Adventures in Town

Saturday, April 19 was a day to remember. And I had mixed feelings about it all day. First of all, I had this pesky cold for the last few days which produced coughing at unexpected intervals and I planned to wait out the day in blessed bed rest, intermingled with the torture of watching the news ad nauseum about Barak and Hillary and their frivolous arguments about who is better at leading the country. But it seems to be turning out to be a series of explanations on gaffes they each had in their speeches. What does that have to do with anything? When a person talks and talks, he/she’s apt to say something off the wall at times.

But my best laid plans were interrupted around 11 a.m. when Lucy asked me if I was getting ready to go.

“Go where?”

“To RSVP—for lunch.”

“Oh yes, I forgot.” I really didn’t want to go. Lucy had intercepted the invite a week ago so it was not in my planned itinerary. I was the only way for Lucy to go, and I am on the list of volunteers too so it was mandatory to oblige.

Even though I inwardly objected, I dressed and we took off around 11:30 and arrived at the Union Hall (UAW) in Ontario just west of Mansfield. The room was almost full of the many volunteers who help out, already sitting at rows of tables and talking among themselves.

RSVP is an organization that organizes volunteers for various duties around a few counties. Lucy and I had done mailings for the Red Cross on occasion, and in 2005 there was an ice storm which produced a lot of local damage. The township had suggested writing to them about damages but then the order was given to call FEMA at an 800 number. Lucy and I spent all morning at the Municipal Office calling people who had written in to let them know they have to call FEMA to list their structural damages—and they would not be reimbursed for lost refrigerator or freezer food. (The electricity had been off for quite awhile at the time.) It was an interesting job. Since it started early in the morning some people answered by getting out of the shower, or even getting out of bed. Everyone was cordial about it though. They appreciated the information.

So now we were attending the annual awards luncheon, which was a bit of a departure from having it in the evening. They wanted to try a noon meeting for a change.

We found a place to sit. Kathie Cutlip, the RSVP Director, had already put a setting for us. One place had room for Lucy’s wheelchair.

One woman spotted me and asked if I work at the News Journal. I told her I used to; I stopped working there in April 2004. She had spotted my name on the list and knew it was familiar but now she had a face to put to it when I showed up. She had worked in the office of the News Journal before and had often seen me there. Her name was Susan Schuller and she was the RSVP Volunteer Coordinator. She told me she had left the News Journal in 2005.

I felt better about being there and we had a nice catered luncheon. Since I was on crutches one of the dining staff brought my tray to the table. Lucy put hers on the wheelchair foot deck to carry it to the table. She insists on helping herself.

After the luncheon Kathie Cutlip introduced the Honorable Donald Culliver, Mayor of Mansfield; the Honorable Gene Parkison, Mayor of Lexington (south of Mansfield); and the Honorable Ken Bender, Mayor of Ontario (west of Mansfield); along with Richland County Commissioner Gary Utt. They thanked the audience of volunteers for the service we rendered, noting how much of a financial burden was lifted by our voluntary service. They indicated how many hours were logged by our service and the benefits they did for the various organizations that used our services.

Afterward the names of people winning door prizes were called out. Lucy got a $5 discount for a meal at Mansfield Restaurants. There are two of them in Mansfield. I didn't get anything.

All in all we had a good time. I had a couple short sessions of coughing which I stifled with drinks of water or punch, and lemonade. We left before the main body of people left.

There was also another invite we had that day. We got word that Independent Living had two tickets to see The Barber of Seville at the Renaissance Theater in town at 8 p.m. I love Rossini’s music and we went off to the theater around 7:30. It was starting to rain and I told Lucy I could drop her off in front of the theater, but she insisted I just continue on to the parking lot. It wasn't raining that hard.

I pulled into the parking lot and there were two spaces left. I pulled into the space, knowing that I could open the side doors to let Lucy out into the other space available. I was about ready to open the doors when a car sailed into the space beside me and parked. Fortunately, I did not let my immediate feelings unnerve me. I just slowly backed up to allow our doors to be opened behind the offending vehicle. Someone behind me blew the horn as I was backing but I didn’t see them, and didn’t care at the time, as long as they didn’t hit me. I wasn't going to back very far. I just wanted to let Lucy off the van.

The driver beside us got out and realized what he did and stood there in apparent consternation to make sure we were OK as Lucy descended in her wheelchair. He repeatedly asked if everything was OK. We told him we were all right. To make conversation, Lucy told him we were fortunate to find parking spaces. He looked at me to make sure I was OK. I nodded and smiled (I think).

Something like that happened before at another shopping area, and the lady driver acknowledged that she understood what she did, as a sort of apology although she was in an awful hurry at the time. It doesn’t happen too often. I decide to take such things in stride, knowing that other drivers are often not living in our handicap world.

So…it wasn’t raining very much as I walked about a block to the theater. Lucy took off and disappeared and I caught up with her in the theater lobby. She was already in line to retrieve the tickets. I sat down in a nearby seat to wait.

We finally got into the theater itself. Our seats were in the back row but because Lucy was on a wheelchair we sat behind the last row and I sat in a chair they provided for me. It was a good spot to see the opera.

This is the first time I remember hearing the Mansfield Symphony. I was enthralled with the music. The vocals were in Italian and there was a small screen at the top which gave the audience the translations.

Lucy fell asleep at one point. She’s not an opera fan. I was getting bored with some of it too but I was mainly listening to the orchestra.

