Wednesday, September 28, 2016

What's Your Sign?

Have you heard that your long-held beliefs about your astrological sign may be wrong?

NASA broke the news early this year in a blog post that explained that when ancient Babylonians created the zodiac over 3,000 years ago, they wanted dates on the calendar to correspond with star constellations. But, there were 13 constellations, and they were working with a 12-month calendar. So they ditched the zodiac sign Ophiuchus.

NASA also pointed out that the Earth's axis doesn't even point in the same direction as it did when the original constellations were drawn, so all our signs have different date ranges now anyway.

I checked out the new date ranges and, whew!  I am still an Aquarian.  My whole life I have excused my unorganized lifestyle, my creativity, my emotional eccentricities and lots of other things, good and bad, on the fact that these are typical of Aquarians and that I am merely a victim of my astrological sign.  So I am happy to know that is still my sign.  But the sign of Aquarius is now February 16 to March 11, which means that Walt, too, is now an Aquarian, which may explain the second floor of our house. 

Likewise our neat and tidy and organized Ned, who is a stereotypical Virgo is still a Virgo.  But what does that do to my mother, the original stereotypical Virgo, whose birth date now puts her in the Leo sign.  Are Leos also as compulsively neat and tidy, as she is?

Jeri is no longer a Taurus, but an Aries.  Tom is no longer a Cancer; he's now a Gemini.

In truth, I don't follow astrology.  At all.  Though I will occasionally check out my horoscope for the day, mostly for laughs, but I certainly don't make life decisions based on my horoscope.

 Interestingly, though, a co-worker many, many years ago was heavily into astrology and wanted to do my chart.  She was very excited about her findings, most of which I couldn't understand, but it was interesting how many points in this chart were so true of the "me" I am.

Be comforted all you Ophiucus people, who are now trying to figure out who and what they are.  "Ophiuchus people have Scorpio’s magnetism and sexual allure. They are dream interpreters, passionate and jealous."

House Ophiuchus represented Unity. Its people were spirited, magnetic, impulsive, clever, flamboyant, and at times jealous, power-hungry, and temperamental. At their hearts, they were healers who hoped to one day rid the Zodiac of every ill—disease, violence, etc—and bring everyone closer together.

Ophiuchans had a natural affinity for snakes, and there was a special species of serpent, the Zawinder, with whom their House’s Zodai developed a psychic connection. Each Zodai would capture and adopt his own Zawinder, which they would then use to spread messages to others in the swamp.

It's a whole new world for a whole bunch of people.  I wonder if the guys who write horoscopes are now going to adjust their signs and welcome Ophiuchus into the family.  I goodness.  What if an Ophiuchian doesn't know what is going to happen to him on any given day?

Other than searching the zodiac, I spent the day transcribing the tape of an interview I did.  I've actually been working on it for a couple of days.  It's the behind the scenes story of the writing of the play we are seeing tomorrow night, about soldiers in the field in Afghanistan and their experiences.  It should be a riveting play.

But in the evening, I received the most amazing email from the patient coordinator at Atria.
Hi Bev, we all have noticed Mildred would benefit from having a walker. Mildred loved it and had no pain while she was using it as a trial for the escort to dinner yesterday.
Mildred LOVED it????  The coordinator, of course, had no idea that this is something I've been trying to get her to agree to for three years.  With the severity of her back problems, I knew that a walker would help her, but could I get her to even think of one?  No way.

From the first day, she looked down on "all those people using walkers."  (Now, of course, she has forgotten the word "walker" and dismisses them as "things.")

I have tried to trick her into realizing that a walker would help by taking her shopping and, when she complained about her back pain, suggesting she push the shopping cart and kind of transfer her weight to the cart, relieving the pressure on her back.  She agreed that yes, that did help, but when I pointed out that this is the benefit she would get from a walker, she refused to push the cart any more.

I have tried suggesting she use my cane when she was having difficulty walking.  In truth, most of the time I am fie without it, though my balance is getting weird, so it's a safety measure, and I don't know that I could climb stairs any more without a cane or banister. 

She did try the cane and admitted that it helped, but almost immediately gave it back to me like it contained poison and told me that I needed it and I should use it and how lucky I was to have fond something that helped.

So to hear now that "Mildred loved it" made my jaw to slack. 

Of course, I suspect there is a lot of people pleasing involved in that.  She looks on the people at Atria as her bosses and, always wanting to do the right thing, if they suggest she use a walker, I can see that she would readily agree, without admitting her true feelings about it.

Another perk of having her on assisted living.

I told Melissa that we would give her a few more days to get used to the idea and if by next week she is still accepting the idea of using a walker to walk, I would go out and shop and get her her very own walker.

I have always thought that if she had a walker with a seat on it, she could actually get out and DO things.  I don't take her anywhere now because she has to stop so often and sit down.  But if she brought her seat with her, things might be different.

Walt was in the Bay Area with the car yesterday, so I didn't go to Atria, but I will go over today and I am going to be very curious to see how our visit goes and whether she will mention the walker.  I won't bring it up, but will let the Atria people deal with it with her.

I decided long ago that she is so damned independent and so proud of her not needing any assistance whatsoever that if she ever had to use a walker or wheelchair, she would just curl up and die.

But maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for her.  I am holding my breath and being cautiously optimistic.

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