Hawaii is over, Hawaii is still here.
The trip is over but some memories stay, and the idea that problems are just things to be overcome, that stays. The attitude that I am a valued member of society remains. But the last two memories or ideas are under assault: phone calls daily, from wheelchair sports collecting money, from Triumph who says they have been trying to get in contact (“When?”, “Uh, I believe I called in June.”) as they want $700 to avoid putting a computer unused due to glitches on the loan program. VIHA, Beacon, is there anyone who doesn’t call not giving a damn about me compared to the forms. I still have no GP, the walk-in clinic cancels the specials or tests ordered. I long for the time when people saw overcoming obstacles as something good, when at Badminton a player tries to claim a point because I was wheeling by (off court), “Wheelchair near court! Interfere! My point!” He later looks at me, realizes he will be in a match with a female wheelchair user, and takes his racket out of the line up, then puts it back to end up on the court minutes after me. Try putting ‘Jew’ instead of wheelchair and see how that sounds.
I worry I left the best part of my on the Big Island.
Lungs, heart and nerves are withering, are dying. I live a life of oxygen and dusky fingers. I am adept at using my teeth for many things now. And the signals, the heat has increased in my upper spine, above the T-section. And by increased that means I am on 3 pain killers during the day, and at night the strongest, 5 pain killers, 2 sedatives, and then a spray of medicinal marijuana onto my cheek to help it absorb in minutes. I hallucinate. I bite my lip, my tongue.
And I scream. How can I hold on to something, squeeze something to help me take the pain when I can’t feel my hands? I live by watching what my limbs are doing, I have gross motor function, felt or not: a crane operator. But the spine, it burns literally, while my body is goosebumped in shock it burns hot as I scream, my voice husky from a lack of oxygen. I don’t know how long? As many breaths until my lungs can’t push out any more.
I asked advice. What to do when the future is here? When it is seen? Spend more time with Linda, spend more time with squirrels.
I can do that. We have polite squirrels who often have a ‘a peanut for a starving squirrel artist?’ look. 
Yes and peacocks. The ones who aren’t thin are the ones who are bold. We found a pair of squirrels, both blacks (the smart ones) and one was getting peanuts every 30 seconds, running off and burying them. The other squirrel was digging up the recently buried peanut and eating it. Squirrel #1 hadn’t caught on yet by the time we left. I hope they are siblings.
We met an offspring or cousin to Psycho I call Fearless. Fearless is one squirrel who is going to survive the winter. Why? Because as Cheryl said, “That squirrel will be mugging old ladies for Chicklets.” Well, as to mugging, she would know.
As for me, I perfer my squirrels to view me as sort of like the bookmobile, I am the peanutmobile and all they need do is climb up and take a look at what is on offer.
Fearless, upon returning, would run across 200-300 yards before leaping at least four feet away and landing halfway or more up my leg. Now I know what a tree branch feels like (and isn’t peripheral neuropathy good as he was using claws). I could feel the whump of force through the wheelchair. But at the end of the day it turns out he is quite picky, 
Fearless the gourmet? Or just wanting the highest calorie content?
As you can see by the leg, as he starts to eat after mugging Cheryl, Fearless has had plenty of action like fights. There is a claw mark on his back, likely a crow. This must be why he is basically sitting atop the person he just mugged and having a sandwich.
Luckily Cheryl didn’t mind. See, we have VERY disability friendly squirrels (the people, ehhh, not so much – as we had been just been to a pumpkin farm and found it hard to find space in the disabled parking full of race cars and family vans, without a single blue badge in sight).
As we wheeled home, since I had frostbite in one hand, after turning off our cameras, a full grown bald eagle flew over us, just above treetop. She had a whole branch in her claws, nest building was my guess. There is one bald eagle at least in the park, but rarely seen. It seemed a good time to go home, falling under the shadow of the bald eagle.
