I. The Mailbox, Forevermore
Ever since I was a kid, I wrote letters back and forth with Auntie Vi.
I sent her a new mailbox once, but it was too big and she returned it. She painted flowers on her old one instead:
For the past six years, Vi and I emailed almost daily. This past year, she started signing her emails, "love FOREVERMORE".
And I do feel her example will always be with me--including her model of facing extreme old age and its ills with pluck and humor.
The pain did make her mean and crabby sometimes, but considering, she was pretty darn nice through it all.
Considering what?
Well, once she was in her eighties, she refused most diagnostic tests, but it's pretty clear she died from bowel cancer, which was pretty unpleasant for a long time... But she got up, showered, dressed, made breakfast every morning, and tried to keep going all day.
Neighbors helped with heavy chores--though she put in her own air conditioners last summer.
(Thankfully she had plenty of morphine at the end.)
I'd usually e-chitchat with Vi first thing in the morning--maybe I'll do more of that here.
II. This Morning's Chit Chat
Today I'd start, as I often did, with the Weather and Health Report:
Thank goodness it cooled off overnight, after a hot & humid day yesterday. It's still humid, but only in the low 70s, and supposed to drop during the week.
Sure is nice to see everything green again after a month of rain--amazing how grass that looks brown and dead can return refreshed.
I feel refreshed myself, now it's autumn--or nearly--equinox is on Wednesday. I hope you are feeling energized too, Vi, and can get out for walks again, after the summer heat.
Just now I heard the bell of the highschool one block away--classes must start at 9 a.m. Never heard it last year, during Covid of course. Not that we don't still have Covid...
And the regular flu is here. Sister had it for three days last week--got tested for Covid, but it was "just" the regular miserable old variety.
Have you had your flu shot, Vi?
I got mine on Friday after PT for my Achilles tendinitis.
I love my pt, you know. I call him Captain, which he really is:
besides having his PhD in PT, he is also a captain in the army. He's one of those rare people who are kind & understanding (at least with his patients) and also happen to be overachievers.
Instead of feeling like a loser in comparison, I feel encouraged by him to keep on doing my little things--like stretching my calves at the bus stop.
"Only about 10 percent of people do all their pt exercises," he said--seemingly not upset about it––when I told him I only did about half of them.
(Vi, I know you are one of the 10 percent!)
III. Be NEAT!
I told him about you, Vi, and how you'd stayed active up till you died at 96. "But she never went to a gym," I said. "She gardened, did constant housework, walked--walking with her walker to the grocery store even in her last summer."
He said you got it right:
"That's called NEAT," he said: "Non-exercise activity thermogenesis".
It's the calories we burn when we go about our daily business that isn't planned exercise or sports (or sleeping, breathing, and eating).
Neat, huh?
Captain said studies show that doing desk work produces the worst health outcomes--EVEN if you are athletic outside of work.
I told him that one reason I decided to stay in my thrift store job, even though it pays poorly, is because I am NOT physically energetic. When I was writing for work, I went to the gym 3 times a week--but that's only three hours of exercise--almost nothing set against hours and hours and hours at the computer.
I'm in constant motion at the store. Lots of NEAT.
"I figure staying active is worth more than money," I said.
"That's a good decision for the long run," he said.
I figure PTs must see the outcomes of the worst decisions--(as well as bad luck, of course--I KNOW I've been lucky so far)––so I take his judgment seriously.
Keep 'er moving!
OK--going to make breakfast now: OATMEAL with walnuts and blueberries, for lowering cholesterol, and also I love oatmeal, and it's oatmeal season.
Find joy in your day, auntie--I know you always do!
Love FOREVERMORE, Fresca
P.S. I'm doing my colon at-home iFOB test this week.
Hi Francesca,
ReplyDeleteI bet Vi would have enjoyed your morning chat. I did. Glad your pt person is good. I only had it once after I broke my ankle, but it kind of seized up instead of healing properly. He did lots of painful manipulation of my poor foot, and gave me exercises. I did do them quite a lot but they really hurt! I like the idea of NEAT. That is pretty much my exercise regime. A lot of walking resulting from cat visits at t eh moment. Last year a lot of walking as a result of school. The outing yesterday looked like fun. I didn't know the term'midway' as I think it is mainly an American one. I found out what it was in a novel about the circus set in the US. The word I have learnt this week is 'mouldwarp.' It is too longwinded to explain here but I got that from a novel too. I was surprised I didn't know it as it relates to folklore/legends of Britain and I thought I knew quite a lot about those!
Enjoy the rest of your day!
Oh my goodness, Sarah-/-mouldwarp—wHat a word!
ReplyDeleteI looked it right up-
From Wikipedia:
A Mouldwarp is an ancient dialect word for a mole of the family Talpidae in the order Eulipotyphla. However, a mediaeval prophecy declared that the sixth King of England after King John would be the 'Mouldwarp', a proud, contemptible and cowardly person, having a skin like a goat.
What a lovely blog post! That is one thing I miss about my mother. We didn't write that much but our emails were along the same line of weather and what we were each doing. People always think they need to have "big" conversations but carrying on small talk is more important.
ReplyDeleteMy mother died from a treatable cancer but like your aunt shunned any medical advice. She was also crabby and mean during her last year. I like to think that it was the cancer talking not her.
Physical therapy is needed for my wrist after I broke it quite famously in early August. 6 weeks of not using tendons is a little painful once you realize you need to. A funny story about my broken wrist: all the medical people and my neighbors (who took me to the emergency room) kept asking me if I was in pain. Even though my wrist was at strange angles -- oddly no. But I did tell them that a paper cut could put me on the floor.
Kirsten
That beautiful mailbox — the artist’s signature doubles as postal identification. Or is it the other way around? : )
ReplyDeleteLetter to Vi is just right, endearing and personable. For two years, since covid, i feel like I have just parked my car in the garage and not taken it out for a spin. My car (body) is wrecked at the moment. Of course i know better and know what to do about it , but the spirit just does not move. Agoraphobia- I understand.
ReplyDeleteFOREVERMORE!
ReplyDeleteThat's a lovely conversational letter. My mum also died from bowel cancer, she had several surgeries to remove affected sections of bowel until there wasn't enough left to be able to remove any more, then the cancer broke out in other areas but she still coped well enough until it reached her throat and she could no longer swallow. That's when she took herself to hospital to die, because she didn't want to die alone at home and not be found.
ReplyDeleteI do the bowel check every time they send the kit, here it is every two years from age fifty, everyone gets sent a free test by the government. I also had a colonoscopy several years ago and was declared clean as a whistle and didn't need a follow-up appointment.