JAYSPEAK

“THREE YEARS LATER – Remembering…

I know. I know. I said I was not going to write anything today. And, here I am. But, I have some thoughts that I want to share. Plus, writing brings me comfort. And, if you find this a tad “schmaltzy” (is that a word…), thank you in advance for bearing with me.

Three years ago today, my husband, Steve Orlandella, lay in the hospital with tubes and machines running full-time. He had been that way for most of August, going in and out of consciousness. During that time, medicine controlled double pneumonia. Yet, his lungs would not work. Neither would his heart. He remained in ICU around-the-clock. Toward the end of August, the doctors suggested performing a tracheotomy to help him survive. I assumed he would survive. So, when they transported him to Hopital L’Archet to perform that procedure, I stood by, waiting for news.

On the morning of August 31, 2016, (a Wednesday, around 9:00 a.m.) my cell phone rang. It was a nurse, calling from the hospital. Could I come to the hospital at 2:00 p.m? The doctors wanted to talk to me. I assumed they were calling about the procedure. At 2:00 p.m., I met with four doctors, who were facing me in a semi-circle. The oldest one spoke. At first, I waited for him to say what I thought he would say. He did not say it. Instead, he began describing Steve’s heart to me, showing me what it was doing and not doing. They could not perform the tracheotomy. He would not survive that procedure. In fact, he would not survive.

After that, I don’t remember much of what any of them said. It was a lot of medical jargon. I just knew I was being told that Steve would die that afternoon. They asked me if I wanted to spend a couple of hours with him before they disconnected the machines. I said yes. I went into his room. Just then, one of the machines tried to start his heart with a jolt. When I looked at him, I knew. He was not there.

Believe me, each year since then has been rough. Last year, I flew with his ashes to Boston for burial. And, today, I went on a long walk, remembering. I walked by places that we went together. Every (most every) Sunday. And, it was bittersweet. I was happy my legs felt strong and sad that my life with Steve is over. Well, not really. He will always be a part of me. “Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.” ~ Rumi

And, of course, I made a movie of the day. Click here on this live link. Hopefully, it will work for you. It should. I bought this new hat and some new sunglasses today. This sun is intense! Right now, it is 86 outside. “Feels like 89”.

BEST, JAY!

MY BEST FRIEND

One Week from today, on August 31, 2016 (3 years ago), I lost my best friend. His name was/is Steve Orlandella (August 11, 1950 – August 31, 2016). Today, I plan to share some thoughts with you. I won’t be writing about him next week. I plan to use that day to remember. Not write.

We had a rocky relationship at first. We met in June 1993, as a result of a “fluke”. I happened to be at Dodger Stadium to present a painting to Oral Hershiser for Very Special Arts California. Steve was there with a cameraman, assigned to shoot the presentation. I did not like that he was making me wait, and wait, and wait. So, I let him know what I thought about him, the painting, and Oral Hershiser. To “apologize”, he asked me to dinner. I went. And, from there, the relationship waxed and waned (mostly waned) until 2004.

In 2004, the relationship began to wax, and on August 7, 2005, we got married. For eleven fun years, we laughed, had fun, made love, and worked through lots of problems together. We even moved to Nice, France, on a whim – for fun!

And, we had fun together until August 2, 2016. He collapsed with double pneumonia. Thinking it was temporary, we survived that month of August 2016 with him in the hospital and my visiting, wanting to know when he could come home. Somehow, we would get through this together.

It did not happen. He died. I am not sure when he actually died because I knew he was gone when I saw him that day in the hospital on August 31, 2016. He was no longer in that body. I stayed in denial throughout. I was glad that we talked a lot about things because I knew what he wanted me to do. He knew what I wanted him to do “in case.” The doctors in France were supposed to ask me when to cut off the machines. They told me – 4 of them. I don’t remember being asked about much of anything. However, I saw them do everything they could to save his life. His heart failed. So, the machines were no problem. He was gone.

I need to let this go. It has been three years already. I need to live while I still can. I saw a meme this week that says it all.

