The Papacy...Physical Vulnerability....

     I am a Catholic.  Vacationing left me to Pope Benedict XVI's resignation only last week.  Acquaintance with likely papal candidates is now my undertaking.  Not experienced in church matters, nary a neophyte to this process.
     Who might lead the Catholic Church next?  What are his perspectives?  His visions?  What of his person-as a human being, not as anything theologically, or hierarchically?
     Learning about the selection process of bishops--according to Canon Law--is a filter for my own views--educated in the possible while open to the yet-to-be lived.
Contemplating possibilities is a passion.  Cynicism is a toxin I do my best to avoid.
     Theologian Thomas Reese provided a questionnaire sent to bishop candidates seeking basic information about the candidates to be used in decision making.
     "1. Personal Characteristics:  Physical appearance, health, work capacity; family condition, especially regarding any manifestations of hereditary illness."  [Thomas Reese, Archbishop:  Inside the Power Structure of the Roman Catholic Church, Chapter 1, pp.20-21.]
     I do not know if the questionnaire is used currently or not in the selection of bishops, or other church leaders, such as the Pope.
    Among attributes polled was "physical condition."  Living with cerebral palsy, epilepsy, essential tremors, and osteoarthritis, I am attuned to the "physical condition" aspect of evaluating church leaders.  Thomas Reese noted that "physical conditions" could be used  to disqualify men from consideration to be a bishop.
     Papal selection is a more secretive process to say the least.  Yet, I am called to evaluate the current papal selection process by Reese's "physical conditions" revelation.  John Paul II was noted to have Parkinson's Disease only in his death certificate.
     I am led to wonder.  If disclosure of "physical conditions" were the norm, who might be selected Pope?
What might physical vulnerability bring to papal leadership?
    Papal wish lists are being proffered at the pace of children's Christmas letters to Santa in December.  Many Catholic papal wish lists to the College of Cardinals at the Vatican include leadership on vital issues, such as:
    1.  Clergy sex abuse
     2.  Financial accountability and transparency
     3.  Married priests
     4.  Women's ordination
     These are but a few of the issues put forth.  All are vital.  I defer to other advocates more experienced than I to speak to these and other valid issues of concern.
     No litmus test on a single issue will lead to selection of our next Pope.  The most effective leader is a man who understands these issues.  I pray we may have a Pope receptive to Catholics, and individuals of all world religions of diverse perspectives and convictions.
     Within that context, may the College of Cardinals be open to a man who is vulnerable in spirit, compassionate in heart, mindful of understanding, and receptive in manner of being.
     Physical condition should be no more a positive selector of a new Pope any more than a negative disqualification to be Pope, or a matter seen worthy of no more note than a death certificate--as with Pope John Paul II's death certificate.
    What might the result--the possibilities--be if we opened the papacy to an exemplar of vulnerability?  What might the result--the possibilities--be if we opened the papacy who a man who understands being brought to his knees, literally, by his own vulnerability?
    [I was witness to breaths held by the physical vulnerability of a priest at Easter time.  Would the priest be able to uphold his priestly duties in his physically compromised condition?  Yet, that priest's physically vulnerable presence at Easter intensified his message far more than any words could ever have done.]
    Others offer themselves as the champions of clergy sex abuse issues, the advocates for financial accountability, the proponents of married priesthood, or the pioneers for women's ordination.  I give voice to  vulnerability--physical vulnerability.
    How might physical vulnerability humble our next Pope to understand the diverse issues, needs, and hopes of Catholics and other world citizens?  How might physical vulnerability of our next Pope reveal to each of us to live with our own vulnerabilities as human beings?

