I’ve taken off the last couple Mondays because all my writing energy seemed used up in my efforts to record the histories of my paternal grandparents. Such a process that is – rewarding and gratifying to realize just how much of who I am comes from those who have come before.
Such ideas have been much in my mind of late – and especially today which marks the tenth anniversary of the death of my first husband Dave Spadavecchia. Ten years. It’s a long time – and yet it sometimes feels like yesterday. So much learning and growth – because of having Dave in my life – and because of living through losing him. And because of learning to love again.
I’ve spent this day, as I do every year, reading through journals and letters and remembering. It’s my ritual to strengthen the joys Dave and I shared – to make those joys more present in my daily life. There’s pain in remembering too, but the joys are worth the pain.
Today, I came across a piece that Dave wrote when he was healing from a broken ankle. I’d like to share it with you because it gives glimpses into Dave’s remarkable character – and because I find it so hopeful.
Dave didn’t consider himself a writer – and until I read his work, I never realized how much spelling and typing rely on vision. Compulsive editors among you will want to run this through spell check, but I’ve left Dave’s words just as the blind guy typed them some twelve years ago. I find his errors very dear, but it’s okay with me if you don’t see it the same way. But I do hope you’ll look beyond the spelling and grammar to see – and feel – the beauty of Dave’s healing stream.
THE HEALING STREAM by David Spadavecchia
Healing is the body's way of repairing itself from some kind of damage. Many things can aid in this process like medicine, physical therapy, doctors and best of all the mind.
To start with a bit of information about the princible ccharacter, me. At the time of the incident and I will call this an incident and not an accident because I do not want to be thought of as accident prone but incident prone. At the time I was 51 and had been a diabetic for 39 years and had suffered many of the complacations of this disease. Diabetes can be like a millstone around your neck, a weight that can pull you down or if you imagine it in a knapsack on your back it can make you stronger in some ways. At times I feel both ways, dreined and stronger.
The incident was that I suffered a compound fracture of my right ankle. At our local hospital an orthopedic surgeon told me what he would do for a normal person but with my history he said that there was a good chance that I might lose my foot and that I should go to the hospital where I am treated usually. After being transported there I was lucky enough to be treated by a caring and understanding orthopedic surgeon who after talking with me and my wife, Sally agreedthat he was going to do everything possible to save my foot.
After the ankle was set and plastic surgury closed the open wound with a skin graft Sally and I were talking about what I could doto help the healing process and she came up with the idea of the stream.
Sally has this great attraction for water and she likes to share things with me so she suggested that I should visualize putting my foot in a stream and have the water with healing power wash over my foot and help with the healing.
While laying in bthe hospital I started to visualize sitting on a bank and putting my foot in the stream. I had on my leg an external fixator which is a number of stainless steelpins screwed into my shin bone and foot and connected by rods to keep the bones from moving. After a while I decided to expand my dream stream instead of sitting on the bank I decided to remake the stream so I could lay in it. I pictured the stream about eight feet across and one and a half feet deep with slightly cool water moving gentlly along so I could have my leg submerged. The sun was warm and there were peacefully pleasant sounds like birds and a little breeze rustling the leaves. Now I have room for both Sally and me to recline in the stream and enjoy each other's 's company with both Sally and the stream helping me heal.
At home Sally sant out E mail to people we lnew to tell them what had happened and about the stream. Many replied with their own visualizations many with great ideas. One especially was from Betty who gave me the idea of a waterfall whose spray had a reinbow of healing power. So I built onto my stream with a waterfall about eight feet tall falling into a pond surrounded by as Sally calls them dancing willows instead of weeping willows. I love her images they are so poetic.
When ever I was just laying there, daydreaming or going to sleep I would visualize enjoying the stream and waterfall. You see I also could stand under the waterfall cleansing away any infection and giving healing to my whole body. While picturing all this I started to visualize Sally and me walking into a local shoe store and buying a pair of athletic shoes.
After three days the doctors unwrapped the bandage covering the skin graft and said it looked like it was coming along great and they had great hope that it was on it's way to healing. After six weeks the skin graft was completely healed and the doctor said there was no reason to see him again.
In the meanwhile the bone is taking longer to mend.