I also tried to encourage a Facebook friend who recently lost her son and another friend who is having difficulty downsizing. Then, I realized that I don’t really know either one of them. I am talking to myself. I am now “my best friend”. This is what I said to one of them (omitting her name and remembering how difficult it was for me at first). That is when I realized that I was talking to myself:

“Don’t try to celebrate (on your birthday). Mourn all day if you have to. Don’t put demands or expectations on anything. Isolate yourself if necessary. Cry all day. It will get better. Not yet. Too soon. It is a time for mourning. Don’t look to others. They trivialize the pain – which is very real and cannot be explained. Or shared. Trust me. It gets better. Think of yourself. Not _____. He is dead. Gone. Never to return. You are alive. It is your responsibility to relearn how to live. After a major setback. You need to re-examine how you are going to use the time you have to do what you want before it is too late. Health is precarious. ______ had a health problem. Live for both of you. Take him along for the ride. Inside you. Forget celebrations for now.”

Lesson learned. I must not try to encourage anyone. I am still working on my own situation. Everyone’s suffering is different. And especially now, when the entire world is literally and figuratively in chaos.

So, those are a few of my thoughts as I prepare to change my life. It is time for me to relearn how to live. I am not sure how, but I don’t plan to stay in Nice. I do not plan to return to the United States. No, I am going to try to find a place for me in Paris. That is where it all started – in August, 1957 (long story). It is time to resume a theme that has run throughout my life since I was twelve!!! As I have said before, “If not now, when?”

Charles Dickens comes to mind. Maybe it is time to re-read his “Tale of Two Cities”: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way”.

WOW! Sound familiar? I will explain a lot of this in another post at some point in time – maybe. But, in the meantime, here are two more memes that speak to me. Life is special. Remember.

Best, Jay

Something to Think About

This is Charlie Chaplin at age 26, photographed 100 years ago. It’s believed he wrote the poem below at age 70.

He read the poem – however it was written by author Kim McMillen. Completely beautiful no matter what. Xxx

As I began to love myself

I found that anguish and emotional suffering

are only warning signs that I was living

against my own truth.

Today, I know, this is Authenticity.

As I began to love myself

I understood how much it can offend somebody

if I try to force my desires on this person,

even though I knew the time was not right

and the person was not ready for it,

and even though this person was me.

Today I call this Respect.

As I began to love myself

I stopped craving for a different life,

and I could see that everything

that surrounded me

was inviting me to grow.

Today I call this Maturity.

As I began to love myself

I understood that at any circumstance,

I am in the right place at the right time,

and everything happens at the exactly right moment.

So I could be calm.

Today I call this Self-Confidence.

As I began to love myself

I quit stealing my own time,

and I stopped designing huge projects

for the future.

Today, I only do what brings me joy and happiness,

things I love to do and that make my heart cheer,

and I do them in my own way

and in my own rhythm.

Today I call this Simplicity.

As I began to love myself

I freed myself of anything

that is no good for my health –

food, people, things, situations,

and everything that drew me down

and away from myself.

At first I called this attitude a healthy egoism.

Today I know it is Love of Oneself.

As I began to love myself

I quit trying to always be right,

and ever since

I was wrong less of the time.

Today I discovered that is Modesty.

As I began to love myself

I refused to go on living in the past

and worrying about the future.

Now, I only live for the moment,

where everything is happening.

Today I live each day,

day by day,

and I call it Fulfillment.

As I began to love myself

I recognized

that my mind can disturb me

and it can make me sick.

But as I connected it to my heart,

my mind became a valuable ally.

Today I call this connection Wisdom of the Heart.

We no longer need to fear arguments,

confrontations or any kind of problems

with ourselves or others.

Even stars collide,

and out of their crashing, new worlds are born.

Today I know: This is Life!

THE GOOD NEWS V. THE BAD NEWS

Do you want the GOOD news or the BAD news? Steve always wanted the BAD news first. But, I choose to give you some GOOD news, so, here goes……Well, the GOOD news in this day and age of hourly “BREAKING (BAD) NEWS”, is that I am pondering another question of seemingly minimal importance compared to the life and death question of “Are we at nuclear war yet?” No, instead of wondering if I need a face mask for the nuclear fallout or do I just watch it approach over the horizon (more BAD news), I am pondering the question – how do I pay back this favor? (The GOOD news) Let me explain.