Family Crossfires

     My family is close.  Reconciled to inevitable differences present within any family.  Reconciled.  At peace.  Not seething silently.  We are blessed.  Some families are not so blessed.
     Christmas.  Christmas cards.  Childhood neighbors and friends remain close.  Some closer to me.
     Though not closest to me, two women are on my "must send" list, nonetheless.  One is blinded by sight.  The other?  Her mother--her housemate.
     The first woman is blinded by sight.  Yet, far beyond any physical manifestation of blindness, her mind has been blinded--blinded by her own volition-- to what might be possible if she believed.  No one forced it upon her.  By unbelief--by ultimate inaction--she has taken the strongest action.
     She is tragic of her own making.   More tragic is the blind ensnarement of her mother.  Imposed Catholic guilt is a joke most times funny.  This is no joke.  This is not funny.
     Born in a generation when etiquette, propriety, manners, and grace were virtues, the mother instilled these in her children.  Or, so she tried.  Through no fault of her own, Catholic guilt is being imposed on her by her daughter.  Though not privy to their conversations, there is no doubt.
     I need you.  Don't leave me alone in my blindness.  Literally.  Since my blindness imprisons me in this house, you cannot leave the house either.  Don't leave me alone.  If you dare, you will live to regret it.  I will take irrevocable action that you will live to regret.
     The mother's golden years are being held hostage.  The daughter's potential choked.  A travesty.  Imposed.  A travesty.  Self-imposed.  A travesty.
     What may I do?  Virtuous I am not.  I cannot violate the virtues instilled by my own mother.  So what can I do?
     A simple Christmas card.  Supporting UNICEF--supporting the belief of what is possible in each child's life, if we unite.  A simple Christmas card addressed to both mother and daughter.
     Merry Christmas.

Epilepsy Chronicles: In the Throes...

     I fear the worst.  My body is out of control.
     Relieve me of my consciousness.  At this moment, relieve me of my consciousness.  Help me.  God, help me. Help me to hang on.
     My right arm and leg are falling off my body.
     God, help me. ... Mom, help me.  I need you.  Mom, help me.
     Home alone, I cry as though Mom can hear me from the next room.
     Mom, help me.  I need you.
     "You will learn to live independently," she said.  "You will learn to live independently."
      My roommate is gone.  I need you.  How dare you leave me in my time of need!  How dare you leave me in my time of need.
     I am alone.  Someone has been here, always someone has been here--within earshot of my cries.  However embarrassed, or shame filled I have been that I have not taken my medicatiion, someone has been within earshot. 
     I am alone.
     Maybe if I turn on my right side, my arm and leg will stop shaking.  Maybe, they won't fall off my body.  What else can I do?
     Relieve me of my consciousness.  Let me sleep.  My head is throbbing.  Let me sleep off my throbbing headache.  My head is throbbing.   
     Finally, without my knowing, sleep is given to me.  My consciousness relieved.

A Human Inventory

    Long before computers automated the inventory process of goods, a relative inventoried the goods of several grocery stores.  Many years hence, a more sophisticated world has demanded a more advanced inventorying.  Valuations are conducted by many professionals, who begin where the automated inventorying leaves off.  Valuations established a working value by which business, or the lives of divorced individuals may move forward to more profitable--more fulfilling--lives.
    I have known two professionals who engaged in inventorying and valuations.  I find myself in the midst of a different--very humbling--sort of valuation.  I am being called to itemize how I live my daily life.
    How do I live my life?  Can I 1. perform this activity independently; 2. Can I perform this activity with the use of equipment or adaptive devices; or is it true that  I cannot perform this activity.   
   Dress;  voluntary bladder and bowel control or ability to maintain a reasonable level of personal hygiene; toilet; feed yourself with food that has been prepared and made available to you; bathe (tub, shower, sponge); transfer from bed to chair.
   I feel comfortable with each today.  Yet, it is daunting to see those very real prospects as a part of my future is akin to the decision to get a power wheelchair--to opt to receive a head rim that I could use at the time in my future when my left hand might no longer be capable of manipulating a joystick.
     That is humbling, to say the least.
    You will go to college.  You will learn to live independently.
   I answer the questions with those words in my lifelong memory.  I have achieved the first.  I continue to achieve the second.  The future?
    I know how I have lived my life until now.  I have seen deterioration of my body in the last ten years, especially in the last two years.  But, the future.  Seeing its truth presented before me in black and white--starkly--that is humbling.
    So, how do I live in the present, such that I make the fullest use of my own abilities currently?  How do I live in the present, such that I do not endanger myself--my physical capacities--for the future?  How do I live in the present such that I position myself--prepare myself--for the future, with all of its humbling prospects?
    Responding to the current valuation, I thought that my visceral response to it was the section regarding activities of daily living--ADLs.  I am not partial to any acronym--clinical jargon--that abbreviates individual human beings.  To some, activities of daily living--ADLs--is a foreign word--an unknown quantity.  To others, it is a clinic scheme used to organize the occupational therapy needs of an individual.  Yet, to me activities of daily living--ADLs--represents a test that I can still pass independently, or with some equipment, or adaptive devices.
  These are humbling questions.
  Will there be a day when I cannot perform this activity--any of the activities of daily living? 
   Dress; voluntary bladder or bowel control or ability to maintain a reasonable level of personal hygiene; toilet; feed yourself with food that has been prepared and made available to you; bathe (bath, shower, or sponge); transfer from bed to chair.  These are tasks in a list--elements at the heart of dignity.

