odds and ends

This is likely to be my last blog post while traveling. We’re at sea today, tomorrow is a shore day at Montevideo, Uruguay. Then we return to Buenos Aires, where we’ll have a day and a half with my good friend Martin (a college friend I’ve known forever, who lives there) before starting the long journey home. So, most likely my next post will be from home, around March 3rd. Actually I’m pretty amazed that I’ve been able to use the internet as much as I have on this trip. The satellite connection on the ship has worked most days, not all, but most, even in Antarctica. Some days it was so pathetically slow, that I’d say it wasn’t really working then either. You buy a package of minutes, and then try not to be sensitive to the fact it takes 5 minutes to see if you even have email, let alone read any of it, at a price of X per minute. For the blog I’d write it first then cut and paste it in. And it’s been good. Except for the time I somehow didn’t bookmark the logoff page for the cruise network, and so when I closed my internet window the ship system kept open, and it took me half an hour to figure out how to shut it off! Just $20 of internet time down the tubes.

It’s surprised me how much I’ve enjoyed writing this blog. I hope that some people have read it, but even if no one did, or if they read about the travel but aren’t interested in the disability stuff, I’d still keep writing. I signed up for a writing workshop next October created by The Sun magazine, and located at the Esalen Institute in Monterey, and I’m really excited about it. It’s something I need to do for myself.

But enough about writing – more about the trip!

Yesterday we were in Puerto Madryn, a city in Patagonia. It’s a very dry desert like place, drier even than San Diego because all the wind blows toward the sea, so even though they are on the ocean, there’s no sea breeze or moisture in the air. The private excursion we lined up worked out well. It was a sedan car as arranged, the tour guide was knowledgeable, driver was crazy fast but seemed to be following prevailing driving practices (note that I do not say laws!) It was not a particularly exciting place, but worth a stop. We went to a beach where there were seals, playing and sleeping. Then we visited a dinosaur museum. A lot of dinosaur bones have been found in Argentina and Brazil, and this group does excavations and creates models. It was a small collection, and I admit to being spoiled by grand museums in the US, but still it was admirable. Lastly we went to a town called Gaiman, a welsh town created about 150 years ago. Without all the boring history, a group of welsh people founded this town and brought a lot of stuff from Wales and until recently have preserved a lot of their culture and customs. Things are breaking down now somewhat, but it was curious to see all these old stone buildings in Argentina. I admit I’m more taken by how people live now than looking at historical places. I note things like the tiny size of the front yards of houses – perhaps only 3 feet deep and the width of the house, since the houses are very close together. And yet, everyone will put up fences or low walls around these tiny gardens, some even with locked gates. It looks very different from what we are used to. In Buenos Aires there are really tall apartment buildings, with 2 sides of the building totally flat, windows only on the front and back sides. That’s because at any time someone could build an apartment building right next to them – sort of like apartment row houses. But often no other buildings are erected, so these skinny towers of flat sided apartment buildings are all over.

In Gaiman, we had lunch at a local parilla, and I have come to the conclusion that despite my efforts to be open minded, I don’t really like the Argentine traditional meal. It’s fatty meat, fried potatoes and salad (which is lettuce, tomato and oil and vinegar only). My biggest problem is the meat – except for the high end places like Cabana las lilas in BA, it’s uniformly tough, fatty and salty. Give me fish! Which of course was a big industry in Puerto Madryn, but no one eats it there, it’s all exported to Europe.

Pulling out of Puerto Madryn we had a group of perhaps a dozen dolphins along side the ship, they are so graceful – natural aquatic dancing, they turn and leap as a group, dark shapes against a bright blue sea. Finally we had weather warm enough for a sail away party. And later last night we had a good look at the sky again. We’ve definitely seen the Southern Cross on 2 nights – it’s a group of 4 stars, and really easy to spot. So, we sat on our veranda with glasses of port and looked at the Milky Way. So romantic.

Odds and ends – written before Puerto Madryn, 2 days ago.

The albatross are so cool. Yesterday as we pulled out of Ushuaia, it was windy, and they like the wind – so there were several of them following the ship, and we got a great look at them. The naturalist on board is also a birder, and he gave one lecture on sea birds, mostly about the albatross because it is a favorite of his (and I can see why), so now I’m an expert too! The ones we saw were black-browed albatross – white bodies with black wings that turn more white as the birds age. They live to be about 30, and when they mate around age 10 they mate for life. They fly around and around Antarctica in the Drake passage and seem to be able to fly almost indefinitely, because they are gliders and use little energy, but only if there is wind. Their wing spans are about 6 to 7 feet, not the largest of albatross, which can get up to 17 feet, but pretty impressive anyway. The wing size to body size ratio is high. They have tendons in their wings that they can lock, so that their wings stay stiff. They can drink sea water, by filtering it in their beaks and the salt leaks out these tubes along their beaks, which enables them to stay over the sea for long times. They can dive down 10 feet into the water to look for food. And they have a very good sense of smell, so can smell a dead seal from miles away, and probably that’s what draws them to the ship as well. But what’s so beautiful is watching them fly. I gather that when it’s not windy they just sit on the water and wait till the wind comes back, which isn’t long around the Drake passage. Then they lift up those big wings and let the wind catch them, and they just glide and swoop – back and forth, dipping and diving, up over around and back.

For some reason they like the back of the ship. So, once again this cabin veranda has been a pleasure. When the naturalist has his bird watching sessions he goes to Deck 10, back of the ship. We’re just 2 decks below him, so we’re seeing the same show. Today it was Giant Southern Petrels, also fun to watch. These are black birds, also with a tubular beak, but smaller. The fun thing about them though is that they come closer to the ship, and fly in groups instead of solo. At this moment I think there are about 20 of them out there playing around. It looks like playing, no way we’ll know what goes on in their little brains. The naturalist says these birds eat at night. They aren’t as impressive as the albatross – not as large, and I don’t know if their wings lock stiff, it doesn’t seem so to look at them, for they wobble more and dip and dive more. But whatever bird is flying out there is welcome, especially when I’ve been doing my stretches for my neck – it has given me something interesting to focus on, something that makes me not want to rush through to finish.

We’ve seen some other interesting birds too. I liked the blue eyed cormorant. It looks a lot like a penguin when it’s just sitting there. While on the catamaran in Ushuaia we pulled up to a rock island, and everyone got all excited – penguins! Then we noticed that some of them were taking off and flying – these were cormorants. Same rounded bodies, glossy, black backs, white fronts as penguins, but not related at all.

Food – I haven’t talked much about food, which I only realized today, and this is not like me at all. But mostly it’s because we’ve had a lot of cruise ship food, and honestly the stuff on this ship is just ok. Our excursions force us back on the ship before dinner. The food was great in Buenos Aires, not bad in Iguazu. The ship food unfortunately varies in quality from day to day. They have one little bistro of South American flavors, which we’ve been to twice. One was a Brazilian barbeque, another a small eclectic menu. But their menu doesn’t change daily, and I’m not inclined to go again. We went to the specialty restaurant twice , which is better and more like a real restaurant, but there is an extra charge, and you don’t want to eat that rich daily anyway.

But even with my complaints, I like the main dining hall more than the cafeteria upstairs. I find it hard to negotiate this cafeteria when it’s crowded. I don’t want to get others sick by handling anything that’s self serve (luckily most things are served by staff, but not all), nor do I want to catch any new bugs – which is possible when your immune system is already down. There is staff to help me, to carry my tray etc, but I don’t know what I want, need to circle around, and hate having this personal attendant following me like a shadow, in general. And then there’s the problem of getting a table, or finding Jim who’s gone to look for a table. The tables are not set up so that a wheelchair can get to all of them, not that this matters much, for usually they are full. They just don’t have enough seating at lunch time, or they don’t have enough for lunchtime when in a cold climate and no one wants to eat outside. On cold days people camp out at the window tables, often 2 people to a large table, and then they don’t leave, all day. On the Azamara ship the staff would kick people out who weren’t eating, but not on this one. On the Holland America ship the tables were set with small ones by windows, larger ones further away, and all in rows so a wheelchair can get through.

So, we’ve had dinners at the dining room and lunches at a variety of spots. Tried the dining hall for lunch one day, but it took so long. Today was warm enough they opened the pool grill. My favorite spot is the Aqua Spa buffet. It’s all cold food, supposedly healthy food – small portions of some fish or chicken or mushroom sandwich, salad bar (no dressing), fruit bar. The best dessert I’ve had was there – a panna cotta made with yogurt and mango. Another good spot to eat is the coffee café. I don’t like coffee, but in the morning they have a variety of pastries and croissants, and in the mid afternoon small sandwiches. I’m not losing weight here!

We were told that Patagonia (includes Usuaia and Puerto Madryn) has the best chocolate, so we went in search of chocolate in Ushuaia. At Laguna Negra we got some yummy hot chocolate – not sweet and milky, like most of us are used to, but a real chocolate flavor. And we bought a sampling of chocolates from their case. Most of the chocolates are layered – like a sandwich of chocolate filled with some flavoring. We picked up orange (lots of peel), mint (again think strong), raspberry and one that was white chocolate with a dulce de leche filling. They also had nut barks, so we got some hazelnut bark. Different, not overly sweet, and very yummy. My guess is that the very best food we’ll have on our trip, will be our last night in Buenos Aires, when Martin takes us out to dinner. The last time we were in BA they took us to several amazing restaurants, including one Basque one that was truly outstanding.

So the food is not great, but food isn’t the reason you take a cruise, well, it isn’t for me. Overall, I’d say this has been our best cruise- because of the itinerary. I loved Alaska, enough to do it twice, and I could even see going again. It’s more affordable, accessible, and truly beautiful. The Panama Canal I enjoyed quite a bit, the only reason I probably wouldn’t do it again, is that it’s a long trip and I’m not as crazy about all the Mexican stops. The Canal itself I’d love to go through again, can it be moved a little closer to home?

