I am walking to the park on Bear Street about a half mile from my house. In my blue Eddie Bauer back pack I am carrying my roller blades and wrist guards. * I have not been on the blades since 2007 when I had a fall free trip up the lake shore in Chicago.
I blade around the park a few times…it is smaller than it appeared when I walked by it on my way home from the Nordstrom Rack. I am getting a little bored with going in circles. Maybe I should blade home? Maybe I shouldn't. Remember that time your were with Bernice and she fell...she had PT for like 6 months? I am doing pretty well. I have never fallen before. Plus, I have medical insurance. ** So, I head down Bear when I reach one problem I had not factored in when I reasoned to roll home…an intersection. Stopping has never really been forte. Crap. Ok, I can do this.
Bam! My legs slip from underneath me and fly into the air. I am falling. I am falling on my ass at the intersection of Bear and Paularino. Instinctively, I employ my guarded wrists to save me from further physical injury—the mental damage of landing on my butt and knowing that passersby are laughing at me cannot be undone. Hell, I would laugh too—falling is funny.
One car, one, at the intersection inquires if I am okay. I say yes but in truth my butt and wrists really ache. Shaken, I remove the blades and the guards and I walk home.
“Mom, I fell on my butt at an intersection on my roller blades.”
“You fell?” She asks. I think I hear her concealing a giggle—again, falling is funny.
“Yep, full on classic legs in the air ass on the ground fall.”
“Are you ok?”
“Well, my tailbone*** hurts and I think I sprained my wrist.”
“Did you have wrist guards?”
“Yes, thank God, otherwise I would be in serious trouble.”
“Where was your helmet?”
“I don’t have a helmet.”
“You need a helmet. Daddy fell on a bike ride and the last thing he remembers is the sound of his helmet skidding on the pavement.”
Always a ray of sunshine, she was right. What if it had been my head and not my ass that hit the ground first?
Truth be told, given that I am sorta injury prone I have no right rolling down a busy street. I used to blade all the time in my twenties with no thought about the dangers. No concern of harming myself.
A few months ago, I was walking down the stairs at my office and making a telephone call when my 3 inch heal caught on the step forcing me forward. I used the handrails to catch myself and re-assembled my blackberry.
That near trip had two outcomes. First, I cannot walk down the stairs and talk on the phone at the same time. Second, I am afraid of falling.
I watch children run up and down stairs—sometimes two or three at a time—free of any concern. I was like that as a child too. When did falling become scary? Given my natural low-grade anxiety, I now approach each stair with precision.
Reading Anne Marie Schlekeway’s blog Kiss My ALS this morning brought my whole anxiety into perspective. She wrote of a recent fall:
So I walked into my home and with in 5 minutes did a face plant into the carpet! Complete with rug burns on my face, under my left eye. UGH.
I felt my neck crack as I hit the ground …I hit the floor with my right knee and left cheekbone and temple and for the 1st time thought, “I wonder if it’s time for life alert?” I had had my phone in my hand so it was near me, and as I did a mental checklist feeling my body from the inside out to see if there was a serious injury…
I am blessed to have a strong, healthy body, which it would behoove me to take care of and enjoy. So I will still approach stairs with caution—just a smart thing to do—but I will not let the worry grip me in my daily activities.
Since I moved, I started a yoga class and have been researching cross-country skiing****. I might even buckle up those roller blades and tackle the safe confines of Still Water Creek Condominiums—where the smooth streets are wide and the speed limit is 20 MPH.*****
*A big shout out to Mrs. McLaughlin for buying them for me as a gift after she saw me rolling down Moulton Avenue sans wrist guards in 1994.
**The new rule of thumb is stay away from activities where that consideration is a deal breaker.
***I broke my tailbone in High School and for three months had to carry a powder blue, inflatable donut for anal discomfort. I might as well have been the annoying girl who starts her stories with, “One time at band camp….”