Zoomer Chronicles: Rules of the Road

     Zoomer has asked that I share with you some basic rules of the road.  Zoomer has been very impressed with how cooperative everyone has been.  So, these rules of the road are short, and sweet.
     Pedestrians.
     First, do not block the curb cut, when you are stepping off the sidewalk onto the street.  Second, do not block the curb cut, when you are stepping on the sidewalk from the street.  Third, do not leave Zoomer lingering in the street behind you, because you are dilly dallying in the street.
     Drivers.
     Zoomer would love you if you did not park in front of curb cuts.  Zoomer won't report you to the park police should you choose to park elsewhere, and engage in other activities:)
     Automatic door openers.
     Zoomer means no offense if she declines offers of help.  She doesn't want to injure you.  If you are feeling offended, please look at the cuts and abrasions she has incurred, when she was trying to be gracious to you.  She is appreciative of your offers of help.  Righteous indignation messes with Zoomer's nervous system, so, she does not get riled up about anything.
    Elevators.
    Sometimes, Zoomer may need to refuse your invitation to join you in the elevator.  Sometimes, the elevator is too small for her to maneuver within the elevator.  She enjoys riding with you, when it is possible.

Tables Turned

     Today, I finished another chapter in setting the wheels in motion toward a different life--getting beyond my home on my own power with the use of an electric wheelchair.  Hopefully, with doctor appointments, the requisite paperwork documenting my need, the wheelchair will be forthcoming soon.  I am not sure how to define "soon."  Days?  I doubt.  Several weeks? More likely.
     Tables turned?  Why?
     I am coming to terms with the tables turned.  For a lifetime, without much thought that there was an option, I strove to achieve Mom's mantra, "You will learn to live independently."  Anyone who dared to challenge that mantra was subject to my fierce defensiveness--a side to me whose strength I underestimated.
     Fast forward to July 2009.  A new lifetime--a new life orientation--began by necessity.  Rather than pounding on my chest with pride, "Look Mom, I am living independently," I was called to testify to my need for dependency.  It was an odd, uncomfortable--humbling--position in which to find myself.  Yet, that was where I was called to live--to be.

