Tag: disability

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A Cool Ride

Whether for a Spinal cord injury (SCI), neurological disease or degeneration, this is the best wheelchair I’ve seen! I LOVE THIS!

I had a Swiss-made LEVO that stood me. It functioned as a regular wheelchair, AND as my legs in its up position—for standing in church or a wedding, weight bearing, to retrieve or replace dishes/food/clothing, etc.. It didn’t move until I lowered the seat back to sitting position. Unlike this snappy (almost) all-purpose wheelchair, its tires remained locked and stationary when standing.

But, I was at eye level!

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For another “cool ride,” join me on my wheelchair journey. Let your fingers do the walking to purchase Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity here http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html

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Happy Spring!

Here in the South, spring has sprung. I’m not really referring to it, although it REALLY IS the first day of Spring; nor do I mean when the crocus press through frozen earth or peek through a late snow. I’m talking about the two weeks when pollen shifts over EVERYTHING! Pollen 2Rolling over its yellow stickiness, my chariot leaves tracks, and transports its tracks, all over my house.

Yes, yellow is in my top five fav colors, but this is taking it too far. Although, I find cleaning up spilled turmeric leaves l-o-n-g-e-r-l-a-s-t-i-n-g yellow stains on my finger nails! It looks like nicotine stain…on all ten! My solution: I’m wearing fingernail polish until my nails grow out…for the second time!

My consolation that Spring has sprung in her mellow yellowness: my drive-through shower.

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Happy spring!

(For more creative every day solutions to managing life from a wheelchair, check out my book Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html )

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Don’t Give Up!

We’re all familiar with the famous war-time quote: “Never, never, never give up!” But, do you know who has said: “Don’t Give Up!” concerning your health, hopes, and pursuits? Stephen Hawking.

Who is Stephen Hawking?

He is an “English theoretical physicist, cosmologist, author and Director of Research at the Centre for Theoretical Cosmology within the University of Cambridge. Among his significant scientific works have been a collaboration with Roger Penrose on gravitational singularity theorems in the framework of general relativity, and the theoretical prediction that black holes emit radiation, often called Hawking radiation. Hawking was the first to set forth a cosmology explained by a union of the general theory of relativity and quantum mechanics. He is a vocal supporter of the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics….” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_Hawking

The truly amazing thing is that at 21 years of age, he was diagnosed with a motor neuron disease related to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). By its progression over the years, he is almost entirely paralyzed and communicates through a speech-generating device.

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At 72 years of age, he has yet to give in to his physical disability. But, in September of 2014, he declared himself an atheist.

If you’re so given, would you lift up a prayer that his spiritual eyes would be opened for his greatest discovery yet: that the “grand design of the universe” was created by The Grand Designer, God, Who was, is, and forever will be…and his heart would open to receive Him.

(If interested, today, November 7, “The Theory of Everything,” is premiering in theaters. It’s a movie depicting Stephen and Mary’s love story, and subsequent marriage (after his diagnosis and expected two years to live), his collaborations, honors, and struggles.)

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Newsletter series: Recuperative Sleep Aids

I was born wired for health. I just simmered for a couple of decades before reaching the necessary boiling point, my SCI.

My first book, Views From My Chariot http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html is about my emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual journey since disability. My second, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html, is how I reached wholeness, and a cheat sheet for you to do the same.

Starting in September and running through December, my “Chariot Notes” newsletter will feature a series on health in the (uh-hum) bedroom…for restful sleep, that is.

I know that a lot of you use perfectly legal prescription drugs dealing with ramification of disability. That’s fine. But in addition, I’m going to suggest some natural alternatives to transform your bedroom, and mind, for healthful sleep; like how to relax, how to find balance, how to purify the air and de-stress the atmosphere, how to relieve worrisome thoughts and let them go. Your quality of life IS up to you!

Take it from this interior decorator: The most important room in your home for your health is…no, not the kitchen: your bedroom. Sadly, it’s usually the last room to be updated because of the attitude: no one sees it. Therefore, the den, living room, kitchen, and powder room receive aid first. First aid for you is disregarded in your bedroom.

