Hospitality Suite

Last week I was feeling kind of tired so I decided I needed a vacation. I managed to secure a negative ECG and booked into the Toronto General Hospital.

My first accommodation was in the emergency department, aka pretty basic. The cubicles were all full so I was given a room in the Hall. I got a lot of attention there, some of it uninvited. The patient across from me in the hall was a little needy and called out for the nurse all night. When nobody came immediately, she climbed out of bed and roamed the halls calling “Nurse, Nurse!”

At 4:30 am the floor cleaning machine came along, over and over again, washing and polishing the floors. After that was finished, I was moved into a cubicle, which is really part of the hall but with a curtain around it. The noise level was the same but I had a little privacy for when my hospital “gown” came undone. The nurses visited often for blood pressure checks, ECG’s, IV installation, and medications. It was pretty hard to sleep even with all my equipment.

At breakfast time I was handed a paper bag with a cup of orange juice, and a box of Shreddies with a carton of milk. And No Coffee! I was starting to think I had booked the wrong travel agency. Until… a staff member with a wheelchair picked me up and told me I was going from the “madhouse to the penthouse!” And he was right.

I was whisked up to the 5th floor, cardiology, and into a private room. It was large and sunny with a big window, a dresser, a bedside table AND my own bathroom! Now this was living. Well almost living, except for my heart acting up. I continued having test of all sorts and visits from cardiologists who would talk to me separately and then have a conference with each other outside my door. It’s hard not to eavesdrop when that happens but, since they were speaking in medical language, I had no clue what they were saying!

Gradually the doctors and tests all arrived at the same conclusion – I needed a pacemaker. Basically I needed to be jump-started with an inside battery. Now that I was nearing the end – to my treatment that is – I was moved again, this time to a semi-private room. I still had a window, and a bathroom that I didn’t have to share because the other patient in the room was bed-ridden. And there was a lovely lounge area nearby overlooking University Avenue. By this time the food was much more edible, and served on a tray with real dishes and cutlery. I still wasn’t seeing any margaritas, but the Greek salad was quite tasty.

After my pacemaker was installed, I stayed one more night and then went home just in time for a new patient to settle in and watch the Santa Clause parade. My experience was a different kind of vacation. The staff were all friendly and helpful. The service was efficient. But what I’ll remember most? Whether in the hall or the penthouse or anywhere in between – I had family and friends texting, phoning and visiting. That part was the best!

Sue

Here’s my grand daughter Agnes’s contribution: Christmas decor

Happy Birthday

The sadness that enveloped many Canadians after the heartbreaking loss of the Blue Jays was not shared by everyone. The next day our neighbours hosted a gigantic birthday party for one of their children.

It got me reminiscing about birthday parties I have known in the past. When I was a kid back in the 1950’s, parties were pretty simple. I was allowed to have 5 or 6 friends at our house. The guests brought simple gifts like candy. One year I got a 45 rpm record – my first – Buddy Holly singing Peggy Sue. I played it till there were no grooves left.

My mom served sandwiches; the favourites were peanut butter and banana pinwheels. One year Mom got the idea to tint the milk pink. Everyone loved that milk. One girl got a stomach ache from drinking too much. Mom also used to wrap nickels and dimes in saran wrap and hide them in the cake batter. All the kids ate a lot of cake, hoping to get rich.

When my own children came along, birthday parties were becoming a little more elaborate. Parents figured out that hosting parties outside the home created a lot less mess to clean up. My kids, Jennifer and Jamie, were born 3 years apart, but both birthdays were only 2 days apart, in January. I tried hosting both birthdays at home on the same day, the older girls in the family room, and the younger boys in the rec room. It was pretty chaotic with the boys spying on the girls and the girls screaming out in protest.

The next year I took them all, 2 sets of 6 kids each, to Chuck E Cheese; the location that was recently featured in the Toronto Star. I also persuaded a couple of other parents to join us and help supervise. They must have been very good friends. The kids all got their share of “coins’ to use playing various games. They could run back to our table periodically to grab a slice of pizza or a drink. The party worked fairly well and we didn’t lose a single child. But one tiny girl somehow got back to the car with only one boot on. Everyone waited as I ran back to the restaurant, and crawled around on my hands and knees until I found the other one.