The pain is still here, the fear of living without a net medically, the isolation, the daily times of being helped to breath, to clear the passageway, passing out due to lack of oxygen, the inability to move at all more and more often. I look into a future which realistically has no hope and want what everyone else does: living, a job, a social net, family. On one hand, VIHA has been hinting at a care facility. On the other, I am still planning a new trip while paying for the last, while sending out postcards and thank you’s. The race to use my hands has never been more painful, aching and conscious. No, I haven’t been well but I force myself out anyway. I force myself to do so many things, and now, I force myself to step back and take time to be here, and grieve a little bit.
It was too hard to face things. So my degeneration progressed. Starting today, a ‘Good Day’ isn’t a day when I am mentally like I was, or had a competitive experience, but one in which I didn’t scream, in which I smiled, or just stared at clouds. It is time to stop hating myself for the parts and times of me which aren’t as close to my Able Bodied Life as I could get.
As the last weekends had been the 10K and the breakwater, I needed to catch up on postcards from the postcard project to make sure all the people who had requested a postcard or hadn’t gotten anything but bills lately got something nice! Plus, Linda had found a ‘stamp exchange’ starting at 10:00 am at a local hotel, where those who do stamping, using the rubber stamps we use on the postcards were going to do an exchange. So we worked until 4 a.m. matching the names from the list ‘just the right’ postcard: everything from WWII pin-up girls to exotic music instruments made in New Zealand.
We only got a few hours sleep but wanted to be there when it opened at 10 a.m.. We didn’t know what to expect, as it could be people asking huge prices or only a few stamps. We wheeled into a room to find myself in heaven: Tables everywhere stacked with wood blocked stamps and I couldn’t decide where to wheel to first! Ahhh! What if others got ahead of me? The collecting bug was on me. Cheryl and I went to the first table and I immediately found a Coronado Tiger. We only use about four companies: Coronado (they do animals, large blocks of wood and deep cuts!), PSX (out of print and expensive! One woman there said she paid $75 for a single wood blocked stamp) as they make unique series and images, Hero arts (top quality and deep cut), and Stamp Oasis (out of print as is Our Lady of Rubber and Magenta). There was a Tiger for $5 (if I use it 100 times on postcards, that is only 5 cents a use!). It normally goes for $30. Do I look happy holding it and a PSX complex farm yard that I found for $7?
So I went to each table, finding PSX, Hero Arts, (that was the only Coronado I was to find), and other companies, looking at the stamps and building a stack, then paying and leaving Cheryl to put them in the bag or putting them in my backpack (I got a compliment as someone noticed how cool it looked when I came in!). I hit a table every 2 minutes on average. All Linda said was, “You should have seen her at the book sales”. I got a set of Hero Arts flowers for $4 (that is 4 stamps for $4), I found another set of 4 at another table, and 2 mini's.
These are the kind of Stamps we order five of, and pay $40. It was like a giant boost to the diversity of stamps I have and can send out, one section mostly botanical, and then other was cars and people. Some of the really obscure stuff wasn't there but there was a lot of really good things like borders and a few animals. But yes, after I did the rounds ONCE, Linda came and looked for child appropriate stamps and then I looked at other stamps I had missed.
And so at the end, this is what we got, in terms of ink and stamps. We FINALLY got some dark green (deep forest green) as well as a good purple. Ahhhh, I needed that. I even managed to find a Stamp Oasis Japanese stamp of a Lady doing her hair in her kimono in front of a lacquer table.
Go Stamp Exchange!
So, then it was back to matching and after a nap, we started stamping. Well we didn’t start, first we had to choose ONLY a few of the stamps we had bought that day for what turned out to be the 81-84 postcards for the postcard project we were about to stamp. It was hard but of course the TIGER had to come.
(I love that tiger, he looks good in black and white but he looks LOVELY in green for some reason). All the stamps but one are new ones we just got at the stamp exchange. Cool, yes? Linda found the mini monkey stamped in the corner.
So we had the stamps then we spent and hour trying them out with different colors to find out what the right color for each stamp was. Because of the neuropathy I can’t paint in the different colors, I have to find one color, or at best two (press on one side with one color and on the other side with the other) to stamp with. Linda can do a few ‘special’ ones with her secret practice, like the cat and chasing the butterfly and I can, after 30 minutes of work, could do the thatched roof farm, with the watering can and lettuce, the greenhouse, the stone wall, the ivy, trees, door and wood bench so it looked somewhat natural – it was hard, hard work.
