A Glorious Day (Part 2)

This is a view of the main living area of my condo.

After all names were collected of those who were to be a part of the lottery drawing, they were placed in one of those wire enclosed tumbler type of things. Helen Schiller, Alderman of the 46th ward and the original founder of the program, was on hand to draw the names from the wire basket. Helen Schiller and I knew each other because I had been at two previous lotteries and also she was personal friends with my dear friend Marguerite. We had met at Marguerite's retirement party.

Before the names are drawn from the tumbler it  is announced which particular property is being drawn and it continues until all properties have been awarded. The first name drawn was going to be awarded that large property that included the parking space, the property that I had wanted so badly. I do not remember this as distinctly as Bill does, perhaps because I was so enthralled in the excitement of the whole thing, but Bill told me later that when Helen pulled the first name out, a smile crossed her face.

My name was the very first name drawn and it was for the property I had worked so diligently at least mentally and spiritually to achieve. I could not believe my ears. It was all I could do to hold back my tears. This had really happened, I was physically shaking from the shock of it and was awestruck with amazement. I knew this was going to happen and yet when it did, I was overwhelmed.

Let me explain this did not mean I was given the property, it meant I had this wonderful opportunity to purchase this beautiful condo at a greatly reduced price. This meant I could actually purchase a place of my own after over thirty years of paying rent!

The next few months were a struggle to find financing. I did not have great credit, it was average, and I had worked for myself for the past twelve years, my income was somewhat of an issue. After having been turned down for financing several times, I was somewhat discouraged, but determined to find a way to buy this property. Bill was very encouraging, he said remember the smile that crossed Helen's face and always remember of all the people who were at that lottery, God chose you first. Six years later I still remember that and I always will.

After finally finding a bank and a loan officer, named Cheryl Weismith, it looked as if things were finally on their way to completion. Remember this was December 2007, within six months of my purchase the entire real estate market collapsed and it is still recovering to this day. I remember Cheryl was very insistent about the "drop dead" date of December 4. I think she knew the market was on the brink of collapse and if I did not get financing by that date, there was a possibility it would never happen.

As I stated at the being of this two part blog post, there were so many things that went so rightly with such impeccable timing it is beyond coincidence, it was divine intervention. Let me explain further.

Six months after moving into my elevator building with an attached and enclosed garage, I lost my first leg. As time progressed I began to realize just how perfectly suited this condo was for the amputee I had become. There are no stairs for me to climb either into or out of my condo unit or into or out of the garage, perfect for someone in a wheelchair. I had only lived in one other elevator building in my entire life and that was 25 years earlier, every place I had ever lived since was always on the second or third floor of a walk up building.

My condo also has in unit laundry facilities, something I had never had before ever, something I desperately needed after having become an amputee. When my name was drawn at that lottery I had no idea what was going ensue in just a few months. I have since come to realize just how perfect the timing was for was about to happen to me.

I feel that it was my destiny to become an amputee, that there is a reason this happened, an inevitable fate of sorts. I feel and I will always feel that this condo was chosen for me by God as a place that despite the hardships that losing not only one leg both legs, I have a comfortable, beautiful, and well suited place to live. If you look at all that happened in order for this to take place with such perfect timing it has to be more than coincidence.

Maybe I should have called this two part blog post, " two glorious days"  because it was glorious the day my name was drawn and it was glorious the day I moved in. I made a promise to God before my name was drawn that I would never take this place for granted and I would thank him for him for it everyday.

Six years later I have kept my promise and there is not one day that goes by that I am not grateful for the blessing of my home. Thanks be to God. 

A Glorious Day (Part 1)

The photo above was taken standing on the balcony of my new condo before I moved in 2007.


 

It was 6 years ago today that I realized a lifelong dream. I moved into my condo six years ago today, I was 50 years old. I had been wanting to own my own place for decades before my wish became a reality, through a series of events too perfect to be just a coincidence.

Through the guidance and tenacity of my friend Bill I was finally able to purchase my own home. Bill found out about a program here in Chicago that was designed to allow people to purchase homes at a reduced rate. This program called  Chicago Affordable Housing, was implemented  by an Alderman in Chicago named Helen Schiller.

The program offered new properties at a reduced rate. A person is required to attend classes about first time home ownership, managing money, maintaining property and the like. Upon successful completion of the required classes and being financially qualified, a person is eligible to participate in a lottery whereby if your name is drawn, you are able to purchase a condominium at a substantially lower price than current market value.

After having completed all the required perquisites, I was now eligible to be placed in a lottery. A few weeks before a lottery is to take place you are notified and invited to tour the property or properties to be offered in the lottery. I followed all of the perscribed procedures and attended my first lottery. My name was not drawn.

