Wednesday, August 20, 2008

State of the Union

It's late. Can't sleep. Restless Leg Syndrome...one of my worst enemies. You lay down to sleep and suddenly, a leg moves, just slightly. Caution. Be still. Maybe it's not what I think it is. And, then, both legs pull up tight and curl til they almost break!
Pain? Not really...but the muscles just scream to MOVE!! Legs pull up. Legs straighten out. Left ankles twists in a circle, move over, right ankle has to copy. The torture has started. It's relentless and it means GET UP AND MOVE AROUND.
Midnight. So, I'm dying to sleep, I took my medication for this SYNDROME...why am I being tortured? Not sure. Guess I'll have another round of chatter with Dr. Manion on September 5th.
We'll talk, he'll question. I'll answer, he'll lead. I'll follow and we'll end up on the same page, same chapter...continue taking the meds and let me know if there is any improvement by the end of the week. OK...and, in the meantime, I'll fill the late hours with rhetoric and gab.
Let's see, RLS, diabetes type II, obesity, blood pressure meds, sleep apnea...and, the winner is??? Hey, it's not me tonight! In the meantime, a knight rode in on a neat white stallion...his name is Dr. Rogers.
"We're going to get the Lap Band procedure and take this weight off!" Finally, someone has paid attention. HALT. Aetna says, "although you've dealt with this weight all of your life, we want you to do another six months of dieting under physician's supervision." ARE THEY NUTS?
Get me all excited over a procedure, new chance with a skinny body and tell me to DIET SOME MORE! Right. How confusing can this all be? Very! Words to describe it all, let's see...frustrated, ticked off, put out, confused, excited, anxious and more.
Go. Stop. Well, hesitate for a few months. See the Psychologist. Take a test of a million questions to see if you need a straight jacket, or a Lap Band. I passed. No straight jacket, just a Band. See a nutritionist. Get all the names of Whey and Protein and liquids and powders and oh, yes...vitamins, vitamins and more vitamins.
Begin to take your string of a thousand vitamins a day. Two of them are chocolate flavored, two of them are white with citrus, one of them is B12 in liquid form (arrrghh!) and one is, you guessed it A FLINTSTONE VITAMIN!! Yeeeehaawwww!
Now, diet, but think about January. Lap Band, a one ounce pouch...no more meals as you've eaten for 59 years of life. Diet. Are they nuts? I have to pause and surrender to a few 'last tastes' and restaurants!
What a roller coaster and I haven't even pulled out of the shed yet! Yipes!! I'm learning....patience, humility, calmness and more. But, on any given late hour evening I can feel the frustration oozing slowly from my pores. Oh well, wipe it off and go another round at daylight!
Now you know what it's like to jump into this scenario. And, at the end of each day, I finally go to the bed and wonder...to move or not to move? That is the question!
Gotta love those nights when you lay your head on the pillow and remember nothing...until the early morning when your eyes pop open. Then, it all starts again!

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Big Floppy Hats and Big, Bouncing ?