I also did the red berries, but only once or twice and then my hands couldn't anymore. Also with the different textures, it meant a slick texture postcard came out mushy looking while a different paper might absorb all the color. As has happened here with my lady doing her hair in the Kimono,
but I was still very proud to see these Stamps, from the ‘Exchange’ (our money for their stamps!) in use. It was great to know these postcards were going to New Zealand, Australia, UK, Canada, US, Africa and other islands and hopefully people would like the images (who could not love the tiger?).
We didn’t finished until 6:20 a.m. and went to bed and slept. Then it was up and writing for me, writing and writing, all the US and overseas postcards, plus any post stamping stickers. Hour after hour, I sit in a room and think about a person, then write a message, and notes about my life, then on to the next card. 68 postcards went out today (already moving by van and airplane!), and the rest will be ready tomorrow. But after three hours it was time for a break: Squirrels.
The sun was going down but it turned out that there were a FEW squirrels that wanted to see a wheelchair (with peanuts)!
Cheryl met with her disability friendly squirrel who climbed her leg to get the peanut so she didn’t have to bend over and hurt her back. 
Here we wait to see if it can figure out to climb.
Ahhhh, it found it!
Yes, it turns out with winter coming, the squirrels had overcome the earlier shyness from weeks ago and were up, DETERMINED to have peanuts!
Even Linda who was sitting and taking pictures had squirrels sneaking up on her around the tree to investigate the ‘bag of goodies’ on her lap.
Once it found the ‘Mother Lode of Peanuts’ it was rewarded with a peanut and stayed close by while eating it (Good rule that: once you know the source of food, stay close by!).
Here I am with a squirrel who seemed to recognize me in my lap, it just keep looking at me, with a peanut in the mouth, so I got out another and gave it.
But it still sat there with two peanuts in the mouth. So I pet it, just a little, because, hey, it already has the peanuts, and was hanging around. A very pleasurable break.
Then back to the room and to finish the last of the postcards. I hope many people get postcards this week. I tried to find anyone we had forgotten or overlooked for a while. That was my weekend, how about yours?
We decided to visit the squirrels, or I did. And Cheryl and Linda came along. I could say it was to visit the new mothers of squirrel litters, with Mother’s Day the next day in North America, or because the sun finally showed itself. But the truth is, I had not been out all week, and all apartment and no world make Beth a little stir crazy!
Actually that face was made while we were waiting for squirrels as there were a lot of loose dogs (terriers) which had driven the squirrels into the trees. If anyone uses that (what I call my ‘Dr. Suess’ face for reasons unknown) as a screensaver, I will do bad things to you. Eventually the squirrels did arrive, but they were either, a) early pups/kits (what is the right word) and so very skittish or b) new mothers. This is a new mother, as you can see by the overgrown haunches and the splayed feet (not yet back to normal size).
The weather was pretty horrific, yes, the sun shined down but there was a light breeze and the flowers were out, I did not overheat, the perfect temp. Here is the start of the squirrel area: I have not cropped or touched the picture in any way, so you can see the kind of rigor in going out in all weather this journalist has.
At first it seemed like everyone else was getting squirrels to come to them. Linda had a black squirrel who while skittish did have the nicest black perky ears.
Cheryl on the other hand, had a couple, a black and a grey which would come to her for peanuts.
This ended when finally the black had the peanut and the grey chased it up and down about 4 trees across the lawn and finally even AFTER dropping the peanut, the grey kept chasing the black squirrel. As Cheryl said dryly, “I think it is after something OTHER than peanuts.” Hmmm…
Meanwhile, Cheryl not only had a beauty, what I call an ‘arabian black’ squirrel (the very black ones that look like the stallions), but she had POLITE ONES which ate covering their hands. This squirrel was clearly an offspring of Fiona, Psycho’s elegant and graceful sister.