I am receiving favours from people. Some are friends; others are strangers. So, every time a favour crosses my path, I have to ask myself, “What is the sub-text?” (my actress training) “What is really going on here?” (my attorney training, too). I also ask, “Do I accept this favor?” and “If I do, what strings are attached?” Because I think there are ALWAYS strings attached! What do I mean? Well, a “thank you” usually requires an implicit or explicit “you’re welcome” (in French, if possible). OK, that is a very simplistic way of looking at it, but when you think about it, if someone does you a favor, you need to reciprocate in some way. The trick comes in knowing the best way to do it. It continually baffles me. So, I end up guessing as to what strings are attached. And, if I don’t guess correctly, there are consequences. I foolishly think saying “thank you” will be enough, and it NEVER is. I am still working on what will be enough in certain situations. If I am lucky or smart enough to “guess” what is expected from me, I then have to examine whether I am willing to do that or not. Just plain old favours that you need, like, “Can I give you a ride to the luncheon in Mougins?” Or, “Would you like for me to help you pack?”

So, over-thinking becomes the norm. I want to be appreciative, but I never know the best way to do that these days. I want and need the favor, but I know that I must be ready and willing to reciprocate. So, sometimes I say that I don’t need something because the only way I know to pay someone back is to take them to lunch or dinner or something that costs money. And, that gets expensive. The French have different expectations than expats. The British have others. See what I mean? But, I find – if I ask myself these questions, it seems to cover most people from most countries.

First question: Is this really a “favor”? And, if this person does me this “favour”, what, if anything, is expected back from me. How am I going to reciprocate? I keep reading memes on Facebook, wishing people would “just be nice”. Just be kind. Just be generous. Pay it forward. I don’t find there are a lot of people who “pay it forward”. Maybe. Or maybe I am wrong. Or, maybe it is my need to appear to be strong and independent, when I actually need a favor. Hmmmm. I must give that further consideration. Just sayin….. And now, a few memes (4) to ponder, along with some cartoons for fun (5)…..

Best, Jay

“TRUTH” AND CONSEQUENCES!

When I start out to write a post on the weekends, I usually lack inspiration. However, during the week, that is all I can think about – saying “that should be a blog” or “great idea for a post!!” This week, I was all excited about expounding on “truth”, as in “There is SO much none of us will ever know.” (I was watching a program regarding what is “really” going on with our U.S. National Prayer Breakfasts.) In retrospect, that seems like a “duh” moment. Of course, there is so much we will NEVER know. Maybe that is the good news. And, the older I get, the more that becomes apparent. That doesn’t keep me from wanting to know more each day, thinking that at some point, I will know what is “true”. WRONG. It is not going to happen. I will just have to be satisfied with doing the best I can. That is really all I can do anyway.

Maybe that is the way it has always been. We can choose what we want to believe. “Truth” doesn’t exist. I am beginning to realize the power that gives me. The bigger my world gets, the more I realize that I have the power to choose what I want to believe. And, then deal with the consequences. So, with that thought in mind, I will post these commentaries – without commentary. Just know – somewhere within the non-commentary is my idea of “truth”, as I choose to believe it. Haha. At least, at this point in time. It could change with a whim and without notice. Just go with it! A word of warning – DON’T TRY TO SELL ME ON YOUR VERSION OF TRUTH. Chances are pretty good that I won’t buy it. No, I reserve the right to choose what I want to believe, thank you.

I think this is a good time for me to say thank you to all of the people who have checked out these posts. I really do appreciate it. Of all the 20,000 words that I have written to date (WordPress has kept count! Haha), I have had 5,923 visitors from all over the world, 33,700 views. Now, not everyone has “liked” my posts, but I am amazed that that many people have been curious. Thank you very much. I cannot promise that I will be different in the future. Your guess is as good as mine. We will all have to trust the inspiration of the moment.

Best, Jay

AUGUST!!

Has anyone written a song about August? At the moment, I cannot recall one. I don’t know how I feel about August. This is not new news. It has never been a month that I look forward to – like June. Or September. Or October. Or April. And, now, it causes me much angst. It is the month that Steve was born; That Steve got sick and died; that Steve and I got married; that Steve was buried in Boston with his family; that I married Darrell MacIntyre; and that many “best and used-to-be best” friends have birthdays. So, as a result, I am walking myself silly, trying to build my legs back to “normal” – whatever that is.

