Gratitude, Forrest Gump, and One Closet Door

Today marked the end of my third week at UNO, and I've loved every minute of it, but today was especially wonderful.  The clear blue sky, the soft breeze gently warmed by a benevolent sun, the beauty of the campus itself, and the vitality of all the optimistic young people around me were enough to inspire me to profound gratitude. It was just one of those perfect days.




  

I walked back to my room after my last (and favorite) class anticipating the long drive home and my husband's welcoming arms while the theme music to "Forrest Gump" was being subliminally infused into my brain from my mp3 player.  It, along with the beauty of the day, filled me with such emotion that I found myself fighting back the tears.  It's a good thing I was wearing sunglasses.  Otherwise, the young people around me might have seen the old girl losing it.

I could see Forrest sitting alone at the bus stop just after little Forrest had left on the school bus.  I could see him, in his simple way, contemplating how strange, convoluted, and, ultimately, wonderful life can be.  Right on, Forrest!  I'm with you, buddy. Who'd have thought my life, so nearly lost, would or could have taken this turn?  I am still in awe of the circumstances that landed me here.

To top it all off,  I found, upon entering  my room, that maintenance had finally installed one of the mirrored sliding doors that had been missing from my closet since the day I moved in.  On my desk was a note of apology for installing only one door and a promise to try to find another.  One door!  One mirrored sliding door!  I love it.  It's simply the way life is: imperfect, but surprising - sometimes pleasantly.  I spent a few minutes dancing in front of that mirrored door.  Life is meant to be celebrated.


Unfortunately, the broken toilet seat hadn't been repaired, but that's okay.  Today I got a closet door.  Today I got.....today.  Another day.  And it was a beauty.  Lord, O Lord, I am so grateful!

*Sniff, dry eyes, go home.*

College Life: So Far, So Good

Whew!  What a day!
Okay, so I was rather hyper.  I woke up at 5 a.m. yesterday, drank three cups of coffee, flat-ironed my crazy hair, spent almost an hour applying makeup, threw the last minute things in the last bag, finished loading the truck, kissed my husband goodbye about 1,000 times, dried a few tears (mindful not to smudge my carefully applied makeup that later melted in the heat) and was on the road by 8:20 a.m.  Then I drove down to Covington (45miles) to pick up my sister, and off we went across the Lake Ponchartrain Causeway to the "big city" (another 35 miles). Yes, I'm still a country girl...always will be.  The back end of my husband's truck was totally loaded down with stuff, but it all fit surprisingly well in my room.  More on that later.  The woman at the causeway toll booth looked at my load and asked if it was all tied down.  She gave me a rather dubious glance when I assured her all of it was pretty heavy and I didn't think even the causeway cross-winds could blow it out.  She let me go, and, fortunately, I didn't lose anything.

The "Before" look.  All boxes, no organization.

Arrival at UNO was fun. 
My room is in the south hall.  Room check-in was in the north hall.  My truck was full of stuff anyone could steal (if they were strong enough or had friends to help).  My poor little sister pulled the unfortunate duty of guarding the truck in the heat while I signed in.  She got free ice cream as a reward, so it wasn't all bad. And I have to give a big shout out to UNO for being very organized.  Getting thru the sign-in process was a breeze and when it was time to unload the truck, my sister and I didn't have to lift a finger.  A swarm of pink-shirted young men and women descended upon us as soon as I parked in the south hall parking lot.  They came armed with a big rolling cart and absolutely delightful personalities.   I thoroughly enjoyed interacting with them.  If their attitude is a harbinger of things to come, I think I'm going to love it here.

Cozy and colorful to offset all that beige.

Everyone was as nice as could be.
It wasn't just the "pink shirts" who were nice.  My roommates, well the 2 out of 3 that I've met, seem super sweet.  You know that guy named Lazlo in the movie "Real Genius" who lives below the school and enters his hideout through a closet in Val Kilmer's room?  That's my third roommate.  I'm told by one of my other roommates that she's seen her, but as yet I've not seen her.  Her door is always closed and the light is off.  I'm wondering if she has a secret entrance in her closet to an underground hideout.