Seriously, I think this Antarctic cruise is something special. I sort of wish I could take one of the Expedition ships that go down there. These are smaller cruise ships, usually for about 200 people, and they run round trip out of Ushuaia in Argentina, or Punta Arenas in Chile. They are able to get closer to Antarctica itself. We saw a few docked in Ushuaia,and later 2 were positioned closer to Cape Horn than we could go. The big ships will round Cape Horn if that is their itinerary, but we didn’t get close because we didn’t have to. The smaller expedition cruises will dock at Antarctica so people can get out, and they carry several zodiac boats for people to get even closer to the water and icebergs. We saw several of these in Paradise Bay, and honestly it was so cold I thought those guys were crazy. No chance a playful little orca will come knock them out of the boat, right? But I think the Expedition ships could be fun, and I’m sure they get amazing views up close. I don’t think they have wheelchair accessible cabins though. But if any of you able-bodied folk are thinking about Antarctica, consider an Expedition ship. I think you’d find the experience amazing. Actually, I’d recommend anyone considering a large ship like this one too, it has been amazing. The ship isn’t perfect (food, entertainment other than the lectures, service is mixed) but the itinerary has made up for any other flaws.


Cruise notes on disability topics

I’m having a problem with my right wheel. I have a set of puncture proof wheels that I use only for travellng. They are interchangable with my regular wheel assembly, actually a set of wheels from an older chair made puncture proof. Usually I have mag wheels with grey tires and inner tubes inside filled to 50 lb pressure. I had used them the last time I was in Argentina and worried every time I went out on their sidewalks that I’d get a flat. So we are using the puncture proofs now. This is a set of spoke wheels, same type of grey tires, with thick solid rubber inserts.

I switched the 2 sets the evening before travel, and wished I had done so early enough to have a mechanic adjust my brakes and inspect them as well. I’m not sure he would have predicted the problem I’m having now, but at least he could have adjusted the brakes. My brakes work well enough unless I’m on a slope, or if the ship is rolling, but I’ll get to that in a minute. The reason I didn’t switch the 2 sets of tires earlier though, is that from experience I know that the puncture proofs don’t fit well into the chair topper over my car. So, once they are on I’m stuck at home, which makes going to the mechanic hard anyway. But mostly, I just assumed they would be fine, and didn’t worry about it.

For some reason, my right wheel is behaving as if there’s a rock or some other lump in there. Every time it goes around it has a little hump at one point. It’s really hard to put the insert into a tire, and I know that when that one was put on a little air had gotten trapped inside as well. It’s always made a squishy sort of noise. I’m not 100% sure, because on carpet it’s hard to hear, but I think the squishy noise is gone. It’s as if all the air moved to one spot and has made a lump. I don’t think I’m in any danger. It’s not like I can have a blow out with these puncture proofs. I suppose somehow it could pop out of the wheel somehow, but it still looks locked in tight. So, I’m keeping my eyes on it, and looking forward to being back on my familiar tires at home!

The brakes are another story. That was just stupidity on my part, to assume they would work fine with the puncture proofs. They don’t exert enough pressure to pinch the tire well. I don’t use the brakes much, except for during transfers, or if I’m trying to stay still on a slope while waiting for a street light to change. Jim is holding my chair steady for a lot of my transfers, so it’s not been a big deal. I get on and off the bed easy without help because there’s carpet there. The carpet adds just enough friction that these brakes are fine as they are. He helps steady the chair most in the bathroom which has a slick floor.

What’s comic though, and the time that my bad brakes are most apparent, is when I start moving when I don’t want to! The ship has been rolling ever since we left Ushuaia, about 48 hours now. It isn’t rough, pitching and turning like it was going south last week, just rolling. I think the captain called them 10 – 12 foot swells. The sea looks calm, not a lot of waves or white caps. But if you sit at the bar on Deck 5, where you can see out the windows on both sides of the ship, you’ll see out to starboard – all ocean, while at the same time out to port – all sky. Then several seconds later it’ll be the opposite. Oh, sometimes it’s less, sometimes more – once in a while we’re really down low. And if my wheels are sitting just right, I roll with the ship. My brakes aren’t doing a thing, I just scoot back and forth. I noticed it at dinner 2 nights ago, when for some reason all of a sudden the table was further away. I pushed back up to the table, set thebrakes, and a few minutes later off I went. Last night I sat more perpendicular to the table, much better. But there are a few places where I don’t have muc h choice of how to set my position – the bathroom sink for example, and of course the slick floor doesn’t help. I went to a Rosetta Stone presentation (anyone tried their programs?) and a man near me, laughing, offered me his shoes for “door stops” because I was bobbing about.

I’m sure there are a whole bunch of nautical words for different types of ocean motion, but I haven’t yet learned them. Using my own words – today the sea is rolling, calm and easy and pleasant. Yesterday in the catamaran it was pitching – the boat rocked front to back, with a bit of slam in the front each time and spray. Also, not too bad, in a roller coaster kind of way, would be tiresome for days on end. And as I mentioned earlier, people got sick. Last week, we had rolling and pitching, and on top of it the rocking was unpredictable. Luckily our waves weren’t so high, but I found it annoying, and those were the days it was scary to take a shower.

I did a body check this morning, and am in good shape! I have some small bruises on my right hip that are mostly healing from the first days on the ship, getting used to the toilet seat. There’s one on the back of my right calf turning yellow, from a car transfer in BA. Some prickly heat rash on my left ankle from wearing my UGGs when my feet were swollen. And one little bruise that I have no idea how I got, on the place on top of your foot where your foot becomes your leg – not really ankle, it’s on top. It’s the most blue, so probably recent, but I don’t know what I did. Even so, it’s not bad. The skin on my face is healing from using rough (cheap) tissues that the ship provides with my cold this past week. All in all, I’d say this trip has given me fewer injuries than usual!

My wrist is doing well. If it starts to hurt again after I get back then something I do regularly at home is the culprit – could be transfers, pushing myself, driving, cooking. At least I know it isn’t typing! I’ll just have to puzzle it out, like figuring out a tough food allergy (not the life threatening type).But maybe I’ll be lucky and the wrist pain is gone for good. My vertigo has been long gone now, though I am not so sure of this that I’d stop my stretches. It’s come and gone before.

And one more comment for anyone out there who uses catheters – anyone who is a bit squeamish, well, just quit reading. I firmly believe that we need to share info, and support each other. And I’m beginning to feel we (this is a rather grand assumption – using the word WE to mean us folks with disabilities, as if anyone else would see me as a spokesperson) need to talk more about our experiences for others to read too. We all have disabilities, we all have weaknesses, and most of us choose to keep all this stuff to ourselves. But the problem with this is that it doesn’t help get rid of squeamishness, or to broaden someone’s understanding. It’s possible that I have a reader who already thinks I’ve been open about rather personal things, maybe I have. But this next comment is one that actually feels personal to me, risky. So, here is some advice for fellow catheter users. Make sure you bring extra supplies! This morning, getting into the shower I was sitting on a chuck. Of course as I slid onto the shower seat the chuck stuck to me, not to my chair, and it was not so easy to get it out from under me. The shower seat works, but I didn’t feel terribly stable on it, still, a soggy wet chuck under you is a bad idea, so it had to go. Jim tried to pull it out from one side as I sort of lifted myself up, but it wasn’t going. So I leaned to one side, to push it towards the middle. Then I leaned to the other side, pushed it towards the middle also. Now this big ole chuck is bunched up under me in the middle, ok, asked Jim to pull it out from between my legs, as I lifted myself up. Success! He got it loose, except that somehow he also got a hold of my legbag, and pulled my catheter out too, inflated bulb and all. Oops. I should have seen that this was possible, but didn’t. And the chuck was more or less fighting us already, and so Jim just tugged harder.

Now, this isn’t as bad as it sounds. However anyone who doesn’t use catheters might be wincing with sympathetic pain. I’m sure it would hurt if I could feel pain there, but I can’t. And it’s a suprapubic catheter, which to those who haven’t heard of that term, means I have a hole punched into my stomach wall for a catheter to go through, as opposed to the usual arrangement. All the same, it’s not good for a catheter to get yanked out. It’s only the second time this has ever happened to me in the 14 years I’ve used a suprapubic.

I had my shower, might as well since I had gone to all the trouble to get in there. And afterwards got out my extra supplies and put in a fresh one. This is the first time while traveling that I’ve needed my spare catheter, and now I’m without a spare (though I did keep the old one just in case of a REAL emergency), but I’m glad I had it. I did not relish the idea of a call to the medical office explaining what happened, hoping they had a size 24 Fr catheter for me! Putting it back in was a bit scary too – now it’s really good for squeamish people to stop reading! The catheter would not go in. Just enough of a clot must have been starting to form at my bladder that I had to force the catheter though, and there was blood in my urine. This happens once in a while changing catheters, but was definitely worse today, which I assume was related to the abuse my body went through. And now, a few hours later, just a bit of blood around the stomach hole, but I’m fine. So, remember my advice, take extra supplies, and maybe even extra for the extras.

Ushuaia and Cape Horn

Hard to type much today, the sea is rolling. In the distance I can see Cape Horn, which we were cruising near about an hour ago. We didn’t go as close as the Captain would have liked because of high winds, but it was impressive all the same, rocky and forbidding. We’ve known the wind was strong all night as it howled through the crack of the window like a ghost trying to get in – very eery sounding.

Just a few words about yesterday in Ushuaia (pronounced oo-shu-eye- a). We took a catamaran ride out to a penguin colony – about 6000 Magellanic penguins and a few Gentoos. All very cute. Along the way over we also saw a colony of cormorants and some sea lions and seals. Along the way back the sea was choppy and several people, including a man at our table, were sea sick. Personally I enjoyed it. It’s as close as I’ll ever get to a roller coaster ride any more. (Most amusement parks won’t let me on rides.)

After the 6 hour catamaran ride (the ride back seemed long I have to admit, especially once people started getting sick), we walked into town – the southernmost city in the world (Fin del Mundo) for real hot chocolate and postcards. I now have about 15 postcards of penguins, so I have my day planned out!