International Atomic Energy Agency

     Fifty individuals in Japan are working to ensure that one of the nuclear reactors is contained.  At least, that is my understanding.  Tonight, a commentator familiar with nuclear power issues, which I am not, asked where the International Atomic Energy Association was in managing this situation--this dire problem.
     My question is different.  If you are familiar with my thinking, that is of no surprise:)  Yet, what is my question.
     Who makes up the International Atomic Energy Association?  When was the IAEA created?  Where is it headquartered?
    There are 151 member nations that comprise the IAEA.  It was created in 1957.  It is headquartered in Vienna, Austria.  The organization is guided by a 35-member nation Board of Governors.  The Board of Governors include countries from each occupied continent.
     Proceeding alphabetically, the member nations from Asia from 2010-2011 are: Ajerbijan, China, India, Japan, South Korea, Mongolia, Pakistan, the Russian Federation, and Singapore.
     Australia is serving on the Board of Governors currently.  It has been a member of the IAEA since its founding in 1957.     
     For the 2010-2011 period, the European Board of Governors members are:   Belgium, Czech Republic, Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Netherlands, Portugal, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.  
     Finally, Canada, and the United States are serving on the Board of Governors.  Both Canada and the United States were founding members of the IAEA.
      This may seem to be boring information.  It may not be exciting.  But, it is essential if we are to have anywhere approaching a full understanding of world affairs, and global relationships.
     My sense has been to think that the IAEA was one monolith, rather than a global consortium.
     Of concern should be the status of North Korea.  Although it was one of the founding members in 1957, North Korea withdrew its membership in the IAEA in 1994.  It is highly unlikely that under the current leadership in North Korea, that their view toward toward the IAEA will change.  Yet, when Kim Jong-il is no longer in power, will his successor take a different stance?  When a successor comes to governance, then working toward that goal seems worthy of consideration.
     It is worthy of note that Libya, Bahrain, the Ivory Coast, and Saudi Arabia are all members of the IAEA.  There is 
Similarly, both India and Pakistan are members of the IAEA.  These two countries have vast differences in their relations with one another.  Yet, those differences have not prevented them from joining forces with the IAEA.
     The price of not being aware of the other countries in our world is steep.  Afghanistan, Egypt, lran, Iraq, Libya, and Tunisia are examples of a lack of understanding the nuances of the countries--their people, ideologies, and cultures.  
     In addition to being aware of the International Atomic Energy Agency, there are other consortia worthy of our understanding.  I will explore them in future postings.  My aim is to identify what countries are members of multiple world partnerships, so as to understand how world peace may be furthered in our time.

Quality of Life

     Being a self-advocate in order to secure a wheelchair for myself--to improve the quality of my life--has led me to reflect on what quality of life is.  I guess it is not possible to establish a checklist--a grocery list--from which you may go to readily identified places, or people to secure the quality of life you are seeking.  That is tempting.  But, it is FAR from realistic.  Yet, some degree of that process must done, with the understanding that a simple checklist will not suffice.
    So, quality of life.  Recent days have brought home to me the questions--the answers to which--have guided me during the past year and a half, since I went on long-term disability.
    Quality of life.  Independence.  Movement.  Help.  Dependence.  Interdependence.  Accommodation.  Partnership.   Ankle foot orthotic.  Bone spurs.  Diagnosis.  Treatment Options.  Surgery.  Cerebral Palsy.  Health Insurance.  Handicap Accessible Doors.  Door Closers.  Family.  Friends.  Community.
    These words have punctuated my quality of life during the past year and eight months.  I am  navigating these words--these questions.  But, I am FAR from arriving at what I want.  It is hard to arrive at a point that I cannot see.  I don't remember what I want.
   Ten years ago, I enrolled in a master's degree program.  Nearly five years ago, family and friends celebrated with me the graduation as a master of library and information science.  Pictures, and a gown remind me of that woman.  Yet, I don't remember her.
   Two years and eight months ago, my 28 years of working full time ended suddenly.  I am not mourning work that I enjoyed.  I didn't.  Yet, I mourn that my determination to make the quality of that work life did not render a more fulfilling career.  I do hold precious a document I compiled--responses to a "Thank You For Your Friendship" e-mail message that I sent to 23 individuals with whom I had worked during 24 years.  These were individuals who I wanted to know what had happened to me.  I wrote the e-mail message knowing that I needed to bring a closure to the ending of a long chapter in my life.  I would not describe any of the 28 individuals as "close" friends.  Yet, we respected one another.  One of the 28 women has since been shot to death, literally, by her husband.  "A harsh ending" does not begin to do justice to the gravity of such a sad injustice.
     I return to the words of those 27 women, as I seek guidance-direction--as I seek to navigate defining phrases--Quality of life.  Independence.  Movement.  Help.  Dependence.  Interdependence.  Accommodation.  Partnership.   Ankle foot orthotic.  Bone spurs.  Diagnosis.  Treatment Options.  Surgery.  Cerebral Palsy.  Health Insurance.  Handicap Accessible Doors.  Door Closers.  Family.  Friends.  Community.
    Some questions have thrown me, and challenged every expectation of the life I can live.  Interdependence does not ring true to me.  It is contrived.  I prefer Collaboration.
     The line between Defensiveness and Willingness to Confront Necessary Realities is precarious, at best.  I don't want to be TOO willing to confront necessary realities whose time  may come to me earlier than I like--earlier than they might come to others.  The time that other people must confront necessary realities cannot be a source of embitterment to me.  That is pointless--destructive--for everyone involved.
     I called into question my own position on the Defensiveness versus Willingness to Confront Necessary Realities Teeter Totter yesterday.  I asked for more than I need at this moment regarding physical accessibility--doors that are handicap accessible.  That is my immediate need as I await getting a wheelchair.  I do make accommodations, and receive help such that a laundry room door and the door to the recycling bins do not need to be made accessible.  Logic being my guide, it seemed wise to take action while I had my courage up.
     A cold slap in the face was my wake-up call.  "By the time people reach that point [needing to have adaptations to laundry room, and parking ramp doors,] they get personal care attendants."
   "I am not ready.  I am not there yet.  I don't want to have my privacy violated--compromised."
    Defensive?  Fierce?  Stubborn?  Unrealistically independent? Unrealistic in my expectations?  Close-minded?  Narrow-minded?
    I hope not.
     Quality of life.  Independence.  Movement.  Help.  Dependence.  Interdependence.  Accommodation.  Partnership.   Ankle foot orthotic.  Bone spurs.  Diagnosis.  Treatment Options.  Surgery.  Cerebral Palsy.  Health Insurance.  Handicap Accessible Doors.  Door Closers.  Family.  Friends.  Community.
     Some issues have been solved.  Others remain.
     Quality of Life.

