Everything was going so well this week. I even ran out on my own on laundry day to get more Smart Balance and stop at Sprouts for Litehouse salad blend. Except the Publix on the East-West and the Sprouts across the street didn't have either of those products. I did find the Smart Balance at the Smyrna Publix; we always stock up when they're on BOGO.
Then on Wednesday James had an appointment with his rhematologist. He spoke frankly this time about all the pain he has been in and asked if there was some way it could be relieved without using opioids. Dr. Salazar decided to put him on a short course (two weeks) of Prednisone to see if relieving the inflammation helps. Then we went to the Sprouts at Heritage Pointe and they had the Litehouse we needed, too.
On the way back from taking his blood sugar, James stumbled on his slippers—he tends to roll on his right foot and he stepped wrong—and fell. He didn't hit his head, but he pulled something, and the usual way he gets up, by scooting to the stairs and then standing, he couldn't do. So we had to call the nice firemen at Station 30 again. He had no bruises we could see, but he was awake during most of the night with pain from the muscles he strained.
Ironically, after all that, he felt better in the morning, but I did the shopping on my own on Thursday.
On Friday, we made a decision: James needed some type of shoe to wear around the house; the slippers are just too soft. I tried to get him a soft shoe at Walmart, but for once a marked size 12 didn't fit him. He also wanted to look into those "step in" Skechers they advertise. So Friday afternoon we went to the Kennesaw store. We did find a pair of the step-in shoes, but also got a different kind, too, very light, but with a very firm sole. (The step ins, alas, don't work for James; his ankle joints are too deteriorated for him to point his toe like you need to do to step in.)
The surprising thing was that I bought shoes. Voluntarily. I not only
bought shoes, but I bought women's shoes, which, except for the wedgies I
bought for Sabra's wedding, are the first women's shoes I've bought in
years; I've been buying boys' Reeboks, which have always been the same style as women's Reeboks
(and $20 cheaper) and wide enough for my feet. I
got two pairs of the same grey ombre shoes. I have not bought women's
shoes that fit properly the moment I put them on since my Hush Puppies.
The soles on my Reeboks were worn down anyway.
Sigh...except, getting used to the shoes, James fell walking into the kitchen. Mostly what was hurt was his pride, and he was able to scrunch to the door.
Saturday night, however, was fabulous. On Saturday, October 28, Neil Butler, the son of our good friends Ron and Lin, and his girlfriend Emilee Cox, joined hands in matrimony at a ceremony at Ivy Hall (formerly an old cotton mill which was in use until 1975). We had a blast. The music was old, from 40s swing all the way to modern rock (James and I even sorta danced; I got up and moved and we held hands and he rocked back and forth in the power chair), we stuffed ourselves on delicious food, and the company was outstanding: we were seated with Daniel and Clair Kiernan, Bill Ritch and Caran Wilbanks, Charles Rutledge, and Marilyn Teague. The latter, especially, we hadn't seen in ages, since she had some medical problems and had to have part of a leg amputated. We were happy to see her walking very well with a walker and prosthetic leg!
The only fly in the ointment was that the handicapped access for Ivy Hall was terrible. The venue is two levels, and the big open deck and the cocktail area (and the only bathrooms!) are on one level and the ballroom on the top level. The only way to get between these levels is a 45-degree angle road and a narrow "ramp." James got down there with the power chair set on "1" and moving very slow. When the ceremony and the appetizer course ended, we had to go back up to the top level via that steep road. James had power and made it up the hill with me spotting behind him, bent double in the chair. Poor Marilyn had to have both Charles and Robbie Hilliard help her up the hill. We were still having fun at nine o'clock, but had to leave early because James needed to urinate (the doctor said he should never "hold it") and there was no way he was going up and down that hill in the dark!
I can't believe this gorgeous venue can't afford to install a little lift (I've seen ones that look like a capsule and work like the lift on the Jupiter 2) for handicapped or temporarily incapacitated people in a corner somewhere. Either that or they need to rent a handicapped Porta Potty every time they have an event.
Labels: food, friends, health, injuries, shopping, sickness, weddings
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