Landmarks

He had always depended upon landmarks, places he could spot so he could find his way. There wasn’t anything really wrong with his sense of direction – he hadn’t been dropped on his head or played enough contact sports that his wiring for finding his way was messed up. He was just a visual guy. When there were family trips, he was the navigator and had that big – now ancient – Rand McNally map book on his lap. He would call out to his Dad, driving, “Turn here, Dad, now!”. His Dad had the quick retort always – “I see it, THANK YOU”. And so, it went. It was time now to walk to the train station. His day at the hospital was over, and there was no need to hurry home. He loved the 3 ½ miles on foot, largely because he didn’t have to drive with the melee of rush hour demons. It was time to walk.

Landmarks were just the best on this trip. From his building at 31st and Cottage Grove, he went west to the AME Church on King Drive, north along King past the mammoth McCormick Place and its well – placed curve west to Michigan. He felt the push coming now, as he then stepped briskly North on Michigan until the Art Institute of Chicago appeared. Left at the Lions and straight on until evening train! He knew instantly, as soon as he turned onto Jackson, that there would be a short hiatus before getting to the station. His smile was faint but unmistakable – and the cold twilight air was burnishing his cheeks. He knew he was geeking out now and someone will see him in mid – geek – but JEEZ, “The Dark Knight” was shot near here!

He stood on the LaSalle Street sidewalk and looked up so high, to scan the profile of the Board of Trade Building; up and up and up until he found the Ceres figure atop it. Goddess of agriculture, beckoning the farmers and the wheeler – dealers to come and trade. He took a few extra seconds to look Ceres over….and he liked what he saw. Sleek profile. An almost white skin tone. Eyes that saw through you, saw you. No one was going to put anything over on Ceres. She knew and she steered the eternal rhythms of the seasons. Before he left to complete his trek to the train, he felt the chill. It had come back, passed through him as a wafting smoke trail. For all but one of the last nine times he had taken this short side trip, the same chill was there. Smiling, he quickly turned west again on Jackson and made it to the train. It is important to get things together tonight, he thought, as the train doors popped open about an hour later. He did his best to miss the young woman exiting the car next to him. Oops, sorry! He croaked out as he slightly jostled her, blushing as he hurried to his car. Tomorrow was Halloween! Got to get everything ready! As he did every evening, he took everything from his pockets, soon as he was home, and placed every personal item in a large Santa – themed candy dish.

Halloween morning seemed no different than most other cold October mornings, back at the Office. He had gotten there before 8, so that he could put up the few decorations the boss would allow in the office. His bright orange jump suit with the “Cook County Jail” letters big and bold could be seen from street level along 31st Street. I’d better not get close to the window, he thought with a chuckle escaping him. People will think I’ve done a breakout! The chill hit him then – HIT HIM HERE!? That same chill he felt when seeing HER? A panicked cry, then a startle and he looked about to find the – OMG!

She was here – CERES! Sleek with the piercing eyes. She had a porcelain mask over her face, but her eyes betrayed her. Gawlllll – yes, I was transfixed, but my body betrayed my fear! “Uh, Uh, hel – hello” She tossed her head a bit, the long blonde locks that a Goddess of the land might have, they danced over her shoulders. Her immaculate costume scarcely rustled, when she lifted her left hand to flash well – groomed fingers in a menacing gesture. Yes I did, I watched those fingers with trepidation – was she going to scratch me?? I watched her left, and didn’t see at all the pocket pistol that smoothly appeared in her RIGHT.

“You’re a very clumsy guy,” She said with a flat tone as she lifted the Staccato CS pistol. “Cl - clum - clumsy??” “Bumping into me on the train – I could have fallen under the train!!” The chill hit him again – just before BEFORE THE GUN WENT OFF! Her scream, the gun!!

It was an hour before I was able to sit up – patting my sides and touching my head, in an utter panic all over. Other than the soft corners of my extremities a little tender, from the impact of my fall – no blood! No entry wounds or exit wounds! I pressed my palms into my forehead, stroking them down until I removed them from my chin. Then a quick double take, quadruple take – where’d she go? Ceres?? Where’d she go? No evidence that she had been there – and no bullet holes, anywhere! I had to find out - quickly springing to my feet, I then spotted, on the full length mirror, a message written to me IN LIPSTICK. It read, “TRICK OR TREAT!....then a capsule description of what had happened over the last hour and a half. Ceres knew: I’m a visual guy.