Dependence's Reconciliation

     What will dependence demand of me to reconcile?
     I have never been good at reconciliation--my bank account--my physical needs.  Neither have been my strengths.  I had a strong inner sense of both balances.  My bank balance has been more stable than my physical balance.  I knew the limits of both--or so I thought--so, I did not waste my anxiety on balance--on those balances.  I lived within my means--or so I thought.
     Ray--I am too young to be called "Grandpa"--spoke treasured words to me in the last years of his life.  My grandmother having died, Ray lived with us.  Listening to this beloved storyteller share his life experiences, I knew the younger alterego of this shy man had quite a temper.  He had deeply ingrained stereotypes not softened by age.  So, his words are all the more treasured.  "When I die, don't feel sad.  I have made amends with everyone I had differences with.  Ray was no scholar.  But, Ray was brilliant in his understanding of reconciliation.  I try to live by Ray's words.  Yet, I do better in reconciling with others than I do in reconciling with my self--with my body.
      My physical balance is changing.  My stamina long gone, my physical balance demands my attention.  I am called to reconcile my life's accounting--my balance of independence at one end of the teeter totter and dependence at the other end.  I have tried to brace myself for the radical changes that lay ahead.  Literally, I brace myself from my foot to my calf--you could say that I am on the right side of bracing myself.  I am physically.  Time will tell whether I am on the right side of bracing myself fully for the future.
    Physical balance demands putting one foot in front of the other.  Physical balance demands deliberation of movement.  Balanced living demands of me now deliberation of mind.
    Yesterday's step toward balance was to answer the second of three questions. "What will dependence demand of me to reconcile?"  
    My question's posing was to an independent contractor, whose product and services I was seeking.  I accepted that he had the mechanical knowledge I needed.  I presumed that to be enough to meet our mutual needs.  Yet, I was surprised to be told that I did not need to do a certain task.  He  seemed to dismiss my need.  Would the electric wheelchair enable me to open doors, get through my bedroom door, most notably?  I know my weakness for defensiveness.  I tried to disrobe myself of any defensiveness.
     I am willing to hear that I may not be able to accomplish a given task--perform a given maneuver--with this machine--with this alien entering my life.  I may not like the answer I am given.  But, I must ask the question if I am to be able to accommodate my life to a changing body.  I must receive answers.
     I may not be able to be independent as I have known myself to be for 50 years.  Yet, if I am to proceed with any semblance of independence, even if I am not, I need to know.  If all independence is taken from me, I need to know so that I make other arrangements to live differently.  For now, all of my independence is not being taken from me.  Yet, I do need to have as much information as possible to allow me to do a different form of life planning than I ever imagined.  I did not have a full appreciation of the partnership--the co-conspiratorial relationship between cerebral palsy and aging.  I could put my head in the sand.  I could ignore--deny---the issues, considerations, and questions that my future may call me to address.  But, I cannot fixate myself--every day's breath--with anxiety regarding what is to come.  I am called to acknowledge what I may not like now, while I have such a deep sense of love and support from family, friends, a worshiping community surrounding me.
      What will dependence demand of me to reconcile? 