It even takes the peanut, not in the mouth like the rest but in two hands like the Japanese take gifts. I was sitting there meanwhile wondering, ‘When is it MY turn?’
Well, I did get Soot, which I called because the nose had a black ring which indicates that it was on peanut burial detail. Here you can see it even has its mouth open and tongue out (red).
I did NOT get the polite squirrels who gracefully take the peanut with both hands before delicately opening it. Soot was not only edgy but also a bit grabby, and would take the peanut or simply bat it out of my hand if it could and get it that way. Kind of like Linda actually, who I had to keep reminded as she cracked another, "The PEANUTS are for the SQUIRRELS!"
Soot also would climb up the leg using, yes, claws, right through the jean material (interesting little marks on the leg found later), this is where you are sort of happy that you have no real feeling down there.
As we can see, Soot is like the bear that climbed the mountain…to see what SHE could see, and get a peanut!
I did feed a kit/cub that was so young it kept trying to take a peanut with its mouth. Except, it was young so the mouth was so small it couldn’t grab any peanuts. I had to find a smaller peanut and then give it the small end, and it managed to grab it and then run off with it. Grow quick. Meanwhile, another mama squirrel I will call Rosy (not because she was Rosy but that was her colour and like Rosanne on TV, would knock down people need be for her kids). Rosy seemed to have no fear of the wheelchair at all and simply jumped or climbed all over it, ignoring me entirely (except as the peanut vending machine of course).
Here she has grabbed the wheel and is doing odd balancing tricks.
She finally came up to ME (I tend to have issues feeding peanuts to my wheelchair wheel)
and I gave her a peanut which she devoured (hey, got a lot of mouths to make that milk for!), after running off.
She soon returned and this time ascended the opposite side of the wheelchair. She had curiosity and was determined to get a peanut, but no fear. Going up the wheel she peeked over my legs like new and rather odd terrain.
She came into my lap, got her peanut and while I paused for a nice picture for the two of us, she was already determining, “How is the fastest way down and how do I take this to my kids?”
Priorities.
Still, it was not the WORST of days to go outside and sit with friends. As you can see, with me by this 150-200 year old tree, that I am feeding a black squirrel who eats nearby, then returns for another. We are chilling out together,
and not the worst way at all to spend a spring day.
Yesterday I woke up, I could see the sun shine and I said, as I was lifted out of bed, “Let’s go see the squirrels.” Which since Linda didn’t have an appointment for 1 hour and 45 minutes meant that was possible due to the NEW electric wheelchair (referred to DT: for that DAMN THING for the rest of this blog).
Since I had showered the day before it was get dressed, or be dressed and get shoes on and go, go go. But still that took up the 45 minutes, as Linda wanted me to drink stuff, and eat stuff and stuff had to be packed for safety. Well, our old elevator tends to leave a few inches to climb up, so arriving at the bottom floor was FOUR inches, so even in Tank Mode, I couldn’t climb it. I went up a floor and came down and tried again, got two inches to climb up this time (the elevator lotto) and we headed outside. Took me all of about 30 seconds to realize we forgot my lap robe (linda snagged one from the van) and I took out the now hugely oversized rain jacket for warmth. It was sunny, but there was also snow in the shade so a degree or two above freezing….and the wind was blowing.
But we got to the park in record time which also bruised a record number of my ribs, spine and muscles. See, in other cities, curb cuts go to the street level. In Victoria, just to show how special we are, we like to keep them two inches above street level, or higher! So with 25 of those to hit between me and the park I learned the difference between a manual and an electric chair. In a manual, you are low down, you can flip up casters and lean forward to jump the curb, you are in control, you are driving a titanium Ferrari. On an electric, you are the luggage tied to the top of the bus going up the mountain passes in Central America. The luggage which is bumped open halfway, or smashed from the forces. I learned that driving at HIGH SPEED toward a giant curb cut bump only makes my spine feel like someone smashed it, along with my torso. I learned that if I went REALLY slow….well, I didn’t learn that because I’ll be damned if I go really slow so I just learned about going normal speed (Ow!) and fast (OW!!!) and Very Fast (OH MY GOD OWWW!). As you can see, while it isn’t EXACTLY spring, there are little bits of flowers showing themselves here and there.
