Saturday, October 19, 2019 
I have created a hierarchy of tasks included in my exceptional exit plan. The most important task is creating video and written messages for my family. The second most important task is to keep my seven-year-old daughter, Mika, happy and in the dark for as long as possible. The third most important task is to build a strong base for Mika’s YouTube channel. The fourth most important task is to make sure my family has all my login information to accounts and can access any information they need. The fifth most important task is to declutter my home. Any other tasks I deem relevant are not likely to get done.
 
Yesterday Mika had a day off from school and I am working to have as many enjoyable experiences together while we still can. Yesterday was free day at the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center. Mika likes the Fine Arts Center, so I invited a friend, Crystal, to meet me there with her daughters. When I invited Crystal to meet me at the Fine Arts Center, she told me about her regular Friday play date friends and proceeded to text her friend to see if her friend wanted to come with her kids.
 
I guess I was a little dense the day I asked Crystal (It was just a few days after Dr. Doom and Gloom told me of my impending doom.) because my takeaway was that Crystal and her kids were going with her friend and her kids to the Fine Arts Center, and Mika and I could make our own plans. I, of course, made other plans with Mika for yesterday. We would kick back at home, record the last few book-reading videos for the first season of Mika Rocks Reading, and sort some of her toys for donation, keep, or toss.
 
Thursday evening Crystal emailed me asking for the address of the Fine Arts Center and wanted to know if 10:30 was a good time to meet. I replied that I thought she was going with her Friday friend (Mika and I are Crystal’s occasional Monday friends.) Crystal replied back that she thought all of us were meeting. That situation made so much more sense than my takeaway.
 
Yesterday, Mika and I met Crystal and her daughters, and a new friend and her three children for a play date at the Fine Arts Center. The videos and toy sorting can wait; those tasks are three and five on my list. Mika and I would have a happy day with friends instead.
 
Our newest friends included a six-year-old girl who might be a little more active than Mika, if that is possible. I spent a lot more time telling Mika to behave than when we went alone, but she was having a good time.
 
We noticed a courtyard with tables for eating that Mika and I had not seen in July. Since it was sunny and not windy, after we had taken the children through the displays, we went to the courtyard to eat our lunches. The courtyard was a beautiful square with green grass in the middle, tables on the concrete square, and lots of outdoor art to be admired. The children chased each other around on the grass for almost an hour.
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My piece of advice to you is to not let your feelings get hurt by misunderstandings. I could have been mad at Crystal when I thought she took my suggested play date idea to use with another friend (right in front of me). Instead, I made other plans and moved on. I was also willing to change those plans back and acknowledge my mistake. Now we have new friends we may play with when Mika has a Friday off school.
 
Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Friday, October 18, 2019
A few days ago, I had a complete creative crash. I have had complete creative crashes in the past. They usually last about three days and then are gone as suddenly as they came. When I have a complete creative crash, it feels as if my creative soul has been sucked out of my body. My mo has no jo.
 
I have never figured out where my complete creative crashes come from and they never come at a convenient time. I generally get a complete creative crash once or twice a year. I have not had one for at least a year. I am guessing the reason I have been CCC-free for a while is because I have not been doing very many creative tasks. When I stripped by business back last year to treat my cancer, I stuck to mostly non-creative work for my clients.
 
The bad timing of my complete creative crashes always makes me wonder if my subconscious is trying to tell me something. I am a super-positive person and Denial is my best friend (Dr. Doom and Gloom told me I was delusional). I have worked very hard during the years since my automobile accident to learn patience and keep my stress level down. There are still a few triggers that can raise my blood pressure (most of them related to my seven-year-old); however, very few arrows can get past my shield.
 
A few weeks after I came home from my initial automobile accident rehabilitation, I passed out and woke up in a hospital two days later. Apparently, I had been conscious and talking to people in the hospital the day before; however, I did not remember any of those conversations. The doctors decided since they were unable to locate a medical reason for my blackout, it must be psychological.
 
The doctors told me I was dealing with the fact I had been paralyzed way too well and my subconscious brain had to grieve. I do not know if that diagnosis was correct, but it has planted a thought in my head that sometimes my brain has its own agenda. I wonder if my complete creative crashes are my brain dealing with the stress I brush off.
 
I know there is stress associated with my terminal diagnosis; the eye-welling incident from yesterday proves that. Yet I still emulate my favorite song, “I am a rock. I am an island. Cause a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries.” I have simply created a process to get through my compete creative crashes instead of thinking about or stressing out now that writing 500 words every day is part of my exceptional exit plan.
 