Then in the middle of it all all hell broke loose. I started getting into a fit of coughing. I tried to suppress it and I suppose the few rows in front of me thought I was strangling. A couple of people gave a cough in sympathy—or warning, and I was finally able to stop. Lucy gave me a stick of gum and that helped for the rest of the program. I had the idea to head out the door during the episode but I didn't know if they would let me back in during the performance.

Before Act II there was an intermission and we chose to leave at that point. I didn’t want another seizure of coughing. We went home and went to bed, and I stayed there through Sunday morning.

Another factor that got me in a bit of a snit on the weekend was that the Friday dialysis treatment did not go well. I was taken off treatment before the first hour, so I didn’t really have a treatment. (Treatments last four hours.) The machine didn’t work maybe because something was clogged in the access catheters in my chest. The nurse put in Activade which would sit in the lines until next treatment to dissolve any obstruction.

Monday was my next treatment. In the waiting room were a few people who asked me if I got a new catheter. I realized they had been discussing my leaving early on Friday among themselves. They were concerned. I told them what happened, and when the Monday treatment was over I told a couple who were still there that everything went OK, except that I didn’t tell them that I got into a nasty fit of coughing during treatment. I asked for water, which helped it somewhat, but I can’t wait for this session of spring health challenge to dissolve into oblivion. I had refused a flu shot a month ago. This isn't really the flu; it has to be a change-in-the-weather cold.

Lucy had the same thing a couple weeks ago. You can blame her for my misery—not really!

So, these are some of our adventures and misadventures that happen on an occasional basis. I guess you can call it a birthday present for Lucy. Her birthday is on April 22.

1994 Ford Econoline

Sunday, March 30, was a nice day for a change. The weather was finally warming up after a winter of rain, snow and cold. The beginning of Spring had sneaked by on the calendar and we were waiting for more physical evidence of it. So the sun was shining on Sunday. Lucy and I were at church in Fredericksburg, Ohio which is 37 miles from home. I felt good about the day.

I have a 1994 Ford Econoline E150 van with a wheelchair lift (for picture see October 21, 2007)and I started turning it around to let Lucy get on in her power wheelchair. Something snapped in the van's steering mechanism and when I straightened out the steering wheel it snapped again. So what happened?

Not knowing too much about the details of some parts of the auto mechanics I went by what was happening after that—I could still steer, but there was something different about it while driving. There was more play in the steering wheel so I drove slower to the next destination—the Farmer Boy Restaurant in Wooster, about 10 miles away. When we arrived there, I looked underneath at all the grime and rust on the front axle but didn’t know what I was looking for, so after a nice meal of pork and sauerkraut for me, and a large salad for Lucy, we continued on home, another 40 miles. Route 30 west is a fairly straight run so I wasn’t worried about turning any sharp corners. I just didn’t want to lose the ability to steer and I drove slower, taking my time to get home in one piece. (Slower meant driving 55 mph. I usually drive 65.) After all, if I broke down, Lucy wouldn’t be able to ride in just any car—unless she abandoned her wheelchair. I also noticed that the steering wheel was not in the same position while driving on a straight run. God help us.

We finally arrived home and I breathed a sigh of relief. I would definitely have to get the van checked out in a day or two.

On Tuesday I got up early and planned to drive it to Monro auto mechanics. I had a fleeting thought that I would meet someone rather significant there. I drove it into town about 10 miles away to get serviced. This time there were turns to negotiate and I was careful to take it slowly. I thought there was even more play in the steering wheel, which was not good. I arrived at the service station and went straight into the parking lot and carefully parked it in front of the service bays.

I got out and headed for the service area and waiting room. A man inside, who later introduced himself as Gary, saw me approaching on crutches and he opened the door for me. He was quite conversational and we introduced ourselves to each other. He was also a customer and waiting for service on his car. Jim, the service tech, had already been alerted about my problem and he told me he would look at the van soon.

Gary and I talked meanwhile. I had never met him before but we had a lot to talk about. At one point I glanced out the window and noticed that they were moving my van and I idly wondered why it was just sitting in the middle between where I parked it, and the building. I couldn't see the whole scene so I didn't pay any more attention.

Later Jim walked in from the service area and, placing his hands on the service desk said, “Wes, you are blessed! The steering is gone completely. It took a couple of us to bring the van into the building. There are four bolts on the gear box and three of them are sheared off. The only way you had the ability to steer was by the one bolt left on and now that is broken too.” Later on he told me he couldn’t see how I was able to steer at all with the damage that had been done. He never saw anything like that before.

I would have loved to just junk the van and get another one, or at least trade it in for another one but, financially it was not feasible at this point. It would have to be fixed if possible. I called Lucy and told her the news and she was agreeable to getting it fixed. There had been a few problems with it recently but I had put quite a bit of money into getting it fixed up so we can try to get a few more hundred miles (or thousands) out of it. Jim gave an estimate on it; at least it was a lot cheaper than getting a new vehicle. Gary, sitting by and waiting for his own car to be worked on, told me it couldn’t be fixed in a day and offered to take me home. I gratefully agreed and he told Jim to not bother working on his car today, he would take me home.

Gary was retired and had been a faithful customer for years because he trusted Jim to do a good job on his vehicles. He didn’t have any emergency need for repair and was willing to accommodate me in my need for a ride home. We had a lot to talk about because of our similar backgrounds and it was a godsend all around for the circumstances to play out as they did.

Thank you God for the protection you afforded us.