Space Goddess

Okay, stay with me on this one—In Part 1, I talked about becoming aware of imminent senior citizen-itis. I digressed into automatic beds and lessons learned. Now, let’s get back to my visit to Chicago this past week. (No cheating now—let’s see a show of hands of all those who remembered my last post in detail!):

By the time I arrived at Hotel Hospital (Highland Park Hospital, Highland Park, Il—no longer the 5 Star property of days gone by), the doctors re-read Mom’s xray and changed her diagnosis from pneumonia to bronchitis—a good thing if you’re into ranking disease severity. I brought Mom a copy of the article that appeared in the newspaper about my selling space travel and showed it to her. She loved the article and the accompanying photo of “yours truly.” I then showed it to Mary, Mom’s caregiver and true security blanket. When Mom asked what Mary was reading. I showed it to Mom, again. She was thrilled to see the article and photo, again. For a kid hiding in an adult’s body, this repeated adulation by one’s parent is a very good thing (I’m still working on learning Lesson #2 from the last post!). See, even dementia has its upside!

Unfortunately, there are some very un-pretty aspects of dementia and I was soon to witness one of them. My mom awakened from a very brief nap and said to nobody in particular, “What am I doing here? Why am I here?” I stood at Mom’s bedside and assured her that she had been brought to the hospital the day before, that she had bronchitis, and that the doctor thought she’d go home the next day. Mom was not in a buying mood, apparently, and didn’t buy what I was saying. In fact, she told me I was lying, that I had taken her to Kansas City and was keeping her in a hospital there. She literally begged me to let her go.

Even now, as I recount this to you, I feel a lump in my throat and my stomach tightening. “This is not my mother. This is not the woman who organized book clubs long before Oprah made them a “must do”; this is not the woman who traveled the world with my father, sketchbook in hand, capturing her memories in pen and ink. Who is this woman?”

Bypassing the nurses, I called the doctor’s office (remember, this “hotel” has fallen in the ratings and I decided “self-service” was the best choice). My sister, NanC, tutored me on how to avoid the maze of “To speak to a nurse sometime in the next decade, press 1″ routine and I was able to talk “Live” to a nurse, describe the situation, AND receive a call back from the doctor within 5 minutes (Thanks, Dr. Kanarek, I’m impressed!)! He told me that elderly patients with dementia don’t do well in hospitals and that I could take her home immediately (and why didn’t he release her when he realized she didn’t have pneumonia???).

We brought Mom home without much fuss (save a few dissociative moments and almost tipping her over as I tried to navigate her wheelchair over the threshold of her front door–oops!) and she calmed down. “I didn’t think I’d be back here,” she confessed. “I thought I was a goner! I’ll have to add an extra prayer tonight!” How bittersweet that comment is to me—the realization that one day, she, AND I, will leave our homes to never return. Yet, how sweet a moment it was to learn that my mom prays! 

I’m not sure when I first began to think about getting old—at age 30, definitely middle-aged I thought; 40 was a painful blur; 50, the beginning of the best years of my life so far; it wasn’t 50, so when was it or, perhaps more revealing, why was it?

I spent a few days in Chicago this week, an unplanned visit with my mother, who had been admitted to the hospital on Monday. Mom is going to be 90 years old in October and is suffering some form of dementia. When Mom goes to the hospital, it’s a very big deal.

Two years ago my mom spent a few days in the hospital with pneumonia. When my brother, Ron, called me, I was about to head home from a week of hotel site inspections in Athens and Crete (It’s fun to chronicle my life by destinations!). By the time I got home to Kansas City, the “I just want you to know…” call became “You’d better come up ASAP!” I was very upset and had meaningless conversations with myself to allay my fears and projections (why don’t I project happy events?):”Come on, Barbara,” I chided, “She’s lived a full life. Don’t be selfish!”; the truly selfish “This is really bad timing; I have so much work to do; and the dose of reality, “So this is what it’s like to grow old.”

My mother recovered and we brought her home laden with prescriptions, a machine to help break up her congestion, and lots of flowers.

