The Orphans Book Tour hit Saratoga Springs on a busy, icy and dark Friday night. It was the smallest crowd so far at the Northshire book store – 15 people, but a bright, loyal and interested one. Great questions, a good conversation. A light snow and ice storm hit in the early afternoon, but you never know with book tours, you can get 100 people one night and 10 the next. I appreciate the people who braved the weather to come to see and hear me, we had fun.
Red visited everyone, that boy sells a lot of books. I am learning how to talk about the visualization techniques I am writing about in my next book “Talking To Animals,” to be published by Simon & Schuster.
Tomorrow night, we go to Northshire in Manchester, Vt., next to Battenkill Books, my home bookstore, I have always feel especially comfortable there.
Another bout of weather expected. I am loving this book tour, it is very personal, surprising, informal and intimate. Everywhere – even with 15 people – I feel as if I am talking to real book lovers and readers and people who are interested in the subjects and themes I write about. People are fascinated by donkeys, few know anything about them. I talk about our view of animals in the world, and about the New York Carriage horses, and the importance of the struggle to determine their fate and future.
(I am going to the Westhampton, Mass. Public Library at 2 p.m. on February 28, 2015). If you are interested in buying a signed and personalized copy of “Saving Simon,” (and get a free tote bag and photo postcard) you can order the book from Battenkill Books online or by calling 518 677-2515. The book is turning out to be a rising Christmas gift choice, you can check out some of the early reviews here.
I graduated from cardiac rehab today, Nurse Patty Ryan gave me a certificate signed by the other patients in the group and sat down with me to discuss how I had done with my goals. She told me my echocardiagram had shown that I now had a stronger heartbeat than more than 65 per cent of all Americans. I said in August that I wanted to get through a day without crashing in exhaustion, I wanted to improve my stamina, to be focused and energetic, to live without significant pain, to walk several miles each day, to mange my medications well and confidently.
I had, she said, achieved all of my goals. My stamina has improved by more than 60 per cent she said, I am doing twice the minimum work in rehab asked of people considered healthy and in full recovery. My cholesterol is low, excellent.
This, I understand, does not mean that I do not have heart disease, it means I have made more than a full recovery from open heart surgery and am a a level of conditioning that I probably have not known for decades, if at all. I no longer life a life only of the mind, but a more integrated life of body and mind. I love the exercise I am doing, especially the walks and the aerobic work. I feel clearer, more focused and creative than I can recall. The pain from my scars and incisions is almost totally gone.
It will take enormous focus and discipline to keep and even improve upon these good results, it is so easy to slip back, I sometimes fear myself.
I have important issues to work on. My diabetes remains in flux, as happens with heart surgery, I am meeting with a specialist next week to continue my work to get it under control. Some of the medications I am taking cause pain and stiffness in my muscles and joints, I am considering alternatives, have found a chiropractor who is helping me work through the structural issues.
And I need to maintain this exercise and conditioning, for my heart and for my overall health and well-being. A very big and positive change for me, one that I would never have undertaken without the shock and challenge of open heart surgery.
Rehab was a triumph for me, an important and valuable thing to do. Patty Ryan, the nurse in charge of my rehab, was extraordinary, loving, caring, always available, helpful and understanding Her presence was something I badly needed and could not have gotten from doctors, overwhelmed with busy schedules and insurance, tests and procedures.
Today, Patty congratulated me on the good work and urged me to consider Phase 3, the next chapter, where I can drop by the rehab facility two or three times a week if I wish and work on my own schedule, without being tied to monitors, free to choose my own machines. I will consider it, I’ll try it next week, I think I would like it better than a gym, but I do want to continue my own regimen at home. She hugged and kissed me, and cried at the idea of my graduating. So did I.
Rehab and recovery are both stories of triumph and loss. Today, my friend Irene struggled to breath, had to go home, her heartbeat was irregular, she looked tired and pale. The nurses urged her to go to the emergency room, she refused to leave her 17 cats alone in the house. We worried about Irene, she should have gone to the emergency room.
Hugh, working on the treadmill, nearly fell and had to get off, he couldn’t understand what had happened to him. Roger, suffering from crippling rheumatic arthritis, has disappeared, not been seen in two weeks, Arthur stopped coming after he hit his dog on the head during a dogfight and broke three knuckles. The dog is fine. Dot is recovering from another round of surgery and will, she said, be in rehab a long time. She looked tired and sad today.
Penny, Irene and Carol are all in Phase 3 and want me (and Red) to join them there.
My surgery and recovery showed me the other side of a therapy dog – suddenly, this summer, I was the one who needed one. Red has done an amazing job for me, he transformed the experience of rehab for me and for many others, he brought light to shadows, smiles to many faces, warmth to the cold.
The rehab nurses are sponsoring a celebration holiday dinner this week and we are all going, a reunion of sorts and a celebration. We are here. For me, open heart surgery curiously turned out to be something I needed, a slap in the face perhaps, an experience powerful enough to turn me inside out and once again, alter the trajectory and nature of my life. That seems to happen to me often. I barely graduated from high school, never graduated from college.
Rehab was hard work, every day, every time. When I began, I was soaked in sweat and grimacing in pain, short of breath and disoriented. None of those things are true now.
This is the most successful class I have ever taken, the first one where I exceeded everyone’s expectations, including my own. Perhaps it was Patty. Perhaps it was Red. Perhaps it was Maria, or the friends I made in rehab. I have crossed to the other side, at least for now, filled with gratitude, pride and hope for the future. Crisis and mystery – the next chapter of my life – is just around the corner.
I have to admit, it’s a different thing and a wonderful thing to take walks with a spontaneously and irresistibly creative person. She might be drawing on a posted sign one day, sending photos of a twig to her Instagram page or erupting into dance when she sees a shadow. I asked her what gave her the idea to shadow dance and she said she had seen a movie that talked about ancient cave drawings showing humans dancing with shadows, it is, she said a natural thing for humans to do. Not most of the humans I know, thought.
It does not ever occur to me to shadow dance, I’ve joined in with Maria once or twice, but I think I don’t really have the natural moves for it. She does, it seems as natural for her as walking along the road. I love seeing shadow dancing, the dogs seem to enter into the spirit of it and they dance along with her. Sometimes I can’t help myself, and I do also.
Takeover: Minnie On The Footstool, Flo On My Chair
I’m not sure when the takeover began, it think it was when Minnie lost her leg and had to be brought inside. We insist that the barn cats go outside during the day, even when it is cold – they used to be outside all the time, and they did fine. I see that cats have a gift for insinuating themselves and taken over. Flo likes to sit on my chair, Minnie likes the footstool by the wood stove. Flo has terrorized the dogs, all three avoid her. They have a genius for sneaking in when I don’t see them, and I am often startled to look up and see that they are in their spots, soaking up the sun.
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Tonight, 6 p.m. Talk and signing, Northshire Bookstore, Saratoga Springs.
Some mornings, Maria sits with the sheep while they eat at the feeder, she talks to them and listens to them and connects with them. We both understand that food is an important part of communicating with animals, they pay attention to people who feed them, they trust them. Over time, the connection grows, communication deepens.
