Medical Services (NEMS). Weston Bolen, an AEMT, and Ben Patrick, an EMT, arrived in the Basic Life Support (BLS) ambulance. (To forestall assumptions of doom and gloom, I had already called my nearest neighbors to inform them that it was merely a matter with my butt, bû-tá, derriére, badonkadonk, arse.)
Anyway, these two young men could not have been more professional. They were compassionate and understanding of my directions to circumvent added pain from my disability, gentle in the lifts, transfers, and rolling transports on the Ferno stretcher, while being patient and congenial during the wait.
I enjoyed them so much that I wanted to invite them in for dinner, but I couldn’t sit up, and they were still on duty. Wes and Ben, thank you! Help out of your near and/or dear pieces can assist you and your family to come back out side of all your main anxiousness or even you can continue it for long as there is no side effect have been reported from the users of this product as yet. buy cialis online choose here
The bad news is: the cat scan showed nothing different than the previous xrays showed. AND, after 2 ½ weeks of bed rest, my coccyx bowed further. How can that be!
In its 10th year, I’m highlighting the best SCI site ever: Apparelyzed! (I have it listed under my Blogroll as “SCI Specific,” and its link will always be included in my Wednesday Weekly newsletter, “Chariot Notes.” A click will take you there.) With its 19,000+ worldwide membership, every nationality, religion or not, profession, orientation, and mentality is represented in its diversity. Simon, the creator and mastermind, ROCKS and rolls, like the rest of us.
I am a fairly new member. If you, a family member or friend have any type spinal cord injury (SCI), you will want to take a look at its offerings: varied forums to exchange pertinent aspects of SCI, personal discussions on the emotional and physical frustrations of living with a SCI, current research for a cure, explanations/definitions of SCI involvement, and just an understanding place to vent. You can also send private messages to other members or go to the chat room. It’s free and moderated daily.
I have met a lot of talented writers and bloggers there. Along with a few member’s blogs, today’s post is a short excerpt from Big D, a disturbed mind compiling his twisted-sci-fi-wheelchair-combat-post-epocalyptic-world-still-evolving short story. Brace yourself!
“Due to globalization and a deadly contagion that quickly spread out of control, billions of humans have died, and earth is now a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Very few humans are left, and the ones that are have been afflicted with a spinal virus that paralyzes anywhere from the neck down. The only remaining humans are all in wheelchairs. Some are paras, some are quads, and resources are scarce.
These survivors exist in two different colonies, and war has begun using power chairs equipped with treads and machine guns…sip and puff missile launchers…armored chairs and Kevlar backrests…wheels with flamethrowers on them…handicap accessible fortresses, and towers with elevators…suicide bombing service dogs…catheter rations…oxycodone by the thousands…electric chairs for torture/interrogation…gillie chairs for camouflage with sniper rifles attached to the side guards; an evolving breed of wheelchair ninjas.”
Aren’t you glad to be alive NOW! Can you imagine these futuristic encampments with turbo-boosted wheelchair convoys lead by Terminator, Ironman, Rambo, and GI Jane? Get me out of there; unless they’re protecting me!
What a concept! What an imagination!
Here are a few varied-themed blogs from the APPARELYZED site:
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I’m preoccupied with W-A-Y overdue SCI physical examinations and pressure mapping for the best cushion and wheelchair for whatever ails me, as well as getting this website completed. Minimally, I got it up-and-running for weekly posts; now, I’m putting on the finishing touches for you.
I may be silent for a bit, but will be back with a nibble from a crazy friend’s sci-fi novel of a wheelchair revolution, along with a few other blogs you may enjoy!
For now, click around my musings for something that interests you, and tell me what you’re thinking.
The first of January before kindergarten resumed, I invited a playmate over for my 6 year old grand niece. Upon Mac’s arrival, North Hope gave a narrated tour of my home. For the next hour-and-a-half, they shared a couple of their favorite toys, wrote their names and drew pictures with chalk on my driveway, played indoor croquet then, took turns hobbling around using the mallets as cruthes. They stopped for a snack and, afterwards, went their separate ways—one on his Leapfrog, the other on her Kindle.
While the grandmother and I were talking, I overheard an unkind tone in my grand niece’s voice. Her guest had asked if he could play the ‘Angry Birds’ game on her Kindle. She angrily said, “No! I’m watching Rapunzel.”