SO, some wonderful memories and some not-so-wonderful memories – all of them vivid in my mind’s eye. It would be nice if I could just “move on”, but so far, I have not been able to do that. Well, sorta. So, in honor of Steve Orlandella and good friends, here are some dates and some pictures.

August 7: Steve Orlandella and Jay W. MacIntosh got married in Las Vegas, Nevada.

August 9: Steve Orlandella was buried in Boston, MA, along side his family, per his wishes.

August 11: Steve Orlandella was born in Boston, MA, to his mother and father, Vito and Therese Orlandella.

August 31: Steve Orlandella died of heart failure at Hopital L’Archet in Nice, France.

Other dates:

August 7: My friend Alice’s birthday.

August 13: My friend Rosemary’s birthday.

August 14: My friend Carole’s birthday.

August 17: My anniversary with Darrell William MacIntyre (my children’s father).

These were dates that still hover in my mind every August. Plus, there are many more August birthdays and events but these are foremost in my “days gone by” memory book because they were printed with indelible ink into my brain. (Remember “indelible ink” – that dates me right there!! haha). So this post is dedicated to all of those people who are part of my past in important ways. Gone, but not forgotten. And, they never will be. Period, end of story!

Best, Jay

UPDATE! HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS!

I am now back home, trying to get things back to “normal”. I was gone for a month. That is a long time for plants, cleaning, and a cat. I was lucky enough to have a friend to look after the cat and to water the plants, but we had extraordinary heat hit the area while I was away, and there is only so much that can be done to an apartment that is not air-conditioned. So, everything suffered, including my friend. Normally, July is not so hot – well, sorta, but this was exceptional. And, I caught an infection in the rehab center that was circulating throughout the facility. So, it was tough.

I immediately “overdid” when I arrived home on Monday morning. But I managed to lick the infection and slowly – doing a “little bit” each day – have gotten things under control – sorta.

The EXCELLENT news is that I have had my one-month checkup with Dr. Mandrino; all x-rays have come back excellent; and he told me to drop the cane. Period, end-of-story. So, I have “girded my courage to the sticking place” and done it. So far, I have made to the turn-around (3 blocks and back) and gone to the grocery story (next door) without problem. I cannot tell you how happy that makes me. My life has been on hold since September 27, 2018. (sigh) Now, I can move forward once again (whatever that means). I feel younger already!!

Missy has started purring again; the plants are thriving – sorta; and I have groceries in the house. Another friend is helping me in other ways, with an air-conditioner and housekeeper. And, a third friend helped me tremendously when I was in Rehab to get my medicine from home to help me with the infection.

I am very blessed to have this help during my hour of need. Now, I must find fun ways to repay each one of them. It is important not to have “expectations”- of family, friends, acquaintances. I delight when I am pleasantly surprised by a phone call or a word of encouragement. Life is a delicate balance. I guess that is a “duh” statement. But, as I get older and really need help, it is important to have good friends. Treat them with respect.

Just saying……

Best, Jay

SOME RANDOM THOUGHTS ON A SUNDAY MORNING….

On a very small scale, I find myself thinking about the time I have left on this planet. How will I spend it – “God willing, and the Crick Don’t Rise”. I won’t live to see the death, doom, and destruction that many are predicting for this world. Maybe. I am already seeing the results of climate change. I may see more than I think. Who knows? So, I don’t want to base my plans on fear, trying to “be safe”. There is no such place. Never was. It is time to think about my “quality of life”. Mother lived her last remaining days (18 years) in the comfort of her home, surrounded by “stuff” in a town where she had lived most of her life. So did Mama Dorough. So, did my sister Barbara and my sister Patricia. Oops. Not going to happen with me. So, time to think about what I want in this last section. Now, you realize, I may not get to choose, but I want to start making some choices, even if all plans are smashed to smithereens. They were before, and probably will be again. What kind of life do I want? What “quality” of life?

What quality of life? What’s that? I woke up this morning thinking about what that means to me. One of the last things that my son, Craig, said to me before he got on a plane to go back to California, was, “I don’t get it! I just don’t get it. Why are you here?” I have no answer. There is not a simple answer. But, if I think about it, I wanted to improve my quality of life. Steve did, too. He did not like Los Angeles. He particularly did not like the traffic – which was getting worse.