Not a Sexy Life

Ahhh, that feels good. SURYA NAMASKAR; it’s the sun salutation. First comes the mountain. Breathe in cool morning mist. Reach up and greet Sol. Smile as you take in the warm vapor. The fold you make of yourself keeps – Ahhh breathe – keeps you floppy. Flow up, HELLO AGAIN; your breathing rhythm paces you. You become a stalwart plank, instilled with rigid air flow. Then skulk near the ground, plank, almost a dog, breathe dog – The dog rears up, a bowel – filling deep breath. The dog bends down, and air bends still. And, near the end, you slide up with a breathing. ANOTHER FLOPPY FOLD? Your slow breath calms you. And once again, wave upward towards your next breath. Before we reach the mountain’s top, ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Wow, that felt good. I’m relaxed now for my morning shower. Before I started my pre – shower yoga routine, I was feeling very anxious about falling. It’s that simple. I’m old and I’m afraid of falling. But I’m lucky now - checking myself out in the mirror before I step over the tub rim – I’m lucky, because I’ve moved into a place with lots of safety precautions. A fall won’t be easy here. Why am I so worried about falling at my age? Kids don’t seem to linger in torment after a fall; I envy that. My son had his first formal photo made, soon after he had started walking. His mother was NOT pleased that, immediately before we were to drive to the portrait studio, he earned his first forehead booboo - his forehead kissed the sidewalk near the car! But after a few minutes of whimpering and first aid, off we went to be immortalized in film. Off I go: my steps inside my shower are flat – footed, steps that my wife called the “Sanibel Shuffle”. She said, you learn when vacationing in Gulfside Florida, to shuffle your feet over beach sand to go into the water. It helps you avoid stepping on horseshoe crabs, and inside the shower I turn to reach the soap. I shuffle slowly and carefully, to avoid stepping on the inner shower liner.

My ace – in – the – hole during shower times are the three – 3! – grab bars, one on each wall of the enclosure where I was scrubbing vigorously. Feet Sanibel flat; breathing slow and even; talking to myself quietly, because the acoustics are so good. Feet flat, knees slightly bent, posture erect, my hands working from arms to chest to abdomen to legs to feet. I was reminded by a TV comic the other night that white people don’t wash their legs and feet, so here goes the scrub while I hold a grab bar for balance. Between the toes Our old apartment had two grab bars, put in by my brother – in – law when his mother was coming to live with us. Mother – in – law was newly admitted to hospice. A hospice nurse was on duty the evening when Betty came to live with us. Betty didn’t make it through that first night. The grab bars remained.

I rinse off my torso and limbs, again holding to one grab bar. Lathered hands scrub my face and ears and scalp bordering my shrinking hairline. The moderate pressure I used to rinse my forehead made it impossible to miss the numb spot along my left brow. The warm spray on that forehead spot felt good. I reminded myself with a whisper to slightly arch my back, my neck straight. My memory was strong for that day. Could I have predicted what happened? Had I been at risk? While I was in the hospital, I ran through a list of risk factors. Was I – • Over 65? Yeah, I couldn’t do anything about that. • Carrying more than 3 diagnoses? Only hypertension. • Had I fallen in the last 3 months? NO. • Was I incontinent? NO. • Having a vision problem? Not at all. • Having problems moving? No. • Exposed to environmental toxins? No. • Taking at least 4 medications? No, only 1. • In pain? Not at all.

I had four appointments that day, as well as a physical exam with my primary doctor. In hindsight, a stupid bit of scheduling for the doctor visit – not seeing the doctor until 1 pm, and I had to go without food or drink till then. After I was done with the appointment and the blood draw, I grabbed something to eat and resumed my schedule. The third patient seen, a cup of coffee for some energy, and off to the fourth. Now scrubbing my hair; reaching down to the tub corner for the shampoo bottle, lifting my hand that held the dollop of shampoo, then conditioner in turn, and keeping my feet flat, my knees bent, my neck erect through the wash and the rinse. Then they found me. They found me, the paramedics, lying on the pavement in front of my fourth and final assignment – passed out in front of a senior living community. I really loved that sweater the paramedics had to cut off me, but it was bloody from the gash on my left forehead. A bleed on the left side of my brain was another mark on my safety record – luckily it had disappeared within two days, and I could go home. Now I’m home, practicing moving slowly, thinking slowly, so I don’t fall again. With a light grip on the back grab bar, I step out slowly, planting my foot firmly on the floor, knee bent to transfer my center of gravity forward. I’m moving forward. Toweling off before the mirror, I know I have to count my blessings. My background in healthcare helped me understand that, if I pay attention to my posture; how I use the balance sensory nerves in my ankles, my hips, my neck and my ears; how to move in a chaotic space; and how to keep my muscles, joints and my spirit in good shape, I’ll get through every day as best I can. Slow thinking, slow moving; it’s not that sexy a life, but a safer one.