I intervened.
After her 3 interruptions of “but” while I tried to explain sharing, I said, “North, your ‘buts’ are excuses. Listen with your ears and your heart. Mac is about to leave. Put your movie on pause and let him play the game for a minute. You can finish watching it after he leaves.”
She countered, “But, my heart doesn’t want to.”
That’s not what I wanted to hear, but it’s all I needed to hear: A heart speaking its truth.
To North, I said: “Sometimes, the result of getting what we want right now is harder on us than the temporary sacrifice.”
And to Mac: “I’m sorry, Mac. It’s her Kindle, and she has chosen not to share.”
As he left, he spied a baby lizard in my rock garden and ran in to ask North if she wanted to see it. Offense forgotten, they excitedly ran out together to share nature. However, it is always important to consult with the physician or stand in a queue at the levitra without prescription chemist.
I am a firm believer in allowing everyone, especially children, the choice to do what their heart dictates. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not propounding to follow your own will as did Freud and Watson, and I’m not trying to be Dr. Spock or even PC, unless it’s polite consideration—simple decency—compounded with cooperation.
As children, if we’re not taught to be considerate of another’s person, feelings, and property, and how to cooperate in action and deed, as adults we’ll be irritable, hateful rascals to live with; much worse to care for with a SCI or some other life interruption.
How often do we do things our heart doesn’t want to do and are riddled with resentments thereafter? The service rendered is half-hearted (usually with tangible attitude), and the recipient senses the inconvenience. No one is blessed. Everyone suffers!
Whether you’re disabled or able-bodied, do what you do—profession, family responsibilities, errands, exercise, church, charity, or care-giving—because it’s in your heart to do it; not because someone expects, requests, requires, or needs it.
If you find yourself murmuring about any of the above or accusing someone else for your unhappiness or their lack of appreciating you, you may want to re-evaluate your expectations, intentions, and motivations for doing whatever you’ve enlisted for or agreed to do.
In this case, martyrdom is self-inflicted. It will never meet an expectation of appreciation, an intention to gain attention, favor, and praise or a motivation for approbation.
Contentment and peace come from a heart given to what it gives and does, freely; not from a heart riddled with holes from the worm of resentment.
Recently, I was reminded of the #1 Rule stressed in rehab: ischial pressure relief. After making a round-trip in someone else’s car to visit family, an hour away, my right ischium screamed for relief. (My car is fifteen years old, so we stick close to home.) Miraculously, this was the first breakdown in my thirty-six+ years of disability.
Lately, I’ve been experiencing nicks and scratches on my tail bone/coccyx when sitting wrong on the toilet seat, and bruising under an ishium while dragging my bony maroney on and off. This first week of 2013, I’ve been playing bed tag—2 hours in and 3 hours out—everyday, to ward off a decubitus ulcer from one of these bruises.
With this foremost on my mind, and weighing heavily on my buttocks, there are several techniques to relieve ischial pressure. Each is to be performed for 60 seconds, every 60 minutes. Here are three of them:
The first is the easiest and most independent. It can be done by a quadriplegic, because I did this one until three years ago, but all paraplegics use it: the push-up lift.
Using your hands to grip your tires or arm rests if you use them, lift your buttocks off your cushion. (For independence’s sake, I now brake my wheelchair parallel to my bed, place an overstuffed pillow on my bed, and lay over it.)
Both of the following require the assistance of an experienced second person. Notes are extremely common for men that are seen http://cute-n-tiny.com/cute-animals/little-leopard-cub/ buy generic levitra with impotence issue can become uncertain of them and avoid intimate situations with the partner.
For the second technique, bend forward into someone’s lap. They support you and slightly pull you toward them from under your armpits.
For the third, someone reclines your braked wheelchair backward into their lap.
Remember the acronym RIP (relieve iscial pressure)—every hour, for one minute.
I have three cats, but this is about “the boys,” my two male felines, Fred Astaire and Laptop.
Fred was a feral that I domesticated. Intentionally, I didn’t use the word “tamed” because his first year in captivity he eat through my screened-in porch, four times! I decided it was cruel (and expensive) trying to make him an indoor cat. Weather permitting, I let him out once-a-week.
