mindfulness

A Big Apple Birthday

Evelyn Herwitz · April 25, 2023 · 4 Comments

Last Tuesday was my 69th birthday, so what better way to celebrate than to spend it in New York City, one of my favorite places in the world. I hadn’t been to New York since before the pandemic, which was rather stunning to realize as I planned our overnight jaunt. So, we made the most of it.

On Monday afternoon, we left our car in New Haven and took the train (seniors get a 50 percent discount—a definite advantage of aging) to Grand Central, then walked to our hotel, called (how could I resist?) The Evelyn, just north of Madison Square Park in so-called NoMad. Not only was the hotel’s name appealing, but also the decor—Art Deco and themed to nearby Tin Pan Alley, the birthplace of popular American music at the turn of the 20th century. The row of buildings on West 28th Street where songs like Give My Regards to Broadway by George M. Cohan and Take Me Out to the Ball Game by Albert Von Tilzer were composed and published have been preserved, although, true to New York’s evolving neighborhoods, they now house a group of wholesale hat and scarf importers.

On Monday night, we had dinner in the East Village at Caravan of Dreams, which serves creative and delicious vegan organic dishes, quite a treat. After a restful sleep, we spent much of Tuesday at the Museum of Modern Art. There is currently a fantastic, curated retrospective of the museum’s collection, including works by German expressionists and some Bauhaus pieces that I wanted to see. But there is always so much to savor at MoMA, and it was great to be back.

We had lunch at the museum’s Terrace Cafe, and when I ordered a slice of chocolate cake with raspberry sauce (one of my favorite flavor combinations) to split with Al, he informed our waiter that it was my birthday. Soon the waiter returned with the cake and a candle and a song, and when he finished, the whole place applauded. I felt very celebrated and grateful. And the delicious cake was on the house.

All in all, a wonderful way to mark #69. Here are some photos of favorites. Enjoy.

“Storm Clouds Above Manhattan” by Louis Lozowick (1935)

“Modjesko, Soprano Singer” by Kees van Dongen (1908)

Decorative dividers, including Frank Lloyd Wright stained glass and woven hanging by Annie Albers

“Wind Tunnel Construction, Fort Peck Dam, Montana” by Margaret Bourke-White (1936)

“Broadway Boogie Woogie” by Piet Mondrian (1942-43)

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.

Harbingers of Spring

Evelyn Herwitz · April 11, 2023 · 2 Comments

At last, the weather is warming here in Central Massachusetts, and we’re turning green again. I’m always struck by the subtleties of early spring, how the tiniest buds and flowers emerge before I notice. And then, all of sudden, so much color. It always gives me such a lift.

You don’t have to go far to find these verdant harbingers. Here are a few glimpses from around our home. Enjoy!

Anticipation

Evelyn Herwitz · March 7, 2023 · 4 Comments

If all goes according to plan, next week I will be traveling to Germany to research my second novel. (Where is the first novel, you might ask? It’s in search of a literary agent, a long process. Details at my author’s website.) The second novel is set in Germany during 1928-1938, and I’m heading for Berlin, Dessau, and Munich. As we all know, when it comes to travel (and life in general) the adage “Man plans, God laughs” is often apt.

So, fingers crossed.

This is the first time I have ever ventured abroad on my own. I never traveled as a teen or young adult, with the exception of a two-week, whirlwind trip with my sister in 1973, a gift from our grandmother, who wanted us to see her German homeland and get a taste of Europe. We traveled by Eurailpass, back when it was really cheap to go First Class, from London to Berlin (we took the train-ferry across the English Channel to Belgium, then flew into Berlin since access was limited because the country and city were still divided), and on from Berlin to Copenhagen, Amsterdam, Zurich, and Paris. We stayed in youth hostels, dragged our suitcases everywhere, saw a lot, but decided to come home a few days early because we were totally exhausted.

In recent years, Al and I have traveled to Israel and made several wonderful trips to Europe, plus a lovely visit to Canada this past summer, and I’ve gained a lot of experience with travel planning. With this trip, I’m putting all of that to good use. I’ve cleared my plan with my entire medical team, who have been universally supportive and encouraging. And Al and our daughter are, as ever, supportive, too.