Those living with pain from a disability or illness know experientially how sleep evades us. For a multitude of others, restful sleep is a sought-after luxury, as well. It provides many health benefits, but it requires an ambiance to induce such. Color, neatness and order, pictures of special people, and mementos from special occasions all attribute to a sense of well-being, the foundation for restorative sleep.

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For me, white represents purity, simplicity, and cleanliness. My bedroom’s white walls, white Matelasse bedspread, and white sheets are like an IV-injected anesthetic…Z-Z-Z.

Wrapping yourself in your favorite color is always a good idea. If they’re red or orange, as are mine, use them as secondary colors in accessories. For instance: using red in a rug, under or at the end of your bed, offers safety. “Hot” colors in a bedroom should always be used on an accent wall, wall hanging, upholstery, or accent pillows.

And, clutter is a definite NO-NO for peace and calm. Don’t use your bedroom as an office, an atelier or crafting area, for scrap booking or bookkeeping. Have a basket, drawer, or out-of-sight container designated for bills, mail, magazines, and catalogs. A cluttered room muddles the mind.

SIGN UP for my 2013 newsletter for some health-transforming hints for restful, recuperative sleep.

And, if you don’t let me know your druthers, 2014 will begin with natural anti-inflammatory fixes for those muscle aches, running nerve pains, even bruising OR metabolism boosters and kitchen gadgets for healthy snacks, even chips for you chipaholics!

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SCI Wish List: Helping Hands

It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday! Today!

As the Girl Scout motto encourages, “Always be prepared.” I used to always prepare a written or mental wish list of suggested gifts for my birthday and Christmas. Although I love giving gifts, to a fault, at this point in my life, I prefer no gifts. After our family tended to my mother’s things after her death, it gave me a whole new perspective on stuff.

First of all, what we surround ourselves with are our own personal preferences. They aren’t necessarily another’s taste. Who will want them after we’re gone?

Secondly, I have acquired all that I need. It’s time to begin passing on those things that I know my loved ones like. Why wait? I’ve enjoyed them. It’s their turn.

Now, when asked what I would like, it’s a service that I request. Living with a SCI, it’s usually something I can’t do for myself, like: planting flowers that brighten my yard and light-up my days, arrange a bouquet from those that already bloom, pull dastardly weeds, make a favorite dish, a ‘drop in’ for a visit, or a transport and accompaniment to an appointment or errand.

Daily, life presents its demanding schedules and impromptu requirements. Expediency takes precedence in our busy-ness. Quality time is at a premium and my greatest treasure. For my birthday this year, with my deceased mother in mind, I requested some of her favorite food fare and helping hands from my sister and youngest niece.

For our lunch, (control your gag reflex, or your appalled, “WHAT!” response) I asked for Mother’s garlic sandwiches, her cottage cheese side dish, Zoe’s pimento cheese, and tea.

Because my sister knows how I love flowers, she picked Zenias from her neighbor’s prolific garden. (She says Jan can “spit” on a seed and it produces an orchard.)

For Mother’s garlic sandwich recipe, she rolled de-crusted whole wheat bread flat, spread a thin layer of softened butter and freshly pressed garlic on each slice then, rolled them into “shotgun slugs.” MY FAVORITE! Mother used to bring me a dozen or so to keep frozen until I needed one…or two.

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For Mother’s cottage cheese side dish, she combined cottage cheese, onion, and cucumber with a generous portion of coarsely ground pepper. OMG!

On my “3-seeded” wheat bread, we spread Zoe’s cayenne pimento cheese, and sliced some plump, juicy vine-ripened tomatoes, also from Jan’s garden. YUM!

After lunch, Candace acted as my hands to help me place a very special symbolic collection of items into a shadowbox to hang in my bedroom. See!

Calling to my heart
Calling to my heart

Its contents are: a small Indian doll, I have kept since childhood, and an arrowhead. With hair braids, dressed in white leather, the doll represents my Native American Cherokee roots; an antique china picanniney baby with bushy hair plaits representing mixed children that I love and never got to adopt; a small map of Ethiopia, and a charcoal sketch of an Ethiopian woman sent to me from a ministry I support in Addis Ababa. I’ve had a heart for Ethiopia since my early teens after reading about Solomon and the Queen of Sheba; and a colorful silk embroidery of a Chinese woman dressed in the traditional Cheongsam, a piece of their currency, and a hand-carved wood elephant representing my love for Asia.

