Living with Scleroderma

Reflections on the Messy Complexity of Chronicity

Hearing

February Thaw

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I was finally able to take a walk Monday afternoon around my neighborhood. The sun was bright, the sky a robin’s-egg blue, temps in the mid ’50s, and my thumb had healed enough so that I could swing both arms without the pain of gravity’s pull on a swollen finger.

All good.

The snow from a recent storm and subsequent snow showers had mostly melted, sending water trickling through storm drains. A mourning dove cooed plaintively from a nearby rooftop. As I walked, the too-tight muscles in my back began to relax. Annoying chatter in my mind quieted, and I focused on what I saw, heard, smelled . . .

Hints of green amidst bleached grass.

A watchful dog’s bark.

A power drill’s whine.

A passerby’s hello.

Tiny buds on tree branch tips.

Hockey sticks slap slap slapping.

Overhead a private plane’s purr.

Wood smoke’s tang.

Sparrows’ chatter.

Sneakers’ scrunch.

Spring can’t come too soon.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Virtual Advantage

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As we brace ourselves against the Omicron variant that’s surging across the U.S. and around the globe, all-too-familiar restrictions are going back in place. It’s scary and frustrating and annoying, yes. But if infection rates in other countries hold true here, there’s at least some reason to hope that this latest wave will be short-lived and not as dangerous. Especially if you’re fully vaccinated, which includes a booster.

In the meantime, I’m taking some inspiration from a virtual meeting I attended last week, and I hope you will, too. What’s interesting to me is that the meeting would probably have been less inspiring if it had been held in person, but Covid restrictions required the online format.

Here’s the background: Over the summer, I got involved in some local civic action, coordinating a group of concerned community members to push our fair city to create a commission that would protect our urban forest. Too many street trees have been targeted for removal to accommodate development and infrastructure improvements, when other solutions are available to achieve those goals while saving mature trees. This is an issue I’ve cared about for decades, but had not engaged with for some time. Our urgent climate crisis impelled me to get involved again.

We succeeded in our effort and also helped to re-elect a city counselor who was a key player in the mix. As a result of all this, I decided to apply for a volunteer seat on a related advisory committee that will oversee the city’s recently adopted plan to mitigate climate change. I passed the first hurdle when my letter and resume were approved for further consideration.

The next step was an interview with a citizen’s advisory board that clears applicants for all city commissions and committees. In the Before Times, this would have been conducted in-person, in some kind of public hearing space where each of about 20 applicants for various volunteer roles would have been interviewed one at a time, semi-privately. But due to Covid, we were all online, in our little Brady-Bunch-boxes, along with the board members, interviewing in front of everyone.

I was #15 on the agenda and a bit nervous.

As the meeting proceeded, however, it soon became apparent that I was in the company of some really remarkable souls. Each one of us wanted to help the city do better. Each wanted to contribute their expertise and passion to a particular volunteer responsibility.

Three of the candidates had immigrated here years ago—one from Ghana, one from Vietnam, and one from Libya—and all wanted to give back to the city (zoning board, elder affairs commission, board of health) that had taken them in and enabled them to flourish. Three others applying for the same committee as I was had outstanding professional credentials related to environmental engineering and energy conservation. I chose to emphasize my communications skills along with my knowledge of the city’s urban forest.

One young man who was an amateur boxer and had grown up in local youth clubs wanted to help others gain the support and affirmations that had meant so much to him by serving on a commission devoted to inclusion and diversity. Another was an attorney who had recently moved to the city and wanted to help with human rights issues that included, most recently, the use of police body cameras. And that’s just about half the people at the virtual meeting.

If Covid hadn’t forced us to attend online, I never would have heard all those wonderful stories. It made me feel really great to know that these people exist. Best antidote ever for all the dark news these days.

And, yes, I made the cut. Final step is an interview with the City Manager’s staff. Even if I don’t get picked, I know that some caring and talented people will be selected. That’s all that really matters.

Here’s hoping 2022 brings more light to us all. Best wishes for a healthy, uplifting New Year.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Harrison Steen

Party Crasher

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Just when it seemed like we could finally enjoy a semi-normal holiday season, with safe family gatherings if all are vaccinated, and even the possibility of eating indoors at a restaurant again post booster, along comes Omicron.