After all the restrictions of the pandemic and the past couple of years trying to figure out what exactly has been going on with my heart and lungs, I am both grateful to be feeling up for the adventure and trying my best to stay healthy prior to and during my travels. More than just a trip I’ve been dreaming of for several years and planning for months, this is a personal-best challenge to myself. I need to know, as I approach my 69th birthday next month, that I can just do it.

So, if all goes according to plan, I will be taking a break from writing here for a few weeks. I hope to have some great stories and photos to share when I’m back at the end of the month. In the meantime, Dear Reader, be well.

Image: Stefan Widua

Oscillations

Evelyn Herwitz · February 21, 2023 · Leave a Comment

It’s that time of year here in New England when the temperatures ripple like a sine wave. One day it’s in the 40s, then we slide into the 30s and even the 20s, then up to the 50s. As I write this afternoon on President’s Day, it’s a relatively balmy 54°F. Later this week we’re expecting snow showers, and the weekend promises to be frigid.

Al is more sanguine about this than I am. “It’s winter,” he says, with a shrug.

So I layer up my sweaters and shed them as warranted. My fingers are cracking, like a sidewalk that shrinks and expands with winter’s thaw. I’m using up more bandages, as I always do this time of year.

The transition to spring is always the toughest on my digital ulcers, harder than in the coldest months, when the cold is more constant. At least, it used to be. With climate change comes more temperature ups and downs. A geographer friend once told me that our weather here in Massachusetts will become more like Virginia’s, and Maine’s will become more like ours used to be. His prediction seems prescient. So far, we’ve only had one short stretch of Arctic temps this season and hardly any snow.

I am profoundly concerned about the implications of a warming planet and am devoting volunteer hours to my city, helping to mitigate the effects of climate change locally. But, I must admit, my hands don’t mind. It’s selfish of me, but these milder winters are just easier to manage, without our having to move south. The transition to spring and summer will always be a challenge, because it’s the relative temperature change that plagues my ulcers. But shorter spurts of bitter cold? Less snow and ice? I’ll take it.

Life is a series of adjustments. Some we can predict. Others, we can’t. The older I get, the more I realize that staying nimble in the face of all that we can’t control is crucial to resilience.

And so, with just one more week of February ahead, as daylight grows notably longer and the switch to Daylight Savings Time looms on the horizon, I will continue to layer up and shed and layer up again, tend my fingers, and make sure I have a full inventory of bandages and other dressings. I can’t change the weather, but I can surf the sine waves.

Image: Pittigrilli

Candy Heart Wish

Evelyn Herwitz · February 14, 2023 · Leave a Comment

It’s Valentine’s Day, and we could all use a bit more love in this world. While I can’t send you a box of chocolates or a rose bouquet, Dear Reader, if I had my own little candy conversation hearts to share, here is the one message I’d print on them:

BE WELL

Easier said than done, certainly. But it’s a phrase that I’ve been thinking about a lot, especially since the pandemic. I use it to sign most of my email correspondence these days, business and personal.

Being well is more than just a physical state. We don’t necessarily have control over what our bodies do, especially with a disease as complicated as scleroderma and all its associated ailments. Assuming access to good medical care, however (and that’s a big assumption, given health care consolidation and the health insurance mess in the U.S.), it is possible to get treatments and medical support to ease the disease process. It requires recognizing and understanding your personal situation, learning what help is available and whom to trust, being a strong self-advocate, and following through on treatments and protocols.

There is a lot to learn about scleroderma, and a lot to process. My resources page links to leaders in scleroderma research and education, to help you. But the self-advocacy piece is, for me, the most important aspect of dealing with this disease for the past 40 years. I’ve learned to push my doctors for information and explanations, and to share my fears, as well. I’ve also learned to challenge treatment recommendations that don’t make sense, and how to find research that I’ve shared with my medical team to move in a more logical direction. And I make sure that I get all my questions answered in every appointment, regardless of how long it takes. I’m grateful that my medical team respects me for it, as much as I respect them.

In this sense, to BE WELL means that you are not your diagnosis. You are a complex individual with a complicated disease that requires you to stand up for yourself and what you need to remain as healthy, active, and involved in life as you are able. Wellness is as much a state of mind as a physical state. If there is one message that I hope this blog conveys to anyone with scleroderma, newly diagnosed or a veteran like me, it’s about living, not the diagnostic label.

So, happy Valentine’s Day to all. Be well.

Image: Laura Briedis

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