On my way to meeting every Sunday morning, driven in my van, I go by a block that is lined with gingko trees. This block has always been a real treat in the Fall, when the gingko leaves turn brilliant gold and flutter to the ground.
It seems to me that the leaves are late in turning this year (another sign of climate change?). It has only been on recent Sundays that the leaves have begun to ever so gradually turn from dark green to pale green to pale gold to brighter and brighter gold – and Fall is just about over. A few trees have begun to relinquish leaves, while many others are stubbornly refusing to let their leaves go, as they put on an exquisitely slow changeling show. Perhaps in two or three weeks, now that the weather has finally cooled, they will finally relent, and, one Sunday, the ground will be carpeted in gold – a nice Christmas or New Year’s treat.
To my frustration, Fall, my favorite time of year, has also been stalled for me. For much of it, I wasn’t able to go out on my own, as I have loved doing these last couple years. In fact, I wasn’t able to all Spring and Summer.
Early in the year, I found that my one functioning arm – the left – was getting weaker and sometimes giving out or freezing up. Things came to a head when I was out on a warm – but perhaps not warm enough – day in February and my arm gave out blocks from home and I barely made it back home, with cars honking at me, etc – very scary.
I knew I had to do something. I decided to go all in and get a set-up that I had seen before, that allowed me to drive with my head. If I was that disabled, I may as well get what I need to live fully as someone that disabled. It didn’t make sense to try to live like I was less disabled. So I went back to Casa Colina Hospital, the local rehab hospital, and they helped me get what’s called a head array, which enables me to drive my wheelchair by pressing my head against pads.
Yes, this is huge, and I should have been really, really excited about it – and, really, I am. Yes, I should have written about it. But it turned out to be an exercise in frustration, with many delays at the hospital (for one thing, why didn’t it have the equipment on hand?) and then waiting for the insurance approval. By the time I got it in late October instead of perhaps late July, it was hard not to be bitter.
Anyway, I have really enjoyed having the head array, at least until it has finally gotten chilly here, and the best thing about it is that I don’t have to use it. I can still use my joystick. I was worried about having to use the head array all the time, which would have been a steep learning curve and difficult in tight and not-so-tight indoor spaces, but, no, I can just use it when I need it, when I get too cold, when my arm gets too tired. Until this recent cold snap, when it’s just too cold for me to go out on my own (unlike before my spinal surgery, when the cold didn’t stop me), I have been finding that I am fine using my joystick when I’m out on my own, even when it’s a bit cooler (above 70), likely because I know I have the head array if I need it. To be clear and perfectly frank, I’m not crazy about the head array – it’s is clunky and takes too much mental effort than I care to give and is one more high-tech thing that can, I fear, easily break down – but it’s nice to know that I have it.
It was frustrating that I couldn’t do this until late October. I was really looking forward to strolling around this Fall - again, my favorite time of the year – seeing the changing leaves. And it’s too bad I can’t – yet - get to the gingko block or other areas in Claremont with wonderful Fall foliage, even with having the head array (and, again, unlike before my spinal surgery, when it was something I would pass on my many outings in my chair).
But, then again, I was able to go out strolling in the blacks around my house nearly every day for a good month. Not only that, I have made it a point when I’m on these outings (and also when I’m being driven around town in my van – to and from meeting, for example) to be aware of and to enjoy the Fall colors that have been on view even in this limited range and time. This is, after all, the “city of trees and Ph.D’s,” founded by people who came from New England and decided that this town would have trees and Fall colors that reminded them of home, even among the swaying palms and desert vistas of sunny So. Cal.
This Fall, like the pandemic, has been a reminder that, sort of like those founders of Claremont and its first college, Pomona, you strive for what you want but also make the best of what you find yourself with.
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