Lately when I step outside, the smells and sounds of fall are in the air. The leaves on the river’s edge where I live are just barely beginning to make their transformation into breathtaking scenery. I will soon see this from my back yard. The rustling of their leaves sound different than they do on hot, summer days. Birds that were once content to chirp the day away, now have a chatter that is a bit louder than usual, as if to remind their feathered friends to get busy, it will soon be time to fly south. The crickets and grasshoppers have arrived with a chorus all their own. To me, their sound is somewhat eerie, but also reminds me that summer is coming to an end. Summer’s end not only means the season quickly changes to fall, it also means the school bell is about to ring, if it hasn’t already, for students young and old.
Recently I saw a post on face book that instantly caught my attention. It included photos of people that now reside in care facilities. Their pictures were taken as they held signs that displayed the advice they wanted to share with the students returning to school this fall. After I scrolled through them, I knew this was a project I wanted to take on. This project will be shared with our local elementary schools, via our facility website. I hope the staff and students enjoy traveling back in time as much as I have. I spent a few days last week engaging in conversation with the individuals that currently reside at the Halstad Living Center. The people I have the privilege of assisting each day are anywhere from 66 to almost 106 years old. They all have a story. They laughed and cried this week as we stirred up memories that perhaps they hadn’t thought about since they were very young. Given the chance, even the quietest of souls shared some of their past. One gentleman smirked as he said the one thing he was good at back then was skipping school. He is the same kind man that said he quit school in the 8th grade and started a wood chopping business in order to start making money for his family. As we spoke, he even shared the name of the very first girl he was smitten with. He is well into his 90’s now and his heart still remembers. Many remembered the long walks to and from school. I couldn’t help but inquire if it was indeed uphill both ways. Winter posed certain struggles as the snow just kept getting deeper each time, they told their stories. Both men and women spoke of the chores that needed to be completed before they went to school, and after they got home. It was very common for the young men (and sometimes women) to be in the barn by 4:00 AM to milk the cows, clean stalls and make sure the animals were all fed. If the wagon was taking them to school, the horses needed to be ready for hitching up. The girls often helped with things inside the house. Many but not all attended school in a one room schoolhouse. They spoke of the excitement involved with learning from the older kids, but also how sometimes there would be a “know it all” among the older kids that may have needed to be knocked down a few notches. I am quite sure by today’s standards they were the bullies! Those that experienced one room schoolhouses, also remember bringing a potato to school with them and placing it in/on the wood or coal stove upon arrival for the day. By the noon meal it was cooked to perfection. Sometimes lard was available for garnish. I wonder what the kids of today would think if we sent them out the door with a potato in hand, for their noon meal. I am quite sure there would not be received well. Not everybody had to walk to school. Many rode the bus, or had daddy take them. Some rode the family horse or pedaled their bike. Some drove themselves or got a ride with a friend. Because our age range covers 66 to soon 106. The memories were plentiful and varied, to say the least. The conversations of the week generated so many meaningful pieces of advice. As I was wrapping up the project before I left for the day on Friday there were still many talking about life from way back when. Here are some of the many “golden rules” that were shared.
I thoroughly enjoyed the week. I already love my job, but this project brought my appreciation and respect for those I am privileged to care for, to a whole new level. If only for a few days I was taken back to a place in time when things were by far more difficult than they are now, yet so much simpler. It was a time when common sense was a necessity to survive day to day life. Work hard, be honest, help your neighbor, were all part of the Golden Rules of life. To say that times have changes, is an understatement. If ever you have a moment, come and spend some time with us at the Halstad Living Center. You will be amazed with the things you can learn about others, and I am almost positive you will learn a lot about yourself as well.
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Three years ago, I was a strong, vibrant woman. I ran 5-10 miles a day, rode bike for countless hours a week, worked full time, took care of my mama, coordinated events, and volunteered more hours than I can count, all while I juggled and kept in the air the balls life threw at me. Then POOF, just like that, the life I knew, came to a screeching halt. A diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis was finally delivered. Though I had known for a long time prior to the diagnosis there was something wrong. Because of my amazing Rheumatology PA, Melissa Christenson, treatments and plans of care were already being trialed. But as per my usual medical life history, I don’t follow the text book rules. I did not make things easy for her. It is true that her willingness to dive into the deep end of the pool is why I continue to have hope. As quick as one treatment failed, she was waiting in the wings with plans B, C, D, E, F and G. She assured me that we had many treatment options and though it may be difficult to come up with one that worked for me, she would continue to do the research necessary for my best options. Meanwhile, while she held up her end of the deal, I spent much time in my head playing the “what if” and “if only” game. If any of you have played this so-called game, you know there is no winning. It made me unable to think clearly about what was to come for me. I worried about things that I really had no control over. Chronic pain and debilitating diseases have a way of not only messing with your body, they mess with your mind as well. Melissa was wise enough to recommend that I start seeing a therapist that specialized in chronic pain and debilitating disease. A few short days following her recommendations, my journey with Dr. Zielke began. For those of you that are close to me, you have herd me mention her time and time again. She has taught me many coping skills I will certainly use throughout my lifetime. I continue to see her on an as needed basis. Sometimes more frequently than others. Each time I see her she is able to help be dig a bit deeper and peel back another layer. During my journey, both Dr Zielke and Melissa Christenson have been a saving grace.
Fast forward 3 years and here I am, 58 days post, major heel reconstruction surgery. It seems this Rhuematoid Arthritis knows no boundaries. It managed to wreak havoc on yet another part of my body. The surgeon detached my Achilles tendon and repaired it, removed the inflamed bursa sac, shaved off bone spurs from my heel, and sawed a V shape out of my heel bone, making it possible to reposition said bone forward, anchoring it permanently in place by drilling a sheet rock size screw into my heel. Finally, he reattached my Achilles tendon. All of this in hopes that I would be able to resume walking. I spent the first 4 weeks total non-weight bearing. My means of mobility were a knee scooter, wheelchair or crutches. I also managed to crawl or hop from point A to point B when necessary. I followed every rule and restriction the surgeon set for me. I have been back to work (weight bearing in my cam boot) full time, for about a month. I was given a big thumbs up for pool walking and exercises, which I do about 4 times a week. Weekly physical therapy appointments will continue indefinitely, and I work about an hour each day on “homework” that continues to strengthen my foot. I have a long road ahead. If I continue to take slow and meaningful steps, I know I will get there, ONE STEP AT A TIME. Acceptance…
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AuthorCarla Torgerson - a small town girl with stories to share Archives |