I am writing the original text of this journal using Microsoft Word. The font style and size I use allows for approximately 600 word per page, so I have a nice guide. At the beginning of the month I created a separate file for each day in October. Most days I write about the day before. Today I am taking my seven-year-old to the Fine Arts Center to meet friends and look at art, and I will write about that trip tomorrow, so I wrote Fine Arts Center in the file for that day to remember to write about it.
 
On those days I was unable to write due to my complete creative crash, I simply wrote a few words or sentences about the thought I wanted to express and closed the file. A few days later I went back and wrote the full entry for those days when my mind was willing.
 
My piece of advice to you is not to stress when life does not fit your plans perfectly. Many years ago, when I had accumulated a lot of credit card debt, I created a three-year plan to be debt-free. It took me four years to complete that three-year plan. Other than my mortgage, I have been debt-free for the 15+ years since.

Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Thursday, October 17, 2019
Yesterday I attended an event for one of the business-women’s networking groups I belong to. I joined this group last year, right before I found out I have cancer. I attended this group’s events while I was treating my cancer more often than the other two groups I frequent; however, I was not really in the “connecting” mood and did not mingle much with the women I did not already know.
 
Because I have not “connected” with group, I did not feel the need to kill the mood (like I did last week) by announcing my terminal diagnosis to the entire group. I did tell one woman that I have been planning to connect with for a couple months, and the managing director, who was already a friend of mine from a previous group.
 
I am still internally wrestling with my plans for future business networking. Until yesterday, I had decided I would continue to go to the group I have been a member of for 10+ years and discontinue the other two groups. I went to the event yesterday with the primary purpose of telling the managing director it would be my last meeting. Now I am not so sure; I may continue to go to two group’s events.
 
The managing director, and the other woman I told, both asked how they personally, and the group as a whole could help me. I told them both I am not ready for help right now. I am still healthy and could still live for several years (Although Dr. Doom and Gloom sure did not make many years sound very possible.). I have decided I have at least three years to execute my exceptional exit plan.
 
The task in my exceptional exit plan most conducive to outside help is attacking my mountains of clutter and I told both women decluttering would be the task for which I will ask for help. I will be dedicating one or two days a week to clearing my physical clutter. I started a few days ago and had one day this week for decluttering. A friend and I spent about three hours sorting and packing some of my 24-year-old daughter’s items since she has bought a house and is moving out. I expect it will take about four weeks to pack my daughter’s stuff and move it to her house so it will probably take me two months.

The next step in my clutter clear-out plan is to get my seven-year-old daughter’s stuff donated, tossed, and moved into her new room. My younger daughter, Mika, has been sharing her big sister’s room for the past year; however, all Mika’s clothes and toys have been living in my lower level great room. I expect it will take me two months to get Mika’s bedroom in order so it will probably take me six months.
 
Other people’s stuff will likely take me eight months to get straight. That leaves me 28 months to clear out my gear. Right now, 28 months seems like plenty of time; however, life will surely get in the way. The new chemotherapy I start next month may make me too sick to function. One of my two decluttering helpers may need to stop helping me. I may not live three years. I will need (and ask for) help.
 
I could make decluttering more of priority now, however decluttering is not the only part of my exceptional exit plan. I am almost ready to start recording videos for my family to watch after I pass. I have been waiting to make sure I have a strong grip on my acceptance of my fate. I do not want to be crying once I start talking to my future-aged children. I do not think I can record and not cry yet.
 
I am going to test my non-crying resolve next weekend. The only time I was even close to tears when I told everyone I had cancer last year was when I told my mother. It took me a couple of minutes to regain control during our phone conversation and I expect it will be much worse when I tell her I have almost reached my expiration date.
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My piece of advice to you is to pick the one priority in your life. I know we have more than one important part of our lives; however, I would rather leave my family videos of me talking to them and telling them how proud I am of them than a clutter-free house.
 
P.S. I know I am still not tear-free because Mika just said to me as I was writing that last sentence, “Mom. Do you know I love you?” Now I have a tightness in my throat and water in my eyes. But I am NOT crying.
 
Until next time,
Susanne
 
Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Wednesday, October 16, 2019 
Almost every morning when my seven-year-old, Mika, and I walk to school, we stop at a specific spot to admire the mountains. We have been stopping to admire the mountains on the way to school since Mika started kindergarten. I usually say, “Look at the beautiful place we live. We are so lucky.” and Mika usually takes a drink of water, then agrees with me. This morning I rolled past our place and Mika called to me to stop. She loves to admire the mountains as much as I do.
 