I did what I needed to do regarding my law practice, and we moved to Nice, France, for no good reason on October 1, 2015. Why Nice? Who knows! It seemed like an adventure waiting to happen. He loved Monaco and Formula 1. I loved Steve and France. So, off we went! Before August 2016, we shared Antibes, St. Tropez, San Remo, Monaco, Villefrance Sur Mer, Cannes, Cap Ferrat, Marseille, Aix en Provence, Sardinia, Vence, Paris, and nooks and crannies in Nice. It was fun and wonderful. Plus, my two weeks in LA (a court case) with Patricia Rye. Then, BAM! Steve was Gone. In a flash!

As my Garmin would say, “Recalculating”. Now, we have a Major Kaleidoscopic Shift going on. Actually, the world seems to be going through a Major Kaleidoscopic Shift! What do I mean?

Before, when I was younger, I wanted position, power, money, attention, a beautiful home, expensive car. Now, not so much. I now want to be surrounded by trees, flowers. I want to see the sky and the clouds. I want a sweet cat. I want a good croissant, fresh-squeezed orange juice, clean water, and a good cup of coffee. I want to talk to people I enjoy. I want to learn more about the world and other people. I want to hear their stories. Expand my horizons.

Fame no longer matters. (I never thought I would say that!) Money lets me get the apartment I want with a patio and a view of trees and go to the good restaurants. My car just needs to work. I want to be able to walk without a cane; sit by the Sea; buy some fresh peaches from a farmer at the market; take home 12 roses for the kitchen counter; feel the Mediterranean on my head, as I duck under water. I want to have energy; browse in Galleries Lafayette; try on an Armani suit. Buy a Calvin Klein pair of slacks. Get a Donna Karen blazer. Get some Chanel lipstick. Well, maybe all of that takes more money than my retired budget. Well, then, make choices. Get some of it, not all of it. Go to a cabaret to hear good local music. Buy sandals and pretty sun dresses. Laugh a lot. I can do a lot of that here. The French enjoy life. I see them talking to each other over a glass of wine. Happy faces. The men love their children. I see them with their kids in the park. Playing together.

OK. It is not perfect. But, it is pretty damn good. And, I am left to my own devices. People are friendly and nice. Not great, because I don’t speak their language, but I speak enough to get by. And, I have offers to help me coming from everyone. The man in the dress shop; Caroline’s father (who wants to learn English), the French lady at this Centre who lives in Liberation who likes me and wants me to be more patient and more reasonable. Haha. (I was angry because they wouldn’t let me go home on Friday.)

What am I trying to say? That, since I moved to France, life has forced me to let go – of just about everything I once held in high esteem. My country is not the same; my family is not the same; a lot of my friends have fallen by the wayside. And, here I am. Looking forward to returning home to a hot apartment in a mediocre building in a mediocre section of Nice, France; and selling my reliable Mini-Cooper. Between you and me, I now appreciate more than ever what I have and what I had. I feel quite blessed to live by the Sea in a beautiful part of this world with friends to help me if I ask. I plan to water my plants, hug my cat, put on my favorite jewelry (diamond studs for my ears and my diamond cross for my neck), buy some croissants from my favorite bakery, and enjoy being back home. Then, we will see what is next. Who knows? Stay tuned……

Now, you realize that all of this is subject to change without notice!!! Haha. Just saying…….

Best, Jay

THIS IS MY WORLD AND WELCOME TO IT – AGAIN!!!

In my Universal Bubble here, I am into my third week of recovery at La Serena Convalescence Center here in Nice, France, after my second knee replacement surgery, on June 27, 2019. A bit of background to connect the dots (Remember Connecting the dots when you were a child?) I had a knee replacement on September 27, 2018, because I had lost most of the cartilage in my right knee and was having difficulty walking, especially going up and down steps. (My left knee also has problems, but it is better than my right.) My general practitioner referred me to Dr. Olivier Castillo, telling me he was an excellent Orthopaedic Surgeon. I liked Dr. Castillo and got the shots in both knees in January 2017 and 2018. It helped but I still had problems. So, I made the decision to have the knee replacement surgery in September 2018, which I did. It was very expensive for me.