On the plus side, Mom had asked me to buy her a new bed before she got home—a “super duper, extra-long, twin-sized, electrically-endowed-to-move-in-many-directions bed” and it had been delivered in time for her return from Hotel Hospital (they have valet parking AND Starbucks!!!). I had adjusted the bed so her head would be elevated (just like in the hospital—where she repeatedly told me how much she loved the hospital bed!). Using her walker, Mom came into the bedroom, looked at the bed and said, “I can’t sleep like that! Put the mattress flat!”

Life with an Aging Parent Lesson #1: Do what’s right

Life with an Aging Parent Lesson #2:  You are no longer the child seeking approval. See Lesson #1

Life with An Aging Parent Lesson #3: When your parent asks you to do something, see Lessons #1 and #2.

Moral of the story: the mattress has been flat for 2 years!

to be continued…

Ithaa, an Undersea Restaurant, is real, albeit unusual. It is one of the restuarants you can choose at the Hilton Maldives Resort & Spa Rangali Island. I start this entry by stating the restaurant is real because when I received an email with photos of the restaurant, I thought it was a hoax, a digitally created urban legend. However, after searching snopes.com (where I often check the “absolutely true—I swear it!” emails I often read which are, in fact, absolutely untrue!), I discovered, Ithaa (pronounced eet-ha) exists! As much as I am dying to sample the wonderful resorts of the Maldives, this “trendy” attraction doesn’t make it to my “must see and do” list—too much of man manipulating nature in an area where human intervention is generally minimal. So there!

My most unique dining experience was probably dinner at Jules Verne in the Eiffel Tower; second would be the chicken soup I attempted to eat while the Silver Cloud navigated the Chilean fjords in 20++ feet swells Thanksgiving night, 1997. And the most unusual place you’ve eaten is?

One year from today the Kings will be at Kings Pool and we’re told the locals will have their ears flapping! Translation: Michael and I will be on safari in Botswana next year! Our first stop will be Kings Pool, a luxury tented camp in Northern Botswana, known for its elephant herds. Don’t let the word “tent” scare you! Remember, my definition of camping is staying at a Holiday Inn with a black-and-white TV and no pool (the TV part could actually be a valuable antique now!). These “tents” are permanent—they have thatched roofs, plush beds, plunge pools and private viewing areas (salas). From Kings Pool we head to Vumbura Plains (similar accommodations, plunge pools, etc) and our final camp visit will be Mombo, considered by many to be the best game viewing in Botswana. Mombo has lots of “cats” and is known for its lions. From Botswana we’ll wing our way to Mauritius and enjoy 3 nights at the Oberoi http://www.oberoihotels.com/mauritius/turtlebay/oberoi-mauritius/overview/index.asp?leftinfo=1&leftitem=1.

We planned the itinerary and our friends at Wilderness Safaris http://www.wilderness-safaris.com/ and Oberoi Hotels & Resorts http://www.oberoihotels.com/ turned it into a reality. Thank you, Gordon (at Wilderness Safaris), Sharon (Oberoi USA) and Jennifer (Oberoi Mauritius), for your detailed planning and guidance!

Because we’ll celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary and my 60th birthday in 2008, we decided to plan a special journey. Can you imagine what it’s like for two travel fanatics to decide where to travel? We played with many ideas—all of which remain on our list of “to savor” or to “savor again”: cruising Antarctica; trekking Bhutan; safari in India with a few days in the Maldives; North Island of the Seychelles; a couple of weeks in Tuscany and Sardinia; and gorilla trekking in Rwanda. We also considered inviting our friends and clients to join us wherever we finally decided to experience. The votes are in and Botswana won and we decided this is “OUR” vacation; if we had others join us, we’d don our “travel consultant/tour guide” hats and that didn’t seem to fit well with words like “anniversary,” “celebration,” and “romantic!”

We’d be happy to share our custom designed itinerary with you so you, too, can indulge yourselves in the amazing beauty we call “Africa!”