Yesterday I had another reminder that I musn’t get any bigger! This was the only excursion that the cruiseline could set up for me, which was fine since it was the one I wanted anyway. It hadn’t been published as being accessible, but they checked and found there was a ramp available to get onto the catamaran. If my chair had been one inch wider, I don’t think it would have fit on that ramp! I have scrapes on my wheelrims to prove it. I suspect that if it hadn’t fit, then 3 men would have just hoisted me up out of my chair, perhaps without asking me first – or they would have asked in Spanish and then gone on despite my protests. And my chair, folded, would follow. On the catamaran they had nice cushy leather seats, so I transferred onto one, which I was glad I did partly because I could slide over to a window seat, and then later also because it would have been unpleasant to have been in my wheelchair while we were rolling about.

It was really sweet. There was one man, who couldn’t say a word in English, but he took it upon himself to check on me several times. He’d come around, look at me, raise his eyebrows and hand as if to say “everything ok?” Not that I’m sure how I’d tell him anything if it weren’t, but things were ok, so I’d smile and he’d be happy. When we got to the penguin rookery they turned the boat around so the flat side of the boat closest to the shore was my side, and again the same man came to the window to knock on it to tell me to look! The not-yet-seasick man at my table had just realized he had lost his camera, so all our attention was directed at that moment at jacket pockets and the floor. Jim eventually found it where it had slid, under his seat. But my kind man was reminding me of my priorities and of their accommodation. I found myself wondering if maybe he has a sister or daughter or someone he cares for who uses a wheelchair.

The Argentines, similar to the Mexicans, have their own way of handling wheelchairs. They are not concerned about being sued, or following some law somewhere. They are perfectly willing to squeeze you, hoist you etc. The cruise lines have to follow US rules, and that sometimes means they don’t know what a tour operator will or will not do. But these guys don’t care. It’s a good thing and a bad thing. Generally you’re going to be ok, but they often are so sure whatever they collectively have decided is right that your protests are drowned out in the process. For example – going up stairs they might take you up forwards, which is much harder for them, rather than backwards tilting the chair back on only the large wheels. Or going up a ramp they might go backwards and I’ll feel like I’m going to fall out. So, when you have an obstacle you are taking a bit of a risk when you get help, but generally you get where you want to go – and they won’t leave you stuck there, they help you get back too. I’m sure there will come a time when I have to shout really loud because they are about to do something really stupid, but so far I’ve not been in any danger, and I let them get on with their plans. I’m sure it rattles Jim more than me. He knows how fussy I can be when he’s pushing me. The difference is first that he’s often doing something alone and can hurt himself, whereas these other times there are as many as half a dozen men around to help. And secondly Jim understands what I’m saying,but if I tried to explain to the men here what to do the explaining would take longer than the lifting.

We’re out at sea again, docking at Puerto Madryn on Thursday, and we’re hoping to see more penguins and go to a dinosaur museum. So far – we’ve seen orcas, humpback whales, 3 species of penguin (magellanic, gentoo and chinstrap), elephant seals, sea lions, seals, lots of kelp, several species of birds – my favorite being the blue eyed cormarants which look like penguins till they fly away, and the skua which are beautiful in flight. The 2 lecturers on this ship are great. One is a naturalist and a birder, and funny to boot, and there’s a lecture today on sea birds that I look forward to. I’ve never been that interested in birds, but the ones here are beautiful to watch. They seem to soar so effortlessly, or they glide just over the water for hundreds of feet, going faster than the ship.

And I am feeling much better. Except for waking up at night with a dry throat, the pain is gone. I’m coughing, which probably doesn’t sound good, but I feel SO much better. And I’m SO grateful Jim didn’t catch this cold!

Falklands and Antarctica

As I sit here writing this note, Antarctica is slowly fading away. I say slowly because the dark volcanic mountains covered with bright white ice and snow are so huge, and so brightly lit by sunshine that we’ll be able to see them for quite some time still. The view is stupendous, and perhaps even more so from a distance, for now you can see the peaks of the tall mountains above the low clouds, and see how tall these mountains really are – even though you can no longer see the blue streaks of glacier ice, or the pink stains of the penguin poop.

The past few days have been truly unique.

Highlights:

There’s not much to see in Port Stanley in the Falklands. It’s a desolate place, all rock and scrub, 44 degrees high in summer. It rains there a lot (or snows in winter) but we were lucky and the weather was dry, though overcast. All the vehicles here are Land Rovers, and outside town the roads are all gravel, so I can only guess at what winter driving is like. 2000 people live here, which almost doubles when a cruise ship comes in. Other than tourist business, The Falklands serves as a respite for ships either about to go round Cape Horn, or returning from Cape Horn. 3 flights a week arrive here – 2 from London, 1 from Chile.

Imagine the land near San Diego’s Wild Animal Park, but much colder and put it on the ocean with lots of little pennisulas and inlets, then add clusters of little birds sitting on the water, larger birds flying low above the water, and dolphins. There are penguins too, but I didn’t go see them. It was a 4 mile walk each way, so Jim went without me. It’s desolate, cloudy and grey, but beautiful in its own way. There’s a double bay. The cruise ship docks in the outer one, and the tenders pass into the inner one to the town. Port Stanley is a narrow strip of buildings up a hillside, perhaps 4 blocks up the hill, and half a mile along the coast. The buildings are mostly painted white, and have brightly colored tin roofs, and many houses have English gardens. No trees. A cute place to visit, for a day, but hard to imagine living here. But apparently people do. Inside the restaurant where we had fish and chips for lunch was a sign for a Government House Garden and Tea Party. Ticket included entry to the tea hut, with prizes for the Most Wonderful Hat(adult) and Most Fun Hat (kids) - baskets of Government House vegetables. So, if you are free Sunday Feb 21, get those tickets now!

Antarctica Elephant Island, Gerlache Strait and Paradise Bay

Going around Elephant Island, we saw penguins in groups swimming in the water, bobbing up and down – chinstraps we think, though we’re not totally sure. In Gerlache Strait there were other penguins, but too far away to indentify. Some were in the water, some on the hillsides. Usually near their nesting places the hills are quite pink, from their waste. They eat krill, sort of a shrimp animal, and so their poop is pink. When you do see the penguins up close you would not call them the cleanest animals, and I’ve been told their homes smell rather bad as well. We saw a few birds, black and white ones – skua – but not as many species as we hoped. The big birds like the wind so they can sail without much effort, but today was not windy, so no albatross. Birds in general like the back of the boat, I suppose the fish get churned up by the boat itself, so there’s good eating when we pass. If there had been more birds I think we would have seen them. There were elephant seals floating on small icebergs or glacier bits. And we saw LOTS of whales – definitely the high point of the day around Elephant Island, where we saw humpbacks. They are huge. We saw a few groups of 7 – 12 whales, plus others in smaller groups. One or two will spout, then another, then 2 over to the side. After they spout, you see their long bodies come just over the surface, and the head goes down, eventually the tail follows. Takes about 3 seconds for each to go down. Beautiful. No whales jumping in the air, sorry folks. Best whale watching I’ve ever had. Binoculars, 8 X power, made it possible to see them for a long way. After leaving Paradise Bay we saw orcas too, which aren’t as impressive in comparison, because they are so much smaller, but they come closer to the ship.

This part of Antartica, the islands and the end of the pennisula, look simllar to Alaska. There are rocky mountains with bright blue glaciers spilling out of them. There’s ice in the water. But there are 2 significant differences (not counting penguins) – it is much colder here – 39 degrees and snowing one morning, 25 degrees further south. So, there is really nothing growing on the rocks. All the food for these animals is in the ocean. And the other difference is the shear size of every thing. The icebergs are mammoth, seriously big. It was hard to gauge the size of the mountains, because fog obscured the tops most of the time, but I’m sure they are huge. The sea seems larger too, and empty. So, think of a marriage between the upper Alps and the Alaskan glaciers.

You feel like you are far away from everywhere, despite the fact that we have had pretty regular satellite internet access, which really amazes me still. We saw one ship 2 days ago, in the distance it was impossible to tell what kind of ship it was. Today we saw a small cruise ship, an expedition type, for perhaps 200 people. They had no more than 3 lifeboats (a way to measure how many people the ship can carry from a distance, there was 1 facing us, but space for 2 total on that side, so the other side either had 1 or 2 also) It was docked at an abandoned science station in Paradise Bay. There was another science station with its own ship nearby, sort of a fishing type vessel. And there was a sailing ship in the bay as well. I bet they had a rough ride over the Drake passage! I’ll stick to larger ships. But other than that, we haven’t seen any ships since we left Buenos Aires. That’s very different from Alaska!

I’m watching my Antarctic mountain still, an hour after starting this blog entry. Ever fly out of Seattle and see Mt Rainier in the distance above the clouds? That’s what this mountain here looks like, like a huge iceberg, now floating above the clouds.

Low lights:

Cold. Snow yesterday morning, ice on the decks this morning. Wind blowing. Unpleasantly cold. Cold enough that people hang out inside in the cafeteria and forward bar at the windows, instead of outisde on the top decks, and make it hard for anyone else to get up close, or to find a table when they want to eat. This has probably affected us less than most people though, because of our wonderful large and sheltered deck. It has side walls, so you don’t feel the wind. And when travelling south, with the sun shining from the north, it was almost toasty. Overall we can’t complain though. The last sailing of this ship to the same destinations 2 weeks ago had terrible weather and hardly saw anything. We only had cold.

Another serious low light - I’m sick. It’s just a cold, but it has really made me feel miserable at times. It started about 4 days ago with a sore throat that I wasn’t even sure was a cold. The air is so dry on the ship, that I thought maybe that was the problem. But yesterday and today, ugh, scratchy throat, can’t swallow, can’t sleep – we all know the drill. It’s moved into a runny nose, and sinus cold now, so it’s less painful except for around my nostrils. I didn’t want to miss anything! But I also didn’t want to be cold. If I’d been home I’d have spent 2 days in bed. But again, this room helped out. I could stay warm till an announcement enticed me or Jim beckoned me, and then out I’d go all bundled up – skull cap, with ear muffs on top, and a hat with a visor on top of that because the sun was blinding. Sitting on a blanket wrapped all around me, with another on top of my lap. Shirt, sweater, fleece winter jacket from Maryland, scarf. I was warm enough. I think Jim was actually colder, he forgot to pack a hat.