Happy Birthday, to me!

P.S. Don’t expect others to read your mind. When I told my sister what I wanted, she was totally surprised, but selflessly giving.

I hope your birthday is as special!

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No Compute-Grrr

Rarely am I silent, but last week was one of those times, for two reasons: I was without a computer, and I have been on bed rest to avoid a breakdown–SCI side effect: decubidus ulcer, that is. So, this will be short ‘n sweet, ‘cause I’m still on the mend.

I’ve been procrastinating the purchase of a new computer; not that my old one hasn’t given me grief. Let me tell you, “It has!” Especially when preparing my colorful, picturesque monthly newsletter, “Chariot Notes” for you. (I always include something to help simplify your life in “What’s New,” a joke or humorous incident in “Chariot Chuckles,” and a Note from me. I’m missing talking to you if you’re not on board!)

demented computer
demented computer

Anyway, I’m still learning to navigate this digital world, so my brilliant, gracious friend, Amanda, has been tutoring me long-distance. She’s acted as a VERY PATIENT computer instructor. But, on most of our telephone conversations/hands-on instructions, my screen acted like the demented evil identical twin—showing disturbing DISsimilarities to Amanda’s screen and displaying paranormal behaviors, like disappearing (timing out) before I could “save” my time-intensive works and grossly distorting what should be on my screen!

There were times that I was so bullied by my computer’s disruptions, compounded by my physical and mental disabilities, that I was forced to email my contents to Amanda for her to format it for me.

No longer! I bit the financial bullet and charged it. But, the evil twin possessed the new computer’s hard drive by transferring its dementia through the installer’s hands to fry it. I blessed the second computer; it escaped the evil one. Though it talks in a different language, I’m learning to translate!

As for my boring, but expedient, bed rest: you may see my body lying there, but I’m long gone in my imagination on one of my oft’ soul-soaring adventures

http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2012/09/14/soul-soaring-no-wheelchair-needed/    ‎

Let’s meet somewhere. Shall we? ‎

 

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Satisfied-In Spite of Disability-Still

Okay. I’m feeling proud and want to toot my own horn. It’s been over a year since I began my blog/website dedicated to SCI, one of the most fulfilling of my adventures, and surprisingly cathartic.

I scrolled down memory lane of that novice writer and after reading the first few posts thought, “Darn, that was good!” So today, I’m reposting my first article from April 22, 2012, in case you missed it.

There are a myriad of things from which we can find peace and satisfaction. Living with a disability, illness, or disease does not prevent us from experiencing joy and happiness either. The heart attitude of ingratitude does that. One of the most important ways in finding peace AND satisfaction is assuring that our friends and loved ones know we love and appreciate them. I know mine do because I show them by how I treat them, and because I tell them every day.

I believe Jewel’s song, “Satisfied,” reveals an anointed insight into our heart’s deepest desire—to love and to be loved, despite its redemptive value. “Satisfied” encourages us to not be timid, afraid of, or hold back words of love, especially important for us with disabilities (we’re physically limited in the many other ways of demonstrating affection). She expresses that the sorrow of regret is worse than any fear of rejection. (“Google” it and give it a listen.)

Growing up, I don’t remember my parents ever telling me that they loved me. It wasn’t until my late twenties or early thirties that I began telling them that I loved them. (I was a late bloomer in learning to express my emotions.) Talk about awkward—very for me, but more so for them.

My intent was to make sure they knew I loved them, not to change their behavior; nor to hear them tell me. Although they did in time, in the beginning there were nervous laughs, bowed head “uh-hums,” and “Okay, then…” at our good-byes.

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I could have lived my life without the expression of those three words, by me or from my parents. And, in a futile attempt to justify myself, I could have pointed my finger at them to divert attention away from my failing. But because of my disability, my eyes were opened to see the need in myself, my heart received a blessing.