Chuck E Cheese

Another year I rented a Toronto Parks and Recreation pool for a hour. It wasn’t very expensive, maybe $50 back then, and it was an activity the kids couldn’t normally do in January. Twelve kids in a huge pool meant there weren’t any territorial arguments, and there was a lifeguard so nobody drowned. But there was a lot of sorting of wet clothes in the dressing rooms. And then they had to go back to our house for the food anyway.

I have to say that I was relieved when Jen and James grew old enough to sort out their own birthday arrangements with friends. I tried to pretend they were celebrating in a nice restaurant instead of drinking beer in a rowdy pub.

But last Sunday our neighbours hosted a party beyond belief. The front yard was already decorated to the max with Hallowe’en stuff: ghosts, spider webs, skeletons, a pumpkin family, a motion-activated scary-looking guy at the door yelling ” Beware!!” Then along came a large truck that began spewing out parts and blowing them up.

A huge structure began to take shape in their driveway. Was it a bouncy castle? I went to have a closer look. I found a maze of towers and balls that led to blow-up stairs. At the top of the stairs was a double slide as high as the second storey of the house. The view up there must have been amazing. The neighbourhood kids came to have a look too. They lined up to try out the slides. I was tempted to join the line, but then more birthday party kids began arriving in cars.

I retreated to the safety of our front window where I could watch; and think back to the good old days when parties were a lot simpler. All you had to do was tint the milk pink.

Sue

Tobie’s Trip

Readers may remember stories of Venus the dog, or Missy and Sissy the mice, moving in with us for short-term stays. It has been lonely for a while, with just Peter and me, until an unfortunate circumstance changed all that.

In early July, Tobie, along with his two-legged father Dan, and brother Ben, was heading up from New York to visit for the summer, when their car broke down. This is not just any car; it’s a fairly new Mercedes with low mileage. It had no business breaking down. Furthermore it was loaded with stuff: summer clothes, water toys, Tobie’s dog bed, and even a big bass instrument so Ben could practice his new musical skill over the summer. And it was night.

Thanks to cell phones, the car was eventually towed to a dealership while Tobie and his family found a dog-loving motel for the rest of the night. But the next day the news about the car was not good. It would have to be towed back to New York City to be fixed.

It took Dan a couple of days to find a rental vehicle that was permitted to cross the border into Canada. He finally located a pick-up truck, with a big cab, but no cover on the back. Tobie and his family climbed into the cab, but the suitcases and bass had to go in the back. As soon as they set off, it began to rain. Dan drove quickly, hoping the wind would swoosh the rain away. Mostly it did.

Finally arriving in Canada, Dan dried off the cargo, and traded in the pick-up truck for a small sedan. He met up with his wife Jenny who had flown to Toronto a few days earlier, and they all settled into their summer home. After all that stress, Tobie was relieved to be in a familiar place with his dad. Meanwhile the Mercedes sat at the New York City dealership waiting for spare parts.

The summer came and went, and nothing else bad happened. Ben practiced on his bass and Tobie carried on with his life of eating and sleeping and sometimes walking. Then it was time to go back to New York. The Mercedes was now waiting for an entire new engine from Germany. The rental car was too small to take them all home along with their suitcases and bass and Tobie. And then it would have to be driven back to Canada anyway. There really was no option but to fly home. But what about the bass and Tobie? Should Dan pay for 2 extra seats on the plane, or stow them in cargo – to what fate?

Dear readers you already know the answer. The bass is sitting in our basement. As for Tobie, he has settled in quite well. He sleeps in his bed in our bedroom and hardly ever snores. He wanders around our back yard and sniffs. He licks the dinner plates before they go in the dishwasher. He has figured out how to take a running leap and land on the couch. He has made friends with several other dogs in the neighbourhood.

But mostly he waits by the front door, hoping his dad will come by in a vehicle, any vehicle, to pick him up.