We didn’t see as many penguins are we all hoped. The speakers have said how penguins will often hang out on floating icebergs, but none did today. They were on the shores or in the water. But we have 2 more penguin stops – Ishuaia and Puerto Madryn – coming up, where we will go to known rookeries.

more cruise notes

Feb 17, tendered ashore! 4th cruise, 1st time I’ve tendered ashore. One time I didn’t want to, another time there weren’t any tender ports. One time the mini elevator to the tender ship level was busted so I couldn’t. So, with all those no-gos, I was sure I wouldn’t be allowed to go ashore today. And I realized last night, that I was kind of afraid to go too. But it was all good! 3 men carried me down 7 steps and hoisted me and my chair over onto the tender, and off on the other side. Ditto for the way back. They acted like they do this 100 times a day, and even the few minutes I spent waiting for my turn or later watching the tenders going in and out from a higher deck, I saw at least 3 other wheelchairs going ashore as I did.
***
I’ve solved my problem with showers. Usually there’s a bit of time after you get back from a day on shore but before the ship pulls out. The ship is steady, and there’s not much to do anyway. So, if the seas are too rough for a real shower, I can at least plan for one next when we are in Ushuaia! Actually the seas haven’t been that rough since we crossed the Drake Passage, so I have had showers at other times too and I’m not feeling so scuzzy. The good news is that the fold down shower seat is pretty good. I still need Jim’s assist to transfer on and off. He steadies my wheelchair, and coming out lifts my knees, but I’d still call it independent bathing.
***
Note to anyone interested in going to the southern hemisphere, wear sun screen! Even if it’s so cold you need a winter coat, so cloudy it looks like rain, if your face is exposed for a few hours, you’ll turn red. Jim learned this the hard way yesterday. I came in earlier than he did, so I was ok, but he walked around to the penguins, and was out about 3 hours.
***
Had a frustrating talk with the Future Cruise Director. If you book ahead, you can put down a lower deposit, get about $100 a person on onboard credit, and also get a free upgrade in room class. Let’s say there are 3 levels of Concierge Class room, you book a lower one, get a higher one. But you can’t move up from the regular stateroom level to CC level, only within the same class. Except there’s only one accessible type room in each class. So, the upgrade is useless for me. I think they should have accessible rooms in each room type! Or at least acknowledge that this is unfair and give some kind of compensation. This is not a new story though, we have had the same struggle with our opera tickets. “Become a member! You can get seat upgrades!” But there’s no place better for us to go, and the seats we have are the worst in the section. To give the opera credit though, they do give us a price break and acknowledge that our seats aren’t much better than the section behind us, but there’s nothing they can do about the architecture of the building. I would have liked the Cruise Director here to have at least seen if there was something she could offer. So, we may put an open booking in, and at least get the onboard credit, but there’s no hurry. Or maybe we’ll try Princess Cruises next time!
***
This cruise we didn’t get assigned to a table for 2 for dinner. We’re at a table with one other couple, and the man uses a wheelchair. The ship put us all at this table because there’s a bit more room around it, fair enough. I don’t think the restaurant has any agendas to put all gimps together, and there are certainly more than 2 wheelchairs on this boat – so far I’ve seen 5. Nor do they do the opposite and try to spread out nationalities or races or gimps, it’s a convenience issue. (Well, I have heard they put a group of 10 Germans together, so maybe they do have an agenda? ) No matter, I have no objection though, I have good friends who use wheelchairs! But this couple is interesting for reasons you wouldn’t expect. They are from California, both school teachers, one ex school teacher and one soon to retire teacher. And they are some of those people who have taken 30 cruises, including this itinerary already. They return to their favorites – Alaska, Hawaii – over and over.

This however, is their first one with him in a wheelchair, and he’s been a para a total of a week! Well, now 2 weeks I guess, since we’ve been on this ship for a week. He doesn’t call himself a para though, because he can still move his legs some, but he can’t stand or walk, so I’m calling him a para. I can’t believe they still came on this trip. I can’t understand why he isn’t in rehab. I can’t imagine he’s overall having a good time, but when I’ve seen him he seems happy enough. It’s all very weird. First of all, the docs don’t know why he can’t stand anymore, something about pinched nerves on his spine, I think they referred to spinal stenosis. But he was told that he could get use back just as suddenly as it left. He’s a big guy, probably about 300-325 pounds, my guess, and he uses a super wide chair. He didn’t have time to get a sturdy one made for full time use like mine, it’s more like an airport or ship chair, though it is his own. They didn’t have an accessible cabin reserved, and since none was available, they are in a regular cabin. Of course the chair can’t go through the door, so the ship gave them a desk type chair on wheels that sits in the cabin, and somehow they get him off the wheelchair and onto the desk chair so he can go around his room. His wife has to push him around inside, and I suspect she’s pushing him everywhere outside in the wheelchair too. I doubt he’s independent at all. He can’t get into the bathroom, so hasn’t had a shower, and they’ve had to be creative about other bathroom tasks.
They said how much they admire me for travelling with the wheelchair, but I can’t imagine I’m having half their problems. Some part of me wonders what in the world they were thinking? Did they have no clue how hard it would be? The woman talks of how she used to travel with a cousin who was paralyzed from polio, so she thought she had some idea. But this has got to be harder. They talked about how hard it is to get him dressed, so they aren’t doing formal nights. I think getting him to the regular dining room is his one outing of the day. The rest of the time he mostly stays in the room. Though they did say that even before they spent a lot of time in the room, which is also something I don’t really understand. Going around Elephant Island, the best viewing was on the starboard side, or like us from the back cabins, and their cabin was on the port side – did he see anything? Apparently they went up to the deck 10 for viewing yesterday at Elephant Island. I hope they did today for Paradise Bay also. We found this out at dinner yesterday.

They had neglected to buy trip insurance, and since the disability came on so suddenly, and last minute, they decided to come anyway. Otherwise they’d lose a lot of money. But I’d like to know - what has their medical care been like? Did no one suggest he get some OT at least? It sounds like when they get back they’ll start some serious PT and OT, but they thought it could wait. If I’d been his doctor I’d have seriously encouraged them to not take a trip now, but it’s possible he/she didn’t even know he was traveling. Still, if I’d been in their place – I’d have cancelled my trip, with or without trip insurance. I think they’ve learned something though. They were to go to a wedding in Texas in a couple of weeks, and they’ve just emailed their daughter to cancel those travel plans. He’s not ready for travel yet, got some work to do first. It’s not easy to travel with a disabilty, it takes planning, and it’s even harder when you don’t have the infrastructure set up to your advantage.
***
It happened again. Our waiter in the high end restaurant on the ship last night asked me if I had been on the Summit (another Celebrity ship) a couple of years ago. He remembered being my waiter then. Didn’t remember Jim, just me. That was about 3 years ago. He’s worked Celebrity for 11 years – how many faces has he seen in all that time? It must be my charm!

Cruise notes

Feb 15 Cruise ship notes:

We picked a great room this time. Ship’s not bad either. For anyone curious enough, you can look for cabin 8176 on Celebrity Infinity on their website. This is our fourth cruise, and we’ve had different kinds of rooms each time – so far I like this best. What we have is a Concierge Class room at the back of the ship. It’s a bit larger than a regular veranda room, and I appreciate the space. The veranda is really large, and I’d appreciate it more if I could get out there myself. But it really is the first time we’ve had a balcony that works at all for me. Usually they are too small. Not that I’ve had that much experience with balconies – this is our third. So many of the people on this ship have taken 30 – 40 cruises, that we feel like newbies.

But what’s really cool about the balcony is that it’s well protected – from wind and from light. At this moment it’s pretty breezy and cool up on decks 10 and 11 outside, but on our deck, not only is it quiet and not smelling of chlorine, it’s warm and just a slight breeze. So what if I’m a little antisocial.

Last night we were out on our veranda, looking at the stars. It’s been a long time since I could see the Milky Way. Not counting planetarium shows, I can’t remember when I last could see it, I’m guessing I was a teenager at summer camp. I’m pretty sure we couldn’t see it from any of our other cruises, and I’m sure the main reason we can now, is this great balcony. There are very few lights around the back of the ship, just a couple of dim ones from rooms down the hall. We could see thousands of stars. Jim thinks he could see Orion’s belt, but neither of us know our constellations well, so right now we aren’t sure. There in the east was a really red shining “star” – perhaps it was Mars? Since our room is at the back of the ship, we’re now facing north. I wanted to know if we could see the Southern Cross, so we went up to deck 11 to the outdoor deck that circles the ship, but there are so many lights up there we couldn’t even see the Milky Way! And that’s why I suspect we didn’t see it before on any other cruises, didn’t have the right balcony. Hopefully, when we return going north, then this room will face south, so I’ll see the Southern Cross then.

About an hour ago I stopped at the Concierge desk and asked if there was something they could do about the high step to get outside onto our veranda, and as I’ve been typing some men came in to measure for a ramp. I have to admit I’m impressed. It still might be hard for me to get out alone, but this step is so bad it’s been hard for Jim to even push me over it because it sort of has 2 mini steps and the wheels get caught. He has to treat it like a curb going out, and we’ve found going backwards to go inside works best. Perhaps this will change. I’d like to be out there on my own power, not having to wait for Jim to come back to assist me.
There are bumps around the ship in places – usually in the entryways to cabin sections. I suppose there are doors there that can be sealed if necessary. And there are bumps getting out onto the outer decks, also where there are doors. A couple of these doors are automatic, near the pool area, which is really nice! But most I can manage. I have this little mental map of the ship that is sortof like, “deck 11 aft has impossible door, avoid!” If I want to go to the bar at deck 11 forward (nice view) I’ll go to 5 or 10 and go to the front elevator bank and then go up.

Overall, I’m pleased. After the craziness of the last cruise – Azamara Journey – this ship is great! Without too many details, let’s just say that Azamara’s ships are old, and I couldn’t get outside anywhere without the assistance of 2 people. There were other problems too.