Two years later, I saved Laptop from getting euthanized. By three-years-of-age, he weighed a hefty eighteen-and-a-half- pounds. I decided he needed more exercise than he was getting indoors. So, he and Fred get an hour romp outdoors weekly. (As of this posting, Laptop has lost 3 pounds.)
I let them out into the wild through my kitchen door. Thus, my kitchen door has become the stimulus–the association for escape, like food was to Pavlov’s dogs’ salivation responce. Even when I casually pass by the kitchen door, the boys rush me. And, as guests say their good-byes at the door, Fred sprawls in front of it or circles their legs meowing. Laptop doesn’t waste energy until the door is opened; then, he springs for it. My disability prevents me from running after them. Unless they’re napping, it’s a zoo trying to get out without a prison-break!
In spite of being stealthy and giving directions to friends not to give the boys a heads-up–a polite knock on the door–the sound of the UPS truck belied my best-laid plans.
I heard the brakes as the truck stopped in front of my house then, the sliding of its merchandise door. I went to the kitchen to meet him. Immediately, eight paws with two expectant tails pointing north joined me.
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Through a barely cracked door I coaxed the man in brown: “When you come in, stomp your feet to deter my two cats from escaping. They will try to run out.”
He affirmed by nodding his head.
With a scanner in his left hand and two large stacked boxes in his right, he side-stomped through the half-open door. As he walked toward the kitchen table, Laptop saw the opportunity and made a break for the wide-open. I shrieked.
In mid-stride, the man in brown side-pressed Laptop, now in mid-air, against the door with his left calf then, swiped him like a credit card back into the kitchen…never losing his balance or a box. I slammed the door behind him with, “Thank you! You must have pets.”
He slid the boxes onto the table, quickly scanned them with, “Oh, yes.” and was back out the door.
If you’re the lone caregiver for a loved one disabled from injury, disease, or illness, exhaustion can needlessly add to your stress. Aside from grieving the loss of the person you once knew, the future you hoped to share together as changed significantly.
Maybe you were sports enthusiasts, movie-goers, appreciators of the arts, or dedicated game-players. Now that you can’t easily go to an athletic event, the theater, museum, concert, or continue as club members, is there something You CAN substitute for it? And, would you consider offerring your loved one the opportunity to experience it with another? For instance:
Once-in-a-blue-moon, anticipate an IMAX ‘excellent’ adventure.
PBS performances, high school, and/or college drama departments are options for plays, operas, even concerts. Most schools and amphitheaters are accessible these days. I’ve found that students, as well as faculty, from the university in my town are open to performing in homes. A friend presented me with the gift of an ensemble singing Christmas carols to their own instrumentation. As well, poetry recitation, storytelling, dancing, playing instruments, karaoke, drawing, or painting are sensory experiences to share together.
Concerning that serpent of guilt, its motive is to isolate and depress. Finding a network of support to assist your responsibilities is a mandatory life-line.
http://apparalyzed.com/disability-directory/disability-forums-chat/ has a forum specifically for spouses and parents caring for family members of SCI, in addition to information on health issues, technology and assistive technology, sports, travel, research/cure/treatment news, and much more for your loved one to connect with. It’s an active, informative, stimulating site.
Barry J. Jacobs’ book, The Emotional Survival Guide for Caregivers, is a soothing balm for caregivers. It is based on caring for an aging parent; yuou can learn what he has gleaned from his own personal experience, as well, as a clinical psychologist and family therapist. http://www.emotionalsurvivalguide.com/book.htm
Just as important as reaching out for support, you must take care of yourself.
After my release from five months in SCI rehab, I lived with my sister and brother-in-law for about three or four months before leasing an apartment and going back to work. During that time, our church organized a daily schedule to relieve my, then pregnant, sister.
On a two-week rotation, one day every-other-week, a new friend picked me up around 11:30 am to carry me to her home for lunch. Back then, most husbands came home for lunch. The couple, their young children included, shared their meal with me. Dad went back to work, children took a nap, and we visited until nap was over. Normally, I was home by 4:00 pm.
It was the perfect opportunity for me to learn to adapt in different environments, build confidence in my abilities, and to make new friends. How it works The drug works in a simple try this shop now levitra uk fashion.
Not sharing your care-giving can pose a dilemma. When you have cared so attentively that your loved one wants ONLY you to assist and care for them, how can you find the necessary respite? It’s a ‘Catch-22’ situation. I’ve been on both sides.