We still have a lot to learn about what appears to be a highly contagious Covid “variant of interest.” It will be a couple of weeks before scientists can determine if Omicron can defy the vaccines, although there is reason to believe that the vaccines, especially with a booster, will still protect against serious illness.

In any case, the same safety precautions continue to apply: get vaccinated, get a booster if you’re 18 or older and at least six months out from your full dose, wear a mask in public, practice social distancing, and get tested if you are exposed to someone who has Covid or if you have symptoms.

I am trying to focus on the positive. I’m really grateful that our family are all boosted. We had a great visit with extended family over Thanksgiving weekend, all were vaccinated, and it felt like the Before Times. And so far, so good, I feel fine. I hate having to wear a mask in public, but I can deal with it. It does not impinge on my personal liberty. I am glad to do my part to protect myself and others.

Perhaps this latest development will finally convince the hold-outs to get the jab. Probably that’s wishful thinking. Clearly, more vaccines are needed throughout the world to save lives and make the transition to just another virus we learn to live with.

And so, the pandemic drags on. Stay safe out there.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Bernard Hermant

What I’m Grateful For

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What a difference a year can make. Last Thanksgiving, our younger daughter couldn’t come home from Philly because of Covid risks. We had a small celebration with our eldest, who lives only an hour away. But the holiday was overshadowed by all the uncertainty and infections and deaths wrought by the pandemic.

This year, we’re looking forward to all four of us being together on Thursday and to seeing extended family over the weekend. We’re all vaccinated and boosted, so I’m much more relaxed about it than I was last November.

So, of all that I’m grateful for this holiday—our family, dear friends, a nice home in a peaceful neighborhood, a supportive community, the ability to work for myself and pursue my own writing, relative good health despite scleroderma, and more—the thing I am most grateful for this Thanksgiving is the Covid vaccine.

It is an absolute miracle. It is worth the temporary side effects. It prevents serious illness. It saves lives. It has protected me for many months, now. I fear how I would have fared during the Delta wave this summer without it. As cases again surge in Europe and here in the U.S., primarily among those who are not vaccinated as colder weather drives us indoors, I profoundly hope that more people will realize the incredible gift of this scientifically sound and safe vaccine, and get protection for themselves and others around them.

This is my 500th post on Living with Scleroderma. I could never have imagined, when I started this blog on January 3, 2012, that I would be writing about surviving a global pandemic nearly ten years later. Just typing that sentence is mind-boggling. We can never know what is coming next. My hope for you, Dear Reader, is that you make the most of each and every day, whatever it brings—and bring your best to it. That’s really all that any of us can ever hope to do.

Be well, and happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Eric Tompkins

Winter’s Breath

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The city swept our streets last week, clearing mounds of brown leaves that neighbors had raked or blown into piles along the curb. Then the wind blew and rain fell and more leaves speckled lawns and sidewalks and pavement.

The trees always win, and that’s fine with me. Fallen leaves return nutrients to soil. And I like their sound and earthy smell as I scuffle through them. A child’s pleasure, it’s one of the rewards of forcing myself out the door to take my walk when it’s colder and the sun sets too early. My neighbors wear warm coats and wool hats as they walk their dogs. We all feel winter’s breath.

My fingers, too, are registering the approach of colder weather. The heat is on in our home, and my skin is dry. I’m up to four digital ulcers again, after a really long stretch of only one or two over the summer and well into fall. For now, no infections, although I’ve been on and off antibiotics for months, and my right thumb is not happy with my typing.

This morning I see my dentist, who had a new flipper made for my missing tooth. I’m hoping it will be easier and sturdier than Version One, which I’ll also have her check. Since I got my implant two weeks ago, the flipper no longer fits. I have yet to decide if this false tooth was worth the money, but I also have at least two more months to wait until I can get my crown and have all my teeth again—that is, assuming that the other lower front tooth, which is also resorbing, can stay put for a while longer.

So it goes. Managing my scleroderma is always a process of fine tuning every day. After 40 years, it’s just part of my routine—time consuming, but mostly white noise. I prefer to focus on living.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Johannes Plenio