There’s a professor here from Minnesota who is giving lectures on Antarctica on every at sea day, and he’s good. Another lecturer this afternoon on South America. The food is ok, and there’s plenty of variety. We’re happy, but honestly it’s our veranda that is going to make this cruise special. I think it’s about 12 feet by 15 feet.

Maybe we’ll find out why these rooms at the back are less popular when the sea gets choppy. I am not sure exactly why they chose this room (maybe it is the balcony, maybe they weren’t selling well?), but they relabeled certain rooms Concierge Class, and upgraded service to include flowers and fruit in the room, and I think slightly better bedding and bathrobes, or something like that. It isn’t much different from a regular veranda room otherwise. There isn’t a real butler like the Sky Suite rooms, not that we found the Butler that useful the one time we had a Sky Suite. CC class is a little more money, but not as much as a suite, and the veranda is worth it. OK, enough praise about the veranda, right? Time to go to the South America lecture.

Feb 16 – Rocking and Rolling:
I’m not talking about music, the ship is rocking and rolling. It’s not as rough as the day we came out of the Panama Canal, which had 15 ft waves, but way rockier than anything on the Alaska cruise. I’m guessing what we have now is 8 - 10 ft ones. But they have been pretty constant for the past 24 hours, and I doubt they are going to let up anytime soon. These are South Atlantic seas, and none of the staff seemed the least concerned. The lecturer we heard yesterday talked about how the seas are most rough when we cross fromt the South American tectonic plate over to the Antarctic one, which I assume will be the day after the Falklands (tomorrow we visit there) and again 3 days later when we head back to Ushuaia.

I kind of like the rolling though, especially when I’m lying down on the bed. It’s sort of like being in a hammock that some kid is jerking around, but not unpleasant. Sometimes you roll side to side, sometimes head to toe. It makes walking and wheeling, and a few other things a little trickier though. Pouring water into a glass can be messy. Photos aren’t always of what you intended. I’ve suspended doing any needlework because it’s too easy to make mistakes. Please excuse any typos as well.

And I’ll wait till calmer waters for a shower. I can wash up, even my hair, in the sink for now. Somehow doing a transfer off the shower seat while wet and slippery doesn’t appeal to me. On and of the toilet is bad enough, but here I’m glad I have the convenience of a catheter. It means I only have to get on the toilet once a day. The good news is that both the shower seat and toilet seat are sturdy, so if I really had to be on there a lot, I could do it. And Jim is helping by steadying my chair. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve reached down to put the brakes on my chair to discover they are already on.

Not much happening today – a lecture on Wildlife of Antarctica, and High Tea for Concierge guests – a perk we didn’t expect, but wil enjoy. They had High Teas on the last ship we were on, and usually they have the string quartet playing (or on the last ship the harpist sometimes, but no harp on this ship). Everyone is looking forward to tomorrow, but awaiting word whether we’ll be able to go ashore there. Apparently a large percentage of cruise ships can’t put passengers ashore because it’s a tender port and the winds can be fierce if they come from the wrong direction.

Before I forget – the handyman built 2 perfect ramps for me to get out onto the veranda. One is about 2 feet long in the room, where the step is highest, and nice and smooth. Then there’s and 8 inch one outside. It’s a little steeper, but because it’s so short it works. So, now all I need are calmer seasl, and I’ll go out! Actually I have used them already some, but it is a bit rough at the moment.

tango

I love the tango! We saw this great show last night - 8 dancers, 2 singers, 5 musicians including 2 accordians. It was beautiful. Of course it didn't hurt that the restaurant kept refilling both our champagne and malbec glasses at the same time for the whole evening. But even without the extra stimulation, I think I'd love the tango. Something about the music and singing makes me wish I could speak Spanish. Again. Everytime I go to a Spanish speaking country I come back wanting to learn, and then with time the motivation dies. It amazes me that I remember any of my high school Spanish at all. And oh, I wish I could dance the tango too! There's no way my wheelchair dancing classes could teach me anything like what I saw, but as Jim and another person I was talking to remind me, not many people can dance like that either. It looks like such fun.

All was smooth going too. Google Rojo Tango in Buenos Aires, and you'll see that it's a show at a very posh hotel that there was no way we'd want to spend the kind of money required to stay there. But the show is worth it. As part of the service they pick up any diner that wants a ride, wherever they are staying, in their fleet of Mercedes cars. And Mercedes cars here are really really a luxury. The only glitch for the evening, which was more amusing than a real problem, was that there was a ramp down from the entrance into the dining area. And they had put a table right at the foot of the ramp. Everyone else went down the steps just to the side. They had to move a couple of diners to get me through.

Argentina #2

We're in BA one more night, and get on the cruise ship tomorrow. In about half an hour we are getting picked up to go to a dinner tango show. We went to one 2 years ago, and it was a lot of fun, beautiful dancing, and decent food.

It's hot here, probably mid 80s. The day today reminded me of summer on the East Coast. The sky is grey, wind blowing, air muggy, and you know it is going to rain soon - most probably tonight. They predict all day tomorrow. I'll welcome it.

We slept late today, because we didn't get in till after 1. We had dinner with my 2 second cousins and their spouses and mother. It was a nice evening of lively chatter. 3 of the 5 relatives speak English, which helped!

I have to talk about what happened at the airport when we arrived though. Our ride, so carefully arranged, was not there. Our flight was early actually, so we waited at baggage claim till the time our flight was supposed to arrive, about half an hour. Then tried to use a pay phone to call the hotel, but it wouldn't recognize my credit card as payment. Hard to know exactly what the phone wanted, since everything was in Spanish, but I am guessing it wanted a phone card. A woman at the information booth was kind and called the hotel for us, and we were told to stay put, someone would come get us.

The man who showed up took one look at my chair and said NO and then a bunch of stuff we couldn't understand. He couldn't take my chair. It wasn't the arrangement we set up at all. To make a long story short. We were at the airport 1 1/2 hours, ended up taking 2 cars, when we really could have fit in one, and we were both really frustrated and annoyed. We got here ok, but should have followed our instincts and tried a Radio Cab, supposedly a risk here to take taxis. Mostly a risk you'll get ripped off, not hurt. Something broke down in the communication between hotel concierge - car service company - drivers and I have no idea where the fault lies. It might have been something like the driver who was assigned to come got a better offer. I suspect though that we were just totally forgotten, so when we called they sent whoever was closest without regard to the chair. The driver seemed surprised. But the most annoying part was that in the end we could have been in one car. I sat up front. Suitcases in the trunk. The first driver wanted Jim to go in back, and then the other car would have only my wheelchair. But there's no way I'd go that way! I'm not leaving my chair behind, and worry I'd never see it again! I barely trusted that these were really the drivers sent for us after all - they were like unmarked radio cabs, not the usual limo like drivers dressed in suits. My wheelchair ended up in the backseat of the other car, with Jim sitting next to it, and the backseat of my car was totally empty. In the end Jim's conclusion was that the one driver who was not allowing us to try out our own solution in my car and insisting he take the chair, was simply not willing to let anyone sit up front since he had a lot of junk - and since he was the first one at the airport - my conclusion is that he didn't want to give his fare up to the other driver - and was expecting they would both get paid.

I probably haven't said this very clearly, which I'm not going to fret about. The situation was even more confusing than I'm saying - for as I said it took well over an hour to resolve, with multiple translations going on. I felt bad for the information lady who was caught in the middle.

Overall no harm done. And today - I double checked with the concierge about both the time and type of car for our last arranged trip tomorrow to the cruise ship. Looks good.

Maybe sometime I'll write more about how other people often seem to know what is better for me, and assume I'm an idiot. They often will insist on helping, when actually what they do causes more problems. But not today, time to tango.

Argentina #1

It’s the fourth day of our vacation, and this is really the first chance I’ve had to write much. The first day was all travel, and though I did have time on the plane to write, what was there to say? The second day we arrived in Buenos Aires, tired and travel stained. It was 24 hours door to door, and I don’t sleep well the night before travel, or on a plane, even though we were first class because we couldn’t get business class, and neither of us wanted coach for an 11 hour flight.
So, we spent the second day getting used to the time change, and the Argentine way of life. We went out for a long walk around the Puerto Madero and Microcentro, bought me a new handbag of printed leather to match the shoes I have from our trip here 2 years ago. And bought some interesting Argentine wine to take on the cruise – a bottle of dessert port style wine (who knew they made this here?) and a sauvignon blanc. We also bought a couple of splits of Argentine sparkling wine which weren’t bad, but Napa and France needn’t worry about competition yet. Dinner at a lovely Italian place at 8 PM, which is early for Argentines. And then we crashed.
The third day was travel again. Iguazu isn’t really far, about a 2 hour flight, but we let ourselves sleep in, and had to get the ride to the airport by noon for the 2 PM flight. By the time we arrived at the hotel in Iguazu and got organized it was too late to really see much of the park. We didn’t realize they close the park at 6 PM, one hour before sunset. So, we sat on the restaurant terrace and had drinks and dinner while looking at the falls in the distance and watching the sunlight fade away. Not bad. I suppose I could have written something last night, but I still hadn’t seen the falls!

Today, wow, Iguazu Falls. We got up early so we could be on the trails of the park when it opened at 8, and I’m really glad we did. It is so much cooler earlier. I’m guessing that around 8 AM it was in the high 70s or low 80s, but today was overcast which helped too. By noon when we came back it was probably 90 if not warmer, and sunny, and humid. HOT! I was glad I bought a long sleeve shirt from Pacific Sunwear on a whim one day a year ago. I’m sure that to other people I looked odd in my peach long sleeve shirt, thin grey linen pants,huaraches, what look like stocking socks (really support hose) and my black biker gloves, but I didn’t care. If you looked closely you could probably tell I wasn’t wearing a bra either. But damned if I was going to let heat send me back to the hotel before I was ready, and everything I wore or didn’t wear was in the interest of being cool. Most paras I know, like myself, don’t really sweat – we swell. And if we’re in the heat, even covered up and in the shade, we’l l turn red like a burn. The shirt was quite thin, and loose, and perfect. And my bikers gloves are the coolest I own that still have leather palms, which is a requirement especially when wet.