The summer of 1968 turned out to be a truly remarkable experience and time of life! Following high school graduation, knowing I wanted a Teaching Degree, I decided to do various summer jobs working with kids. Some of my Baylor classmates went out into the world to discover they HATED TEACHING!
I didn't want to become a statistic with a useless degree, thus, I sought summer jobs working with teenagers, in particular. The prior summer (1967) found me working with the church recreational program. It was okay, not really exciting and sometimes mundane!
As the next summer approached, I began to search and make various contacts inquiring about different positions. Somehow, I hooked up with an older fella, Insurance Salesman, named Buck. He had served on the Camp Val Verde Board for many years and knew of an opening for the summer.
They ran four, ten day sessions with girls coming in from all over the state. It was a huge Campfire Girls Camp located just off the McGregor Highway outside of Waco. First of all, I had to live there??? for the summer...were they joking? I was a very spoiled older kid! But, I was hooked when I saw my staff! That's right, I had a staff of about 24...HORSES!! Yeehawwww.
I was hired to serve as the Camp Riding Director and of course, that gave me freedom of the entire 600 acres and all the horses. I looked them over and finally picked the 'cream of the crop' for ME. His name was Dusty, a gorgeous, pale buckskin with four white stockings accented at the knee with dark brown/black that bled into the white sox.
A man in China Springs had put Dusty there for a year, and he had agreed his horse could be used. That gelding was the best riding horse I was ever privileged to straddle. His canter was as slow as the other horses walk. What a dream...so, he was MINE for three months!!
We had a wrangler, a young man, age 17, cowboy type, but not willing or ready to set the world on fire! His job was to wrangle, feed, saddle and take care of all the tack in the equipment room! He had to have 24 horses saddled and tied, waiting in the arena for the morning classes to begin.
I also had two riding assistants. They were experienced, but I had grown up riding and was a bit beyond either of them in skills. Thus, it was...I allowed them to pick their favorite horse for the summer and we were set.
With every new session, all 'counselors and directors' were expected to sit in the big, open dining hall and register girls. Not too bad a deal...kind of easy and somewhat entertaining. We had fat girls, skinny girls, quirky girls, sexy (older) girls and some girls who weren't sure who they were or why the heck they were there!
The cabins all lay sprawled over the main campsite and we had a rocky road that took us down to the river's edge. A small low-water damn resided there, beautiful scenery and yes, we had to be on the lookout constantly for rattle snakes.
Just behind the arena, we had a narrow trail that rocked and rolled all the way down the bottom meadow, there we'd cross the river and work out way up the other hill and continue on our outings. I loved it too death. My passion was the country and horses and ... I was getting paid to this!!
One of our mares was an albino, of course, Spook was her handle. She could run like the wind, but was very controllable with a good bridle and curb chain. The curb chain ran from each loop of the bit and nested in behind the horses chin, in the back. When you reined the horse in, the curb pinched just enough to send a clear message, STOP PLEASE!!
One morning as we were returning to the arena, I told the group, trot your horses. Suddenly, Spook's head was passing Dusty's head and I turned to see the terror in the 12 year old's eyes. She was screaming, "help me Ms. Pat, help me, I can't stop her!" I think Spook's first life had been on the race track 'cause that mare ran like there was no tomorrow.
I kicked Dusty into high gear and three times, just as I got close enough to lean over and grab the right rein, Spook would pull her head far to the left, causing the rein to be out of reach. Now, two horses pounding the earth at full speed ahead, a girl screaming I'm going to die and me shouting how to pull the mare in and stop...I still think to this day I musta looked just like Annie Oakely!
However, Spook cut through a small opening and a low hanging branch knocked the kiddo off in the soft dirt! She was okay, very frightened, but after it was all said and done, she was famous. That mare had given her the ride of her life!
I followed Spook up to the barn to discover the curb chain dangling, broken. Miles, the wrangler, had failed to check all the horses carefully. Near disaster, but all was ok.
We were set up for the Third Session Registration on a bright Monday morning. Around 10 o'clock, I was talking to "Ms. Byrd", the swimming instructor when suddenly WHAM! The double screen doors were flung wide and fast, slamming against the wall and talking and giggling like you never heard!
Big 'ol floppy hats dawned every head, giant movie star sunglasses graced every face and the t-shirts with the bouncing 'boobs' were the craziest thing I had seen! I said, "who in the world are those girls?" Byrd answered, "Oh, we didn't tell you about this group. They're from wealthy River Oaks, Houston." That said it all.
You could tell...from wealth they fled for 10 days and they were loaded for F U N. One of the counselors said, "yeah, they're the group that will never wear a bra while they're here."
I smiled, turned my face to her and said, "what did you say?" She repeated, "You have your hands full (not really) 'cause they will not wear a bra." That was all I needed. A challenge. A reason. A purpose.
You see, all of the horses at camp were donated. Even for an expert rider, they could beat you too death in a trot! I smiled as the ritzy girls approached and said, "we'll see about bras after they've had their first riding lesson tomorrow." Someone 'bet me' and it was GAME ON!
Next morning, second session, here they came. Floppy hats, big sunglasses, and big, bouncing, uh, well you know. Miles the wrangler was suddenly in heaven. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face!
I gave everyone 10 minutes to walk around and select their horse 'for the week'. Finally, I said, "girls, we're going to mount your horses. Gather the rein in your left hand, grab the back of the saddle with your right hand, put your left foot in the stirrup, reach for the saddle horn with your left hand and swing your right leg across the saddle. Ready, mount!"
Fair warning had been given to my assistants. I told them, "just follow my lead, this will be a fun class."
The group turned their horses to the left and we were off. We walked for a few minutes and then the fun started. My directive was, "trot your horses, please" ... they all looked in horror at me, as I sat calmly in the center of the ring, and gasped. "Trot your horses." It began.
They all were holding the reins in left hand, making a sling for their swaying, BIG _ _ _ _ s with their right hand and forearm. They were ok, in control...until
My following command, "left hand on the reins, free hand on your right thigh, good posture, balls of your feet in stirrups with weight balanced." You could have knocked those kids off a horse with a feather. Shock had set in...we trotted in that lesson for 45
l o n g minutes! Gotta luv it!
The lesson ended, to their delight (they were still alive) and my two assistants and I cracked up when they cleared the area. It was the funniest life lesson I had given anyone!!
Dinner time rolled around and everyone was wondering, where's the River Oaks Gang? I'd smile and shrug my shoulders. Suddenly the screen doors opened gently and in walked the GROUP. The counselors and directors had to turn their heads away in laughter. Everyone of those girls had a good, tight bra in place!!
That was the first summer those kids had a reason to put a bra on!! But, trust me, they learned quickly that the Riding Director could strongly influence their thinking! I had fun the rest of the time with the group. I had gained respect and had stepped forward as a positive role model.
Life events such as that steeped me experience 'by fire' in some cases. It taught me to have a goal, make a plan and work the plan. Yes, I found I liked kids...I found that I could gain their trust and respect and it was all good.
As for these days, well, I still wear a bra...but perhaps, since I'm 'gittin' a round tuit' next summer...I MAY NOT!!! If you believe that, I have some swamp land to sell ya!!!