I digress.

The young lady at the front desk who helped me get my internet connection set up was great, too.  Other students I met in the hall were wonderful.  Even the parents I met were a pleasure.  The universal comment I heard from all the parents was, "This place is really nice.  Much nicer than I expected."

My workspace.  May it be productive!

And that about sums it up...
This place really is nicer than I expected.  I hope I still feel that way  once the novelty wears off.  This coming week is "Welcome Week" and there is a host of planned activities I can take part in if I so choose.  Tonight is a "cookout" in the dormitory courtyard.  Free food!  Yes, I think I'll make it to that one.  In the meantime, I'm off to try to get my books and parking decal, find all my classrooms, and just get a good sense of the place.  Exploration day!

My sweetheart little sister, Eileen.

P.S.  The pictures illustrate the conversion of my drab little room (beige walls, door, floor, blinds) to a colorful, cozy little nest.  I couldn't have done it without my little sister, Eileen.  She got all misty-eyed with happiness for me and for having the opportunity to share this experience with me.  My family is the best!

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go....

I'm leaving in a Chevy truck...

I know it doesn't sound as poetic as "leaving on a jet plane," and unlike the late, great John Denver, who originally penned those lines, I know (God willing) when I'll be back again.  But, babe I still hate to go.  I move into my room at UNO tomorrow, and as excited as I am about this new adventure, I'm already missing my hubby.  I've cooked some of his favorite meals and stored them in the freezer.  He won't starve.....at least for the first week.  After that, once the studying sets in, well...he just may have to learn how to cook. 

"Okay, Mom.   Tomorrow's the big day.  I'm heading off to college."

My parents spent most of the day with us.  Mom looked at the huge pile of stuff I planned to take with me and asked if there was anything I wasn't taking.   Ha Ha!  But she laughed when I said the words above.  She recognized the irony.  Those words were 35 years in coming.  And, characteristic of the wonderful mother she's always been, she admonished me to be careful.  "I know you're gonna do fine.  I just worry about you being in the city.  It's such a terrible place."  Oddly, that was what she said 35 years ago, and I, the naive little country girl, was terror-stricken.  Those words definitely contributed to my decision not to pursue my degree straight out of high school.

"Stop hyperventilating!"

Also my mother's words.  Good advice.  I'm excited.  I'm a little apprehensive.  I'm definitely over-packing.  I'm making lists of everything as I pack it.  I'm trying to be organized.  List-making is keeping me focused and the packing is keeping my head busy.   Hubby Dearest just shakes his head. 

"Are you nervous?" 
"I wasn't....until you asked! 

There goes something else into the pile. 

Really, is there anything I'm not taking?   Yes.  It's him.

My Husband is Dating a College Girl!

It's official!  I'm a college girl.
I've got my student ID to prove it.  It's not a great picture (my hair looks green!), but ID photos never are.  It didn't help that we took the campus tour in the heat and humidity before our pictures were taken.  It looks like my green hair is trying to suffocate me! I got my ID at the transfer student orientation I attended at UNO this week.  It was great!  I was a little self-conscious about being the oldest student there, but everyone was very welcoming.  I met several new people and learned some valuable things about the school and the various organizations I could join.   I don't think the sororities are for me, but I was very impressed with the service coalition.  Student government sounded interesting, too.  I also met with advisors from the Business and Interdisciplinary Studies (IDS) departments.  I really liked Gerard in IDS.  He's the one who told me my husband can now brag about dating a college girl.  My husband got a kick out of that.  It was a perk he hadn't considered.

One very important thing I learned from the campus tour
was how tiring all that walking and stair climbing can be.  I've decided to get to the gym as often as I can before I move to UNO so I can build up my stamina and rev up my metabolism.  Of course, I can't work out very hard, but every little bit helps.  I'm happy to report that UNO has a great fitness center with all the amenities free to students.  I hope to make that one of my favorite campus haunts.