When you think of Iguazu (pronounced with an accent on the ZU) Falls, it might be best to compare it to the Grand Canyon. It’s a huge natural phenomenon, that you really can’t see all in one view. You need to allow a full day or two, and expect to do some walking to get to the views. I really had no idea what to expect in terms of access, but was delighted that the 2 best walks (out of 3 main ones) were totally accessible. And what views!, so hard to describe. Supposedly 275 individual falls. 2 rivers come together and then just drop off a jagged edge rock cliff, the key word being jagged, though they are mostly flat on top. So sometimes there are a lot of little falls all together, sometimes a large one alone or with side falls that end up crashing together below. Some of the rocks on the cliff edge stick up, so water doesn’t go over them, and then they might be bright green with vegetation, like all the other plants anywhere near the falls. Near the Devil’s Throat Falls, which is the largest, the mist rises up over all the sightseers and bathes the plants with moisture. Butterflies abound, all colors and sizes. I ended up buying a butterfly book from the hotel lobby shop because we just couldn’t get good photos of them – bright red, black with red tips, brown and white swirls, red and white with figure 88 on their undersides, my favorite – a large light blue and brown one that likes the sunlight. One landed on Jim’s nose, but I wasn’t fast enough getting my camera out. We saw a lot of birds too, but not as close up. Only one toucan. Lots of animals called coati, a sort of raccoon sized animal, with a striped tail and a little pointy snout nose. Very very tame, walked around people as if they didn’t matter.

By noon though I was ready to get back to cool air. My thighs, shoulders and cheek bones had turned pink, and my feet were swollen. I headed up to the 65 degree room (the AC has 2 settings ON and OFF) for a wet washcloth to cool down. Jim went out to see that other walk that had stairs. There are other things to do here, and we saw a couple of them – a jungle walk, the visitor center. There are shops too, but very touristy stuff. Besides we really only brought one suitcase here, and left the rest at the BA hotel, so there isn’t much room for more now. There’s a boat ride under the falls, that isn’t accessible, for it docks down below from the walk with the stairs. Jim didn’t really want to take it anyway. Someone said their main objective was to get everyone soaked under the falls. There’s a truck ride through the jungle, and a zipline - forget that! Despite what we couldn’t see, I feel I really have seen it all. In fact most of the other activities seem more like ways to try to catch more of the tourist money, and tourists buy into it because it took so much time to get here. I think most Argentines come by overnight 12 hour bus rides from BA.
Tomorrow we’ll have time for a walk on the Superior Circuit again, a shower and then back to BA and dinner with my cousin. Another late dinner, this time 9 PM. I probably won’t write again till I’m on the ship on Sunday.

Generally speaking all my planning has paid off, and things are going smoothly. Or perhaps I should say they are within limits of my tolerance, which is not to say all has been easy. Keeping in mind that this blog is mainly about my life as a paraplegic, I have to say a few things. I suppose this will sound like complaining,but I intend it to be a list of all the adjustments we’ve made so far.

I could not possibly take this vacation alone. At every turn I needed an able bodied assistant in one way or another. But, with the assistance of one person, it’s been doable.
To start with, Buenos Aires. The sidewalks are terrible, choppy and full of glass. Curbcuts exist but are really just dips in the curb height, so that there is still a 2 or 3 inch curb at the bottom. In Puerto Madero, the newest part of town where we are staying, many sidewalks are cobble stones, or have strips of cobbles. They look sweet, but after a while the bumping gets to you. Last time we were here I didn’t have my puncture proof back tires, and was sure I’d get a flat tire, but didn’t. All the same, I didn’t make the same mistake again. But unfortunately puncture proof tires give a rougher ride. The frog’s legs shock obsorbers on the front tires actually make things worse. Plus by the end of the day Jim’s wrists were bugging him from all the wheelies he had to pop me up. Buenos Aires has wonderful food, lovely people, interesting attractions and music… lousy sidewalks.

I lined up 6 rides altogether – International BA airport to hotel, hotel to Domestic airport, Iguazu airport to hotel and back again etc. So far I have had 3 and they were all ok, but tomorrow’s will be tough. The BA cars are all easy, Toyota Corollas, but the Iguazu car is an MPV – a Chevy Meriva. The seat is a bit high, which was ok at the airport because the driver parked close to the curb. But here at the hotel there is no curb, so I don’t know yet how I’m going to get in, but we’ll do it somehow.
Showers have been tricky. I brought a portable shower chair that I haven’t used, because it is too wide for these tubs. Luckily the hotels have both had a bench shower seat that has worked out, in a fashion. The one in BA has the arm on the wrong side, and the seat back positioned out of the tub. I had to face backwards In the tub to make it work, which meant Jim was managing the controls. The bathroom flooded, which happened even when Jim showered, but was worse with me. It clearly happens a lot, there is a drain outside the tub in the floor. Stupid tub design with water running down the wall going outside the tub on some tile that ran all over. The Iguazu hotel bench seat is better. You have to ask for these seats though, they don’t put them in the room before you get there. But good as they are, these seats are still not like home, and I think Jim’s had 4 showers for each one of mine. He sweats more, yes, but also I put off my showers as long as I can. I’ll take one every 2 days, he takes 2 a day here.

Toilets have been tricky too. Minimal grab bar at the hotel In BA, and a low toilet in Iguazu, though they do have a nice fold down bar. The best bathroom I have been in, in a long time (not counting my own at home of course) was one at the Domestic BA airport – high seat, double fold down long bars, sink with a space to rest your arms, and even a grab bar at the sink! Not every bathroom is hard to use, you just don’t know when and where you’ll find the good ones.
Beds are too high, not that this is new. I think this is the new pet peeve for wheelchair users who transfer themselves – these new deluxe beds with fat mattresses that make climbing into bed impossible without help.

The LAN airline people moved me to the bulkhead row, to be nice, you know, so I’d be closer to the front! I still needed the aisle chair to go 5 feet, why don’t they make those bulk head dividers just a bit wider? Who would it hurt? But the bulkhead row arm didn’t go up, so they had to lift me over, which was more work for them. I’m hoping on the way back to have someone who speaks English to ask them not to be so nice this time.
I can barely get through the room door at the Iguazu hotel, thank goodness my chair isn’t an inch wider! So, it’s a reminder to me to not let myself get any bigger, and to not get a wider chair when I buy a new one. This one has a 17 inch wide seat. This was something I would not have anticipated, so I feel lucky.

And I’ve only worried about pressure sores twice! The first time was at the end of the second day, or better put as the first day in BA.On the flight coming down, I just couldn’t get off my butt totally. I tried to get on my side, but it was really hard. Even though it went flat, the seat was so narrow, and once I got myself lowered down it was hard to pull back up again or to move. I’d change the pressure on my bottom every so often by changing position and shift my weight, but I never totally got off it. Then, after we got to BA, and I still hadn’t really laid down, we went out for that walk. I didn’t really think about all the cobbles till we were moving over them, as a problem for my rear end. But by the end of that day, I was glad to get onto the bed. Skin was ok.
Then today, I worried again. I said that the walks were accessible, but that doesn’t mean they were smooth and flat. No stairs, and not very hilly. But, the walks out over marsh and some falls, to get to the best viewpoints, were made of metal grating panels that were about 2 feet wide, attached together with seams that essentially were bumps. With each bump my feet would slowly start bouncing toward the front edge of the foot pedals. About 24 bumps and they would pop off. I’d pull my feet back again. This wouldn’t have been so bad, except that we’re talking about a 30 min walk in and out again, and 2 different walks. I think I got bumped about 2 hours today. And with each bump I felt my ischials digging into the seat cushion. I’m just glad I brought a good cushion. I considered bringing one that’s lighter, but not as much padding. Between the bumping, and the heat, and the hard low toilet, I am still a little concerned about my skin, but I think it’s ok. I’ll have a better idea tomorrow. I could say something here about the wisdom of going braless over these bumps, but this is where perhaps the combination of being small breasted and having not much sensation in my breasts because of being a para, is an advantage!
I could mention a few more little things – couldn’t reach stuff for example – but at some point it starts to be picky. You have to draw the line somewhere. The good news? My wrist feels great, so I guess this is a rest. When I get back I’ll have to figure out what exactly is straining it – pushing myself? Driving? Transfers? Because I’m certainly using it now for hanging on while going over bumpy surfaces. No bruises, which means that even if I have had tricky transfers, Jim is helping me well. Getting off a low toilet I often get a bruise as I cross the wheel brake. I feel good!

I will end with an explanation of what happened with my last short post. The Iguazu hotel has free internet access. But the wireless in the room wouldn’t connect. So, I went to their business center. They have 5 computers at bar height, with bar stools, and 2 on tables. One table computer was being used, so I went to the other. I spent about 20 minutes trying to get that computer to switch to English, and to connect to the hotel system. I finally gave up. Then I tried using a bar computer, thinking I could just lower the keyboard down to my lap. But the cord wasn’t really long enough, so I managed to slowly check email with a dangling key board, until I saw someone who worked here to ask them if they knew how to get the table one started. He only spoke Spanish, so he fetched someone else, who also spent 20 minutes and gave up. By then the other table computer was free, so I started using it. Not as easy as it seemed. For some reason gmail displayed a combination of English and Spanish, and seemed to think I wanted to report some abuse. And I’m a pretty good typist, don’t have to look at the keys, which in some ways was frustrating. The spanish keyboard has the letters in the same places, but all the extra keys are different, and some use an ALT GR key to get what you want, but no instructions about this, it was trial and error to figure it out. Hey, could have been worse, could have been Arabic or something. But all the same, I decided I was better off using my little Netbook. I now have a cable in the room to hook up to the network, and can cut and paste off Word easier.