On one hand, you were there when they were admitted into the hospital, during rehabilitation, and first came home. You know best how-to.
You doubt another knows what is best for them or will care for them as you do. You fear the repercussion between you and your loved one if you seek outside help. You may feel guilty, and you fear what others may think, if you do.
You are sacrificing and compromising your mental and physical health for theirs.
On the other hand, your loved one knows you know how-to. He/she feels comfortable with you and feels confident in your hands. Adjusting to another person will be unfamiliar and they will have to sacrifice their preferences. They fear the unknown.
For your loved one’s full adjustment to his/her situation, and turning that corner toward independence, he/she must be allowed other’s help. It’s interesting that when caught between the ‘rock-and-a-hard-place’ their wheels of avoidance figure out ‘how-to’ for themselves.
When we sulk at the suggestion of assistance from friends, other family members, or hired help, you feel resentment. When we threaten withholding our love or giving up, you feel anger. When we threaten to harm ourselves, you feel guilt and hopelessness.
Allow us these confusing emotions; only don’t take them personally. It isn’t really about you unless you fear speaking truth. If fear isn’t faced, it will be the bully pushing us around.
Love yourself enough to Seek support, Assistance, and You-time to quell the negative emotions you try to hide inside. Notice the acronym, SAY. Saying it out loud–straight-up– is the first step toward a viable solution to living joyfully and at peace with each other.
I don’t have many disabled friends, although time and again, friends and friends-of-friends give me numbers to call of people adjusting to a disability, disease, or illness. In addition to living with a disability, my counseling experience seems the perfect fit. I can listen with an empathetic ear, answer personal questions, and offer practical solutions for daily living. Before moving away, one of these women became a dear friend.
She was a go-getter. Obstacles were met with determination. She thought of tomorrow as the result of what she made of today. She was, and I’m sure she still is, a trooper. We lost touch after she and her husband moved. It was fun with the both of us rolling around together in our homes. I hadn’t been in a room full of wheelchairs since rehab!
From all the conversations getting to know my comrades-on-wheels, with the exclusion of my friend Julie, this is what I’ve found: Most succumbed to disability.
Understandably, they were faced with the drastic lifestyle change. And, the added stress of dashed dreams, the uncertainty of tomorrow, and pressure to adjust before the impact of the new reality had sunk in, brought an emotional tailspin—depression. This is when family is most important, although it was their families that seemed to be the insurmountable barrier to their emotional freedom and physical independence.
Caustic remarks fueled emotional eruptions. Innuendos, hints, and sarcastic tones of unspoken resentments from care-giving family members were destructive to all; particularly, the ones with broken wings. They couldn’t fly away to safety, and healing. They were sentenced to flop around and be pecked by unkindnesses.
The saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” is untrue. Words wound, as well.
Family should be a safe environment nurturing us back into a productive life. Even so, it’s difficult for you who love us to stand back and watch the struggle—dressing, feeding, wheeling ourselves—when you could easily do it for us. But, we must be allowed the struggles. This not only increases our endurance but also our confidence toward independence. At present prostate inspection method commander viagra additional info can be roughly divided into four: the first, EPS routine examination; the second, routine urine analysis and the examination of urinary sediment; third, bacteriological examination; and the last kind is other laboratory tests.
Independence requires we care for ourselves, apply make-up, or shave. Adjustment asks for time for our doubts and confusion to settle. In time, we gain confidence on the slippery slope of acceptance toward a healthy adjustment. Please encourage us to hope, to make plans for a new future. When the time comes, we will have learned we will be okay on our own. After all, this is true for anyone.
We don’t like feeling helpless. We don’t like feeling we’re a burden. Help us be neither.
We are aware that it’s a difficult adjustment for you. We do know you’re suffering, as well. Your dreams for and with us have been altered. You miss the way we were. You feel guilty because you do. It’s natural. It’s okay. You have your own adjustment. Together, we can do it.
Once we gain emotional freedom, prove our independence, and begin to laugh again, you can push us around. We’ll accept a freebie, any day.
According to me, one of the misfortunes of living with a disability is the loss of spontaneity. I miss impromptu trysts with friends for a midday coffee, catching a matinee at the last minute, foot-scorching sands on the beach while beach towel sunbathing, walking barefoot in the rain….But recently, I felt overindulged at a friend’s “throw her own” birthday party.
