August 30, 2006
Whoo boy, did I get a dirty look this morning from someone in the waiting room at the rehab place when I let Gary struggle to get the door open. She didn’t seem at all mollified when I explained that Gary was practicing and that if he had wanted my help, he would have asked for it. Oh, well.
Gary did the same exercises as before plus a couple new ones, namely, reversing one of the cable exercises by pulling up and out, and walking his fingers up the side of a doorway to develop his range of motion. On one of the old exercises, rows, he was able to increase the weight by two plates! (Not because he is that much stronger, he says, but because his shoulders aren’t bothering him.) Plus, no one had to hang on to his shoulders as he did the rowing exercise, indicating that he had better stability.
He talked to the therapist about some information he is supposed to get from his doctor for the university, information about what his limitations are for his job and what accommodations need to be made. He has no limitations regarding his duties, as far as any of us see, but in talking about his office situation, the therapist recommended he move down to the second floor of the math building, if possible (that is the lowest floor on which there are offices, at least for math people, I believe; the second floor is accessible by a ramp). The concern is that if the elevator would go out – as it occasionally has – he would be unable to get to his third-floor office, or from it if already in it, without someone bumping him up or down the stairs (and I’m afraid that someone isn’t going to be me! It would have to be someone much stronger.). And in case of fire, he shouldn’t use the elevator, so again, this would not be a good situation to be in. Fortunately, later in the day, Phil Zenor, whose office is on the second floor, reiterated his offer to change offices with Gary, and Gary took him up on it.
The garage people, who'd come about 8am, were still hard at work on the breezeway when I returned home after dropping Gary off at the office. Minutes after I arrived, Janet Rogers came, and soon after that Donna Bennett also came, and these gracious people helped me start in on the project of sorting the clothes that had been put into plastic bags (the vast majority of these clothes came, I believe, from a portable wardrobe that had been in the study before the new floor was put in there). I managed to throw away a bunch of old shoes and a couple bags of old clothes, and to collect a smaller bag of clothes that hopefully are in good enough condition for Goodwill. There is probably some more of the clothes I could throw/give away, but I haven’t made myself do it yet; I’ll have Gary look at what’s left and see if he can persuade me to do so.
Janet figures the beastie has departed because none of the sunflower seeds outside the trap were disturbed. She got the window to the dining room closed (I was unable to do so!) so that the thing doesn’t invite itself back in.
I left for a massage, leaving Janet and Donna to tidy up (oh, the guilt ;-)). It was great to once again get my massage from my long-time massage therapist. Thanks, Connie, you are good for my body and my soul, though as you probably would guess, I am wiped from the massage! (I told Gary you said to tell him that I was the best wife in the world ;-). Actually, that brought tears to his eyes and he said I was, and thanked me. At bedtime, as I got his pants off him, he patted me and said, “You’re the best wife in the world, but you’re nobody’s missus.” (I hate being called “Mrs.” because it makes me feel like an appendage, so whenever anybody uses that title with me, I correct them and sometimes add, “I’m nobody’s missus.”) I asked him what had brought that to his mind, and he shrugged and said it was an interesting juxtaposition.)
After the massage I picked Gary up from a math meeting (since he was sitting right up front, I couldn’t be too surreptitious about this!). When we got home I found Janet and Donna had finished clearing off shelves in one of the closets in the small bedroom and had even put some stacking racks in there so as to make it more usable for clothes storage. Blackjack seems to have survived the sorting ordeal – earlier in the afternoon I had seen him run on his belly into that bedroom to hide under the bed (he didn’t go outside because the garage people were out there, and at the time he scrambled into the bedroom Janet and Donna were in the front part of the house so he probably thought he’d be “safe”).
Oh, and Janet, remember how you said the back on the ergonomic “Balance Ball Chair” didn’t look quite right? When I looked at the one owned by one of the massage therapists I realized I had put the back on backwards (hey, I was a set-theoretic topologist, not a geometric topologist ;-)).
After Norma told me in an email what yesterday’s gift was, I felt like smacking my head, having had a vague feeling as I was writing yesterday’s blog that I should know what the gift was. Norma explains: “The last gift that you opened is a scrimshaw (which is usually done on ivory or a whale's tooth) on a musk-ox horn. (A musk ox looks a little like a cross between a buffalo and a cow and apparently it is native to Alaska.)”
Tonight Gary viewed some of the Flightseeing images that Phyllis and Donne sent; he said it was quite impressive!
All for today.