How often are we found guilty of putting our best foot forward for mere acquaintances, church members, fellow employees, and our bosses, but are rude, inconsiderate, and disrespectful to members of our own families? Through my disability, I have realized how much I need others, especially my family. If I don’t tell them today how very special they are to me, I may not have another chance. I don’t want to live with that regret.

Every one of us drew the short straw for, at least, one admirable character quality. If you are clueless as to what one of your shortcomings might be, but truly want to be a better you, try this: Ask your closest friend to help. First, to tell you what quality they love the most about you; second, the most annoying. You will be blessed hearing what endears you to them and, in time, you will be a blessing to them by changing that character flaw.

Don’t expect yourself, or anyone else who may join in on this satisfaction search, to instantly change by just a twitch of the nose. Baby steps are slow, and there will be fall downs.

Get a good brush.

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Enlightened Mind Thoughts

We know ourselves only to the extent of our mind and spirit’s enlightenment. Tragically, most of us have no idea that we are triune beings—mind, body, and spirit or soul. Especially those of us living with a disability, when our body has taken a leave of absence. It’s an automatic separation of body and mind. As a result, we exalt the mind.

As the saying goes, “Give an inch; take a mile,” the mind begins its domination over the body and soul with its analyzing, judgements, and control tactics, sabotaging peaceful resolve with its endless mental commentary about everyone and everything.

Insinuating that its analytics are supreme, the mind stealthily convinces you to believe your thoughts, good or bad, about self-worth and behavior. It rationalizes and excuses guileful motivations, unkind words, and hateful actions because we haven’t dealt with our feelings; and at worst, we’re convinced our behaviors are deserved retribution for other’s perceived wrongs.

The mind’s battle rages, further maiming our lives by confusion, fear, doubt, and concurrent physical maladies.

Deceived, we think that these thoughts are true. In truth, they are mere thoughts, often misguided and out-of-control. If the premise of “What Women Want” were true, we would all be committed or imprisoned by our thought life! Here are three truths concerning your thoughts:

The first is that you are not your thinking.

Your thoughts try to supervise, manage, regulate, and make sense of your environment. Many poor decisions are reached through subliminal thinking, meaning: we’re oblivious to the process of our thought streams. They’re rabbit trails!

When we attempt considering the pros and cons of our options, we have no idea how we reached the destination of decision. In hindsight, have you ever been perplexed by how you arrived at a particular conclusion?

The second truth is that you can delete, rewrite, copy and paste your thoughts.

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The mind should be subservient to the spirit. Don’t allow your mind to use you. Use your mind for developing constructive thought patterns. Practice visualization to uplift your spirit, and meditation and prayer to bring rest and health to your body. http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2012/09/14/soul-soaring-n…elchair-needed/   ‎

The third truth, as I see it, is that the spirit does not die. It lives on after our physical body expires.

Your deeper spiritual self should tutor your mind, not vice versa. Make time each day to turn off the TV, Twitter, Facebook, your Blackberry. Still your mind. Get in touch with your higher consciousness–your spirit. Breathe in peace. Breathe out stress. Let it go.

Alzheimer’s and dementia are evidence that mind over matter isn’t always the path to enlightenment. Like the rest of us, they’re created in the image of God, yet their mind is gone.

You are NOT your mind. You are bigger than your thinking. Quiet your mind’s incessant chatter. Let your spirit claim its role to rule.

For some light-hearted humor about my thoughts trying to railroad my thinking, read http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2012/07/12/disabled-or-enabled-thoughts/

For more on how to change negative thought patterns, you can PURCHASE my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU, HERE http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html.

I’m open for reviews!

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I Can Hear With My Eyes Closed

Although it sounds like one, this title is not a “Yogi-ism.” Periodically, don’t we all think like this: that we know more than we do because we’re blind to our offensive behaviors; especially when in the throes of a disabling adjustment?  Where is the disconnect?

I think we can be so self-deluded that we perceive our weaknesses as strengths and our ignorance as wisdom. You don’t know what you don’t know, right? These are our blind spots.

For example: When I moved to Alabama after my SCI, I believed my arrogance was confidence.  It took a friend to tell me, “Cynthia, you think you are God’s gift to Tuscaloosa, but you’re the turd in the punch bowl.” OUCH!

Here me now: If you don’t learn humility, you will be the burr under someone’s saddle and a lot of buckin’ will be goin’ on! Relationships get broken by this rodeo habit.

Un-deniably, our families and long-time friends see us through glasses of our past encumbrances, and hear our weaknesses through ear trumpets[1] (or Bluetooth if you’re technologically current), blind and deaf to the positive progressive changes.

Why? Because they’ve been there observing us through our childhood and adolescent stupidities, poor decisions, irresponsible words, and adult hang-ups.

It takes seven positives to negate one negative. That takes a lot of work; for what?  A family member to ask accusatively concerning positive change in your life, “When did YOU start blah-blah-blahing?” You know, as well as I do, that family suffers short-term memory loss but are champions of long-term memories. Just sayin’….

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It’s difficult enough keeping open communication and trying not to offend in a “normal” relationship. So, what to do when tragedy strikes you or one you love, specifically with SCI?

It isn’t easy and it isn’t simple. It may be complex but it shouldn’t be complicated. (Go to Webster for definitions if you’re puzzled.) When things start to become complicated in my life, I re-evaluate my plan, my intention, and/or my motivation.

Since “it takes a village” for me to independently live my life, if someone who volunteers to help in some capacity has a conflict, or arrangements aren’t squaring up, or I judge that something isn’t important enough to do at that time, I cancel the plan. My wants do not trump another’s ease of living. Too much inconvenience is TOO MUCH.

There are always considerations when living with a disability. Keep your eyes and ears open. Like the title implies, many times there are discrepancies between what we THINK we see and what we THINK we hear.

Open your eyes. It facilitates hearing the truth.

[1] Ear trumpets showed up in the 17th century. (Beethoven used them in his hearing decline.) Because of the stigma associated to old age, they were hidden in fans, walking sticks, and even camouflaged in jewelry.

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Wheelchair Warrior

Let me tell you a story:

“There was a little girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead.” (It’s not exactly a curl; it’s more like a wave, if I have a perm. If I don’t have a perm, I wear unintentional bangs.) “And, when she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid.” MY story changes here to: When she was MAD, she was a Warrior. Let me explain:

Last week, I told you that my ebook was coming SOON. I was three-fourths through; I had about one more week of typing to do. As I’ve told you or you’ve read, or maybe you haven’t read and I haven’t told you, I type about 8 words a minute, with my middle finger. Five hundred words a day is great for me. It’s a good day. Recently, I typed a thousand in one day. I was elated to be ahead of schedule. How I did it, I don’t know. Magic fingers, I guess. What can I say?

I took a break, went to dinner, came back to my office, and opened the file. It was EMPTY—0 CHARACTERS!

I clicked here, clicked there, trying to find where it went. Was there an auxiliary file? No. The original file was still titled, but there was nothing in it. Seven thousand words circling Saturn!

Okay, I have “lost” articles, emails, FB notes before but not of this magnitude. I decided to call my computer guy the next morning. He had retrieved things before; he could do it again.

He said, “If the file remains with no content, it can’t be retrieved.”

I was sick; I was literally nauseous. I thought I would vomit. Instead, I cried. After a short cry (I do not indulge in pity parties.), I made my morning espresso. I enjoyed my morning indulgence then, went to wash my face and apply make-up.
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I decided on black eyeliner. After lining my eyes, I thought, “I feel like black eye shadow.” I have NEVER been Goth but, today, this felt right!

I DECLARED WAR!

I blackened my eyelids. My hand painted God’s zigzag lightening rod on my right cheek and on my left cheek. I drew a cross (the blood of Jesus) between my eyebrows, three interconnecting circles (Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) on my chin, and symmetrical arches (my angel’s protection) on my jaws.

Because this book is for YOU, my faithful readers, this MAD WARRIOR put her head down, fists up, and middle finger poised. Threatening the enemy, I DECLARED VICTORY to complete this book!

I am back again, two-thirds of the way through. Determinedly, it is COMING SOON. (You can order, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity while you wait. Click “Purchase,” and click the link to its web page. Order there.)

Today, I apologize for the delay.