Blue-Footed Musings

On February 22, I wrote about the (then) impending storm which has since become known as the Blizzard of ’26. Here’s how the storm played out for us.

• I had done well to take “before” photos of the yard, but then I neglected to take the “after” pictures. Ooops. I also wasn’t able to find an official snow total for my town. Due to drifting and the blanket of snow already on the ground, I can’t say with any certainty how much snow we got, but I think was over two feet.
• T.F. Green Airport got a record-breaking 37.9 inches.
• At one point the snow was accumulating so fast in Providence that the plows themselves started getting stuck, and the city was forced to suspended plow service for a while.
• We were fortunate in that we never lost power (not everyone was so lucky). Our cable went out in the evening, but that’s wasn’t such a bad thing. Instead of watching TV, I caught up on my reading.
• When I took the kids to their routine dentist appointments on the following Wednesday, the streets were still in a sorry state. Plowed only as far as the white lines, the roads were narrower than usual, and with the shoulders and sidewalks blocked, pedestrians were forced to walk in the middle of the road. In some places there was still snow in the road, and in others, such as certain intersections, it was piled so high that it blocked my visibility. I don’t do as much bad-weather driving these days, and those conditions made me anxious. I was quite relieved to get home safely.
• School was canceled for four whole days! After having had almost two weeks off (the previous week having been February vacation), it was a real shock to the kids’ systems to have to return on Friday.
• Today is March 8, and there’s still a significant amount of snow on the ground, but it has been steadily melting. Every day I hear the drip, drip, drip. This coming week is supposed to be warm. I wonder if it will be enough to finally melt all the snow away.

• Daylight Saving Time starts today. I hate it. I hate it a little less now than I did when the kids where small and the shift would throw our schedule off for weeks, but it’s still a nuisance. I’m already irritated because it tricked me into getting up an hour earlier this morning. Not all of our clocks automatically reset themselves to the new time, my nightstand clock among them. I would have tried to eke out another hour’s rest had I realized. Not that my shoulder would necessarily have allowed it, but I would have tried. And the kids will no doubt struggle with the earlier school start this week. Should they miss the bus, then I will be really pissed off.
• Today one of my blog’s random quotes caught my eye: “I don’t need time. What I need is a deadline.” (Duke Ellington). Ain’t that the truth? I keep trying to impose deadlines on myself, but they have no power to motivate me. Only a real deadline–one that is consequential and set by someone else–is going to have any effect on me. And sometimes not even that. I am like a boulder. It takes a lot of force to move me.

On the day of my appointment with the orthopedist, my husband had some errands to run. He took my car, promising he’d bring it back a half hour before my appointment time, which would give me enough time to get there. Ultimately he returned 25 minutes later than promised, and the look I gave him as I walked up to the car will, he said, cause him lasting trauma. And when I reached the car, I screamed at him, lashing out like the wounded animal that I am.

Luckily for him, I was in a hurry and couldn’t waste a lot of time yelling at him. And luckily for both of us, I made surprisingly good time driving across town and was only about 12 minutes late for my appointment, which was not late enough for them to send me packing. Whew!

When I got home, I found that he’d cleaned the kitchen, fixed the broken screen door, and watered the piano. I had already forgiven him when he called me on my cell phone to apologize, but I really appreciated those extra touches. He’d made a mistake, but then he made amends. You can’t ask for more than that.

But damn, he set the bar high when he did those extra things! Now we both gotta be careful not to make any mistakes. ;P

The orthopedist said that my shoulder pain is likely caused by a torn rotator cuff. Her “prescription” was a cortisone shot, which she gave me then and there, and Aleve daily for any continuing pain. She also recommended I try a topical product, such as Icy Hot. She said to come back in four weeks for a reevaluation and, if necessary, she’d send me for an MRI at that point.

After getting the shot, I accidentally fell asleep while watching TV and woke up in excruciating pain. I figured the extra pain was the shot taking its toll, so I iced my shoulder and took some Aleve. My pain returned to its usual level the following day and has not changed in the intervening week+, so I don’t think the cortisone shot worked. I called the doctor’s office and left a message asking that we move the MRI up.

Aleve, by the way, didn’t do anything for me, at least not in the quantity I was willing to take. And as for the Icy Hot, what a joke. I’d purchased the nighttime healing version, and I tried it for three nights, each time using a little more of the product, hoping it would have some effect. But each time it felt barely cool, let alone icy, and it was never hot. It also never provided any kind of pain relief. What it did do was practically burn out my nasal passages with its mentholated smell. Not recommended.