****Choosing that over leaning to Luge....let's not push it.
*****I will buy a helmet to be on the safe side.
Showing posts with label Anne Marie Schlekeway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Marie Schlekeway. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
A Complaint about Complaining
I have a complaint about people complaining. I fully understand and appreciate the irony of that statement; yet, will proceed with my train of thought regardless.
In general I surround myself with people who are skillful at keeping present for themselves an empowering context; thus, I have limited exposure to people who constantly complain. However, last weekend I encountered people who find fault about the most mundane things such as traffic, parking, and lines at the coffee shop. At the end of the day their gripping exhausted me. Therefore I spent the week observing complaints. The result, some people will nitpick about anything robbing themselves and all those around them of vitality.
The things about which some people will grumble amaze me.
In life there are problems, inconveniences and breakdowns. That is what is so. Traffic, flat tires, parking meters, disagreements, weather, and the like exist and resisting or complaining about them is futile.
In the mid 1990’s my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I am—to this day—inspired by how she handled the situation from beginning to end. Through a partial radical Mastectomy, chemotherapy and a year of medication she never once complained about the disease or the effects of the treatment; in fact, to this day she dislikes the Y-Me complain because it turns cancers patients into victims—and besides Y Not Me? No one deserves cancer.
In a recent trip to Chicago, a friend and I returned to her house to discover her car had been stolen. After taking the necessary steps—reporting the vehicle missing—we went out for a few pints. Later when the car was located stripped and burned she was able to find the humor in the incident.
Also, I am reminded of ever inspiring Anne Marie Schlekeway as she battles with ALS. When asked if people’s petty protests perturb her given her condition she simply states, “I wish they would get a bigger problem.”
This week my beloved pool was closed due to much needed repairs. Initially I was at a loss as to what to do with myself; alas, I utilized as an opportunity to catch up on those “rainy day activities” as well as get out an enjoy the beach.
I am not advocating complacency. If something is unworkable or a crisis do something about it—stop complaining and communicate in a way that can make a difference. But bitching for the sake of bitching is unnecessary.
If you are addicted to complaining, take a moment and ask yourself, “Is this a problem worthy of my time and energy?” If the answer is no then it might be best to keep your mouth shut.
As stated earlier, I understand the irony of the blog. I am interested in your input.
In general I surround myself with people who are skillful at keeping present for themselves an empowering context; thus, I have limited exposure to people who constantly complain. However, last weekend I encountered people who find fault about the most mundane things such as traffic, parking, and lines at the coffee shop. At the end of the day their gripping exhausted me. Therefore I spent the week observing complaints. The result, some people will nitpick about anything robbing themselves and all those around them of vitality.
The things about which some people will grumble amaze me.
In life there are problems, inconveniences and breakdowns. That is what is so. Traffic, flat tires, parking meters, disagreements, weather, and the like exist and resisting or complaining about them is futile.
In the mid 1990’s my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I am—to this day—inspired by how she handled the situation from beginning to end. Through a partial radical Mastectomy, chemotherapy and a year of medication she never once complained about the disease or the effects of the treatment; in fact, to this day she dislikes the Y-Me complain because it turns cancers patients into victims—and besides Y Not Me? No one deserves cancer.
In a recent trip to Chicago, a friend and I returned to her house to discover her car had been stolen. After taking the necessary steps—reporting the vehicle missing—we went out for a few pints. Later when the car was located stripped and burned she was able to find the humor in the incident.
Also, I am reminded of ever inspiring Anne Marie Schlekeway as she battles with ALS. When asked if people’s petty protests perturb her given her condition she simply states, “I wish they would get a bigger problem.”
This week my beloved pool was closed due to much needed repairs. Initially I was at a loss as to what to do with myself; alas, I utilized as an opportunity to catch up on those “rainy day activities” as well as get out an enjoy the beach.
I am not advocating complacency. If something is unworkable or a crisis do something about it—stop complaining and communicate in a way that can make a difference. But bitching for the sake of bitching is unnecessary.