I have loved Colorado since I was a child. I was raised in Nebraska and many years we would visit family friends who lived in the Denver area. I loved looking up at the mountains and said when I grew up, I was going to live in Colorado so I could look at mountains every day.
 
I did grow up and move to Colorado; however, some days I forget to look at the mountains. You may wonder how that is possible. Colorado Springs is right along the mountain range. If we drive 20 minutes we are on the mountains. There are very few places in town you cannot see the mountains and that is usually because you are walking on the east side of a building.
 
Mountain views are everywhere here, so how can I forget to look? It is not that I do not see the mountains; I do not notice the mountains. I have sat at a bus stop near my house for possibly 1,000 times in the past several years. Three weeks ago, I realized there is a spectacular, expansive view of the mountains from that very spot. The bus stop is not any different; the mountains did not suddenly turn rainbow colors and sprout flashing lights. The only difference was me, noticing.

When I am at that bus stop, I am looking down the street for my bus, reading a book, shivering in the cold, or several other tasks that I am focusing on at any given time. What I am not doing is simply looking around for the beauty in the area. That preoccupation has caused me to miss out on 1,000 small moments of joy.
 
As part of my exceptional exit plan, I am looking for as many of those small moments of joy I can find and share with others. My hair has started growing back from my recently completed chemotherapy treatments and it is soooo soft. I rub my head several times a day and smile. It feels like baby chick hair. When I go to my networking events, I invite others to rub my hair and the people who do rub it always smile.
 
My piece of advice to you is to choose one thing you see nearly every day that you can focus on for 30 seconds that brings you joy. Is there a beautiful tree you can see from your office window that makes you smile? Do you cross a bridge on your commute and love to look at the water? Do you walk past a playground and like to listen to the laughter of children?
 
1,000 small moments of joy at a bus stop. 1,000 small moments of joy at a stop light. 1,000 small moments of joy walking to school. Those small moments start to add up when we get out of our heads and notice what is around us. The more joy you seek in your life, the more joyous you become.

Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Tuesday, October 15, 2019
Today I was able to complete jury service. In Colorado we have a “One day, one trial.” rule. This means your name is taken out of the hat for 12 months once you have reported for jury service whether or not you are selected for a jury. In El Paso county I think jury selection days are only on Mondays. I could be wrong, but the four summons letters I have received all said to report on a Monday (Except this one, which said to report on Tuesday. Monday was a holiday.).
 
There were about 300 of us in a large room. You walk in and proceed to the front desk to give the clerk your juror registration form. I confess, even though I looked at that notice several times in the three weeks I had it, I completely missed the section covering half the page that read, fill this out. When I got to the clerk and told her I did not fill it out, I was told to fill that section out and get back in line when I was done. I told her it would not be legible and moved to the side to fill out the form.
 
When I finished, I got back in line and this time was helped by the other clerk. She looked at my atrocious handwriting, handed me a juror questionnaire, and said, “Please fill this out as best you can.” I looked at the clerk, then looked at the form I had filled out that she was still holding in her other hand. I simply started laughing. The clerk laughed too, and I rolled out of way so she could help the next person.
 
Once the rush of people arriving was finished, I went back to the clerk and asked if I could get assistance completing my juror questionnaire. She looked at the other clerk who said they could not help even though I do not write legibly. That other clerk told me to write my name on the top and sign it; the judge would ask me the questions if necessary.
 
A judge came into the room to thank us for our service, looked at a white board with names on it, and let us know there were five judges that might be seating juries today. She said many of the judges wait until they are ready to vet jurors before calling us upstairs, because there are bathrooms and vending machines in the big room we were in, and the judges want us to be comfortable. The judge also said some cases set for today may have been settled or get postponed, so they will not need juries.
 
About 45 minutes after the judge spoke, I noticed a clerk erasing a couple of judge’s names from the white board. Since the clerks had not called any numbers yet, I asked the clerk if erasing the name meant that judge did not need a jury today. She said yes.
 
I figured I would still be called because I was number 609 and the numbers started at 600. There were still two judge names on the list for another 30 minutes, then the other clerk erased a name. Less than a minute later the first clerk grabbed the microphone and announced the fifth judge had just reported and did not need a jury. The entire room of potential jurors was released at 10:30. Woo hoo!
 
