TIME OUT

 

I am taking a winter break from blogging. Normally I love the holidays and look forward to them, but not this time around.

2021 has been a terrible year. I've been fighting off a depression the like of which I haven't experienced in decades. And I'm sure no one wants to read about it.

But I'm determined to at least enjoy Christmas, and maybe New Year's, also my 71st birthday which falls shortly afterward. -- Despite the fact I'm just NOT feeling it.

So I plan to throw myself into the many things I enjoy! Plus I'm going to be spending some significant time on my (in progress) new novel. Doing this, detracts me from those awful things that have attached themselves to my life right now; blogging (although great therapy) only makes me wallow in them.

LIFE AMONG THE FLINTSTONES

 

That's exactly how it felt! The only things missing were Fred & Wilma. For three and a half days I was part of the modern Stone Age family without a phone, TV, or internet!

And worse I had surgery coming up and no way to contact the doctor's office or vise versa should an emergency arise. But thanks to my friend Marie dropping over the day before and lending me her cellphone I was able to learn (in time) that my surgery had been rescheduled!

I was grateful that at least I still had electricity! Power outages are far more common than they should be where I live. So there was a bright side. I could work offline on my latest novel without telemarketers constantly interrupting me. -- No I never answer, but I have to get up and listen to my answering machine in case it's someone I actually want to speak to, or an emergency.

Due to posterior vitreous detachment following cataract surgery I have eye floaters of all varieties: big black ones, small brown ones, and gel ones too, along with light flashes. Working on the computer AFTER DARK has become too much of a strain as is reading.

Thankfully I'd been gifted with a DVD player by my friend Rose when my beloved Starz-Showtime package became too pricey for me. For several years now I've been collecting DVDs for emergencies such as this one.

Since I could count on being without for at least three days I chose the multi-pack selection of horror movies I'd purchased from a church rummage sale. Four movies were on each of the three disks. I'd already seen half of these 1970's flicks and the six remaining were cheesy and lame. I felt my brain rotting. One was so bad that I fast-forwarded thru the entire second half.

I was thrilled when the ATT truck arrived early on the fourth day! -- I had no idea it was fated to be a stressful and long one.

To make a long story short, the tech replaced my ancient modem and got my phone and computer working. However my two TVs kept freezing. The man couldn't understand why and called another tech over. The two tried all types of maneuvers, but to no avail. They gave up and left, but assured me another tech would be arriving.

An hour later, another arrived and was equally mystified!  He made numerous calls to ATT. Eventually he told me not to worry because he had the "Big Dogs" on the line and this problem was going to be solved. The problem was on their end!!! Around 4:00 PM this was fixed. --At LONG last!!!

Once again I had a toe in the 21st century.

SCARFACE

 

I'll admit to being a vain woman! I'm a firm believer in putting your best face out there. I admire and cheer on people who take pride in their appearance. I've even co-authored a healthy lifestyle beauty manual for women on a fixed income.

This is why being informed by a doctor that I'd be left with a facial scar after surgery came as unsettling news! The location on my face (above the upper corner on the right side of my lip & into the crease on my cheek) was a factor. It's where the skin gets stretched regularly.

I am not about to stop eating, talking, smiling, or laughing; although I've been doing a lot less of the latter two. Also I am not going to cut back on brushing or flossing my teeth.

The dermatologist called this "a significant wound". Not only would I have a scar but it would lift the corner of my mouth. I'd look as if I'd had a stroke! He immediately sent me to a plastic surgeon.

The first thing the nurse said when the plastic surgeon entered the room was, "Look at her skin! Can you believe she's actually 70!"

Yes, thanks to decades of sunscreen, broad brim hats, and umbrellas my skin does appear amazingly youthful for a 70 year old! My friend Marie told me, "I can understand why you're so upset; outside of the cancer your skin is perfect!"

Yeah, and I am pissed as hell because for decades I was careful and did everything right!

The plastic surgeon stated that stitches wouldn't do, I required a skin graft. The scar would be relocated to another area of my face.

 I had no idea how deep the wound was until I put my finger into it to apply ointment. This was a shock! It's a bloody pit in my face.

I was instructed to keep it moist. My wound must never be allowed to form a scab, or the scar will be much worse!