Nothing seemed to be going right. Lots of pain and limping. My right knee turned out and my right leg seemed shorter than my left. It got worse. Well-meaning friends would scold me for limping and encourage me to walk more. Every time I saw Dr. Castillo, I complained about the limp and the pain. And, he would scold me for not walking more and tell me to drop the cane and walk at least 40 minutes EVERY day. He would test my ability to flex my knee. I had excellent flexibility. He would exclaim, “SUPER”. Dictate something in French into his computer, and tell me to come back in a month and charge me. 55 euros for the visit. Needless to say, I was discouraged. I could not walk without a cane. And, I had a limp and lots of pain.

Before my six month checkup, I had to get X-rays. When, I got them, I was shocked to see that I was right – the knees had very different numbers. No wonder I had a limp. I showed the x-rays to friends and ALL of them encouraged me to get a second opinion. I decided to see Dr. Castillo for my six-month checkup in March 2019 before doing so (getting a second opinion), and he looked at my x-rays. I told him I could not walk without a cane and had a lot of pain. He asked me to flex. I could flex. No problem. I just could NOT walk. That is when Dr. Castillo made a choice. To address the problem or to sweep it under the table. In my opinion, he made the wrong choice. He swept it under the table by ignoring it as a problem. He exclaimed, “SUPER!” Told me to take something for my pain and that he would see me in six months.

I left his office, made an appointment to see my general practitioner, got a referral to see Dr. Alain Mandrino, an expert’s expert, (the referral is a requirement in France for it to be covered by the French Medical Plan), made an appointment with Dr. Mandrino for late April 2019. He did not have an opening for almost 4 weeks. When I finally saw him, he looked at the same x-rays that Dr. Castillo had seen. He got a measuring instrument of some sort. Wrote down something and turned to me. He said words to the effect, “your knees are 13 degrees off. The prothesis is incorrect for a woman of your age and is doing damage to your leg every time you walk on it. It must be replaced as soon as possible. ” I set a date for late June (June 27) because my son and daughter-in-law were coming to Nice in June. I wanted to be able to get around while they were here.

Craig and Jean came in June. I was able to do a few things with them. And, I had a two-hour surgery on June 27, with Dr. Mandrino. He repaired and replaced my right knee Prothesis. After the surgery, he explained to me what had happened and showed me the x-rays taken by the Hospital just before the surgery. So, I had before and after x-rays. There it was! Clear as a bell. The wrong prothesis had pushed bone out of place, turned my leg to the right, and was damaging my entire body as I tried to compensate in order to move. It would not fix itself. It would get worse over time. I WAS PERMANENTLY LAME. I am still trying to process this unfortunate happenstance of events.

All of this has been very expensive. I do not have this kind of money. And, as an attorney, my first thought has been to sue. But, French law is completely unknown to me. So, I will give this time and attention after I get better and try to figure out finances. Do French attorneys do work on a contingency? I hope so. And, as Paul Harvey would say, “And now, you know the rest of the story!!” (Remember Paul Harvey? Am I dating myself? So?)

I cannot say enough good things about La Serena Convalescence Center. This is my second time here. I don’t know what happened, but last time, it was terrible. Now, it is terrific. It could be that I have changed, but it also seems like the Center has made improvements. I was here in October 2018, and I was miserable. the staff was unpleasant, and the food was terrible. I did not like my surgeon or my therapist. I had daily disputes with many of the nurses and a run-in with the head nurse. One thing- the Room with a View was great. Other than that, I would rate it C- .

This time, I rate it A+ . The Room with a View is still great (different room). The staff is friendly; the room is air-conditioned with a patio and a view, AND the food is excellent. Frankly, I think they have a new director, new Staff doctors and a different dietician. Now, granted, it could be that I have changed and have become more “French” so I have different expectations. But, I think it is more than that. Plus, last time, I did not like my surgeon. This time, I have a different surgeon. Last time, I did not like my physical therapist – arrogant man with an attitude. Ugh. This time, I like my therapist. She seems to know what she is doing. So, a lot depends on the luck of the draw. Or, maybe it is the respect for the referring surgeon – his office makes all of the reservations for their patients. Ugh. Talk about lack of control. Doctors have a lot of power in France. Maybe they have a lot of power in the U.S. But, here, it seems different. In the States, I have a better feel for things. I am in a learning curve, here. Slowly but surely.

