Dad's Chair

Memories of Dad's chair have a special place in my heart. The armchair with mahogany legs and handrests and brass upholstery tacks was never moved to other spots in our Walnut Street house. The chair and matching footstool --- invisibly bolted to the oak flooring for 56 years --- were reupholstered twice, as far as I can recall.

Dad's chair transported me to my youth and evenings watching television together. Dad and I chatted about the weather, sports, and whatever made the headlines that evening. Our favorite shows were 'anything cowboy,' especially Bonanza and The Rifleman. Another favorite was Red Skelton and I especially remember my dad's hearty laugh during that show. I felt special perched on the chair's matching footstool as Dad teased me by putting his bare feet on my back. He'd nudge me at the top of the hour—I'd get up, walk over to the television, and change the channel to one of the three choices available in the early 1960s. When Dad began to snore, I'd gently tap his foot, and if Mom witnessed this act, she'd scold, "Let your father rest."

Decades later, after Dad died and Mom moved into a memory care unit, my sisters and I went about emptying the family home and preparing it for sale. My parents didn't own material things of value. Although well cared for, most of their possessions were not worth much. The exceptions were the antique and pristine bedroom furniture. Those pieces stayed in the family.

However, I couldn't stand to let Dad's chair go to another family or worse yet, the dump! I paid to move the chair from Pennsylvania to Washington State and set it in the corner of the bedroom. I added a suitable end table and the perfect reading lamp. 'A fine reading nook,' I told myself happily, envisioning hours tucked away with a book.

It was the most uncomfortable chair in my house. I placed plywood under the seat cushion and propped bed pillows around me. I wasn't about to give it up. I sat in it maybe twice in three years.

With a heavy heart, I contemplated selling the chair. My son suggested photographing it, so it's not forgotten. The following summer, I posted the chair and footstool for sale on a local swap site and may have gotten back 1/10 of what it cost to ship it three years earlier.

Not long after I sold the chair, I got to thinking and realized that for the last decade or so of his life, Dad sat in a recliner -- not this chair that I was attached to. But I wasn't living with him when he purchased the recliner. The reality is that the chair and its footstool were uncomfortable for Dad in his senior years--now, my senior years.

I smile every time I see the photo. This winter, I think I'll watch some Bonanza and Red Skelton episodes. I'm sure they'll be available through one of many television streaming channels.

Time to Let it Go

Each doctor had a different acronym. The third appointment told me what I feared: 'It was time.'

She explained, "You've invested money and significant care. You've done your best. You did everything right. Fifty-some years is a long time. It's time to let it go." The theme from Disney's Frozen played in my head.

She told me the procedure would take about a half hour, and I’d remember nothing.

So, on July 1st, I bid a sad farewell to tooth number 30.

For the procedure, I opted for an intravenous anesthetic because I didn't want to hear or feel anything. Some are braver and don't mind hearing the snapping, cracking, or popping (this is where the Rice Krispies jingle plays in my mind).

If there were causes for drilling, I didn’t want to know. Tell me about it afterward or not at all.

Other patients don't mind listening to the chatter and instructions during a procedure. For them, numbing the area is enough. As for me, I treat all procedures like a colonoscopy. I don't want to hear anyone say "Oops." The surgeon's assistant told me they avoided saying that word. Still, I didn't risk it.

And, I didn't want to feel the pressure of the surgeon leaning against me as she steadied the forceps and yanked. Not me. The less I know the better I will feel afterward.

The oral surgeon was right. I don't remember anything. The gauze, swollen cheek, and sore jaw were the only reminders of the extraction. The gauze lasted an hour, the swelling is still there, and the jawbone will take several weeks to heal completely. A slight bruise appeared this morning.

I've begun my two-week menu of soft foods: cottage cheese, applesauce, mashed potatoes with melted sharp cheddar, chicken broth with noodles, eggs with lightly toasted plain bread, and chocolate pudding. My wife makes a mean protein smoothie, too. A half flat of Spooner's raspberries sits on the kitchen counter. I'll freeze them to enjoy later in the month; for now, I must stay clear of tiny seeds.

Our dog, Suzy, sensed something was amiss. Suzy isn’t a cuddler unless she’s frightened and then can’t get close enough. When I returned home after the extraction, Suzy sat next to me. I imagined she knew how I felt because she’s missing a few teeth!

So, dear readers, that’s all I have for this month. Check out my website for prior postings and some other fun stuff. www.judykiehart.com

If you’ve read Calico Lane, thank you! Please consider posting a few words as a review on www.Amazon.com/dp/0578340836

And remember to floss only the teeth you want to save!

Cheers!

Falling

Since turning sixty-five, my mantra has been "Don't fall." And I've been lucky.

The last time I took a header was during a leisurely walk with my wife and our dog. I remember feeling my foot twist, and then I was facedown on the pavement. How my glasses didn't smash into my face was one thing. How bones did not break was a miracle.

My wife said it was as if I were falling in slow motion…she said my head bounced (which was evidenced by a slightly bruised and sore-to-the-touch left cheek and the overall feeling of whiplash for days afterward). I didn't pass out. I calmly sat on the sidewalk until another dog walker from across the street helped upright me. I had no broken bones, just a cut on the side of my left hand, as that was what I attempted to brace with. And a small cut on my knee. (THEY say if you fall and people laugh, you're still young, but if you fall and people rush to your aid, you are old.”) Whoever THEY is have determined I am OLD!

I heard the story of another woman falling and landing as I did on the left side. In her case, a hip bone broke, and her left hand needed three pins in the little finger. Almost everyone who has passed age 65 has at least one 'fall' story.

Another woman suggested, "Don't ever tell your doctor you fell… it'll be the beginning of the end." I will consider it. I learned that more than half of those who fall do not tell their doctors. And falling once doubles your chances of a second fall.

Someone said we need to 'be in the moment.' That's as helpful as what THEY say.

Who are THEY anyway? who say:

Stay Relaxed: Try to stay as relaxed as possible when you feel yourself falling. Tensing up can make injuries worse.

Protect Your Head: If you're falling forward, try to tuck your chin to your chest to protect your head and neck.

Protect Your Hands: If you're falling forward, try to break your fall with your hands. However, be cautious, as this can sometimes lead to wrist injuries. If possible, try to distribute the impact across your entire arm.

Roll with the Fall: If you're falling sideways, try to roll with the fall rather than resisting it. This can help to distribute the impact and reduce the risk of injury.

Bend Your Knees: If you're falling backward, try to bend your knees to help cushion the fall.

Choose a Soft Surface: If you have the option, aim for a softer surface to fall on, such as grass or a mat, rather than a hard surface like concrete.

Some say, "Tuck and roll when you feel yourself falling."

While those hints seem helpful, who has time for analyzing one's state of relaxation and placement of hands, head, and feet?

People fall off cliffs, cruise ships, rooftops, and ladders; people fall in every room of the house. The most likely places for falling accidents for people over sixty-five are in the bathroom or while on a walk outdoors.

The CDC claims that more than two thousand people fall each day in the United States alone. There are approximately eight million emergency room visits each year because of falls.

But, then, there is this: "Falling is wonderful. 27 million skydivers can't be wrong."

With the warmer weather, we are outdoors more often. Have a great month, and please watch your step. And remember, wear your helmet!

Cheers!

Judy