Friday, July 7, 2017

July 7, 2017    In Honor of my Friend Martha

        As I walk with you together and sometimes only in the thoughts we share in the quiet of our minds, we are together.  Now we share this breast mastectomy club we are in together.  You being too young and beautiful, how could this have happened?  Well it did and the heck with it, as you are coming to terms with it as I did five years ago.  Does this make it easier, NO.  Instead we now encourage one another.
       Your choice to use the COLD CAP takes the bravery and strong determination only you have. You had your first Chem with the cap on yesterday.  My!  It was an bid thick cap looking thing filled with heaving dry ice.  I remember you saying the temperature went down to  -30 degrees.  You wore it during Cemo and also for four hours later in the afternoon.  I will never forget the photo you sent me.
        I and everyone that knows you gives you a badge of courage...you are now A WOMEN OF VALOUR, my dear friend MARTHA.....Thanks for Stan's continued support..and getting that ice cracked and hugs and coffee you love.  
        Much love and hugs to you both.
        Your pal, your Mother , Aunts and cousins and Cat,
         Phyllis





Saturday, November 19, 2016

Friends Give Courage To One Another.

I have always come away with a visit with one of my friends covered with courage, comfort and kindness. We meet in a common comfortable restaurant just my friend and me.  The glow came over me, just to see her face.  I knew I was welcomed.  We could both be ourselves.  Sharing our moments since our week gone by.  We each have a daughter and son.  We each have grown grandchildren .

My friend was going on a trip with her daughter to meet her granddaughter in England.  She showed me a recent photo of her granddaughter, with pink hair.  I thought this was cool.  What a creative girl she is.  My friend then told me she was majoring in environmental savings.  How thankful I became this charming girl with the pink hair will surely save the water from covering Florida in twenty-five years.

We talked about our aging issues.  Me just having siatica disc surgery and immediately getting rid of that horrible pain and being able to walk right away.  What a miracle.  At eighty-three every thing becomes a miracle.


My daughter at sixty-one and her daughter is a few years younger.  We both shared some of the things we hoped to journal for our daughters.  Did I tell my daughter all those tid-bits about my Grandmother?  No.

Our food and coffee was just something we picked at.  Our real food was each other.  We pulled out our phones, so we could put down our next brunch time.  Next Tuesday sounded perfect.  Always on Tuesday @ 10:30 a.m.


Sunday, April 3, 2016

April 3, 2016.          The Winter  Of My Life
     What does it mean, the Winter of My Life?  For starters, I am no Spring Chicken as my Mom would have said.  Instead, I am at a peaceful time of life. Contentment has come over me.  It is my pleasure to help others.  To listen with all ears and heart.  The most important thing about this life is I must recognize the humility and gift of others.  In doing so I always get a comfort in return, like all is well with the day and the moment.  
     It seems others are never told how valuable they are.  How beautiful they are.  How important they are.  What a pity.  Never mind I always find something about them that is special and I tell them so.  I loved telling my friend how special and pretty she was.  Her face got red.  I told her if she did not believe me, go into the bathroom and look in the mirror .
     When I think my next birthday will appear on May 6, 2016 when I will be eighty-three. If
I live seven more years I will be Ninety.  Now we both know that is impossible, with my health background.  It encourages me to be that much kinder and caring of those I meet as they are my gifts.  How lucky can I be.  Did you ever hear of such a funny person like me?
phyllisreh@aol.com
            
April 3,2016.  
  The Sky Is Falling
Henny Penny is falling and I am in the midst of it all.  The articles on the facts that more people die from falls than anything else.  Sure, I have read these articles since I was forty.  This is a topic we talk about over a glass of wine.  At this moment I am in the storm of all of it.  My friends are falling.  Just yesterday I learned my friend slipped on some oil on the garage floor.  She is now in a brace.  She recently helped her husband back to health after a year of events from a fall.  He has finally mended after a lot of surgery and thearapy .  Then the phone rang and another friend said she was unable to attend class we go to, as she fell face down at a large outdoor event.