Gah! This is annoying! They gave us a late checkout of 2 PM, since we aren’t flying out till almost 4. But they didn’t extend our free interent past the usual checkout of 10 AM, so I missed my chance to upload this to my blog! I wrote it last night, thought I had lots of time to kill this morning after a walk and a shower, and I missed my chance. I can’t imagine anyone is going to suffer much if I wait another day, but it is annoying. I have a new respect for Stephen and Alia, and Stephanie who were so good about their blogs while traveling.
So, I guess I’ll write this PS – a short note about Friday morning. Skin is good! Again we got up early for a walk from 8 – 9 AM. That is definitely the best time to get out there. The hotel folk have an advantage over the people who are staying outside the park, because you can get in before the crowd. And today we saw more birds, and monkeys! It was good to do the same trail twice. The first time we focused so much at the water. The second time we looked up at the trees as well. There were several monkeys in one tree eating the fruit, and jumping from branch to branch. A beautiful place.

Iguazu Falls

I can´t post much now, but will say at least this much - Iguazu Falls is amazing and beautiful, and so far it seems that my planning has paid off - things are going pretty smooth. About the falls - think hot, sticky, water water water, hundreds of butterflies and not just a few bugs also, and coati!

My Story

Today is the 37^th anniversary of the day I was shot. And so, it seemed fitting for me to write about it. Usually I spend this day alone. I don’t like to make appointments or do chores, or run errands. I don’t really like to get together with friends, though I’m more inclined to bend this rule than anything that seems like work. Usually I prefer to stay home, but spend the time on things I like to do, like reading. I’m introverted, INTF on the Myers Briggs test, and I recharge my batteries with time alone. It’s a day of reflection for me, not something to celebrate like a birthday. It’s more like the anniversary of the date someone died, something you note and can’t forget, but not necessarily something you share. I rarely mention it to anyone. I don’t cry or get emotional, I just don’t feel like being social. Well, and I want to pamper myself, just a little.

About a week ago, it occurred to me that I could write about what happened, that the topic was a good one for my blog. And so many nights this week as I’ve been trying to fall asleep, I’d think about what to say, and how to say it. And by today I found I was excited and happy about the idea. I must still have some pent up emotion related to being a victim of someone else’s stupidity or dysfunctional personality or whatever made them turn to crime. And the idea of writing, the happy feeling about writing, lifted my mood – so that for the first time that I can remember, I was looking forward to this anniversary. Funny thing.

I have told this story more times than I can remember, and I often forget who I’ve told and who I haven’t. Almost everyone wants to know why I’m in a wheelchair, but most hesitate to ask. I think they have a combination of fear that they’ll bring up some uncomfortable subject for me, perhaps a sense that I don’t want to talk about something, and a little bit of a fear that I’ll bring up an uncomfortable subject for them. But actually I’m ok with telling my story, though perhaps not ok with talking about all the peculiarities of being a paraplegic. But I’m ok with setting boundaries, and if someone were to ask something too personal, I will decline to answer. Most of the time I probably appear to not want to talk about my history, because it’s not a top issue on my mind, and I forget who I’ve told, so I assume everyone knows.

Today I find that February 5, 1973 is on my mind. It’s a nice quiet evening, raining outside, and Jim went to chess club. My cats are sleeping, and I have a glass of wine at hand. This is my story:

I grew up in Philadelphia, West Mt Airy actually, which is a community in the northwest part of the city. At that time, my parents didn’t think the public schools were very good, so decided to send me and my 2 siblings to private Quaker schools. Starting in Grade 3, I went to a school downtown, and every morning my father, my brother, Ben, (in Kindergarten then) and I would take the train into Suburban station downtown, and then walk over to school. I loved Friends’ Select, and 2 years later my sister, Johanna, joined us there in Kindergarten. The next year, her 1^st grade year did not go well for her. She wasn’t learning well, for whatever reason. The details are not important, other than that whatever happened that year, caused our relocation to other schools the following year. It probably looks like I blame Johanna or my parents for the change – for at that time I certainly did. But it was only that I loved where I was, and didn’t want to go. We transferred to 2 side by side schools in Chestnut Hill – one for girls, one for boys.

The schools are not important, but their locations are. I had learned young to love downtown, and from the day I switched schools I wanted to be allowed to go downtown on my own. At the age of 12 I thought of myself as a city girl. I went to summer classes at the Art Museum and the Franklin Institute, and loved the rocks at the Natural History Museum. And taking the train to town every day when I was younger, made me feel like I could get around, and knew where I was going. So, I kept seeing my dentist who happened to be in town, and when it came time to get braces, I went to an orthodontist he recommended – also downtown.

For about 2 years I would go into town, by train, alone, after school once a month to see the orthodontist to get my braces adjusted. I took the train home regularly every day after school anyway, trains were still a big part of my life. And I enjoyed my friends who also took the trains home. On the orthodontist days, sometimes my best friend, Judy, would go into town with me. If I had to leave early she might cut study hall to join me. Or I’d take the train earlier, and she’d catch up with me later after my appointment. We’d go shopping, or hang around the skating rink. Sometimes we’d gather up the courage to go to where the hippies hung out on Sansome St, it was the early 70s after all. My pattern was to swing by my father’s office to drop off my books, then see the orthodontist, then have an hour or so for shopping or walking around town, and then catch a ride home with Dad later. My mother worked in town too, but she was way on the other side of town, whereas my father’s office was one block from the orthodontist.

On Monday, February 5, 1973 I had an orthodontist appointment. I left school early, and took the train alone into town. I was wearing a bright green hip length ski parka, no hood, and my school uniform – navy plaid pleated wool kilt, and either white or yellow shirt, yellow or navy sweater and socks, brown shoes. It wasn’t particularly cold, but it was winter, no snow. I carried a handbag, a woven thing with a long over the shoulder strap. Imagine a multicolor woven cloth, 8 inches by 20 inches, like a placemat you might get in Mexico or Central America, fold it in half and sew up the sides. Then attach a long braided wool strap, long enough to go over your head and shoulder, so the strap is over your chest. Judy wasn’t with me that day, and so I was alone after the appointment to wander around the city.

I don’t remember the orthodontist appointment at all. I don’t think it was memorable, as the rest of that day was. I don’t remember what I was wearing either, but l remember later what things were returned to me. My memory of that day starts at about 4 PM, in a little store I liked a lot called The Peasant Garb. It was a sweet little boutique, with all kinds of brightly colored funky clothes that seemed to come from all over the world. I was drawn to that store many times, but could never afford to buy anything there, including that day in February.

The very first thing I remember was going through the door, was seeing a black person behind the counter. I remember thinking how great that was that they hired someone black. I could go into a whole political discussion here, but suffice it to say I was 15, from a liberal background, less sheltered than most girls my age, but still rather naïve, and it was 1973. I was pleased.

Then another black person, a man, with a gun came up to the man who had entered the shop before me and to me, and ordered us to go into the back room. There, there were several people laying on the floor, and I stepped over many of them to get to the other side of the storage room. I remember my heart pounding, adrenaline I suppose. A robbery, how exciting! Another man with a gun was there too, and one of them then ordered us to get out our money. Two men, one taller and thinner, the other shorter and stockier, both had guns. What really caught my eye though were the guns, or rather just one of those guns. I had never seen a sawed off shotgun before, didn’t know they existed. I just saw a really fat gun that looked huge.

I will digress here – I had gone to Quaker schools for all elementary school. Toy guns were forbidden in our house, not even cap guns. I remember my mother getting angry when my brother was given a cowboy outfit for Christmas one year. Comic books were forbidden, and we weren’t allowed to watch much TV. When I went to overnight summer camps, I would refuse to do the marksmen classes. Ben would take riflery, but I didn’t want to. So, my knowledge of guns was somewhat limited to say the least, but I did know what a pistol looked like, and this gun being waved around the room was not a pistol. So, the really fat gun got most of my attention.

When I was told to get my money out, I complied and had my wallet in my hand, with a rather meager amount of money. I don’t know how much I had, but it couldn’t have been more than a few dollars. I had had no intention of buying anything. But I didn’t know what to do – do I go forward and give them the money? Do I stay put? Should I lie down with the others?

I didn’t have time to act. The other man had a pistol, and he had cocked it and was pointing it at a man who was still standing. I believe this was their threat, that if we didn’t do what he asked, he’d shoot this customer (or sales person). For some reason that we will never know, the pistol went off. But because he wasn’t really holding it steady next to the customer’s head the bullet didn’t hit him. It hit me instead. Ironic, huh, someone who was (still is) so uncomfortable with guns?

Wrong place, wrong time. The bullet caught me in the lower neck, right side, not far above the collar bone, and exited on the left side of the top of my shoulder. The impact threw me back against some trash cans, hitting the top of my head. My wallet dropped from my hand. I remember knowing I was shot, and falling, and then thinking, “Now I’ll get to see what Hell is like,” and then very quickly reconsidering, “No, I’m not going to die.” And then I blacked out.

You can take my thoughts as a statement of what I thought my life was like, or as a thought from someone with very low self esteem. I wasn’t exactly a happy child, true. But I believe I just didn’t think of myself as good. And the second thought I had is probably more significant, I wanted to live.

I vaguely remember sirens. Later I was told that a medical student had been in the shop at that time, and had probably saved my life. The robbers (3 total, the woman I had seen first at the counter, and the 2 men) fled as soon as someone was injured. It wasn’t their intention to hurt anyone, I don’t think, they just wanted money. And the med student came over and did mouth-to-mouth, and probably put pressure on my neck wound. I am sure I looked a mess.

My next clear memory was in the ER, though at the time I didn’t know where I was. I remember people around me, and light. They were asking me if I could see, so I indicated somehow – nod of the head I think – that I could. Actually I really couldn’t see, except the light, but I didn’t want them to know this. I wanted to be able to see, and so I rationalized that seeing light counted. It’s funny how you bend the rules when pride is at stake, or denial, even when you’re a kid.

I am right handed, but my right hand was useless at that time. I couldn’t move it. Still, they were trying to figure out who I was, so they put a pen in my left hand and asked me to write on a pad of paper. They asked for my name, but letters were too hard to write. So we tried numbers. I would write something, and then they would guess. Numbers had the advantage of having fewer to choose from. A slash could be a 1 or a 7, maybe a 9, but not much else. Besides, they knew my first name – DONNA – from an appointment card from the orthodontist for my next visit. My wallet had fallen on the floor of the shop with my ID in it, but my handbag was still around my body because of its long strap, holding a few odd things. Slowly they got a phone number from me, LO4-2728. LO was for Locust, for back then all the first digits stood for a word. It was the number for my father’s office. And then I blacked out for a long time.