Sue

WAIT TIMES

In the last couple of months, we have found our calendar notations changing. A Lot! Instead of being used for social purposes, now the calendar looks more like a medical journal.

Back in May, Peter and I had time for lots of fun activities: a Jays game, some meet-ups with friends, fitness classes followed by coffee, Peter’s poker party, lunch with our “bridge group,” even a short trip to Montreal! Then all that changed. Lately we have been spending our time in doctors’ waiting rooms.

With a bang, I fell and fractured a bone in my shoulder, which required almost 7 hours in a hospital, wheeling from waiting room, to exam area, to sling-fitting room, and back to waiting room. All that was before I even escaped from the hospital the first time! Then I was required to return 3 times for follow-up consultations. Besides that, I had physiotherapy appointments twice a week for several weeks. But at least the wait time for those is usually short.

Peter’s eye doctor was up next. Her office is the worst. I usually go with him just to pass the time together. First we wait in line to see the receptionist. Then we wait for the tests: distance, eye pressure, pictures of behind the eyeball and so on. Then we wait to see the actual doctor. And on this last visit, we waited to see yet another person to arrange cataract surgery for Peter. That surgery requires 4 more appointments; one for measuring the eye, two for the eye operations, and a final one for follow-up.

Then last week I began to feel some shortness of breath. I figured it was the heat or the poor air quality so I ignored it for a while. Then I gave in and got an appointment with my family doctor and of course she ordered tests. So last Thursday I had to cancel golf and spend the morning in waiting rooms for blood work and chest Xray. Then the cardiologist’s office called to give me an appointment for next week, and I had a choice: cancel Peter’s cataract surgery OR cancel golf – again! How unfair is that?

On top of that, the dentist has started leaving phone messages about our semi-annual cleaning. She wants her share of our time too.

I know that we are very lucky to have these services so close and so available. And the wait times are easy to manage when one of us runs next door to Tim’s for coffee and muffins. Then we open our devices and read about people in many other countries who wait a week or a month for a bag of flour. Sometimes they even die while waiting. How unfair is that??

Life is pretty darned good in Canada. So if/when you find yourself in a doctor’s waiting room, use the time to learn more about our country’s wonderful people, including our 2 budding athletic stars: Summer McIntosh and Vicky Mboko, and our top-ranking Blue Jays team. One day in the future they too will be in doctors’ waiting rooms.

Sue

PS Sorry this is late – but, and this is the Truth – I was in a waiting room from 7:30 am till almost 11!!

Life With One Arm

It’s been an interesting week with lots of challenges; big and small. I have heard from so many dear readers who have learned to cope with a similar situation. For example, who knew that so many women, living in first-world countries, have discovered so many unique ways to do up bras with one arm?

Since tripping on Queen St a week ago and watching my left arm turn green and yellow, I have realized that my wardrobe is entirely insufficient for life is a single-arm person. I have only one dress that buttons up the front. My pants all have zippers. My socks are too tight for one-hand pulling. As for putting on earrings – forgedabboudit. Make-up goes to the bottom of the list too, and my hair gets only half-brushed. In this state I really can’t leave the house because who wants to see a wrinkly old lady in a wrinkly old nighty wandering the streets barefoot?

The kitchen is like a war zone – every knife out to stab me, every mug set to tip over and spill hot coffee, every package of rice overflowing from the measuring cup onto the floor where I step. Anything requiring 2 arms, like pulling a tray of wings out of the oven or retrieving heavy bowls from a top shelf, is out of the question. For added inconvenience, the dishwasher, loaded to the brim with dirty dishes, joined in the battle and shut down completely on Friday.

In the meantime, I have Peter. Peter is quite familiar with tossing salads, cooking eggs, making pasta dishes, and cleaning up. He is good on the BBQ too, and he knows where to find the cooked chickens at COSTCO. He has no issue with using paper plates. He even has restaurant coupons stockpiled! I am so grateful.