Anticipation is killing me!
Move in day is four weeks from today and classes start on August 22nd.  I can't wait!  I still haven't received my housing assignment, but I've gotten two emails promising the assignments will go out soon.  I was allowed to tour the dorm, so I have an idea how my cell, er....room, will look.  It's tiny, but it's private.  There are four bedrooms, two baths, and a common room in each quad.  I'll have to share a bath, but only with one other person.  I've been collecting things to take with me when I move in.  I don't know how I'll get it all in there!  Should be interesting.   I think a crash course in minimalist living is in my future.

A Girl Reconstructed: Me 2.0: The Men in My Life: A Group Hug

A Girl Reconstructed: Me 2.0: The Men in My Life: A Group Hug

The Men in My Life: A Group Hug

It's easy to forget, sometimes, just how blessed we are.  
I am grateful everyday for the love and support of my family, but times like these remind me just how extraordinary they all are.  Take my husband, for example.

My Sweetheart and Me, May 2010

We live so far out in the country, we have to pipe in the sunshine.
Not really.  We get plenty of sunshine, but TV and high-speed internet are only available by satellite.  Cell phone access is sketchy at best and conveniently located universities are non-existent.  Gas is too expensive to commute 200 miles everyday.  So, part of the decision-making process for me when choosing a school involved what to do with my husband.  Do we try to find housing near the school where we can live together?  Maybe we could live out of our travel trailer in a nearby campground?  Or should I live on campus and leave my husband at home?  I left the decision up to him.  He chose to stay at home where he would be more comfortable.  I'll stay in the city during the week and go home on weekends. 

My husband is willing to make that big, lonely sacrifice because he understands how important it is to our financial security for me to further my education.  He also understands how important it is to me individually to achieve this goal.  In fact, he's my greatest supporter.   He's taken an active interest in the enrollment process, discussing my course choices, housing options, meal plans, whether I should take my bicycle...everything.  It's just so sweet and cute when he says things like, "I can see you graduating as the valedictorian of your class."   "Not likely," I tell him.  But I love hearing him say it.  His faith in me bolsters my courage.

Then there are our three fine sons...

Who Gave Them Permission to Grow Up???

They think it is too cool that Mom is going to college.  The youngest will begin his final year at LSU this fall.  I called him for advice on dorm living.   "Be careful, Mom,"  he said.  "If your roommates are underage, they'll try to get you to buy beer for them."  Uh.....no.  Not happening.  I'm not anti-alcohol, but I'm definitely anti-contributing-to-the-delinquency-of-a-minor.  I had to laugh.

The parent has become the child.
I learned today that they've been discussing (behind my back) how to help with my expenses.  The oldest told me not to worry, "We'll get it all taken care of."  I've tried to tell them they don't have to help me, but they're not listening.  In fact, they've informed me that I can no longer dictate how they spend their money.  The nerve!  How dare they speak to me that way???     

It seems the love I've invested in my menfolk is paying dividends. 
"Just consider it pay back," said my youngest.  Would someone please pass me a Kleenex? 

Higher Level Reconstruction

Okay,  I've been remodeling myself,
ever so slowly, since October 2001.    To continue the construction metaphor, I can say that, so far, I've kept the strong foundation my wonderful parents laid for me.  I've given my exterior a makeover.  Now,  I'm working on my interior.  Like any major remodeling job, a lot of things have to be torn out before the improvements can be installed.  Out with the negative thinking!  Out with the poor food choices!  Out with the self-destructive behavior!  In with the positive thoughts, energy, and actions that will get the result I'm looking for.  What result would that be?

I want to be salable!
Do I need to mention the economy sucks?  I know a perfectly charming, extremely bright, recent cum laude college graduate who was recognized for her exceptional academic record by being invited by the White House to attend one of the many inaugural parties after the last presidential election.  Now, she's working part-time as a bank teller, and she struggled to get that job. 

I didn't earn a 4-year degree.  I went to paramedic school, took a few college courses, and managed to parlay that into an acceptable career.  I wasn't on track to be rich, but I was solidly in the middle-income bracket.  I'm pretty bright, too, (though I haven't been invited to the White House....yet) and I have more than 20 years of work experience, much of it managerial.  I never had a problem getting a job before my medical problems became insurmountable.  Now, nobody wants me.  I've tried.  Why hire an older, less educated person who's been out of the game for 5 years when you can get a young, healthy, college grad at entry level pay?   I think, since I've lost so much weight, I might be healthy enough to go back to work.  I just can't sell myself to an employer.  What can I do about that?


