“You drive now?” ask Jerry Hsu, a friend/co-worker who saw me leaving work with keys in my hand.

“Yup, I’ve been driving for 1 ½ years,” I said.

“You sold your Celica.”

“Yes, to my mom.  I could not work the clutch with my left leg.”

“You still have trouble with that.”

“No so much now, but when I started driving, I did.  Even now an automatic just gives me one less thing to think about.”

“You are very lucky,” he said, “I had a friend that survived one surgery, but he did not survive the second.  You are lucky.”

“I know.  I keep reminding myself that each day is a gift.”

I need to remind myself of life’s gifts because I quickly and often obsess about my losses or what I could be doing differently.  My awkwardness on my left has improved a lot, but every time I do something that reminds me of it, type, sit down, etc. It reminds me of my loss.

Then there’s the question of drugs. I’ve only reduced my meds a little since the surgery.  My mother keeps saying – “your quality of life would be so much better if you could reduce them more.”  Just when I feel like I might be ready to try, I’ll have “an aura” like last Monday – like a pre-seizure that makes me think maybe it’s not time to change or worse…obsess that I might be getting sick.

Then there’s the obsession about how I’m not as ‘quick’ a thinker as I used to be.  “How many reams of paper will a 6,000 page printer cartridges print?” used to be a very easy question.  Now it takes me several minutes to break down the question in my head.

I obsess about every change in how I feel.  Am I too tired?  Is my arm or leg getting tense? Am I feeling ‘whosy?’  

I am often paralyzed by all of this when I try to think more than one day ahead.  What scares me is my grandmother – a very strong and rational person – slowly lost her sight as she got older.  And when I’d visit, that is what she’d always talk about, “if only I could see again.”  At the time, I wished she could ‘see’ passed her situation because I thought she would live a much happier life. It was not to be.

So here I find myself in the same situation.  I am 38 not 72, but the concept is feels the same.  Whoa is me.

To try to grow a little, I have been going to some ALAN meetings.  These are for relatives of alcoholics, but also focus on a ‘spiritual awakening.’ I’m learning is to ask for guidance from (g-d, a higher power).   I see that I do not control ‘what happens,’ but I do control my response.  And I don’t mean I am always reactive, it more a realization that things I do not understand make some things happen.  I’m not with satisfied ‘it was just random’ or ‘I controlled the situation to that end.’

So when I get really frustrated, scared or worried, I ask for guidance.  This is a new to me so all I can report now is it has helped me.

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Since it’s been a lot time since I’ve written, let me just catch you up on some news.  In September I started working 30 hrs/wk.  This is going well, but has cut into my time with the kids.

My two-year follow up MRI results were: “Dr. Black says the scan looks great and he hopes you are feeling as well as it looks. Fondly, Donna for Dr. Black. Give our best to Abi.”

Abi is now in the middle of her second year of medical school at OU and study hard for the Medical Boards.  She will be moving back to Dayton in September. 

Day-to-day life is very good.  Hana is great. She does gymnastics twice a week and enjoys drawing and school.  Zachary has been sick, first with one thing or another for too long…maybe he is on the mend now.  One more doctor visit to go.  His Barmizva is already planned for March 1, 2003 in Yellow Springs. 

I went to California for the first time to visit my bother in Oakland in December.  I did okay and I was very happy to see him and where he lives.   He lives in a warehouse that has several rooms organically built into the space.  He is the ‘land lord.’  This was my first trip alone since my last surgery. 

Abi’s dad died in October suddenly.  He had just written me two days before wishing me a happy and health Jewish New Year.   He had had health trouble 12 years ago and retired.  We had never seen him so happy.  He pursued many different hobbies, art, music, programming.   He’d always remind me – in his way – that every day is a gift.

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So, as I move into 2002, this is the first year I did not even think about New Year’s resolutions.  Getting through the next week is about all I can think about some times. 

Thanks for caring. 

Love and warm wishes, 

Dan