Now, the decision is when to go home. Sooner or later. I will probably go home sooner because I want to. The better decision would be to go home later. Do more therapy. Walk more here. Let the excellent staff tend to me. As I said, I will probably go home sooner because I want to. After that, I am on my own. No medicine. No one to clean my room, no excellent therapy, no room visits by doctors and nurses. No one to take my blood pressure or temperature. No three hot excellent meals a day. Am I crazy? Well, maybe not crazy, but a tad head-strong. I miss Missy.

I miss my patio and my refrigerator. I don’t miss the heat and grocery shopping. But, all that said, I will probably go home as soon as the stitches are out. Why? Because I want to. And once I get home, I will try to remember how to walk – again!! Without a cane. At least, 40 minutes every day!! Find a good therapist. Or use the one I used before. I sort of like her. Not great. Not terrible. She could not help me. My problem before, as it was, was not fixable as it was. It is now fixed!! My legs match!! I can walk (slowly) without a cane!!

So, now on to what is next. First, lots of patience working with myself and relearning how to do the basics – walk, go out at night, go up and down steps, wear sandals, grocery shop. We are reinventing the wheel here. Going full circle. Then, once I can do basics (hopefully, six months or so), focus on moving to Paris. That is where I always wanted to be, since Day 1. Now, everyone here (in Nice), says, “Why Paris? The weather is terrible; the city has changed; you will be sorry.

Well, when I moved to Los Angeles from Gainesville, Georgia, I did not love Los Angeles. The weather was/is nice but far from perfect. The city was a mess with lots of smog (1968). The country was a mess, what with the flower children, drugs, and the Viet Nam War. I did not go there because I “liked” it. I went there because it had what I needed – I needed to get my PhD in Theatre History and I had been accepted by UCLA graduate school (one of the few graduate schools in the U.S. that had a PhD in Drama (Theatre History)) at that time. And, I held a teaching position in a branch of the University of Georgia that was a PhD position. I had to have a Ph.D. Also, I had secret aspirations of becoming an actress in professional film and television. I could either go to Los Angeles or New York. Mother did not want me moving her grandchildren to New York. It wasn’t “safe” there. As if Los Angeles were safe. Haha. NOT!! So, I moved to Los Angeles.

Why Paris? … because it has what I need. I LOVE Nice. Nice was Steve’s love. Paris has always been mine. Let’s face it. I am in the final years of my life. I cannot waste time. I still want to see, to learn, to meet people, to explore. I NEED to engage in life more before I engage in death. Steve’s unexpected death knocked the wind out of my sails. That, and two knee surgeries because of incompetence. But, it has now been four years, three years since his death. That is long enough to be in a rut. Time to make hay while the sun shines. Or something like that. I and my “mixed metaphors”. As Daddy would say, “Rough seas make good sailors.” So, while we are reinventing the wheel and going full circle here, except for unforeseen circumstances, Paris is next!!! For better or for worse. Stay tuned……

P.S. I have more pictures that I have tried to upload, but something is going on with WordPress. It won’t accept the uploads. (sigh)

BEST, JAY

Writer’s Quote Wednesday: Dorothy Thompson

This a re-blog from a post by my niece, Deb Prince Kroll. I like it and now I share it with you. Deb’s blog is http://www.unexpectedincommonhours.wordpress.com

Unexpected in common hours

American journalist and news broadcaster Dorothy Thompson (July 9, 1893 – January 30, 1961) was one of the most respected women of her time. The first woman to head a foreign news bureau of any importance, she met and interviewed Adolf Hitler in 1931, and three years later became the first journalist to be expelled from Nazi Germany. Featured on the cover of Time magazine in 1939, Thompson was declared to be, along with Eleanor Roosevelt, one of the most influential women in the U.S. In addition to writing for several publications and broadcasting for NBC radio, she authored over 20 books.

“No people ever recognize their dictator in advance. He never stands for election on the platform of dictatorship. He always represents himself as the instrument [of] the Incorporated National Will. … When our dictator turns up you can depend on it that he will be one of the…

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