Dignity's Pecularities

    Dignity.
    The image that comes to mind is a woman dressed in an elegant black blouse, a fuschia fabric belt, and a floral floor-length skirt.  Her gray hair is adorned with a matching long black scarf that was wound through her fine strands.  Her cheeks are patted with pink powder.  That is the surface of Mrs. Dignity.  Dignity's prescribed behavior matches her elegant gown.  A diamond ring on her ring finger makes clear, she has invested herself in a lifetime with a well-respected, hard-working man, who has provided her a comfortable life. They had the requisite three children.  Her children married.  They provided her with grandchildren for her doting.  She survived the normal ups and downs of any marriage.  Clearly, he had died, but, she did not die with him.  She rekindled an old friendship--her gentleman friend.  She has survived with a quiet air of confidence.  Her emotions are spent on her children--her grandchildren.  But, as to the challenges--the disappointments, the opportunities--life in her time did not afford, she said nothing.
    That is dignity's face in my stereotype's vision.
    I feel far from dignity's face.  Yet, something pulls at me--some vague, amoebic form that escapes my grasp, much less my firm hold.  What pulls at me is a stranger I have not met, or do not recognize, if I have met her.  What pulls at me is not for bravado's ego to claim.  At least, I don't think so.  Selfish? I may be pulled more for my self to claim.  I hope it is somewhere on the teeter totter between bravado and selfishness.  That is beyond me to know at this moment.
    Still ambulatory, I wheeled into an hourlong test drive--to test the power a chair will provide into a future whose physical boundaries I may know in this life's moment.  Perceptive rather than sensate on Myers Briggs scale, I exceed what is natural.  I write a checklist of my 730-foot condominium.  Where do I need to travel--where will I need to travel if I lose my ambulation---lose more than distance's stamina, which has been taken from me. I succeed in my inventory--my checklist for my hourlong evaluation.  I have itemized my travel needs, my task needs, and my needs for recreational pursuits in my home.  Unknown to my conscious self, I have created a three-part questionnaire for the evaluation.  First, what may I do with the power chair, now?  Second, what will I be capable of doing given practice.  Third, what will I need to ask others to do because it is beyond my capacity to do?
    I enter the evaluation with quiet confidence.  My checklist is in place.  It is in writing for my reliance.  My questionnaire is ready for the answering.  I am ready for the answers.  Or, so I think.  After all, this checklist--these answers--are at the heart of wheeling forward in my life with some semblance of interdependence.
     The checklist--the questionnaire--is at the heart of defining three terms in my future's essence.
     What will independence include?
     What will dependence demand of me to reconcile?
     How will the equation of interdependence be formulated?
     Some ask of any life's dilemmas, "What would Jesus do?"
     A different voice--a different face comes to mind.  She is in no competition with Jesus.  No.  A different voice--a different face--presents herself to me now.
    Six months before death, she sat.  Ravaged by breast cancer--by a radical mastectomy--long before medicine's advances, she sat in her manual wheelchair.  From the dining room table to the living room, her 14-year-old--her youngest--granddaughter wheeled her.  A loving, albeit overprotective life history together, she said, "I bet you never thought you would see your grandmother like this."  Though never voiced then, "No, I never did."  Now, lo these many years later, the answer of my own question's asking still is, "No, I never did."