Postscript by Sally Crosiar
What Dave didn’t say in his description above is that the idea for the stream came as a counter-measure to a misguided statement made by a resident at Strong Memorial Hospital. Dave had been in the hospital for a day or so, and had been visited by numerous residents and interns (we called them doc-wannabe’s). While many were skilled and kind, one made a very negative impression.
Being in the hospital robs one of independence and control of one’s life, and in Dave’s case, he was also robbed of being able to manage his own insulin and blood sugar levels. He had limited choice of food, his nurses weren’t always smart enough to give him the amount of insulin he requested, and he had limited exercise opportunities. His normal disciplined approach to managing his blood sugar was disrupted.
On this particular day, his blood sugar was high. And this resident treated Dave like he was newly diagnosed with diabetes – and in the way he was treated when he was diagnosed at age 12. She yelled at him for having a high blood sugar level. Like it was something he could control. She went on to say, “When you let your blood sugar get that high, you might as well soak your wound in a cesspool filled with sewage.”
No wonder Dave was upset. When he told me about it, we did our best to find out her name and when we couldn’t do that, we lodged a complaint to the attending. She’s lucky that she never had to encounter me personally – but her future patients may not be.
At any rate, the idea for the stream came as one way to reverse the horrible image she had put in Dave’s mind – an image that might have robbed him of hope and will and perhaps his foot. We couldn’t unsay what she had said, but we sure could create an image that would fill Dave’s mind with pleasant, healing, and hopeful thoughts.
He gave me credit for the idea, but it should be clear that he provided all the details, and all the vibrancy of this image. And he took himself to the stream over and over again in the healing process.
I’m convinced that the stream created enough hope to fuel Dave’s determination to heal. And heal he did. The skin graft and pin sites healed completely within weeks. The ankle bone did take longer to heal, but did heal successfully in six months time. Dave had full use of both legs and feet until he died two years later – the proud owner of not one but three pairs of specially fitted athletic shoes.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Monday Moment - Hooping and Hollering
Remember how a few weeks ago I spent a weekend working with 4-H teens who will help afterschool programs find ways to create environments where it’s easier to make healthy choices? Well, I’ve just created an environmental change in my home that really excites me! I have created a “hooping zone!”
During my weekend with 4-H’ers I was re-introduced to hula hoops. Except these weren’t your Dollar Store variety hula hoops – or the ones that some of you might remember from earlier days. The hoops we played with that weekend were bigger, heavier, and even had massaging bumps to them. But their most important feature was that I could make them work! I could hula hoop as a kid, but somewhere along the long line of my life, I lost my hula hoop ability. So when I was able to get the hang of it again, I wanted more!
Back at home, I started looking around the internet and was amazed at the plethora of hooping sites. Who knew? Lots of sites want to sell you a hoop, and they do make it seem like a good investment. “Lose an inch around your waist and 4 pounds a month!” And in just 10 minutes a day! Sounds good, huh? Maybe too good.
I wanted to understand the physiology so I kept looking. I haven’t found a lot of the research-based information I’d really like, but I found enough to keep me interested. Sources like Consumer Reports, the Cooper Aerobics Center, the American Council on Exercise say that hooping does have benefits for the abs, core muscles, balance, pelvic flexibility, and is a mild cardiovascular activity. And besides, they say, if it’s fun, people will actually exercise.
Okay, I want to try it. But I wanted a cheaper alternative for myself and to promote among folks who work with kids than the $40-50 models available on the internet. I remembered that Ray’s sister had built her own hoop, and that seemed like a good place to start. I took a trip to Lowes, engaged Ray’s help, and voila! Ray discovered a site that has great instructions and photos of how to build a hoop (http://www.jasonunbound.com/hoops.html) and in a matter of minutes, I was trying out the first of my very own hoops!
It’s only the first of my hoops because another possibility is to add sand or water inside the hoop to add weight. I figure I’ll work with my un-weighted hoop a few weeks and then experiment with a 3-pound and a 5-pound hoop. And all for the price of about $3.50 per hoop. (Of course I probably won’t be able to resist decorating my black hoop with some funky colored tape which will add a little extra cost – and a few more ounces!)