I've arrived at a few conclusions:

1. I'm really tired of pinching every penny, trying to make ends meet on a disability pension, knowing things are only going to get worse.  I'm tired of looking at a future that's going no where.
2. I want to start my own business, one that uses my mind more and my body less.   I never want to depend on the whims of an employer again.
3. Earning a degree will give me the knowledge and credentials I need to credible and competitive.
4. I WANT my degree.  I've always wanted it.  It's important to my self-image.  I feel incomplete without it.  I feel "unsalable" without it.  Now it's time to get it!

I know having a degree does not make one smarter or better than anyone else.  It does not guarantee financial success or personal happiness.   It's a tool, a means to an end.  However, for me, it's also Mt. Everest.  I'll never feel like I've reached my fullest potential until I've climbed that mountain.  Or, returning to my construction metaphor, it's what I need to do to complete my interior remodeling work. 

I simply have to do it.  

And so I shall.
I'm enrolled at the University of New Orleans.  My classes will begin in August.   Can you see  this 52-year-old mother and grandmother living on campus, hanging out with the youngsters, doing the college thing?  I think it's hilarious, amazing, and incredible.  I hope it will be fun.

Mostly, I hope my heart and my husband will hang in there long enough for me to finish.   My husband understands why this is important to me individually and to us financially.  He's always been my best friend and greatest supporter, but I'm asking a lot of him this time.   My heart, on the other hand, has not been so cooperative or supportive.  I'm asking a lot of it, too.  May God grant me, my husband, and my heart, the strength and courage to do this.

You've been kind enough to read this far,
perhaps you'll stick with me as I chronicle the remainder of my reconstruction project.  From now on, I'll be writing about my back-to-school experiences.  I'll never know what living on campus as a young adult is like.  I missed out on that one.   However, the older-woman-on-campus experience promises to be intriguing.   How will the young people respond to me?  How will I respond to them?    Will I be able to see from the back of the classroom while wearing my reading glasses?  Can I wear my contacts and reading glasses at the same time?  Should I invest in bifocals?  Can I find a good hairdresser on campus to cover my grays?  How will I manage to complete all my reading assignments without falling asleep over my books?   How much can I cram into my room?  How much can I cram into my little refrigerator?   Who's going to help me carry that fridge on moving days?  Can I sneak in a hot plate to cook on?  Will I have to worry about my roommates stealing my nitroglycerine tablets?   So many questions, so much time...

The Skinny on Getting Skinny

November 2007

Not a happy camper!
No, I won't tell you how much I weighed when this picture was taken.  It's obvious that my weight was totally out of control and it was killing me.  My poor, sad, defective heart simply could not sustain me at this weight.  How did I get this way?  I could blame severe hypothyroidism and fibromyalgia.  I have those problems, too, and they definitely were contributing factors.  But, to be totally honest (a virtue I had to embrace in order to lose weight), it was mostly my own fault.  I was never a glutton, but I made terrible food choices.  And as my heart problems worsened, I became increasingly sedentary.  The more weight I gained, the worse I felt, the more depressed I became, and the more I sought comfort in food.  It was a vicious cycle.  How did I break out of it?


Medicare saved my life...

November 2010

and a lot of money, too!
Some people may think it's wrong for Medicare to pay for gastric bypass surgery, as it did for me.  But it really was and continues to be cost-effective.  Remember, I was hospitalized 8 times in 2006.  My husband's group insurance company paid more for each individual hospitalization than Medicare paid for my surgery.  I've lost almost 200 pounds and I've only been hospitalized once since my surgery, 19 months ago.  In addition, I no longer need to take several of the prescription medications I was taking before weight loss surgery, resulting in more cost savings.