She invited an estimated seventy friends for a special luncheon at her country club. The speaker was Dorothy McDaniels of Dorothy McDaniel’s Flower Market fame in Homewood, Alabama. (She has even made arrangements for Margaret Thatcher!) She demonstrated techniques of a dozen different floral arrangements using red roses and green roses (I didn’t know that there were green roses.), green hydrangeas, purple irises, hot pink lilies, yellow this and thats, and white everythings; I love the purity and simplicity of white.
My rose after a couple days’ bloom
The table settings were breathtaking. At each place setting was a single rose tied with bows of purple organza and spring green satin. Every rose was a different type and a different color. (This was my rose after a couple-of-days’ bloom.) The centerpieces were low and glorious with light and hot pinks, purples and periwinkles, orange and yellow and green. SEE! And, the meal was as colorful and tasty: Spring greens salad sprinkled with sliced strawberries, wild mushroom crepes with Béchamel (a rich, creamy white sauce) over a rice pilaf, and rainbow sherbet with a Pirouette (rolled cookie) served in a long stem wine glass. Yum! This is me wearing my Asian tree Fascinator, after drinking my adrenalin (coffee).
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Outings have been rare lately, although I’ll be out promoting my book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity, in the upcoming months!
Although, I believe this is my temporary home, I make the best of living with my disability. I look forward to traveling the universe beholding Reality, whole and healed, enjoying Real spontaneity.
(NOTE: This is more than my standard 500 or less words for my articles. I didn’t want a “To be continued” tease at its middle. So, grab a juice or flavored water. Travel with me.)
For me as a SCI, travel and dilemma are synonymous. I look forward to the fellowship and activities at destination’s end, but the tedious planning and knowledge that MOST plans will crash before realized encroaches upon my hyped anticipation.
This recent Chicago trip was planned around a rehabilitation conference to sell my first book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html . To make travel possible, my dear friend and European daughter, Sandy LeBihan (one of my international exchange students twenty years ago), planned a two-week vacation to fly across the pond for our visit and my business adventure. We hadn’t seen each other since her third visit in 2007.
We flew a direct flight in an Express—a VERY SMALL, plane. Don’t do it…unless you can get out of your wheelchair or are a paraplegic.
Normally when I fly, I am the only wheelchair traveler; but as we waited to board, there were four other wheelchair users at the gate. Waiting my turn to be strapped into the hard plastic 12-inch-wide isle chair to be bumped and precariously rocked on board, each of the others transferred themselves into it. Obviously, they were paraplegics.
Of course, I’m going to inquire who they are and where they are going after Chicago. The serendipity is: One was competing in tennis and a couple in basketball at the Paralympics in London! Sandy just came from there, 6 days ago. (She’s French but has lived in London for the past 6 years.)
The horror that snapped me out of my awe was my “handlers!” Inept and obtuse can’t describe the experience or their training. On the other hand, at the Chicago end, I have never experienced two more trained, qualified, and intuitive handlers. When I informed them of my poor upper body strength, they snapped into a harmonious flow of precision I have never experienced before. I wish I knew their names to applaud them. Thank you, guys! Two other of the eight seemed to understand quadriplegia.
“GO Airport Express” (www.airportexpress.com) has wheelchair accessible ramped vans. They have a counter by baggage claims. Make round-trip reservations including them to pick you up at the airport and take you back for your return flight.
Everything I had prearranged with the hotel two months ago was not arranged. There was no accessible room available until the next day (I had specifically reserved one beginning on that date), a mile-high bed that the hotel “engineers” could not lower, and as I had requested—with the foreknowledge of the need, there was no one at the desk who could lift me into the “accessible” bed at night’s end. An hour later after three calls, a dear woman from housekeeping came up to assist Sandy in heave-hoing me in, as she did for the following four nights.
The best things about our room was the skyline lake view, and the cloud-soft beds. Sandy and I both tend to be insomniacs. We slept like babies.
The week-end conference was successful and a delight due to the skill and contagious personality of Gary Rainaldi, its organizer. I met some wonderful people, made several good contacts, and sold a lot of books.