I made it to the park and realized that I am also several feet higher than I am in the other wheelchair, so it is harder to feed the squirrels and I worried and thought they would not think they would come up to my lap to get peanuts. I mean, do they know the smell of me, the smell of my peanut fingers or of the wheelchair? The first squirrel responded to rustling bag and I found did not have any problem crawling up the lap blanket (with my encouragement) to see me. 
I called this one scruffy as it had some claw marks which had removed fur right behind its head which gave it a scruffy look. I later realized I should have called it: Lazy Ass. But still it was encouraging to have a squirrel actually sit in my lap 
(since we only had 25 minutes once we got there) on my first trip out of the house and back to the park in a LONG time.
It turned out not to be that difficult at all to have squirrels climb up the wheelchair, even though it was brand new and quite high. Most squirrels who approached where willing to climb up to see me. Here is a different grey squirrel (you can see by the clean neck fur) who has climbed up and decided to eat the peanut on my knee (after such a climb, why not!).
Of course, squirrels are individuals (some with very odd neurotic habits!). So there is always the squirrel who has to make everything twice as difficult. Every OTHER squirrel simply climbed up the front using my legs and the blanket to get to my lap. But not for this black squirrel, who I named Parkour, after the sport where you use urban railings, rooftops or other surfaces to achieve your goal. 
Did it make his peanut any more satisfying, apparently for him as he went off chortling, “A route no squirrel has taken before!”
Here is a profile shot that Linda took for some reason, maybe to prove that sun shines here in Victoria, I am not sure. 
You can see in the shot how I drive the DT wheelchair which is by pushing the black joystick (almost invisible here) which is between my index and second finger. There is a delayed reaction, to make sure I have my hand in the right position and then a second later it starts up. Despite the delayed reaction I only lot control and started weaving around on the sidewalk four or five times. DT! The other irritation is that to change modes, from like, Outdoor to Tank Mode, you have to come to a complete stop. I am Elizabeth McClung, I AM Brownian Motion, I do not come to complete stops! This is why instead of doing ALL those curb cuts by stopping, changing modes, climbing curbs, stopping again and changing back to outdoor mode, I tried going faster. OW! Okay that didn’t work, what if we try this curb even FASTER! OWWW. DT!!!
Here Scruffy has returned and, despite the fact that my wheelchair is almost silent has decided it is just TOO MUCH BOTHER to actually move away to eat, but to eat not just next to my chair, but with his tail under it (A Beatrix Potter Tale comes to mind!). This is also the shot which makes me look the LEAST like I am super thin (just thin!).
This is why I think of him as Lazy Ass. Here you can see the close up of Scruffy, with the scars on his neck. You can also see that he has part of his nice long tail UNDER my foot plate. 
And since I came to BOND and love the squirrels, not clean them out of my tire treads, I patiently waited for Lazy Ass to finish, fed him/her another peanut and off Scruffy went!
As we were about to leave I was greeted/assaulted by son of Psycho. Psycho was known for his a) trying to steal Linda’s camera several times, b) trying to steal entire 1 pound or 2 pound bags of peanuts several times, including wresting them from em and c) his fearless attitude. Well, I rattle the bag as we have to go and about 50 yards away this black squirrel pops out of the ferns, sees me and starts doing that squirrel run towards me. Usually at 20 yards or so they stop and pop up their head to check around, then at 5 yards they slow down to give me a good sniff over. The black squirrel, at about 10 yards SPEEDS UP and then does a flying leap onto my blanket. And clambers the rest of the way up. There is no sniffing cautiously about here! I was rather shocked, as I had a brand new chair and according to the seating people the only one in Victoria (which is how they would catch me if I tried to give it away), and this squirrel does a flying LEAP onto me? Is my estrogen that high? Is mating season going that badly for him?