If you are addicted to complaining, take a moment and ask yourself, “Is this a problem worthy of my time and energy?” If the answer is no then it might be best to keep your mouth shut.
As stated earlier, I understand the irony of the blog. I am interested in your input.
A Complaint about Complaining
I have a complaint about people complaining. I fully understand and appreciate the irony of that statement; yet, will proceed with my train of thought regardless.
In general I surround myself with people who are skillful at keeping present for themselves an empowering context; thus, I have limited exposure to people who constantly complain. However, last weekend I encountered people who find fault about the most mundane things such as traffic, parking, and lines at the coffee shop. At the end of the day their gripping exhausted me. Therefore I spent the week observing complaints. The result, some people will nitpick about anything robbing themselves and all those around them of vitality.
The things about which some people will grumble amaze me.
In life there are problems, inconveniences and breakdowns. That is what is so. Traffic, flat tires, parking meters, disagreements, weather, and the like exist and resisting or complaining about them is futile.
In the mid 1990’s my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I am—to this day—inspired by how she handled the situation from beginning to end. Through a partial radical Mastectomy, chemotherapy and a year of medication she never once complained about the disease or the effects of the treatment; in fact, to this day she dislikes the Y-Me complain because it turns cancers patients into victims—and besides Y Not Me? No one deserves cancer.
In a recent trip to Chicago, a friend and I returned to her house to discover her car had been stolen. After taking the necessary steps—reporting the vehicle missing—we went out for a few pints. Later when the car was located stripped and burned she was able to find the humor in the incident.
Also, I am reminded of ever inspiring Anne Marie Schlekeway as she battles with ALS. When asked if people’s petty protests perturb her given her condition she simply states, “I wish they would get a bigger problem.”
This week my beloved pool was closed due to much needed repairs. Initially I was at a loss as to what to do with myself; alas, I utilized as an opportunity to catch up on those “rainy day activities” as well as get out an enjoy the beach.
I am not advocating complacency. If something is unworkable or a crisis do something about it—stop complaining and communicate in a way that can make a difference. But bitching for the sake of bitching is unnecessary.
If you are addicted to complaining, take a moment and ask yourself, “Is this a problem worthy of my time and energy?” If the answer is no then it might be best to keep your mouth shut.
As stated earlier, I understand the irony of the blog. I am interested in your input.
In general I surround myself with people who are skillful at keeping present for themselves an empowering context; thus, I have limited exposure to people who constantly complain. However, last weekend I encountered people who find fault about the most mundane things such as traffic, parking, and lines at the coffee shop. At the end of the day their gripping exhausted me. Therefore I spent the week observing complaints. The result, some people will nitpick about anything robbing themselves and all those around them of vitality.
The things about which some people will grumble amaze me.
In life there are problems, inconveniences and breakdowns. That is what is so. Traffic, flat tires, parking meters, disagreements, weather, and the like exist and resisting or complaining about them is futile.
In the mid 1990’s my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I am—to this day—inspired by how she handled the situation from beginning to end. Through a partial radical Mastectomy, chemotherapy and a year of medication she never once complained about the disease or the effects of the treatment; in fact, to this day she dislikes the Y-Me complain because it turns cancers patients into victims—and besides Y Not Me? No one deserves cancer.
In a recent trip to Chicago, a friend and I returned to her house to discover her car had been stolen. After taking the necessary steps—reporting the vehicle missing—we went out for a few pints. Later when the car was located stripped and burned she was able to find the humor in the incident.
Also, I am reminded of ever inspiring Anne Marie Schlekeway as she battles with ALS. When asked if people’s petty protests perturb her given her condition she simply states, “I wish they would get a bigger problem.”
This week my beloved pool was closed due to much needed repairs. Initially I was at a loss as to what to do with myself; alas, I utilized as an opportunity to catch up on those “rainy day activities” as well as get out an enjoy the beach.