The environmental factor is having a hoop and a ‘hoop zone’ – a space big enough to not knock down anything that might be in my hoop’s orbit. But the tougher factor is to actually use the thing! My initial goal is to hoop for 5 minutes in the morning and 5 minutes in the evening, and gradually increase a minute at a time – in addition to using my stationary bike and swimming. I’m only three days into this goal, and I can tell you that I think it’s going to be easy – because using the hoop is fun!
As I’ve explored sites like hooping.org, I find that I could even get together with other hoopers at a nearby park. Huh. Who knew? I don’t know that I’ll ever step quite so deep into the group hoop territory, but I am certainly excited about having a new exercise alternative to get me moving in the dead of winter. Halle-hoopla!
May you discover some new alternative that excites you in the coming week!
Sally
During my weekend with 4-H’ers I was re-introduced to hula hoops. Except these weren’t your Dollar Store variety hula hoops – or the ones that some of you might remember from earlier days. The hoops we played with that weekend were bigger, heavier, and even had massaging bumps to them. But their most important feature was that I could make them work! I could hula hoop as a kid, but somewhere along the long line of my life, I lost my hula hoop ability. So when I was able to get the hang of it again, I wanted more!
Back at home, I started looking around the internet and was amazed at the plethora of hooping sites. Who knew? Lots of sites want to sell you a hoop, and they do make it seem like a good investment. “Lose an inch around your waist and 4 pounds a month!” And in just 10 minutes a day! Sounds good, huh? Maybe too good.
I wanted to understand the physiology so I kept looking. I haven’t found a lot of the research-based information I’d really like, but I found enough to keep me interested. Sources like Consumer Reports, the Cooper Aerobics Center, the American Council on Exercise say that hooping does have benefits for the abs, core muscles, balance, pelvic flexibility, and is a mild cardiovascular activity. And besides, they say, if it’s fun, people will actually exercise.
Okay, I want to try it. But I wanted a cheaper alternative for myself and to promote among folks who work with kids than the $40-50 models available on the internet. I remembered that Ray’s sister had built her own hoop, and that seemed like a good place to start. I took a trip to Lowes, engaged Ray’s help, and voila! Ray discovered a site that has great instructions and photos of how to build a hoop (http://www.jasonunbound.com/hoops.html) and in a matter of minutes, I was trying out the first of my very own hoops!
It’s only the first of my hoops because another possibility is to add sand or water inside the hoop to add weight. I figure I’ll work with my un-weighted hoop a few weeks and then experiment with a 3-pound and a 5-pound hoop. And all for the price of about $3.50 per hoop. (Of course I probably won’t be able to resist decorating my black hoop with some funky colored tape which will add a little extra cost – and a few more ounces!)
The environmental factor is having a hoop and a ‘hoop zone’ – a space big enough to not knock down anything that might be in my hoop’s orbit. But the tougher factor is to actually use the thing! My initial goal is to hoop for 5 minutes in the morning and 5 minutes in the evening, and gradually increase a minute at a time – in addition to using my stationary bike and swimming. I’m only three days into this goal, and I can tell you that I think it’s going to be easy – because using the hoop is fun!
As I’ve explored sites like hooping.org, I find that I could even get together with other hoopers at a nearby park. Huh. Who knew? I don’t know that I’ll ever step quite so deep into the group hoop territory, but I am certainly excited about having a new exercise alternative to get me moving in the dead of winter. Halle-hoopla!
May you discover some new alternative that excites you in the coming week!
Sally
Monday, December 1, 2008
Monday Moment - a Happy Memory
Some of you who have been with me for a while know that every year about this time, I tackle a project of writing down stories about one of my ancestors. For lots and lots of years, I had “Write the Family History” on my to do list – a project that proved too enormous and too daunting to ever actually do. Then Ray’s sister – who did set down a family history – inspired a way to break down the daunting into an achievable goal.
The whole history is too big, but if I take one person – or one set of grandparents – every year, the chunks of the elephant become more chewable. It’s been a wonderful process for me – and one that achieves goal status as it has a deadline of a Christmas deliverable to members of my family. My history of some ancestor is my gift to them – whether they like it or not.
So far, I put together a collection of stories about my father, another collection about my mother, and still another about my maternal grandparents. This year’s collection will be about my paternal grandparents, Eli Ives Crosiar and Mary Malinda Ogan Crosiar.
