Right.
It isn't a long walk, but my feet and legs are not what they used to be. I had flashbacks to my earlier times at Mass Art when I'd walk from Back Bay to the College, no problem. Walked eternally down Longwood Ave between campuses with little difficulty. It troubled me yesterday to realize how difficult it is to not have full strength in ones limbs. My right leg isn't up to snuff and walking is difficult. Period. I am getting glimpses of the difficulties of not having access to the world because of mobility issues. Looking at the double flights of stairs entering Mass Art as impossible. Crossing the street a little slower than I'd like. Looking for ways of getting from Point A to point B that don't involve stairs, curbs, or extra walking. Seriously. I am only 48!! WTH? Thinking about doing this every day while taking a course made me want to crawl under my bed and hide. But Toby has been under there, so I will refrain.
Instead, I let myself trudge slowly and persistently (is there any other way?) watching people buzz by me on my left and right as I made my way to the Continuing Ed office and then to Security for yet another embarrassing Mass Art ID for the collection. It is hard because I look okay, or "just fat" -- but there is a lot more going on with every step than I would have known when I was a twenty-something buzzing along Huntington Ave. The things we learn as we age.
The nice peeps in the CE office took me over to the parking office to ask about HP parking for the days I am taking the class. Not sure it is possible, but sure would be helpful. I want my energy spent on creating and thinking about art, not thinking about how the heck I am going to tote my arse and the supplies to class every day.
When I was an undergraduate there was a lovely lady named June who used to drop in to administer course reviews and do other administrative tasks. She was in rough physical shape. A small woman, hunched asymmetrically, walked slowly and with obvious difficulty. Yet she always smiled, and I'd see her walking between campuses, slowly. I wish I knew then what I know now. What a trooper she truly was! I thought of her as I tried to cross the street and the light changed sooner than I thought it would, and I was in no position to run and complete the distance. Perseverance. Lumber along, keep it moving, sunshine.
Even though the legs were done when I got back to the MFA parking lot, I made myself go in and visit some old friends before leaving. Such a good place. I checked in with Van Gogh's Ravine, and saw the Nubian Gold exhibit (familiar objects in a new display...oh those beads!!) Visited the early Egyptian pottery, stumbled into some really abstract stone sculptures buy a contemporary ( I think Japanese?) artist. Walked by a lot of contemporary art that I can't totally understand as being art, took a tea break like a tourist outside the book shop, and it felt a little like a holiday trip instead of drudgery. Popped into the book shop and lo and behold, there were the small porcelain bowls I used to get in Turkey for sale. I use these bowls for beads and over the years several have broken. I got two new ones. Then I saw a larger, gorgeous Egyptian alabaster bowl, also perfect for beading. As I held it in my hands, I could feel Egypt. Bead supplies and my artistic self refreshed, I made it back to the parking lot and gratefully into my car for the sunny ride home.
Earlier in the morning I had an appointment with my rheumatologist. She just returned from Japan and told me how she read all the medical journals on the flights. Three new meds are coming down the pike, as well as more research into the gut/ra link. I asked her if probiotics might help, and she said she has patients who use them but like diet, there is no conclusive link between disease activity and what they take. She said it would be great if there was proof that they helped, but she isn't seeing it. I really respect her honesty. She also told me about the issues she is having with insurance companies over requiring patients to have office visits when they receive chemo, which they argue are unnecessary. If you are sick when you get these meds, you can get very, very sick. Because of the insurance now, a patient no longer sees a provider before getting the drugs, Doesn't make sense to me. Also, we discussed the way pain is (not) managed lately and I thanked her for helping me retain aspects of a normal life. She suggested I write a letter for my patient record documenting how beneficial these pain medications have been (nothing short of life-changing, here, as I've written before.) It would serve as evidence of need and benefit should my file get audited by the state or the insurance company. This is one writing task that I am happy to complete.
A new image to think on for the day...