One last comment: ever wonder what Africa looks like from Space (come on, folks, I AM THE SPACE GODDES after all!)??? Here’s a photo taken from Apollo 17 as it headed towards the moon: 

Consider doing away with certain holidays–say, perhaps Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Administrative Assistant’s Day? I know that change would sorely disappoint Hallmark, American Greetings, your local florist, and stores that sell men’s ties and/or golfballs; but think about it. What would our world look like?

For me, doing away with a particular day would remind me to rise to the occasion of treating my mom, my husband, any assistant I may have someday, with courtesy, kindness and respect on a daily basis. I would learn to connect with these people in a genuine, caring manner. I’d look into their eyes and say, “I love you,” “You are very special to me,” and “I respect you.” I’d demonstrate by my actions that the words I utter are real and verifiable.

Instead of finding the one “wow” bouquet to send my mom, I could send her a small violet plant (she loves African violets) from time to time or some English toffee (another of her favorite things). I could tell Michael that next few days look like excellent golfing weather and that I hope he plays a few rounds; I could take the assistant (tbd at the present time) to lunch just because.

Hmmm, maybe that’s not a bad idea—trading a day of artificial sweetness for a lifetime of grateful action. I just may be on to something!

 “Mrs. King, is it true you now frequently watch the Science Channel?”

“Yes,” I answer gazing into the eyes of the Arbiter of Suburban Women’s Guide to Appropriate Behavior.

“And you read msnbc.com’s Space News and Alan Boyle’s Cosmic Log on a regular basis?” she shook her head in disgust.

“I do! They are really interesting! You ought to check out the slide show, ‘Explore the wonders of Space’ on the msnbc.com Space site!” 

“Mrs. King, my question only needed a simple yes or no answer! Please control your enthusiasm!”

“Control my enthusiasm? Hello! Are you alive? Where have you been hiding? I used to be like you a long time ago (pre 12/5/06 when I was selected to become an Accredited Space Agent for Virgin Galactic!). Oh, I knew about Space: I had to recite the planets in order at school (so what is the final verdict on Pluto, by the way?); I watched the first moonwalk; I watched the Tom Hank’s narrated film about the cosmos at the Rose Space Center at the American Museum of Natural History; I’ve wished upon stars (several times and still do—star light, star bright, first star I see tonight!). Yes, I knew about Space.”

“And now,” I continued (I was on a roll now!),”we have an opportunity to experience Space! Thank you, Peter Diamondis (Zero G founder and X Prize creator), Burt Rutan, and Sir Richard Branson!”

I turned to face the Arbitor, “Life changed for me when I realized I could be part of a group of people that would help others experience Space! After only 2 short days at the Kennedy Space Center (training to be an ASA), I was hooked! My life has been forever altered (Is this what Stephen Covey means when he talks about paradigm shift?) and my horizons broadened.

I reached down and pulled up Exhibit A, an illustration comparing the size of Earth to other planets, stars, universes. “Do you see this little blip over here?” I asked shining my laser pointer to a small almost invisible speck. “That is Earth! And on that speck sits billions of humans, many struggling to survive.

There are some humans, believe it or not, who are consumed with whether Prada or Be & D are the handbag of the moment, whether to buy a Mia Bossi diaper bag or trade in their old, worn diamond solitaire for a splashier Michael Beaudry bling.

So whether malnourished and starving or suffocating on self-indulgence, don’t you think we’d all benefit from learning more about the vast universe which houses our speck of a planet? Who knows, it may help us create life saving opportunities for those ridden with diseases that are currently incurable and even give the self-consumed new trinkets to add to their stash! So from the ridiculous to the sublime, the visceral to the fanciful, we must turn our attention to Space! Today I know there is so much more to learn and more to experience. So, if you are asking me to rein in my enthusiasm for Space and return to the exploits of ‘Desperate Housewives’,  ’Grey’s Anatomy’ and ‘How ’bout them Chiefs?’, I don’t think so! And besides, even the designers are getting in on the action! Aren’t you wearing one of Versace’s new space-goddess gowns?” 

After she  consulted with her committee, the Arbiter picked up her Coach bag, gathered her belongings, and walked towards the exit. “You’re hopeless!” she declared. “It’s Balenciaga! Guilty as charged!”