Stop Telling Me What to Do

I had plans last week.
I was headed to the beach (my refuge) for my paddle boarding lesson and I was totally stoked about it.

I was also scheduled to volunteer at the hospital, have my nails done and meet a friend for coffee.
Not all in one day, of course, but on Tuesday and Wednesday...

Instead, I barely left my bed. And I liked it.
My muscles decided they were calling the shots. And they didn't want me to go very far. My brain, or my spirit or whatever you want to call it, had tons of stuff in mind to do, but when it came down to doing them, my muscles said, "You aren't going anywhere."

And so I obeyed.
I had to. I'm never given a choice.
That's how it is when you go through 2 paralytic episodes in 2 days.

"Really? This is happening?!" I thought to myself.
"No, Ann! We aren't going there!" (I may argue with myself more than you realize) So, while I grappled with the idea of back-to-back attacks, I resigned myself to begin cancelling my week until I was back to baseline.

(Baseline~ starting point; measurement of my muscle strength before each episode of paralysis)

Hopefully I get to baseline. There seems to be some indication that I become weaker with each attack. I'm not fully buying it though.

I took it day by day. My quads and hams were talking loudly. "We're not cooperating today!"
Bullies.

So, I cancelled Tuesday, which was my first paddle boarding lesson with Giancarlo. He said it was really windy anyway.
I slept all day.  "Hey, you might feel stronger tomorrow! Don't cancel everything yet!" That's me talking.
Yeah. Not so much.

I cancelled my Wednesday, which was Physical Therapy. "Ah, I hate missing that. I need it so badly." (Still talking to myself)
But I left one thing on my calendar...a visit from a long time, dear friend. She was coming to the house and I didn't have to move a muscle if I didn't want to. I knew seeing her would be good for me.
I was right. She brought pink tulips. My favorites.

It's Thursday now. Check my schedule..."Nothing! Oh good!"
"You need to just lie down and sleep today!" I knew they were right.
I was really weak and I felt lousy. My muscles continued to scream louder. The middle of my back was spasming... It was tense and angry. I took the meds prescribed to me for intolerable pain. Between sleep, I stayed on the couch all day watching reruns of Blue Bloods. Thanks ion-Television!

When I laid down that night, I had a doctor's visit and physical therapy scheduled for Friday. My last thought was a prayer..."God, thank you for this day. Please help me get through tomorrow."

God has always heard my prayers. The moon was shining brightly through the Coconut Palms outside my window and I knew He heard me. I just knew He was there. I drifted off...peacefully.

Friday morning came early. I opened my eyes before dawn.
JimmyPage was still in his little bed sleeping beside me. I whispered his name. He stirred and looked up at me. "I can move," I thought. Yes, I could move freer and more easily than on Thursday. And I was not in pain.
"Thank you God," I said.
He smiled.

'Lord, lead me where You want me to go, I prayed.
"Today, I'm in charge of this body! And we're doing all the things I have planned!" I proclaimed out loud to the room. I made it to my doctor's appointment and to PT, where I kicked butt! Plus one more thing~lunch with my BFF Suzanne! I smiled all day!

I even wore my Superman t-shirt because I had been through a hellish week and rebounded, yet again, to fight another day! People don't get that when they see me, but that's ok. I know. People who know me get it. And God knows.

This is life with Periodic Paralysis. I do get tired of my muscles dictating to me. Perspective is key. Everything that was scheduled for last week, that I had to cancel, is now on my calendar for this week! And I can't wait!

Peace friends xx

Ernie

I make friends easily.
That hasn't always been true, but it is now. You would call me social...not the kind of social who throws a lot of parties or loves to attend parties so I can 'work the room,' so to speak. But I connect with people easily one-on-one. I'm good at that. People usually bring out the best in me...and I can work a room when I need to.
I like people. I like hearing their stories.

God has blessed me by throwing every type of person at me you can imagine! Every color and nationality... every style, religion, background and viewpoint. That's one of the perks of living in the great melting pot that is South Florida.

Whenever I meet someone new, I'm reminded that everyone has a story. They do, you know.
Everyone.
And those stories, in part, shape why people think the way they do.
Some are happy to share their stories. (Women)
Others, not so much. (Men)
Wink. Wink.

There are exceptions, of course.
A couple of weeks ago I met a really interesting gentleman  at my Starbucks. He was clearly elderly, but sharp, you know? He sat down with me at my table. He spoke first. It was clear he wanted to connect with me, so I folded up my iPad and gave him my undivided attention.

After we exchanged names, he told me about his business in NYC...He was a very successful businessman...a dressmaker in the garment district since the 1940's! He spoke passionately about the business of dressing women and his love of the City. I could also tell he really liked the latte he was drinking! This guy made me smile right from the beginning.