I am not advocating complacency. If something is unworkable or a crisis do something about it—stop complaining and communicate in a way that can make a difference. But bitching for the sake of bitching is unnecessary.
If you are addicted to complaining, take a moment and ask yourself, “Is this a problem worthy of my time and energy?” If the answer is no then it might be best to keep your mouth shut.
As stated earlier, I understand the irony of the blog. I am interested in your input.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
An Introduction
Today I am going to blog about a blog. Well, not just about the blog but also about the person who writes the blog. I sit at my computer overwhelmed because I do not know where to begin or what to include. So this blog is a simple introduction.
Meet Anne Marie Schlekeway, one of the most extraordinary people on the planet…..
I met Anne Marie in summer of 2000. I cannot remember the exact moment but am willing to bet she was wearing come fuck me high heels, talking loudly and perhaps smoking an extra long menthol cigarette.
I hung out with her for the first time in the summer of 2003. I remember that Tuesday night vividly as at 3:00 in the morning I became aware we were at bar that closed 4:00 AM. I also still recall going to work very tired, with a headache; yet extremely happy to have spent time with her.
In November of that year we moved into an apartment in Old Town, Chicago where we instantly became known to our friends and the people in the neighborhood as Laverne and Shirley. We would stay up till the wee hours laughing, crying, sharing and being silly. In the years that we were roommates we had more good times and more inside jokes than some people share in a lifetime.
Also during that time her speech began to deteriorate becoming noticeable to all by fall of 2005. By the following January people would think she was drunk even though she had not touched a drop of alcohol. About that same period she went to Northwestern Memorial Hospital complaining of symptoms akin to a stroke. The doctors (and she saw many) tested her for a variety of things ranging from Sleep Apnea to Bell Palsy and could not make a diagnosis.
A self subscribed workaholic; Anne Marie quit her high-pressure job in July of 2006 for a myriad of reasons but mostly to tend to her health. A move that initially seemed to work as her speech improved slightly with a lot of rest (12-18 hours a day).
No longer covered by health insurance—and slightly annoyed with hospitals—she explored less traditional avenues of healing such as Eastern Doctors, cleanses, diet changes, and regular massages. Yet her speech kept deteriorating; additionally she developed new symptoms such as weakness in her wrists, difficulty swallowing and weak facial muscles. I remember her once, quite seriously, express concern if she would be able to perform oral sex again.
Nevertheless she began to develop her course THE MASTER PLAN and had a wide array of clients who were flourishing.
In fall 2008 she moved to her own apartment and I accepted a promotion in So Cal. I will forever remember the moment I read her Facebook Status that the Doctors said she had ALS—Lou Gehrig’s Disease in March 2009.
Generally, people with ALS live 3-5 years after their diagnosis. True people such as Stephen Hawking have lived longer but that is not predictable.
Always an exception to the rule I think Anne Marie will outlast us all; however the diagnosis has been a line in the sand for her.
Gifted in keeping an empowering context, she is dying just as she lived BIG. No longer willing to waste time or words on Bullshit, Anne Marie has set out to leave her legacy. She spends her time and energy working on growing THE MASTER PLAN and well as drawing attention and funds for ALS. Additionally she started a blog call; appropriately KISS MY ALS where she authentically shares her experience of the disease.
Anne Marie and I chat regularly on Facebook and she blows me away. I am lucky to know her and to have her in my life. Therefore it has become my commitment in assisting her in her final project: her legacy.
I ask that you share these links. Read her blog, watch the speechless speech, and check out THE MASTER PLAN. I will continue to share about her in my blog—her health as well as the difference she has made for thousands of people including me.
I am reminded of the lyrics from the Award Winning Musical WICKED as it best expresses all I did not include in this blog…
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good
http://kissmyals.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Als
http://www.masterplanprogram.com/
http://video.wttw.com/video/1543486151
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