"Making Change"

            Over the last few months, several older friends unexpectedly fell into life changes due to medical issues. Nothing life threatening, but still a diagnosis that meant change must come sooner, rather than later, into their routines.

            One of the main changes dealt with whether or not they could continue to work. A necessary knee or hip replacement turned into hours of physical therapy after the surgery. For a couple of friends, the promised “cure” from the procedure didn’t result in anything more than a little less pain. Their range of motion remained less. Plus, no one talked about the fact that after a certain age one’s overall stamina and energy don’t return to the same pre-surgery level. The promise that things would be “as good as new” simply didn’t hold up. For these friends, a loss of income coupled with extraordinarily high medical bills meant they now ride on a roller coaster of anxiety.

            For me, I started counting my blessings daily. During the spring semester last year, the plague (aka allergies) knocked me down for the count. By the long, lazy days of summer, I resolved to hedge myself against another rough spring by joining my son on his lifestyle change. I dropped flour from my diet. No bread. No cereal. No cookies. No cakes. No pastas. No battered or gravy laden meats. In the process of avoiding flour, I pulled away from most processed and preserved foods. This dramatic diet change resulted in more energy. I worked more consecutive days this fall and winter than I have at any other time in the past. Was this change easy? No. Was this change necessary? Definitely.

            As I viewed friends grappling with health issues that led to their ability to work, I began wondering what would happen if I could no longer work at my post-retirement job.  What could I do to generate income if I couldn’t jump into a car and head out? I recently sat back and reflected on the things I love to do—my writing and photography topped the list. In what way could I combine these two pleasures into generating a little income that would shift me away from a total dependence upon my current occupation? My son, always a creative soul, suggested a few days ago that I could use my photography, combined with my love of words and phrases, to generated unique t-shirt designs that I could sell online.

            Today, I began another change in my life! I opened an online store called Ms. Liz Designs. (https://teespring.com/stores/ms-liz-designs)

            With my blog, I hope to share the tales of my adventures as I discover the ins-n-outs stepping out of my comfort zone and into new possibilities.

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

              

             

"No News . . . "

            I fear turning on news broadcasts! Every day another administrative atrocity bombards my sense of morality. I can’t stomach seeing or hearing others defend the amoral monster who resides within the White House. I no longer follow Trump’s twitter tantrums because he demonizes all and praises only himself. His repugnancy demands rejection by all honorable souls.

            POOF!

            He is nothing.

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Your Silence”

I have no excuse for hurting you

Saying

“I didn’t understand”

doesn’t erase your pain

When you stripped bare

our differences,

I built a defensive wall

to shelter our friendship

to protect us from the World’s invasive

discord and discontent

I begged for less

Your silence honors me

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"My Week At-A-Glance:

         My weeks during the school year fill up with so many substitute teaching jobs that most people teasingly remind me, “You know. You’re retired.” Up until this year, I’ve laughed and chimed back that I need work to keep me out of trouble.

The real reason is, of course, financial. As a family, we took on debt to help our son start his own business. Our strategy to shift major purchases onto our shoulders as a family gave him breathing room as he mastered his skills and pulled in clients. We knew from my husband’s experience as a freelance artist that it can take four or five years to establish a business to profitability. When we made the move ourselves, I had a full-time job in education with a steady paycheck. Our son, single, didn’t have a second income to support him as he studied, purchased equipment, and sought clientele. As a family, we’ve allocated part of our income (my substitute work) into paying off business expenses at a faster rate than our son could do on his own.

         This upcoming school year should bring us to our financial goal of clearing almost all of the debt incurred from this investment. I wonder if that means, come the 2019-2020 school year, I’ll do a second retirement—this time from substitute teaching. My calendar will sit blank month after month, with no commitments except for whatever my heart desires. I could write all day, every day!

         But I know my nature. Today, I look at my calendar for next month—empty right now, and think, “What will I do to fill these days?” A little flutter of panic hits me when I consider endless days left open and blank. I suspect that I may dip my toe into substitute teaching for many more years. I could shift to working like my dad did with a few days each month to pay for something special for Christmas or birthdays.

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Guinness"

         I rule the world when it comes to high cholesterol. Year after year, my total pushes to 300 or nudges above a tad. When this first happened, my doctors slapped me onto a statin. I danced along happily for several years. The initial body aches and pains I experience I attributed to adding weights to my cardio workout. The crippling hobble I developed came from the higher heels I wore to a new job. When I felt like a steamroller had pressed me into the pavement, I mentioned it to my sister because the pain pulsed from the tips of my fingers down to my toes.

         “That’s your statin!” she cried. “Stop taking it now. Call your doctor on Monday.”

       I followed her advice and began, with my doctor, the rollercoaster ride of experimenting with various medications to control my cholesterol. Inevitably, we went through everything on the market with side effects punching me down immediately or sneakily creeping up to surprise me months down the line.

     After a while, we agreed to embrace my high cholesterol levels until something else came along. I tried adding red wine (specifically the dry Italian ones) to my diet, but found my stomach hated even a single nightly glass. I bumped up my oat intake and ate avocados daily. I burned out on the diet, and it barely made a ripple in any of my levels.

      About six months ago, I read an article about the benefits of adding one bottle of Guinness to your evening meal. It contains “antioxidant compounds that slow down the deposits of cholesterol on artery walls which reduces the risk of blood clots and ultimately heart attacks.” I decided immediately that this was a delightfully easy experiment for me! I don’t drink. Beer tastes like piss to me. But Guinness? There’s nothing like sipping a pint in an Irish pub that pulses with music and good cheer. I knew this challenge, a pint a night, could be successfully slipped into my daily routine.

         Yesterday, I sat across from my doctor’s PA as she read off the brightly red flagged numbers. She puzzled that my HDL levels were extremely high—higher than they’ve ever been, and my triglycerides had dipped down low enough for me to add Fish Oil to my diet to possibly nudge the numbers even lower. My overall “score” hadn’t changed, and she wondered about the cause of the shifts she saw.

         “That’s the Guinness,” I exclaimed.

         “Guinness?”

         “I read a study about its benefits and added it to my evening meal back in January.”

         She turned back to the computer screen, musing, “I read the same study. Good to know that it’s an option I can discuss with other patients.”

         Granted, the red warning boxes on my test results flag every medical professional I’ve ever talked to. I’m in perfect health EXCEPT FOR . . . those little squares. To see some kind of difference after a few months gives us hope that the trend may continue in a downward direction.

         In the meantime, anyone want a pint?

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman