A CONTROL FREAK WITH MS 

I’m caught up in the details of organizing this ritual. Somehow, I have to free my thoughts of the minutia and write a eulogy.

The story begins in 1977 when I’m a frustrated grade 11 clarinet player.

I break into a sweat pushing the buttons on my TV remote.

I made it out to the Walking Trail again on Sunday (June 27) afternoon.

I found this small, handwritten note in May, tucked into an envelope addressed to Margie.

Last night, when I was wide awake at 2 AM, it occurred to me that I’ve never written about an actual day.

Lifts and slings are a big part of my life. Here’s a short course.

Over the last 10 days or so they’ve been training new workers to replace the regular ones when they go on vacation this summer.

Archie (not his real name) is more of an outlier than a GOM who’s set in his ways. That means he was probably always a little weird.

I just returned from a roll around the backyard. I know what you’re thinking. No, I did not get stuck and yes, I stayed on the sidewalk.

I finally got my Covid jab yesterday afternoon. Hooray! I never imagined I would ever be this excited about getting a needle.

All my friends of similar ages and even younger with fewer conditions have received their vaccinations.

It finally happened. Just now, outside, off the beaten track. I got myself royally stuck.

The story really began a week earlier when the “bath team” started using a new commode chair.

I never ask for the information. They offer it to me apropos of nothing. No previous conversation.

I can’t believe I haven’t written about this already.

This is a collection of little “thought-lets” and observations I made that don’t quite merit a post of their own.

Some of the residents here finally got the first of their Covid vaccinations today.

In long-term care settings and in private homes, they help people like me with what’s known in the business as “Activities of Daily Living.”

I’ve been a people watcher for many years.