We also had Venus the dog staying with us until 2 days ago. She was pretty stressed when her Nana was missing in action for 11 hours on the day I fell. She rushed to greet me at the door, did a few sniffs, and began frantically licking my face and knee where there were some scrapes. She seemed to sense that I was in pain. Our walks became slower and she did not pull on the leash, even when she did her morning dump. My job was a little more complicated; step on the leash, climb into the ditch, grab the turds with the bag in my good hand, climb out of the ditch and continue.

Here is the latest news; yesterday I had my appointment with the fracture clinic for an update. I am moving along …slowly, and my sling will be part of my life for a few more weeks. I found another dress that I can put on by myself. Venus has gone home and I miss her. Peter is still hanging around, thank heavens. But the best is that today the dishwasher repairman cometh!

Sue

Outside in my nightie covered by my raincoat, while Venus sits on guard

Walking For Brain Health

On the last 2 weekends, Peter and I signed up to go with our doctor daughter on 2 fundraising walks; one for Alzheimers’ disease, and one for University Health Network which does a lot of research on brain health. They were both fun – getting new tee-shirts, doing warm-ups with the adults and children, admiring the many different breeds of dogs, adding lots of steps to our fitbits, and holding up traffic as we crossed major intersections.

The routes varied; the Alzheimers walk started at Fort York and went south along the waterfront, and back to the starting point, about 3 kilometers in total. Although it was cool, Lake Ontario was enticing as always. Boats were already sailing and people were sitting on benches with their coffee, enjoying the view. The finishing line greeters went wild with flags and balloons, welcoming about 500 of us back home to burgers and drinks.

This past weekend, the walk was quite different. Approximately ten times as many participants, about 5000 people, of all ages, gathered at Toronto General Hospital’s parking lot, walked to Toronto Western Hospital, and back. It was more fast-paced and crowded, and the walk through Chinatown was like being in another country.

As we got close to the finish line, Peter suggested we take a Spadina Street detour down to see the construction on the Ontario subway line which runs not far from his investment condo. This was probably ill-advised because, as we rushed back to catch up with the other walkers, I tripped and went splat onto Queen St. My shoulder really hurt and I had broken my glasses. Doctor Andrea said we should probably go to emerg. to see what else had broken. Yikes. Like magic, an ambulance appeared and whisked me off to the finish line -Toronto General Hospital.

Now readers, you may be thinking that I was trying to cheat and arrive at the finish line early, but that is definitely not so. I waited with Andrea for about 7 hours, well past the end of the event. Since I am old I needed to have, not only xrays on my shoulder, but also blood tests and a CT scan to check for brain injury. The irony of the walk to get to the hospital was not lost on us.

Looking on the bright side; I picked a good place to fall – with Andrea there, and the hospital nearby. I have a small non-displacement fracture on my shoulder which is likely to heal without issue, a few scrapes on my face and one knee, and glasses broken on only one side. The bad thing is that I am finding out how many things you can’t do with only one arm!

Stay upright everyone and keep all 4 limbs going if you can.

Sue

Life In the Snow Lane

For the past couple of winters we have been almost pining for a big dump of snow. It’s sparkly and clean, and it opens doors to activities outside. But during the past week we have had that big dump, over and over again. And we are somewhat overwhelmed. How did we manage to forget all the difficulties and disruptions that snow can bring?

After Peter and I saw the first snow we got ready to go outdoors. First we had to dig out our insulated high boots, the ones with the good grip. Our usual shoe/boots would not make it through the drifts, or keep us steady on the ice buried underneath. Then we found mittens because gloves just don’t keep fingers warm enough. As the crowning touch, Peter uncovered his Russian-style hat with ear flaps, and I put on my ear muffs. We were fashionistas!

On Friday the driveway had to be shovelled and Peter found our electric snow-blower which he hadn’t used in 2 or 3 years. It cleared the driveway just fine, but the piles at the end of the driveway left by the city plows were just too much for that little engine. After Peter tried the shovel, with little to show for his effort, a lovely younger neighbour from across the street offered to help. The excitement of shovelling was starting to wear thin so without hesitation Peter said yes.