Whoo boy, did I get a dirty look this morning from someone in the waiting room at the rehab place when I let Gary struggle to get the door open. She didn’t seem at all mollified when I explained that Gary was practicing and that if he had wanted my help, he would have asked for it. Oh, well.
Gary did the same exercises as before plus a couple new ones, namely, reversing one of the cable exercises by pulling up and out, and walking his fingers up the side of a doorway to develop his range of motion. On one of the old exercises, rows, he was able to increase the weight by two plates! (Not because he is that much stronger, he says, but because his shoulders aren’t bothering him.) Plus, no one had to hang on to his shoulders as he did the rowing exercise, indicating that he had better stability.
He talked to the therapist about some information he is supposed to get from his doctor for the university, information about what his limitations are for his job and what accommodations need to be made. He has no limitations regarding his duties, as far as any of us see, but in talking about his office situation, the therapist recommended he move down to the second floor of the math building, if possible (that is the lowest floor on which there are offices, at least for math people, I believe; the second floor is accessible by a ramp). The concern is that if the elevator would go out – as it occasionally has – he would be unable to get to his third-floor office, or from it if already in it, without someone bumping him up or down the stairs (and I’m afraid that someone isn’t going to be me! It would have to be someone much stronger.). And in case of fire, he shouldn’t use the elevator, so again, this would not be a good situation to be in. Fortunately, later in the day, Phil Zenor, whose office is on the second floor, reiterated his offer to change offices with Gary, and Gary took him up on it.
The garage people, who'd come about 8am, were still hard at work on the breezeway when I returned home after dropping Gary off at the office. Minutes after I arrived, Janet Rogers came, and soon after that Donna Bennett also came, and these gracious people helped me start in on the project of sorting the clothes that had been put into plastic bags (the vast majority of these clothes came, I believe, from a portable wardrobe that had been in the study before the new floor was put in there). I managed to throw away a bunch of old shoes and a couple bags of old clothes, and to collect a smaller bag of clothes that hopefully are in good enough condition for Goodwill. There is probably some more of the clothes I could throw/give away, but I haven’t made myself do it yet; I’ll have Gary look at what’s left and see if he can persuade me to do so.
Janet figures the beastie has departed because none of the sunflower seeds outside the trap were disturbed. She got the window to the dining room closed (I was unable to do so!) so that the thing doesn’t invite itself back in.
I left for a massage, leaving Janet and Donna to tidy up (oh, the guilt ;-)). It was great to once again get my massage from my long-time massage therapist. Thanks, Connie, you are good for my body and my soul, though as you probably would guess, I am wiped from the massage! (I told Gary you said to tell him that I was the best wife in the world ;-). Actually, that brought tears to his eyes and he said I was, and thanked me. At bedtime, as I got his pants off him, he patted me and said, “You’re the best wife in the world, but you’re nobody’s missus.” (I hate being called “Mrs.” because it makes me feel like an appendage, so whenever anybody uses that title with me, I correct them and sometimes add, “I’m nobody’s missus.”) I asked him what had brought that to his mind, and he shrugged and said it was an interesting juxtaposition.)
After the massage I picked Gary up from a math meeting (since he was sitting right up front, I couldn’t be too surreptitious about this!). When we got home I found Janet and Donna had finished clearing off shelves in one of the closets in the small bedroom and had even put some stacking racks in there so as to make it more usable for clothes storage. Blackjack seems to have survived the sorting ordeal – earlier in the afternoon I had seen him run on his belly into that bedroom to hide under the bed (he didn’t go outside because the garage people were out there, and at the time he scrambled into the bedroom Janet and Donna were in the front part of the house so he probably thought he’d be “safe”).
Oh, and Janet, remember how you said the back on the ergonomic “Balance Ball Chair” didn’t look quite right? When I looked at the one owned by one of the massage therapists I realized I had put the back on backwards (hey, I was a set-theoretic topologist, not a geometric topologist ;-)).
After Norma told me in an email what yesterday’s gift was, I felt like smacking my head, having had a vague feeling as I was writing yesterday’s blog that I should know what the gift was. Norma explains: “The last gift that you opened is a scrimshaw (which is usually done on ivory or a whale's tooth) on a musk-ox horn. (A musk ox looks a little like a cross between a buffalo and a cow and apparently it is native to Alaska.)”
Tonight Gary viewed some of the Flightseeing images that Phyllis and Donne sent; he said it was quite impressive!
All for today.
posted by Peg Daniels at 7:42 PM
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