The plastic surgeon stated I could wait until it healed for the skin graft. I told him the dermatologist said the exact opposite.

"You're a pretty lady," he replied, "and he didn't want to risk messing up your face, but repairing a scar can be done anytime."

This was welcome news! I had just paid my whopping property taxes and the skin cancer surgery, plus the office visits, biopsy, & pathologist cost were all adding up! Despite my age, I'm ineligible for social security or Medicare. (Long story!) If I ever have a heart attack, stroke, or even a serious bout with cancer I'd better just plan on dying!

During my teens and twenties I had scars on various parts of my body for different reasons. By the time I was 50 barely a trace of them remained. However I no longer have the luxury of time.

But I want to see how the scar actually looks after everything heals. I may just decide to live with it. It will be a year or more before I know for sure. In the meantime, for selfish reasons I hope people will continue to wear masks for a long time to come.

TWO NASTY SURPRISES -- ACTUALLY THREE

 

NO FOUR BUT WHOSE COUNTING

At the beginning of the pandemic, right after the lockdown, I noticed a mystery bump on my face that I thought was a giant pimple. When my go-to remedy of egg white failed to shrink it I tried every over-the-counter product on the market. That only made it angry!

After two years of this I noticed it was growing and had a weird looking uneven border. I knew it was time to consult a dermatologist.

He declared it suspicious and it needed to be biopsied. Surgery might be required. "You're going to have a scar," he told me before cutting into my face for the biopsy.

No woman wants to hear that! Unlike men, our appearance is important to us. And I've always been proud of my firm, youthful skin rare among people my age. Plus this was in a noticeable spot; above the corner of my upper right lip and into the crease of my cheek.

Nervously I awaited the biopsy results. I was sure it would be benign. I'd been wearing sunscreen religiously since I was 25 on the advice of a dermatologist. This one said the problem began in childhood before sunscreen was invented, back when everyone believed the sun was healthy, one of the benefits of being raised in Florida.

I recall when I began wearing sunscreen along with broad brim hats; I'd even open an umbrella if the sun became too bright. And I was often ridiculed for being so cautious! I heard remarks such as: "The sun can't hurt you any! That doctor is crazy! He should lose his license for giving you advice like that!" -- Similar to remarks today about the Covid vaccine!

I was shocked when I received the results, it was cancerous, a basal cell carcinoma and I was going to need surgery! My friends were all shocked as well that it happened to ME who had always been so careful.

But my memory was jogged! At age 15 because my natural blonde hair had darkened I took a bottle of lemon juice along with tanning lotion for my skin and sat out in the sun for hours, I was tired of being that pale girl on the beach who was constantly ridiculed in the TV commercials!

Well the lemon juice didn't lighten my hair and when I showed up for school the following Monday I had a new set of freckles all over my face and body. I wince about that now.

Also I believe my trips to Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands, and Thailand factored in. All are extremely sunny places and I was outdoors sightseeing, often in boats or on top of elephants. A hat only protected the top half of my face and sunscreen wears off. 

Now that surgery was required I'd be left with an even bigger, uglier scar than with the biopsy due to the location. This was an area of the face where the skin gets stretched.

However a scar was still better than the alternative. Thank goodness people were still wearing masks. I'd be needing one more than ever!

My surgery was scheduled for a Wednesday. The Monday before around 8:30 AM I turned on my computer after which I went back into the kitchen to put the breakfast dishes away. From there I heard a boom in my computer room. I soon discovered that I was unable to connect to the internet. And worse; my phone & TV were also out!

I don't own a cellphone. (Yeah I'm THAT person!) So I had to go next door to borrow theirs. ATT wanted to send a repairman over on Wednesday. I informed them I was having surgery then, besides I needed it before that! The doctor's office might need to reach me!

Thursday AM was the best they could do! I was going to be without everything but electricity for 3 miserable days. The last time this happened was well over a decade ago on a 4th of July weekend. My friend Pat (now deceased) who lived in North Florida tried for days to reach me.

Her call came thru while the repairman was here. She told me that had I not picked up, her next call would have been to the police. She feared I'd been murdered!

So now I was soon to undergo surgery and no one would be able to reach me afterward. And all of my friends will think I died!

My friend Marie, unable to contact me came knocking on my door. We sat and had coffee together. I mentioned that the doctor's office might be trying to get in touch with me. She whipped out her cellphone and told me to call them.

Gadzooks! They had been trying to reach me all day! The pathologist was unavailable and my surgery needed to be rescheduled!

Had Marie not come over, I would have gotten up extra early the following morning and driven there only to be sent home!!!

And had I known about this Monday I could have had ATT here and everything would have been restored a day earlier. UGH!!!

LET THERE BE DARKNESS

 

Ah, Eastern Standard Time is only days away! If you know me at all, you know how much I hate Daylight Savings Time! Here in Florida we get way too much heat and sunshine as it is!

Eastern Standard Time means cooler temperatures and the holidays (best time of the year) will soon be arriving along with the early darkness!

I recall that 100 acre estate my family rented when I was a child. One of the many things I miss about those days is that it was allowed to be dark outside. Here, where I currently live, the homes are all lit up like road houses.

I loved and miss that feeling of sitting outside in darkness lit up only by stars and fireflies. It felt almost magical! At night the crickets and bullfrogs were so loud they sounded like a stadium speaker. To me, it was white noise and lulled me to sleep. I found it comforting.

People noise is the exact the opposite! Many times I've been awakened by cars after midnight with their music blaring or people walking by outside gabbing loudly. It's annoying and an invasion of my solitude!

But I realize the world has changed dramatically since my childhood. We are all less safe! Thus the reason my father insisted on a house with neighbors close by.

However I felt far safer on the isolated 100 acre property! Fewer people knew we were there. It was way more private! No strange cars ever drove by that house. Yes I know, all it takes is just one of the wrong people to discover your whereabouts!

Here, I have a bright light in the front yard plus a streetlamp that lights up my entire back yard. And my neighbor's homes are so lit-up that I receive plenty of their fallout.

My neighbors on the south side were the worst! When they moved in over a decade ago their blazing side and back lights shined directly into my home which has lots of big picture windows. Back then I had paper thin white blinds that were useless.

I prefer watching TV in the dark and this was intrusive! One even shone directly into my face as I tried to enjoy it. I complained but they ignored me!

For the sake of my sanity I was forced to purchase expensive heavy blinds that block out all light. But they proved to be worth every cent! They're dark gray and match my carpet. When opened during the day they hang like drapes and look lovely. Best money I ever spent!

PUNK PINK IN 85

 

Back in 1999 my father & I had just moved to Vero Beach. We were out in the car when I spotted a teenage boy with purplish-pink hair on the sidewalk.

“Does that bring back memories?” I laughed as I motioned toward the kid.

Dad just shook his head. He didn't want to remember.

Back in 1985 I was 34 years old and sported bleached blonde tresses that reached down to the middle of my chest.

A new product was introduced promising a "temporary" color change that was supposed to wash out. I'd always wondered what I'd look like as a redhead so I purchased a bottle. It was a foam and easy to apply.

 But after it dried, my hair was a NEON PINK!!!

To say the least I was startled! However my parents were ready to disown me; despite the fact I kept insisting it was only temporary.

However to my horror it refused to wash out! My light bleached hair had grabbed the color!

I couldn't stay home; there were too many things that needed doing. Among them was grocery shopping. All throughout the store people stared at me with mouths agape. My parents were ashamed to be seen with me.

On the way home I got out of the car to mail a letter. Two women driving by slowed their car almost to a halt staring at me as if I was Mt. Rushmore.

Neighbors wanted to know what was going on with this new hair color of mine. Fortunately I had a good excuse. -- Thankfully it happened to be Halloween week! However when they inquired as to my plans I stumbled for an answer. And my face probably turned the color of my hair.

The only thing I had planned was to watch horror movies at home, which is my favorite way to spend Halloween since I was too old for trick-or-treating.

But then, I decided why not embrace this for the holiday! I asked my friend Pat to go to lunch with me along with my neon hair on Halloween Day. We could both wear costumes!

Pat informed me that she would feel too conspicuous. Other friends and family told me likewise and I didn't have the confidence to go alone.

After Halloween, my good excuse was gone but the neon pink remained. I had to do something fast! I phoned the Clairol hotline for answers as I often did back then. But this time, they refused to help me because it wasn't their product!