My next memories are from a few days later, when I was recovering in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU). But to keep the timeline going in one direction, I’ll tell about a few things that happened while I was more of less out of it.

The hospital called the number I had given them, asking if anyone there had a daughter or knew someone named Donna. It was a small architect’s office, and with a little asking around they arrived at my father. He didn’t know how badly I was hurt, but was told to come to the hospital only a few blocks away. His image was of me being hit by a truck. He first hailed a cab, but quickly figured out that in rush hour traffic he’d get there faster by running. He called my mother, and both of them were in the hospital soon. My grandparents were contacted to go to our house to take care of my siblings.

And the doctors set to work on me. Once in the OR, they quickly realized that I was a lot more hurt than they had initially thought. Perhaps someone just shot in the neck usually can’t write a phone number down? They cut my neck open, about a 5 inch gash horizontally, with one end just a couple of inches below my right ear, and the other end at the center of my throat. And what they found was that the bullet had completely severed my right carotid artery. It had to be sewn together end to end. I hadn’t bled outwardly much. I suspect that the bullet hole was so small, and there was enough swelling, that it effectively closed itself up at some point. So, they didn’t know till they cut me open that my carotid was blown open. The doctor on call that evening was relatively young, in residency, but old enough to have children close to my age, and it was hard on him. He didn’t come back to the hospital for 2 weeks after my surgery. That night they worked to save my life. And it wasn’t immediately apparent there was any other damage.

I believe I died that day on the OR table and came back. I used to have recurrent dreams of a wild looking large cat, with a red necktie. Years later, when I was in therapy, my therapist suggested I draw the cat. And the drawing doesn’t really look like a cat. It’s more human like, with long arms and legs, and a hairless face. There’s wild hair around the head, and it has a red slash on its neck and a long blood red “necktie” below that. We wondered if it was an out-of-body image. So, I contacted the hospital for copies of my records, and found out that I had coded that day and was brought back. I now believe I did die, had a near death experience, and came back. But after doing the drawing, the dreams stopped. And that’s ok with me.

They stitched me up, and stabilized me. Ran tests, did x-rays. And packed me off to the ICU, which I remember very clearly, as a scary place. I had a tracheotomy in my neck, but learned to talk by covering it with my finger. The med student that saved my life in the shop came by to visit, and others as well. They would read my fan mail. Hard for my story to not hit the papers, so I had mail from a lot of people, but most from kids at my school. Family members of other ICU patients would come to talk to me because my bed was near the entrance, and because I was more alert. One woman was older, dying of cancer, and weighing about 90 pounds and losing weight. The man to my left was senile or whatever word you are supposed to use now, and there was an ongoing struggle with him. If his hands weren’t tied down, he would yank out his IV. If his hands were tied down so he couldn’t use the urinal, he’d wet the bed. I found it funny in a catch 22 kind of way. There was a man on the other side of the nurse’s station who was in a glassed in space, with police guards outside. I never found out if he was a prisoner, or someone who would be once he was well. The scariest patient in the room was a drug addict who had overdosed, and wasn’t very happy to be there. Periodically she would break free and make a run for it, and wasn’t very quiet about her dissatisfaction about being stuck there. Whenever she acted up someone from the nursing station, or someone standing nearby that a nurse would commandeer, would come over and stand by me to reassure me. I remember feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Someone gave me a red plastic radio that was shaped like a doughnut, and taped it to my bed next to my head, and I listened to MoTown all day. Judy, who is half Chinese, managed to convince the door guards that she was family and paid a visit.

After a week I was moved to a private room, and had great care. Now I could have more visitors. My sister wasn’t as overwhelmed (she was 10 then) there as she was in the ICU. We celebrated my father’s and grandmother’s birthdays there. They allowed me to decorate the cake, which really was all I had strength for at that time anyway. They washed my hair, discovering a 2 inch scab on the back of my head. They had thought all the dried blood in my hair was from the injury, but I had really hit my head hard. My head has a dent where it shouldn’t and is bald there from the scar tissue. Luckily my hair covers it, most of the time. I was recovering slowly.

The doctors were puzzled though, why I wasn’t getting any feeling or motion back in my legs. They hadn’t seen any damage to my spine in x-rays, and a spinal tap didn’t show blood. So, a month later, they did another surgery to my back, and this time they found that the bullet had indeed gone through my spinal cord. It was a small bullet, .22 caliber, and it fit between the openings where the spinal bones overlap, without damaging my spine at all. There was 2/3 of my spinal cord damaged, full of scar tissue, at the T1/2 level.

2/3 of the cord makes me technically an Incomplete paraplegic. But for all intents and purposes, I’m a Complete para. I have no sensation or movement from just above my nipples down. If you see me moving around in my chair, and I do fidget, it’s probably my arms pulling myself forward, or my shoulders throwing my weight around. I do have some spasticity, which is part of being Incomplete, but not much, mainly happens when you touch my bare foot or a foot slides off the foot pedal of the chair.

I spent 4 months in rehab, which today is considered a luxury! Today they allow about 1-2 months tops for rehabilitation. But I had 4 months, to learn to dress, get in and out of beds and cars, to learn to intermittent catheterize myself (in other words to pee), to get used to a bowel program, all those essential daily tasks we take for granted after about age 4. I have another whole set of rehab stories.

Usually after hearing this story, or more often a shorter version of it, people want to know one thing. They want to know if the bad guys were caught. They were. Apparently they had been doing a number of this kind of robbery, but I was the first one hurt. After The Peasant Garb robbery, one of their neighbors turned them in. So, about a week later, as I was moved to the private room, police raided their house in the early hours one morning. They found merchandise from the store in the house, and guns thrown out the window outside. The men were Black Panthers, or so I was told, and the woman a drug addict.

There was a trial, at which I was pretty useless, except to make the jury sympathetic. Other people in the store got a better look at them, and were better witnesses. I spent the better part of the week sitting out in the hall talking to the detectives and witnesses, not in the courtroom. In the end they were convicted, I believe of robbery and attempted murder, among other things. I have newspaper clippings from those days, but haven’t looked at them in a long time. The men got 17 years, and if I remember right the woman got 5 years. She never held a gun. I used to get notices that they were up for parole, and did I have anything to say? But I never responded. And those notices stopped coming long ago. It is now 37 years later.

Do I feel anger towards them? Rarely, but I’d be lying if I said never, and I used to feel more anger than I do now.

Is there any thing I would like to say to them? No. I’d rather be me than them.

Honestly, I once considered trying to find them, to see who they were, if they were alive. I tried a Google search. It was impossible. There were many men with similar names, and who were clearly different people. One man with one of their names was a preacher. For all I know it was the same man. If I truly wanted to find them, I probably could, but it would be hard work, and at this point I don’t want to anyway.

I’ve thought of contacting other witnesses from that day, but aren’t sure what I would say. I imagine being in their place, and wondering what happened to me, so it feels like finding them would be more for their sake than for mine. I tried to find the med student once to say Thank You, but there’s no record of a doctor with his name, so perhaps he never finished school.

The one person from that time that I did contact was the surgeon who really saved my life, the one who sewed my carotid together. About 10 years ago, right about when I turned 40, I was beginning to think more about high blood pressure (which I don’t have), high cholesterol (ditto), heart disease, blocked arteries. All higher risks as you get older, and none of them a problem for me now. But I found myself wondering if that spot where the carotid had been sewn together, might be a weak spot later in my life. I worried that it might be more pinched than the rest of the carotid, and that cholesterol or plaque might deposit there. So, a neck ultrasound was done, and they couldn’t even tell where the injury had been. The doc had done that good a job. So, I figured out the doctor’s name, and found him, to thank him in a letter. He called me back right away, for he remembered me well, remembered my family too. And he said it was his first surgery of that type, though he did many more later. He had retired, and is about my parents’ age or a little younger, and he had kids about my age too. He’s the one who told me it was a tough surgery for him emotionally, and he was really pleased to know I was still alive and well. He invited me to his home, if ever I was in Philadelphia again. I haven’t taken him up on the offer, and probably won’t. Saying thank you and telling him how good a job he’d done was enough for me.

I’m not generally an angry person. I may complain and worry, but I don’t like confrontation or even the feeling of anger. It scares me. But if I had to pick some things to be angry at, it would be first of all at a system that creates people who feel a need to commit violent crimes, and allows people to carry weapons. And then it would be at our world that doesn’t really support people with disabilities, our prejudice against age, ugliness and deformity. People with disabilities have a much harder time getting jobs, making fair pay, getting housing or around town. The ADA has helped, but it isn’t enough.

And for most of us, our disability isn’t our fault. Perhaps we are born with a disability, then perhaps you can say it’s the parents fault? Not usually true. Or we are victims of violent crime or accidents. Sometimes the newly disabled is lucky, and not only are they not dead, but they can point a finger at some corporation who is at fault and will compensate them monetarily for some of the injury. There is no way that money can possibly give a quadriplegic back their ability to walk, Christopher Reeves notwithstanding. So, no amount of money is enough. But having a disability is expensive, if not personally, to society, and money does help. In my case I had a small settlement from the store I was shot in. I call it “pity money” because it paid for 2 years of college and was a small down payment on my first house. Gone long ago. I am sure I would not be able to get health insurance if I weren’t married.

But, money aside, I still do have some pent up feelings about being disabled. I have spent a lot of time this week arranging travel plans for this coming trip, that would not have been necessary if I didn’t use a wheelchair. Multiple emails for tours in ports in Argentina. Multiple calls for permission to fly on airlines. Etc.

That one day in February 1973 changed my life in a flash, perhaps for the better, perhaps not. But in any case, it wasn’t a change I wanted, nor is it one I would wish for anyone else. I may do the same things as others – kids, marriage, divorce, work, have friends, travel. But every part of it is colored by my disability in some way. And so, at least once a year, I respect this anniversary. A reminder of how life can change quickly and without notice.

Next post, hopefully, from Argentina.