"I'd like a refill," he told me.
I started to get up, but suddenly a woman came from around the table. In quick, orderly fashion, she  threw away his cup and ordered him a new latte. I didn't know who she was or why she had such superior hearing...!

Eventually he got around to telling me about the most important job he ever held. He's a father but he said that wasn't it. His daughter was with him, although she wasn't sitting with us...I couldn't say why. When he introduced us, she turned out to be the woman who refreshed his coffee! I should've known...!
I was a bit amused at this point. Why was she sitting around the corner? I wondered. Did she need a break from dad? Did he want a break from her? Was he there to meet chicks? I laughed to myself!
But I digress...

As successful as he was in the garment district of NYC, he had a more remarkable achievement. Turns out he regards his most important job ever as the one he held in Normandy, France, 1944.

He didn't storm the beach with the other soldiers on that historic day.

His purpose was to arrive early and scout the French countryside and beaches, mapping it all out and spying on the enemy before June 6, because Ernie was part of the Navy Special Warfare unit in WW2. He was, for all intents and purposes, the firstborn of the Navy Seals.

Goosebumps made their way up my back and I shivered.

I knew I was in the company of a very unique individual...one of the Greats of the Greatest Generation. This was going to be special morning. A real treat..

He didn't really want to answer my questions. So I just let him talk at his own pace and in his own way. He began with, "We knew where they were."

"The Germans?" I asked.
He nodded.

I already loved this man. It was as if someone had lifted him from the pages of my history books and dropped him into my morning routine!
I wanted to know everything! I'm a details kind of girl, but I bit my tongue and allowed him to continue.
He would talk about it briefly and then tell me he wanted to date me.
I was smitten.

"We were there for weeks spying on them."
I smiled.
"You got a million dollar smile, baby...Wanna have dinner?"
I couldn't keep from smiling and nodding. "Sure, I'll have dinner with you."
"We landed at night," he told me, "They never knew we were there."
"Were you afraid?" I asked him.
"I was too young to be scared."
"You are a beautiful woman." (He's 96 years old--I knew he was mentally sharp, but how was his eyesight?!?)
We were digressing.
Uhhhhhhhhhhh...
"Thanks"

War and flirting...for about an hour...from a 96 year old Navy veteran, who has lived more in his lifetime to make anyone jealous. Especially me.

He completed his military mission on a beach in a far away land, when he was just a boy, surrounded by Nazis...apparently too young, too courageous and too naive to be afraid.

9,000 men died on that beach in one day, D-Day, but because of him and men like him, 100,000 soldiers made it to the beach alive in order to liberate France and eventually win the war.

He came home to his beloved America to marry his sweetheart, like so many of the others, start a family and run a successful business in the most demanding city in the world. Makes sense, doesn't it? He's that kind of guy.

Some people are just destined by our Creator to do amazing things in this life. Ernie is one of those
people. He's an American treasure. Even though he didn't make a big deal out of it, I think he may recognize his place in history. I could see it in his gray-blue eyes. I just pray the rest of us do and that we never forget. The pride and sense of satisfaction were still evident as he talked to me about it, but so was the reluctance to reveal too much to an outsider who wouldn't understand because she wasn't there.

Thank you, Ernie. And thank you to all our veterans.
Annxx


Post Script
Unfortunately there is a post script here I have to share.

On Monday of this week, I was with Ernie at Starbucks once again. It was another 'chance' meeting. I needed to finish a blog post and he was there sipping lattes with his daughter. He flirted as usual and we laughed, like always. He mentioned that it was unusually warm, though, and that he felt dizzy. I watched him.

Eventually, during the course of our morning conversation, Ernie became pale and his eyes fixed in one place. I didn't take my eyes off him.
His daughter jumped up.

"Daddy, are you alright? Daddy, do you want to go home?"
I watched in silence. I grew anxious. Tears welled up in my eyes. 'No, I thought.'
'Just no.'

I picked up my phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"He said he was too warm and his head hurt."
"Then his eyes did something I've never seen before."
"No, he's not responding," I told the dispatcher.

We'll be there in less than 5 minutes," the guy promised.

"Daddy!"
"Daddy!!!"
"Daddy!!!!"
Once again, familiar goosebumps made their way up my back and I shivered.
Ernie couldn't respond. He started to slide down in the somewhat uncomfortable wooden chair that Starbucks provided. I asked the barista for a damp cloth to place on Ernie's forehead. He brought a glass of water. I told them not to give it to him!

Meanwhile, the EMTs arrived in less than 5 as promised! Thank God for these guys! My dear friend and hero was in the best hands our city has to offer and soon on his way to the best hospital in the area.

It's Thursday and I have not stopped praying for Ernie. I don't have any updates as of yet. When I get some information, I'll share it with you. Please join me in praying for this true American hero...
Thank you friends. xx