When we were able to get the car out, we went canvassing for our local provincial candidate. The wind was howling and many sidewalks were not plowed. We had to climb over piles and drifts so we could walk on the road. Then we had to climb back over the plies to get to the homes, where the front steps were usually slippery. When we knocked on the front door, nobody was home. Or maybe they were home and just not opening the door to the cold winter winds. Who could blame them? According to records, this is the first election held in the winter since 1887, thanks to you-know-who.

Our candidate’s sign is almost buried.

On Saturday afternoon our extended family visited us to eat Canadian roast beef and help celebrate 3 family birthdays. Our daughter, who was bringing the salad, showed up at the door at 1:00 pm while I was still in my pyjamas. She had delivered the salad all the way from Orangeville and then, after a quick visit, she and her husband and the dog drove back to Orangeville before the snow got really heavy. This was a big sacrifice with little gain for them. I couldn’t even give them any (as yet uncooked) roast beef.

I hurried to get dressed before the next guests began arriving at 2:00. While I cooked the roast and set the table, the young dads and their sons bundled up and set out on a trip to the toboggan hill. Peter followed with his ipad so he could take pictures. They returned an hour later, all snowy, red-faced, and smiling, and we all ate dinner together. We hurried through the birthday cake course so everyone could clear off their cars and try to drive home. They made it safely, but it was a slow go.

On Sunday morning we looked out to see even more snow. Peter found numerous ways to delay his daunting task. He read the newspaper which the carrier had somehow delivered during the night, he helped me clean up the kitchen, he even took a short nap. Then he donned his Russian hat and went out. But a surprise awaited – the driveway was clear! Another wonderful neighbour, this one with a monster snow blower, had beaten him to it.

One really good thing about snow – it brings out the generosity of family, friends and neighbours.

Sue

Traditions

So now that Christmas is over, we can go shopping for next year! Only joking…take at least today off and relax.

After I described our Advent Window activity in last week’s post, several readers wrote to tell me about holiday traditions they have experienced. Some people talked about going downtown to see the Eaton’s or Simpson’s windows, in the “olden days” when such stores existed. The windows always had moving parts: scampering mice, scurrying elves, moving conveyor belts with toys under construction, and a winking Santa sitting in a rocking chair and checking his naughty list.

Then Santa moved inside the store, and kids lined up for a visit and a chance to take a picture on Santa’s lap, while the parents got out their wallets. Next there were the years of Breakfast with Santa. We took our grandchildren a couple of times but unfortunately breakfast was ignored as the kids spent their time checking out the pile of wrapped packages and figuring out which one Santa was going to give them.

A popular neighbourhood tradition – rows of blow-up Santas. We have a few in our area – a Santa with a green parcel in one hand and a candy cane in the other. Walmart must have had a sale. Apparently one street in Toronto, Inglewood Drive, has over 50 of them. Pretty amazing until the power goes off. Then you have a whole lot of “dead” Santas lying on the boulevard. Not a good Christmas look.

Readers reported about several versions of the Santa Claus parade. A friend, who spends the winter playing golf in Florida, wrote about the Golf Cart Parade: Christmas-themed golf carts being shown off by golfers driving around the local streeets instead of on the links. I was reminded of when we lived in the country and the farmers in Schomberg held the Tractor Parade. They would decorate their fork lifts, or back hoes, or manure spreaders, and spread cheer along the main street.

Lots of families share traditional gifts. Sometimes parents buy the kids new pyjamas every year, which the kids open on Christmas Eve and wear to bed. Under any other corcumstances, this would be seen as a cop-out by the kids: ” What? You bought me CLOTHES?” But disguise it as a tradition and everyone is excited.

In our family, my son and I trade an old book that neither of us has ever read; we just take turns giving it to one another. Neither of us can remember how this tradition started. This year it was my turn to be the recipient. The package was disguised as a …Book! Still, I didn’t guess it. Duh

My son is delighted at this turn of events; one year soon he’ll be sneaking into my house ahead of Christmas, taking anything of mine he wants, and wrapping it up for me. And, as my memory fades, I’ll open it and say: “Oh how lovely! I used to have something just like this. It’s perfect.”

Christmas is now just 364 days away. It’s not too early to start planning your traditions.

Sue

The famous book