I’ve discovered, though, that if I sleep with a pillow next to me and drape my arm over it at a particular angle, I’m less likely to wake up in screaming agony. The only problem is that the pillow tends to fall off the bed, at which time I revert to my usual sleeping position and pain ensues. So, next step: figure out how to keep the pillow from falling.

Last Wednesday I went for a physical therapy session. The therapist and I agreed that, since I would be in a holding pattern until the MRI, I could continue my exercises on my own at home. That’s good and will save me a lot of money. But it also meant that I had to say good-bye to her and ask her to say good-bye to the other therapists for me. I enjoyed their company and will miss them. I should send them a card. (I probably won’t, but I really should.).

Actor James Van Der Beek died this month at age 48. He was a good-looking, talented, and seemingly decent guy, and his death strikes me as yet another example of how unfair the world is. Why should he be taken and not certain other, awful people without whom this world would be so much better off? It also strikes me as yet another indictment of this country’s healthcare system. He couldn’t afford his cancer treatments, and he ended up not only selling his Dawson’s Creek memorabilia, but also resorting to crowdfunding. That’s not how it should be. Shame on this country’s corrupt politicians, its rapacious corporations and greedy shareholders!

Van Der Beek’s hometown was, incidentally, not far from my own, making us members of the same granfalloon: a meaningless commonality that nonetheless seems important, in this case my feeling being that we came from the same place. And then there’s Eric Dane, who just died from ALS at age 53. He’s in a granfalloon with me, too. Not one of place, but of time.

I know that the lesson I ought to take from their deaths–indeed, from all deaths–is that tomorrow is never guaranteed. I am in a place mentally and emotionally where I don’t care much, if I’m being honest. Chronic pain makes gratitude difficult. But I think that if I were to be diagnosed with a terminal illness that I would probably care then and regret not having spent my time better. A terminal illness gives one a known (roughly) deadline, and deadlines are powerful. What is hard to wrap one’s mind around is the fact that the deadline is always there, whether we know it or not. To live a full life, we should assume our personal deadline is right around the corner and act accordingly.

I want to take that lesson to heart and apply it. A real zest for life is out of reach for me right now, I think. But I may be able to muster some “fake it ’til you make it” energy. I’m trying, anyway.

This is the coldest, snowiest winter we’ve had in a long time. There’s been snow on the ground for weeks (over a month, my Mom says. I haven’t been keeping track, but I’ll take her word for it). Every few days we get a little more snow. A few inches here, a dusting there. And the unusually cold temperatures have kept the snow from melting.

Today we’re preparing for a blizzard that could bring up to two feet more. In other circumstances I might be looking forward to it. I do so love a good snowstorm. But in this case I am uneasy. There are too many problems that can arise from having too much snow in the same place at the same time.

There’s nothing to be done about it, though. The weather will do whatever it wants. The only thing I can control is my level of preparedness and my attitude about the situation. So, I’ll set up my supplies of water, make sure my flashlights are handy, and so forth. And I am resolved to enjoy the storm as much as I can and to worry as little as possible. If there is no other bright side, the kids will at least be happy to have their February vacation extended by a day or two.

• When we applied for our passports, we got them almost immediately (I think it was under three weeks for all of them, even the one that took longest to arrive). It was incredible. Similarly, I renewed my car registration online on a Sunday and received the stickers by mail within the week. Wow! Is the country experiencing a red tape shortage or something?
• BTW, car registration has gotten really expensive. The fee was 10% higher than the last time. That’s a big increase. I paid it. Whatever. But every time I’m hit with a higher bill–and that’s often–I can’t help wondering how long everyone can survive this death-by-a-thousand-cuts economy.
• Livia is a teenager, and she and her friends have very teenager-y problems. She comes to me for advice. I am glad she does, but also deeply unsure of my qualifications. I know what it’s like to be a teenager, so empathy is no issue. Wisdom and maturity, however, continue to elude me.
• “English Language” was recently included on a list of the 13 college majors with the highest unemployment rates. Big surprise.
• The Great Valentine’s Debacle of 2026 involved an accidental snooze and a melted candy bar and a very big mess. Life isn’t hard enough now, it seems, and must be made worse–with chocolate. I get the irony and the humor. I just don’t particularly appreciate them at this time. Does the Universe not realize that I haven’t slept properly in months and am too tired for this ish?