A few months later I attended a second lottery. At these lottery drawings, there are usually multiple properties offered anywhere from eight to twelve, in addition to the names drawn for the properties, there are also alternate names drawn. These alternate names are used in the event the person whose name was actually drawn is unable to attain financing.

My name was drawn as an alternate in my second lottery. I really didn't think that much about it, because I felt the chances of getting a condo through the unfortunate reality of someone else not being able to get financing, was a slim possibility. A couple of months later I was notified that someone was in fact unable to get their property financed, which meant the property was offered to me. I was able to look at the property again, it was a small two bedroom, one bath unit in a high rise with no outdoor space, no parking included and a west view.


At the risk of sounding like an ingrate, and although I was excited at the possibility of home ownership, I was not thrilled with this particular property. It was small, boxy, in a large building with a doorman, not really my cup of tea. I preferred a smaller building, without the added expensive of a 24 hour doorman. I was in a quandary. Bear in mind that if I decided not to take this property it would not make me ineligible for further lotteries nor would it reflect badly upon me in any manner.

I enlisted the advice of three people. First I asked Bill what he thought of the possibility of me turning down the property? He said he felt that this was a very important decision, a decision that I should make on my own, after all I was the one who would have to live with the consequences of that decision. The  second person I asked was my friend Marguerite. She said that as long as I was prepared to live with the possibility that my name may never be drawn again, to follow my heart. She also advised that I should be prepared to cope with my decision regardless of what may happen in the future.

The third and final person I asked was my friend, Lorelei. Her advice was short and sweet, she said, "Never settle for less than what you want."  I kept thinking that although it was brand new and nice, after all was said and done, I would be alone in this tiny cracker box with no outdoor space. I turned down the property.

After a few months had gone by was notified of yet another lottery drawing. Bill and I toured all the properties, one of them I really liked was in a new complex they were building. We did not actually tour the property per se, because the models were not even completed yet, instead we met with the saleswoman, named January and looked at the artist's renderings of the property.

The last property we toured was right up the street from the other complex, when we walked in the building before the elevator had even been installed, I thought there had been some mistake. Upon entering this unit I was struck by the fact it was huge, with recessed lighting, a east facing balcony on the second floor and unlike any of the other properties, it included parking. Parking in Chicago is a very big commodity. I was flabbergasted by the size, the view, and the all important and valuable parking.

I immediately set my sights on the large condo with parking. I could not get this property out of my mind. I prayed about it, I visualized it being mine, I created a vision board, I threw all of my energy into getting this property. I used to drive by and park in front of the building and stare at the condo. At some point I had a real epiphany about this property, I knew and I felt in my heart and soul that this was going to be my new home. To this day I cannot explain the feelings and the certainty I felt within myself that this was really going to happen.

After what seemed like an eternity, which was actually a month or two, the day of the lottery arrived. When I walked into the area where the lottery was to take place, there was the saleswoman, January, from the complex we had previously viewed.  I walked up to her and I said I am walking out of here today with a condo, she smiled. I also approached a woman named Christina, she was a representative of the Chicago Affordable Housing Program, I looked at her square in the eye and I said, "Christina I am walking out of here today with a condo, I just wanted you to know."

Then we took our seats, it was exciting, a buzz with anticipation and the impending possibilities.

To be continued.......

Three Years Ago (Part 4)

This photo was taken at the Rush Medical Center outpatient physical therapy gym September 2012.

While I was still in the rehab center, Bill and our friend Michelle visited me. I was surprised and yet very pleased that Michelle had accompanied Bill, while they were with me someone walked in to take me to the in patient rehab gym. In situations like these no time is ever wasted and rehab is started immediately, I was to walk on my one prosthetic leg using a walker.

Bill and Michelle joined me at rehab and I remember Bill, Michelle, and I joined hands and she said prayer for me. It was during their visit that Michelle said to me "through great losses come great blessings." In addition to coping with monumental loss of my second leg, I was also wondering about my future and how I was going to survive financially, specifically  how I was going to keep my condo. Bill remembers this better than I, but Michelle said in a confident almost omnipotent way, "oh you are not going to lose your condo."

There are probably a whole host of other instances that occurred but these are the ones that stuck out in my mind the most and the most clearly. Eventually I returned home and began an arduous task of recuperating and putting my life back together.

One of the main reasons why I wanted to recall and explain all of these things to you is because there is a chance that there may be someone out there reading my words who is going through something similar. As difficult and seemingly hopeless as my story seemed as it was happening to me at the time, there has been life after amputation. There has been life after double amputation.

I am not going to sugar coat things and say everything is great, because it isn't, however life has progressed forward and adjustments have been made. My life will never be as it once was, nor will your life if you are living similar circumstances. This I can say, I still laugh, I still love, I still want to be loved and all of the basic human qualities remain.

Through the past three years I have grown as a person. I am much more aware of the preciousness of life,   I am thankful for what I do still have and I understand more fully that as difficult as my life may seem sometimes, there are those whose lives are even more difficult than mine. There are those who have lost even more than I and have managed to have full and happy lives.

As Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I know that I am thankful I was given the opportunity and freedom to express myself to you and that with God's grace my words will find their way into your heart and help you in some small way, be a better person, live a happier life and pass the love along.

Thank you.


*To leave a comment hit the button below, to reach me personally write to: glennartinc@yahoo.com

Three Years Ago (Part 3)

Here I am standing in front of a St Lucia sign, this is one of the last pictures taken while I still had my left leg.

As we traveled down the expressway toward Rush Medical Center, my mind was racing, my emotions were all over the place, and yet there was a calm practical aspect to all of this. I had to remember to pack things like my hairbrush, razor, and cellphone charger, after all I knew I would in the hospital for quite a while and despite the costs of a hospitalization it is certainly is not a hotel.

My assistant Frank, not a very comforting type of person, meant my conversation in the car was relegated to the practical aspects of what he was to do at my place in my absence and not much else. I could not look to him for any emotion support, his approach is much too clinical for such pleasantries as offering comfort. 

When we arrived at the emergency room, Frank offered to come in with me but I declined his offer as I knew he was much too hyper a person to play the waiting game and his being there served no purpose. In medical emergency situations I have found it to be one of the most alone periods one can endure. No one can have the surgery for you, no one can recuperate for you, no one can even genuinely comprehend what you are actually going through. 

At this stage of the game things begin to get a little foggy. I know they put me in an emergency cubicle and I was given a tranquilizer, Ativan, I definitely needed it at that point to help me cope with what was about to transpire. I do not recall whether or not they attempted to do a TPA procedure or whether is was determined to be a fruitless effort. 

At some point I called my sister, Rhonda and either she or I called Marguerite and Marguerite called Bill. Those were the only people whom I alerted right away, the others, Ruthie, Steve and others came later. Fortunately under such dire circumstances you are administered a plethora of drugs which of course drape your memories in a heavy thick fog. 

One of the last recollections I have is being in a pre-op area which is the last stop before you are wheeled into the operating room. I know Rhonda was there and either Justin, my nephew, or Erica, one of my nieces, were there and for some reason my friend, Shawn may have been there. Forgive me for not knowing exactly what occurred, if I am not retelling this exactly, those who were there can correct me and I know their account would be more accurate than mine.

I remember feeling loved and being surrounded by those who cared about me, it was a feeling of comfort and warmth. The next thing I remember is being in intensive care. The intensive care units are designed to be just that, intensive care. They are curtained off partitioned areas in one large room, void of telephones or televisions, hot, and very noisy. It is next to impossible to get any rest despite the potent drugs that were coursing through my veins.

I think at this point Christmas had already passed or was within a day or two. My sister, Rhonda had given up her Christmas to be with her brother and I hope she knows how much her sacrifice means to me even to this day. I do recall her only grandson, Max, was celebrating his first birthday on New Year's Eve and Rhonda wanted to be home for that, I insisted that she go. She had already done enough.

Normally a post-operative person without complications should only remain in intensive care for a couple of days, however, there was a shortage of available rooms in the regular part of the hospital and I was forced to stay in intensive care well beyond what was necessary. This posed a problem because as I said, it is very hot, very noisy and no privacy whatsoever.

Eventually I was given a private room on the eighth floor of the hospital, a place where I had been many times before, everyone knew me from all of my previous stays. A few things happened that really stand out in my mind.

I remember calling my dear friend, Ruth, or maybe she called me, I told her that what I had hoped would never happen, did in fact happen. I had lost my left leg above the knee, thereby making me a bilateral above knee amputee. Ruth cried. She does not normally cry, I have known her for over twenty years, we are dear friends and maybe she has cried once or twice in my presence. She cried because she knew how much this would change my life. I will never forget it.

Another incident happened after I was moved from the regular hospital to the adjacent rehab center. A friend of mine named Patrick, visited me, he and I had become friends at Cheetah gym. I remember he used me as an example to some of his less dedicated friends  about not making excuses for not working out. Anyway he was not prepared for what he saw, and I guess the full magnitude of what had happened to his friend hit him pretty hard.

I told him I would bounce back, but it was too much for him seeing me like I was, he had to leave the room. I think maybe he went to gather his thoughts, perhaps cry, I am not sure. He did come back more composed and apologized for leaving the room, I told him there was no need to apologize. This was an emotional situation for all involved, not just for me but also for those who love me.

To be continued.....

Three Years Ago (part 2)

Above  is a photo of  me sitting on my balcony drinking a protein shake after my workout taken March 2010.

Fortunately, I have always had the ability and wherewithal to bounce back from many medical procedures. After having gone through two surgeries and three total hospital stays during 2010, I enjoyed the second half of 2010 free from any impending medical procedures or complications. 

