Sylvia's Journal

More than a week has passed; a week that was too full for taking time out to write. I am losing my habit of writing but something has to give. I intend to make this a rare occasion.

The free sidewalk chair has been stripped from its upholstery, each and every one of the 1000s of staples removed, ironed, measured and the copied on the new fabric that we bought yesterday. A soft easy-drape red-brick material that is perfect for beginners – no patterns or lines to match up. I am putting the chair back together and only occasionally can be seen staring at a piece of fabric and muttering ‘how the heck…?”

I have been chugging away at two major tasks. One was producing the ‘good-enough-for-now’ organizational assessment tool that is part of a larger assessment a Johns Hopkins colleague and I will be using with a local reproductive health group in Pakistan next week. We will cover organizational functions (my part of the job) and health communication/behavior change communication practices. We will spend five days with our Pakistani colleagues, helping them introspect and figure out how to serve their clients better. I have been contemplating to study a bit of Urdu, imagining that I will recognize a bit from Dari and will be able to read the script.

The second big task is completing the requirements for my coaching certification, plus an additional certification for one the central tools that my coaching school uses. I had been a little discouraged by that second certification as it added about 17 more hours to the more than 200 hours I have nearly completed. But as it turns out it has been very interesting and it no longer looks like a hurdle. I think I have about another 20 hours or so to go – some of which can be taken care of during my long trip to Pakistan.

In the meantime Axel has received his sleep apnea machine. Sleep apnea has been identified as the culprit for many of his ailments. It is quite complicated to put all the pieces in the right place. For the first week it includes something that looks like a muzzle to keep his mouth closed. I couldn’t quite stand to watch it. Luckily I fall asleep easily and didn’t have to witness the whole thing. One night we met on the way to and from the bathroom and it looked as if an alien had invaded our house – the contraption, the tubing hanging from his nose – or one of those horror movies where government officials in white suits with masks on tell you that you have been invaded and everything you own is now available for ransacking.

The highlights of our time together – times when we recover from all the work and medical hooplala – is watching series together that we missed out on when it was shown on TV. We completed the five seasons of Mad Men which I found encouraging since it showed we have evolved as a species in only 50 years. Now we are watching Brideshead Revisited, the series from the 80s. It makes us happy that we did not grow up in a rich British family and, once again, it made us realize we have evolved, at least some of us.

That brings me to the US government crisis which shows, to the contrary, that in some places there has been no evolution at all.

On Saturday we picked up a recliner that was sitting on the sidewalk with a sign that said ‘free.’ We made a U-turn and loaded the chair in the car. At soon as we got home I started to remove the dog-haired upholstery – a major job that gave me blisters and a sore shoulder from pulling thousands of staples pounded into crappy wood. I dismantled the recliner mechanism to get at the tucked away corners. I took a course at least 2 decades ago and re-upholstered a couch and an armchair under the watchful eye of an upholstery master at a local vocational school. I had forgotten that the biggest part of re-upholstery is removing the old stuff. I have no idea whether I will be able to actually do the upholstery and put the chair back to together – it would need to be ready in 6 weeks.

Why? Because I have finally taken the step to schedule surgery (6 weeks from now) and have chosen for fusion over total ankle replacement. What got me off the fence were phone calls with three people who had considered both options and decided for fusion. All three said they wished they’d decided this earlier. They could walk again without pain. That clinched the deal for me. November 20 is the day that my talus and tibia bones will be fused together, forever. I feel as if a weight has lifted off my shoulder. When every step up or down the stairs or even down the driveway is painful I now know it is not forever. Light at the end of the tunnel – assuming the surgery goes well.

Faro and his parents came over for the weekend. When Faro is at our house our living room turns into a playpen – all the furniture is moved to barricade something he is not allowed to get into or touch. Plastic containers are strewn across the kitchen. We have started to teach him that he can only open two drawers in the kitchen and not the one with the measuring cups, the wooden spoons and definitely not the knives (he can just stretch that far up). He walks up to the drawer and lightly touches the forbidden ones while looking at us, waiting for the ‘nee.’ That is one word in Dutch he knows well and copies. He shakes his head and says, nay, nay, nay. Other Dutch words he knows are ‘vliegtuig’ (plane), ‘appel’ and ‘auto.’

At Faro’s toddler school they have a ramp. He has discovered ramps and cars zooming down them. Axel’s wedge, which is supposed to help him sleep without getting acid reflux, turns out to be a great ramp, as does Axel’s Achilles tendon stretcher, a smaller version but still a ramp. It is amazing that toy manufacturers manage to sell us all these kids toys when our houses are already full of things that can be repurposed without much effort into the most amazing playthings.

I am getting up in the dark again, and most of my morning commute is in the dark again. It’s fall and getting colder in the morning and evening. I have used the remote starter already once. But during the day it is Indian Summer time – one of my favorite times of the year.

I missed the staff outing to check out our new offices, a place further north, where we will move in January. I have heard mostly complaints about the move as it is inconvenient for many of my colleagues who live in Boston or in the southern and western suburbs. But for me it means I won’t have to put up with the Tobin Bridge, its traffic jams and its tolls. Since I joined MSH in 1986, the office has been slowly moving in my direction.

Today we are celebrating Steve’s 30th birthday. He is entering a decade that is about settling down and moving into middle age – ha, he doesn’t like to think about that I am sure. I think it was Jung who declared that this is the decade that bridges the first half of life with the second; a decade of shifting priorities and developing other parts of oneself. That certainly was true for me.

Steve’s favorite food is pierogies; it is convenient that he lives in Dorchester’s polish triangle. The place is awash in sausages, pickles and pierogies. It is not quite our WeightWatcher’s fare but we’ll join in on the fun anyways.