I never knew my Grandpa Eli who died ten years before I was born, but Grandma Crosiar was a fixture in the first fourteen years of my life. We lived in one side of a big old farmhouse built by Grandpa Eli’s father Amasa (who might be next year’s project) and Grandma lived in the other side. Like any kid would, I took Grandma’s presence for granted in many ways. And yet I was also aware that having her so close was something that other kids didn’t have – something unique and special.
As I’ve been thinking about how to portray Grandma’s history in our family, it’s the simple memories of my childhood that keep taking center stage. When I was little and all the other kids were in school, I loved being invited to join Grandma for lunch of rice and dark brown sugar. We often had rice and brown sugar for lunch on our side of the house too, but Mom always bought light brown sugar. Grandma’s dark brown sugar seemed like a far bigger treat.
Of course it would have been rude to ask if I could come to lunch, but I learned to engage Grandma in a morning conversation that might result in an invitation for my favorite lunch. It was a delicate negotiation. I could casually wonder what Grandma was planning for lunch. I could even perhaps remind her how much she enjoyed rice. But I couldn’t ever say that I wanted rice for lunch. That would be going too far.
From an adult vantage point, I can see just how transparent my ploys must have been, and yet they were given credence because no one ever doubted Grandma’s word. If she said that she had issued an invitation, then I was invited, and there were no more questions to ask. Grandma was well-regarded as a person who said exactly what she meant. Other stories will do more to reveal the firmness of character that was among Grandma’s most prominent features.
For now, though, I’m just enjoying the memory of a woman who allowed herself to be cajoled into inviting a little girl for lunch. I don’t often bring the whole memory of lunch with Grandma into focus – and I wouldn’t have now without my annual ancestor biography task. But I do think of Grandma anytime I use or buy brown sugar – because dark is still my choice!
May you bring a happy memory into clear focus this week – or maybe help create one for a little kid in your own life!
The whole history is too big, but if I take one person – or one set of grandparents – every year, the chunks of the elephant become more chewable. It’s been a wonderful process for me – and one that achieves goal status as it has a deadline of a Christmas deliverable to members of my family. My history of some ancestor is my gift to them – whether they like it or not.
So far, I put together a collection of stories about my father, another collection about my mother, and still another about my maternal grandparents. This year’s collection will be about my paternal grandparents, Eli Ives Crosiar and Mary Malinda Ogan Crosiar.
I never knew my Grandpa Eli who died ten years before I was born, but Grandma Crosiar was a fixture in the first fourteen years of my life. We lived in one side of a big old farmhouse built by Grandpa Eli’s father Amasa (who might be next year’s project) and Grandma lived in the other side. Like any kid would, I took Grandma’s presence for granted in many ways. And yet I was also aware that having her so close was something that other kids didn’t have – something unique and special.
As I’ve been thinking about how to portray Grandma’s history in our family, it’s the simple memories of my childhood that keep taking center stage. When I was little and all the other kids were in school, I loved being invited to join Grandma for lunch of rice and dark brown sugar. We often had rice and brown sugar for lunch on our side of the house too, but Mom always bought light brown sugar. Grandma’s dark brown sugar seemed like a far bigger treat.
Of course it would have been rude to ask if I could come to lunch, but I learned to engage Grandma in a morning conversation that might result in an invitation for my favorite lunch. It was a delicate negotiation. I could casually wonder what Grandma was planning for lunch. I could even perhaps remind her how much she enjoyed rice. But I couldn’t ever say that I wanted rice for lunch. That would be going too far.
From an adult vantage point, I can see just how transparent my ploys must have been, and yet they were given credence because no one ever doubted Grandma’s word. If she said that she had issued an invitation, then I was invited, and there were no more questions to ask. Grandma was well-regarded as a person who said exactly what she meant. Other stories will do more to reveal the firmness of character that was among Grandma’s most prominent features.
For now, though, I’m just enjoying the memory of a woman who allowed herself to be cajoled into inviting a little girl for lunch. I don’t often bring the whole memory of lunch with Grandma into focus – and I wouldn’t have now without my annual ancestor biography task. But I do think of Grandma anytime I use or buy brown sugar – because dark is still my choice!
May you bring a happy memory into clear focus this week – or maybe help create one for a little kid in your own life!
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