Miracle of Miracles...Gettin' to the Beach at Lake Tahoe, July 2013

Ok. Living with roommates can be the pits, especially if those constant companions are Arthur and Ritis. I mean, com'on, three-digit outside heat--feels like four-digit inside my house--is no cause to get all testy, making feet and legs and other body parts of mine all swollen and painful and unsightly. Hardly recognizable as feet, is a more accurate description. I had places to go, people to see, things to do!

My first try at putting on my one pair of shoes--4-E's, wide toe depth--that usually work, proved fruitless. Maybe loosening the laces ALL the way was the answer. Nope! Drank lots of water, hoping that pee-pee-pee-ing would help. Nope! Just as the body can't be told nor relied on to lose fat in a particular spot of choice, the pee-pee-pee doesn't necessarily end up reducing the swollen condition of feet and certainly not on command!  

Shoes on all the way this try, laces flapping, lose and untied. A few minutes pass, or maybe even 10 or 15, considering that I have an extremely well-developed tolerance for pain--over more than 30 years--but despite that lengthy delay of time, the pain finally registered in my brain and off came the shoes, both of them, fast, like pulling a finger away from something hot.  The sensation of hot? That also takes a while for me to notice, given the nerve damage that those joint wreckers, Arthur and Ritis, have inflicted. But that's another story.

"Well, I've got fingers that work." Sort of, since they are not all pointing in the same direction anymore, have knobs and bumps that get pinched and caught and cut somewhat regularly. My thumbs? Oh, the thumbs are way off track! But yes, it was always a GOOD morning when I could unbend my fingers from a night's clench. And I had already successfully showered. Didn't need shoes for that! However, in my case, shoes might have provided a little protection, as I'd caught a wayward toe on the lip of the shower door frame a couple of days previous. And oh my, how that toe bled. Like a scene for a Hitchcock movie. Blood, lots of it, is a little startling on a white shower floor. I must have popped the toe that bends down, having little of the first joint left to hold it up in place--yup, another of the great works of brothers, A & R--and in the process, I'd split, torn, or cut the skin under what was once a joint.

I'm thinking of re-naming those devilish twins of disease, Ruema and Toid, but the cousin, Osteo, might feel left out, given no mention. That's another story, too.

Dressing. "I should try that" I decided, just something big, the fewer buttons or other closures, the better. And something cool, not only because of nature's heat of the day but anything that cools inflammation, even from the outside, was a good thing.

Shoes were staring up at me. "Another try?" they seemed to say. First, several tries with an ankle brace. "Yes, I know you don't like to wear this," I said. Was I really talking to my ankle and it's corset? Well, it has been said that to really help yourself when faced with health issues, you have to REALLY get to know yourself! The brace was on and had been adjusted a couple of times, an operation that was not as easy as it sounds considering my knees, one real and real damaged, the other fake. I've stopped calling it "Bionic" because it still hurts and isn't always 'there' for me when I most need it, like stepping down or stepping up, and there is sometimes conflict between the two. The socks even went on without a major cramp. Did I mention those? Down the backs of my legs, with the grip of some giant on my calves, and the feet and toes. It happens without warning. And if it happens in the feet, as it often does, the minute I try to put socks--or shoes--on, the toe on my left foot stands at attention, even doing a little back bend, just for flair, the BIG show-off, and it takes concentration and mind-over-matter relaxation to get that darn toe to lie down in place again. You know the old get-to-sleep trick of consciously relaxing each part of your body, working your way down? I take a short cut, starting at the ankles. Sometimes I can talk that toe down off its ledge of sorts.

Progress! Showered, fully dressed, shoes and socks and brace ON for keeps! Yeah, it hurt. I'm use to that. Took my cane for a walk to the car and got on with my day. Even followed a cart through the grocery store to get stuff to make Krispy Treats. It isn't the 3rd of July at Lake Tahoe without those and I intended to make and take some along to share.

It was a beautiful drive along I-80, taking the cut-off on HWY 28 I think it is, through that lovely meadowland stretching out to reach stately pines. I LOVE that drive. I LOVE the first sighting of BLUE water through the pines. A wave and a 'Hello' to the large, standing wooden bear, past the golf course, one more left turn and there we were. King's Beach, Lake Tahoe, lots of real-sand beach. And here's where it happened, the MIRACLE OF MIRACLES. After devouring four, beyond delicious pizza's at Steamers--not all by myself, I feel the need to make clear--I had time to sit outside alone, while family and friends secured a spot on the beach for our group, setting out blankets, setting up chairs. So nice to have a moment, remembering the many times we've repeated this scenario. The smell of pine, the sight and sound of water lapping at the sand, happy exchanges from locals and others, pure glee of children excited about the celebration. And then, taking an arm, with my cane in hand, both just for balance, I WALKED through the SAND, quite a distance from pavement to chair. Yes, I did! And after the last explosion of beauty slowly fell from the sky--fabulous as ever, spectacular visions of light and color shot from a huge barge anchored off the beach with a flotilla of water craft, lit up just enough to mark that they were in the area--I WALKED, again holding an arm and my cane for balance, yes, Walked along the SANDY BEACH, many, many steps, to reach the community center parking lot for the ride home. 

I'm tooting my own horn on this one. This was HUGE, for an old, arthritic Gramma! HUGE! And so delightful! Thanks, to Jenn and Tom for making it possible. Thanks to family and friends who joined us.