A Much Happier Camper!
So, I had the surgery, and I'm so glad I did.  I feel better about myself and my future.  Was it cheating?  Some people think so, but I don't.  Weight loss surgery is simply a tool.  It does not guarantee long-term, permanent weight loss.  You may be able to eat only a little a time, but a few M & M's eaten all day long will eventually add up.  You have to wrap your head around changing your inner self, not your outward appearance.  Remember, I said I was never a glutton, but I made terrible food choices?   I had to relearn how to eat and I had to make a commitment to making healthy choices FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.  Many people, with or without having weight loss surgery, lose a lot of weight only to regain it one or two or five years down the road.  As with alcoholism or drug addiction, maintaining weight loss, like sobriety, is a one day at a time business.  Everyday, I strive to keep the weight off.   Because of my heart, I'm still not able to be as physically active as I would like, but I try to keep moving with things like gardening.    I've learned to use less fattening ingredients and techniques when I cook.  Also, I think about every bite I put in my mouth and usually make the right choice.  However, chocolate will always be an essential female hormone, at least for me, and a Twix now and then is irresistible.  Ah well, we all have our Achilles heels, don't we?

Cherry Tomatoes From My Garden

 The Big Bonus:
I'm beginning to feel like I might be able to go back to work.  I don't enjoy riding the entitlement bus.  It's a drain on society and there's no future and very little security in it.   I want to get back in the game, coach!  I just have a little more work to do.



 Next:  Higher Level Reconstruction

P.S.  Want to "weigh in" on this discussion?  Please add a comment below by clicking on the little pencil below.

Call me Edie....

Hey, it worked for Herman Melville,
and I have to start somewhere.  Why am I blogging?  Mostly for myself. To put it simply, I was waiting to die.  Now I'm dying to live. So much has changed and continues to change in my life, and blogging seems like a great way to put it all into perspective.    And maybe, just maybe, my story will inspire someone. 

I can mark the day my life changed forever:  
October 26, 2001.  That day I learned I had a congenital defect in my left main coronary artery.  It was a potential killer.  Three days later my chest was carved open, my ribcage sawed apart, and two bypass grafts were created around the defect.   I woke up in ICU with 7 tubes coming out of various natural and man-made body orifices, a ventilator controlling my breathing, and several other machines beeping, buzzing, humming, and chirping as each played its part in keeping me alive.  Years later, I still shudder when I think of it.  Having open heart surgery is, to me, as close to being treated like a side a beef as a person can get.  I found it dehumanizing.   

Okay, that was 9 years, 7 months, and 18 days ago - why is it important now?  
Because my old life was destroyed that day and I've been under reconstruction ever since.  Because the progress has been slow and almost imperceptible until now.  And because I see myself differently now, like a block of marble that has been slowly and painstakingly chipped at until, at last, it looks more like a human than a lump of stone.   The sculpture is not complete, but there's enough form visible to create a little excitement. 

But before we get to the good part, we have to get past the bad part.
Heart surgery didn't fix me.  I continued to have big problems and by 2006, a year in which I was hospitalized 8 times in as many months, I couldn't work anymore.  Hello Social Security disability!  I'm glad it was there for me, but if you think it's a free and happy ride on the entitlement bus, think again.  You DON'T get enough money to make ends meet, but you DO get just enough to make you ineligible for any other assistance. 

Did you know that Social Security requires you to be disabled at least 2 years before you can receive Medicare benefits?   Yep, it's true. Fortunately, my husband had me covered on his insurance plan for those 2+ years.  Unfortunately, he was injured on the job and ended up disabled, too.  Goodbye group insurance, hello Medicare!  It was a bad news/good news thing.   Though his insurance was much better in most respects, it wouldn't pay for the surgical procedure that would ultimately save my life.  Medicare would. Why?  Because someone, somewhere in our overblown, unwieldy, dysfunctional government understood that paying for the surgery was cheaper than paying for the medical treatment I would need for years to come without it.  I know, I know.  It's hard to believe, given what we hear in the news everyday, that our government ever gets anything right.  But, as a former co-worker of mine used to say, "even a blind squirrel finds a nut now and then."

Next:   The Skinny on Getting Skinny