No, it is was the son of Psycho, I could tell he was about 9 months old and he quickly rooted about in my..er...lap. And then started to eat right there, like I was the peanutmobile. 
Sadly, we were late, and had to take off, so I hope to meet him again since that is one squirrel I am definitely going to remember. Even though we shared but two peanuts together, it was Paris…I mean the Park…in the Spring time, and I’ll be at Rick’s and he’ll walk in…wait, this is Casablanca!
I got out, I got slammed around in order to get home, and then it started snowing, slushing a bit in the afternoon. So not QUITE spring yet but there are hints and hopes. I ended up with a four hour nap due to my fun in the sun, ow! And couldn’t move my arms. I have yet to learn the ‘use less, not more’ – I am so used to using gross muscles, like my shoulder to write, that for this DT wheelchair, I need to ground my elbow, ground my wrist and just use the slightest movement forward, side to side or back, whether I feel it or not. Because using my whole arm and shoulder just ends with a) me out of control – don’t walk beside me on the sidewalk (a good safety tip!) and b) a really sore arm.
Have a great weekend and meet your own friends. One day I plan to work up to HUMANS. I hear they don’t like peanuts as much, but they have more interesting conversations.
Warning: Do you recognize this face? 
That’s right, Psycho came back and tried to steal Linda’s camera AGAIN (third attempt now!). And then when he wanted peanuts, he didn’t bother climbing up my wheelchair, no, far TOO MUCH effort for Psycho, he merely LEAPT right into my lap,
usually eating partially there and leaving all sorts of shell bits before heading off.
But I want to point out that my park is Disability friendly to all forms of impairments. First, Cheryl needed to practice HER powers as Squirrel Whisperer to tell the squirrels that 'hey, got a bad back, can’t be bending down for you, as that hurts me.'
Evidently the word got around 
and soon Cheryl had squirrels accommodating her impairment by climbing up her leg and sitting there to take and sometimes eat part of the peanut. Not just once but several times. This is actually a different time when the squirrel decided to hang around LITERALLY on Cheryl’s leg, and check the peanut for perfection. 
So obviously she has very good Squirrel Whispering Powers. And not only that, as she said, “This is the most intimate action I’ve had in a long time.” 
Shhhhhh, not so loud Cheryl, the Parks Service Canada frowns on interspecies intimate fraternization!
Cheryl is heading off for a bit and I wanted to make sure these pics were up for her to see before she left. I will be doing another blog tonight as well, about badminton, me talking to the potential mayor and then stuffing envelopes (wow, now I’m an official political volunteer…), seeing Raccoons last night, an Owl and other stuff. See how I am taking it easy, only two posts a day!
Tourism McClung - come to Victoria and test your Squirrel Whisperer powers!
I worry I left the best part of my on the Big Island.
And I scream. How can I hold on to something, squeeze something to help me take the pain when I can’t feel my hands? I live by watching what my limbs are doing, I have gross motor function, felt or not: a crane operator. But the spine, it burns literally, while my body is goosebumped in shock it burns hot as I scream, my voice husky from a lack of oxygen. I don’t know how long? As many breaths until my lungs can’t push out any more.
Yes and peacocks. The ones who aren’t thin are the ones who are bold. We found a pair of squirrels, both blacks (the smart ones) and one was getting peanuts every 30 seconds, running off and burying them. The other squirrel was digging up the recently buried peanut and eating it. Squirrel #1 hadn’t caught on yet by the time we left. I hope they are siblings.
Fearless, upon returning, would run across 200-300 yards before leaping at least four feet away and landing halfway or more up my leg. Now I know what a tree branch feels like (and isn’t peripheral neuropathy good as he was using claws). I could feel the whump of force through the wheelchair. But at the end of the day it turns out he is quite picky, 
Fearless the gourmet? Or just wanting the highest calorie content?
Luckily Cheryl didn’t mind. See, we have VERY disability friendly squirrels (the people, ehhh, not so much – as we had been just been to a pumpkin farm and found it hard to find space in the disabled parking full of race cars and family vans, without a single blue badge in sight).