I pleaded almost in tears. Then explained that I use their product for lightening and this would interfere when it came time for a touch-up. They relented and told me to use something called Metalex. I did and it removed the neon part, but not the pink.

The pink remained stubborn even after many applications of Metalex. I was left with long pinkish blonde hair.

The following week my Aunt & Cousin Clarence were coming down to spend the winter in Florida again. It was the height of the season with lots of events going on. Clarence & I enjoyed them together.

But I wondered how he was going to react to my new hair color.

"Clarence will be embarrassed to be seen with you!" my mother stated. "People will think he's out with some hooker!"

So I decided to try something different. I had an ash rinse that I used after bleaching to tone down the brassiness. I tried that and ended up with ash-pinkish blonde hair which thankfully was not as attention grabbing!

Eventually, over time the pink SLOWLY washed out.

Later around the year 2000, a particular TV commercial struck close to home. It featured a middle-aged woman crying in her bathroom because of a hair dying accident.

Her sympathetic husband says, "Oh well, we'll just have to cancel our dinner plans at Outback."

Seconds later, she emerges with pink hair. "I'll get my coat!" she replies.

At the restaurant a young waiter approaches and exclaims, "Wow you are so RAD, lady!"

She raises her head and beams with pride.

Well I was "RAD" too, a long time before.  --  Only then, it wasn't called that!

F.Y.I. in 2001 I became a flaming redhead, loved that color and kept it until age 65.

A SAD REMINISCENCE

 

October 16 2021 will be the 20th anniversary of my father's death. Finally, it feels like 20 years. The 10th still felt as if he died only the day before.

Probably because Dad was lingering about in spirit, there were numerous signs. I've blogged about this in the past so we won't revisit it here. 

This year also marked the 20th remembrance of the 9-11 tragedy. It will forever be linked with my father's passing in my thoughts. He died only a short time later on 10-16.

Dad served in WWII; first stationed in Monterey, California and later in occupied Japan. There, he became friends with a Japanese family. They corresponded with ours after he left the service, but contact was lost after we moved to Florida in 1952 the year after I was born.

My father was the only person I've ever known who was equally skillful with his hands as he was with his mind. Never did we require handyman! Anything that broke he'd reach for his toolbox and fix. And he did as well or better than a professional!

Plus he was a mathematical whiz! He could do everything in his head! And Dad could look at a lengthy list of figures and immediately spot the one that was wrong or out of sync. Unfortunately neither my brother nor I inherited these skills. And I'm worse! I have dyscalculia and struggle with even simple math.

My father followed the stock market closely. He had numerous charts and graphs in his home office. Once, he claimed it was controlled and showed me the evidence. Of course his explanation went straight over my head. But I'm inclined to believe him.

Dad suffered 2 heart attacks during his lifetime. The last requiring a triple bypass. However it was cancer that eventually brought him down. In between he was stricken with a stroke that left him paralyzed on one side. 

I recall when my father turned 80. He appeared so young and healthy I thought I'd have him around at least well into his 90's. My father was active, sharp mentally, and was a healthy eater. I never imagined he'd go downhill so quickly after that birthday. He died at 85 the same age as his chain-smoking father.

A Hospice worker told me that his body was programmed to die at that age. I hate to think we have so little control.  

Dad was a handsome man right up until illness started taking its toll. I used to watch with amusement as women flirted outrageously with him. A sex obsessed therapist of mine wanted to meet him. I told her NO because she'd probably fall in love with him! He didn't need another woman complicating his life.

My father was also an excellent provider. Our family lacked for nothing! At one time he held a high paying prestigious job at a corporation. We lived well and owned high-end everything! That changed when I turned 14. The corporation went belly-up thanks to the skullduggery of the man above him.

Dad was almost 50 years old at the time. Employers were all hiring far younger men for less money. For years we lived off savings and his investments. Still, we lacked for nothing, but creature comforts and luxuries became far and few between.

When I was 20, Dad bought a florist shop with a wedding chapel attached on the suggestion of his financial advisor. I worked with him there for nearly a decade. It was a job we both came to hate for the same reasons; the long hours, difficult customers, and thieving employees. He was happy to sell and retire.

But sadly, Dad never recovered psychologically from the loss of his job at the corporation. That was his niche, not the flower shop! He remained bitter about this till the day he died.