Saturday afternoon, Sunday, and Monday were scheduled with sight-seeing tours. Due to an hour-and-a-half wait for our “scheduled” taxi equipped with a wheelchair lift, we missed our Trolley tour. We waited two more hours to be told there were no more wheelchair accessible tours for the day. (After the fact, they were late because our hotel was twenty minutes from downtown. Their business is downtown where everything is happening. Stay downtown! But, Flash Cab Chicago, 773-561-4444, was the best! Congenial and knowledgable of disability, the drivers were delightful.)
Sunday, we returned in the rain to be told the lift on that particular trolley was broken; there would be another trolley with a lift soon. An hour later, and after scrapping corroded metal from the wheelchair anchor locks in the Trolley’s floor, we saw Chicago—looking like drowned rats, but happy rats.
State Street
We traveled State Street where Batman rode his Bat mobile in “The Dark Knight.” (Many movies film on this street.) Somewhere on the tour, we passed the wreckage of 6 or 7 topsy-turvy police cars staged for the aftermath of a chase scene. And, we passed by Giordono’s, renowned as Chicago’s best pizza, although several boast the honor.
Overall, the Chicago Trolley (& Double Decker Co.) tour was informative and enjoyable. It was the hop on/hop off tour where you can get off or back on at fourteen allocated points to experience up-close-and-personal sight-seeing, shopping, and/or dining. If possible, plan the first morning tour to allow for this adventure. However, know the calculated arrival and departure times at each point or you might get stuck. The trolley sits for one minute at each stop. If your mind isn’t focused on the task at hand, and don’t move on until you achieve what you have a peek here viagra 50 mg set out to do.
A $35 ticket lasts for three days of trolley hop on/hop off sight-seeing. A tour without leaving the trolley lasts a couple of hours. If you have the time, ride the first day to pick points of interest where you would like to “hop-off” on other days. We didn’t have the time but were told getting off for a panoramic view of Chicago from the John Hancock Observatory was the exceptional one; there is also the Chicago Sky Deck in Willis Tower.
Sadly, due to so much waiting on the first day, we didn’t get to tour the museums or aquarium—my thing. For you shoppers, “the magnificent mile,” the northeast end of Michigan Avenue, is shopping nirvana.
Monday, blue skies returned for our 90-minute boat tour on the Chicago River and into Lake Michigan.
When I told Sandy that we would visit Chicago, her first thought was that she wanted to be on a boat like the scene with Julia Roberts’ and Dermot Mulroney’s characters in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” (She works with Universal Studios!) This was my highlight—after a dubious beginning.
Wendella Dock below Wrigley Bldg
Boarding for the Wendella is at Wendella Dock, the ticket counter, at the base of The Wrigley’s Building (yes, the gum). Boarding for the disabled, wheelchair bound, or aged is supposed to be at The Trump Dock. BUT, the street lift down to the ramped, accessible boarding was out-of-service for the week. No one knew this or warned us of the possibility when we purchased our tickets.
After two days of missed tours and delays, we arrived two hours before scheduled boarding. (Thank you, Jesus; we are teachable.) ANYWAY…learning that the street lift was closed, we entered Trump Towers inquiring how to descend to Trump Dock.
Trump Towers
To save you an hour of finally solved cunundrums, Gwen, one of the concierges, retraced our steps to realize the inaccessibility to the boat. She called for building security to unlock a private entrance from Trump Towers to allow us onto the Trump Dock. (We met a ninety-year-old woman here. By her looks and agility, I bet she could have boarded the Wendella by jumping.) Gwen had a couple of bottles of ice cold water waiting for us upon our return. Thank you, Gwen!
On this architectural tour, we had breathtaking up-close views, excellent live narrative about magnificent buildings, architecture, and Chicago’s rich history. We passed through
Chicago skyline from the Wendella on Lake Michigan
Chicago’s Lock into Lake Michigan to view Chicago’s entire skyline. I always looked for the Batman Building (John Hancock) with the two metal spires reaching heavenward, and Navy Pier.
(Adults $26, seniors $24, and children (11 and under) $13. The Wendella even had an open bar.)
Allow me to give kudos to my little hero, Sandy. This trip would not have been possible without her; not just for her physical presense accompanying me, but also for her astounding mental and visual memory. Whether taking directions, finding our way, remembering people’s names, streets, or buildings, she’s a human GPS. I love you, Sandy. Thank you!