I enjoyed my 10 day cruise immensely, I was back to my routine. I will never forget Saturday December 18, 2010. I went to the gym as usual and everything was fine, I had stopped to talk to a friend near the locker room and it was then that my world began to change forever. Walking the short 150 feet from where I was talking, to the front of the gym, a clot occurred. One of the most insidious things about this hyper coagulation syndrome is that you have no warning, one minute your blood is flowing the next minute it is not, kind of like turning off a faucet.

There I was sitting on a couch in the front of the gym, terrified. I knew from past experiences what had just happened. I also knew what lie ahead for me at least in the short term and what potentially and most likely lie ahead in the long term. It took about 15 minutes for a sufficient amount of blood to reach my feet before I could walk to the car and drive home. Often times even though you have a clot,  some blood can eventually reach your extremities, the amount of time it takes varies with the severity of the occlusion, I knew this was bad.

When I finally got home my mind was whirling like a cyclone, fear, anxiety, worry, what to do, who to call, I was a mess. I had a conversation with God pleading with him to not let this be true, to let it pass or let it be my imagination on overdrive. In my heart of hearts I knew the truth, and yet I immediately went into denial, I did not deserve this, I had already been through so much, I was a good person and on and on. 

It took a lot of courage for me to do the unthinkable, remove my shoe and sock and look at my left foot. Tears were welling up in my eyes as my greatest fear was visually apparent, my foot as white and as cold as snow. No blood in my foot causing the whiteness and coldness, this had really happened. A voice in my head resonating Dr. Jacobs words, "if this bypass fails there is no where left to bypass." What that meant was I was going to lose my left leg also, I broke down and sobbed.

Always a resident in the hotel denial, I thought well maybe it will be better by tomorrow, it was one of the worse days and nights of my life. I lie awake most of the night, I slept with my left leg draped over the side of the bed letting gravity pull as much blood as possible into to my poor blood starved left leg and foot, but it was of course of no avail, a last ditch effort.

It was one week before Christmas, Bill was in Nashville for the holidays, Marguerite and Paul were two hours away in Normal Illinois and everyone in my family lived three and a half hours away in Indianapolis. I could either call an ambulance or call my personal assistant Frank. I opted to call Frank to take me to the hospital. When I called him on Sunday morning I told him what had happened and told him to pick me up in a couple of hours, I needed time to pack.

It was one of the longest and most somber car trips I had ever taken..........

To be continued.

Three Years Ago (Part 1)

Pictured above is a shot I took from the Emerald Princess cruise ship in November 2010.

It has been almost three years since the loss of my second leg. At this time three years ago I was preparing to embark on my first cruise to the Caribbean with my friend Shawn, his sister, Lisa and her husband, Dan. I was a mixture of excitement and a smidgen of angst. I had never undertaken such a trip before and having lost one leg at this point I was a little nervous. After much encouragement and reassurance from family and friends I was looking forward to the trip.

A couple of weeks before the trip I had undergone a test to check the circulation in my remaining left leg, I did not want any complications while at sea. Everything had checked out fine and I was doing well in physical therapy, in fact, I had been learning to walk with my prosthetic leg up and down sloped areas, soon I may have been able to dispense with the cane altogether. Alas, that was not to be.

I returned from the cruise on Saturday December 4, I was well rested, very tan, and excited to return to Cheetah gym and resume my everyday life. Things were going well and I was proud of my accomplishments having bounced back from the loss of my right leg just 18 months earlier. I was driving using my left leg, going to the gym 5-6 days a week and had even managed to work a couple of jobs, things were going to be just fine.

During the course of 2010 I had been battling to keep my left leg. Things took a turn for the worse December 27 2009, I had a blood clot occur during my visit Christmas 2009. My sister, Rhonda ended up taking me back to Chicago in her car and my brother- in-law, Peter, drove my car to Chicago. Fortunately my vascular surgeon, Dr. Chad Jacobs, was able to dissolve the clot through a procedure called a TPA. Again in April 2010 another clot appeared this time, however, the clot was not able to be dissolved and a bypass was performed. 

I remember while recovering from the  bypass my surgeon advised me he was not particularly pleased with my bypass and wanted to redo it so that it would hopefully last longer. I was upset and said I wasn't sure my body could withstand much more invasive surgery. He assured me that I was in fact physically capable of undergoing further surgery. We decided to redo the surgery in June. In May the veins occluded again unexpectedly, and I went in to have yet another by pass, this time something that had never happened before, occurred, compartment syndrome.

Compartment Syndrome is what happens when too much blood rushes into your veins too quickly and can rapidly cause your veins to burst. The emergency solution is to make long cuts into your legs to allow the proliferation of blood to escape. This procedure was performed successfully and allowed me to dodge the bullet and keep my leg.  I will continue this in my next post........

Being Oblivious