It seems this is the tip of the ice berg, the after mats of falls, the new norm?
phyllisreh@aol.com


Monday, November 16, 2015

My Echo Cardiogram Results

     The nurse called with the results of my Echo Cardiogram.  "You have the same leaks as last year."
"Leaks?"  The plural was more pronounced than last year.  Quick get the IPad .  Sure enough a photo of the heart appeared with four valves.  Where was my leak?
       The nurse was available on my next telephone try.  My question was, "which one of the valves is leaking?"
        "All of them."  This is too funny.  I should be dead.  "No, no, many people have the same thing.  You can excersise and go about your business in the same way.  Nothing to worry about.  In fact, I have the same thing.
        "My Dear, if you were going to drive to Alaska  in your car.  You would take it in and have it all checked.  Soon they found out your tires all had mild leaks.  Would you continue with your plans or what?"
           " Just go on with your life as before."  My silent response screamed.  11/16/2015. Phyllis Rehmar.  www.women70andover.com. 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Mass General Hospital Boston/Voice Center

     October 28, 2013 was the date of my recent surgery to restore my raspy voice to the strong sound of a voice similar to a baseball empire.  This all came about because of the condition of my voice due to thyroid cancer when I was thirty.  After fifty years of a voice that was almost a whisper to a miracle of strength.  I can yell, "I have a new voice!"  What a miracle.
     This all came about because of Julie Andrews and Dr. James Burns of the Boston Voice Center and the New York Times article on the Voice Center.
     After making my appointment and going up to Boston I learned I was a candidate for the surgery.  My good friend, Gwen Kotler became my care giver also and went with me.  I was to be there maximum of two weeks and a minimum of one week.  All according to complications.
      I was on the operating table for 2 and one half hours, just like my surgeon, Dr. James Burns said.  There was no pain.  He got to the vocal cords by slitting my neck open.  I had twelve stitches.  All went well.  I was up during surgery, so the doctor could tweak the voice.  I was in no pain.  I was euphoric with joy and as loud as a baseball empire!
     After fifty years to have a strong voice.  This was a true gift from the  skilled surgeon's big perfect hands.  This is eighty-year old heaven on earth.  Thank-you Dr. Burns.  Phyllis Rehmar phyllisreh@aol.com  
     

    






Sunday, August 4, 2013


8/4/2014                          What Next?    

 

Changing the bed.  Why not take the mattress cover off and wash it.  After I took it off it became large and thick and puffy.  Oh well.  The water started bubbling in the wash machine.  I was laboring stuffing the "thing" in the water.  Ah ha.  I called for my husband.  We almost got it in together.

 

We both looked down at the floor at the same time and wondered why our feet were wet. Water was pouring out of the bottom

of the wash machine.  "Let’s  get this thing out of here into a garbage bag."  When I opened the garbage bag it was too small.  We carried it to our large garbage type thick container in the garage.  We felt comfortable we got rid of our problem.

 

The garage door was open to the hall inside the house where the wash machine and water was gushing out.  I turned the wash machine on spin.  It did get the remaining water out of the machine.  Yes?  No.

 

We then began sharing a squiggly mop and I with the broom to sweep the water from the house area to the garage.  Just like dominos I then had to sweep the water out of the garage floor.  We had to pull the wash machine out of its position and clean behind it.  We had a large fan in place to help dry the tile floor.

 

After that area was clean.  I thought we might as well pull the dryer out and see if any of the water had gone under it.  There was nothing wet under the dryer.  Instead there was dirt, a thick lone sock and a wash rag.  I can clean that up in a minute.  I got the vacuum.  The dirt which came up easily, so did the sock and wash cloth, making the vacuum stuck and silent.  This was a mess.  We both continued to have intervals of heavy laughter.

 

My husband was thrilled.  He could now get to use his new wonder drill.  He hummed.  I laughed.  He unscrewed the hose from the machine and got the sock and wash rag out.  Gee, what a great man.  I will never say,  "What do you need a new drill for?"

 

With the hose in place he quickly found he missed attaching a small rubber circle that should have gone on first .  So he had to use his new found wonder drill again.  I was laughing more at this point.  Poor man.

 

We both were laughing.  This is what people do when they are eighty and eighty-five.  Stuff happens!       Phyllis Rehmar       www.women70andover.com