My piece of advice to you is to look for learning opportunities everywhere you go. I had plans today that I needed to cancel to complete my jury service. I could have been a grumpy complainer; instead, I observed and asked questions along the way. The last time I reported for jury service, I never noticed a board with the judge’s names listed. I felt more invested in the process today because I paid attention.

Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Monday, October 14, 2019
The great de-Meganing of my house has begun! “What does that mean?” you may wonder. Let me tell you… My twenty-four-year-old daughter, Megan has been living at home since she graduated high school, other than a semester away at college. Do not get me wrong, I love Megan living in my house. She does quite a bit of my personal care so the convenience of her being under my roof is unmatched.
 
Megan told me a few years ago that she wanted to live here until she was able to buy her own home. I supported that goal and never charged her rent so she could save for a down payment. The part of her living here that was very difficult to deal with was her mess. This is partly the pot calling the kettle black. I have way too much stuff; I am the first to admit it.
 
A lot of my problem is the garage sale trap. I am happy to get rid of something I no longer use nor plan to use again (I am on round three of getting rid of kid’s stuff.). For some reason I think I need to get money for all my old stuff, so I would have a garage sale, sell five to ten items, make about $20, and then pack all the hundreds of unsold items in bins and keep them until the next time. The past couple of years I have been too sick to have a yard sale and the unused stuff keeps accumulating.
 
Last year I admitted to myself that most of my unused stuff is junk that nobody probably wants. My friend’s (Crystal) daughter needed community service hours for a merit badge so Crystal brought her daughter to my house one day a week for a few weeks while I was on bed rest.
 
Crystal would go down the little hill to my lower shed and bring boxes and bins into my bedroom. Her daughter would show me all the items individually for me to decide whether I was keeping them or donating them. Crystal would then repack the items and take them to a charity her daughter’s troop was collecting items for. Using this method, we cleaned out about 80 percent of the contents of the shed and donated about 80 percent of those items.
 
My sister came from Missouri at the beginning of the summer and we got the rest of the items out of the shed. I have since put the medical items I wish to donate in the loft in the shed, because I do not know where to donate them yet so the items will be used and not tossed because no one at the thrift stores knows what the items are for. In July I also put in two boxes of Megan’s stuff, a mini refrigerator, and a fan that she was not using as I started moving her excess items to the shed in anticipation of her moving out sometime in the next year or two.
 
At the end of July Megan went under contract to purchase a house so I quit trying to get her clutter out of my clutter. It is now the middle of October and Megan has been too busy to move very much of her stuff, so I have started packing it up today. Megan is leaving this week for a couple of weeks and I hope to have most of her stuff packed (and maybe even moved) when she gets back. Today we have one box sealed and ready to go, and two boxes of clothes sorted. It is a start!
 
My piece of advice to you is to remember, stuff gets in the way of life. I have spent hours in the past looking for items in my home. I am going to spend a lot more hours clearing my clutter now, however I can clear it (with help from friends) while my family is at work and school. I will not be leaving my family any money when I die; I can give them back the hours they would spend dealing with my mess.

Until next time,
Susanne 

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Sunday, October 13, 2019 
Today we had a family day. Family day for us generally means my significant other, Donald; our seven-year-old, Mika; and me. Our two older children are grown and although our older daughter would love to tag along many times, her work schedule does not permit it.
 
We have been working to do more family activities even before my terminal diagnosis because I had been sick so long before my cancer was found. I was on bed rest for most of the year preceding the cancer discovery, so Donald and Mika did a lot of activities together and, when I felt better this past summer, Mika and I did activities since her dad was working.
 
Donald and Mika loaded my wheelchair on the back of the truck, and we drove to Denver for the Rocky Mountain Hobby Expo. I love expos and Mika likes them if there are lots of kid-friendly activities. Donald does not usually like expos. We all went to Colorado Springs ComicCon in August and he hated it. Next year Mika and I are going alone. However, going to the Rocky Mountain Hobby Expo was Donald’s idea so we agreed.
 
The Rocky Mountain Hobby Expo had remote control cars, model kits for military vehicles, gaming supplies, model trains, and quite a bit more. Because the theme of the show was so broad, there were booths that interested each of us. They even had a decent kid’s activity area; however, Mika was not feeling that kid’s section because she had already found the one area that made the drive worth it to her.
 
Mika loves LEGOs. She plays with them for hours each week. We have so many LEGOs at home, her dad wants me to quit buying her sets. For the record, during the past year I have only bought the 2018 and 2019 LEGO advent calendars and one set for last Christmas. The rest of the sets from the past year were other Christmas and birthday gifts.
 
The Denver LEGO User Group had set up a massive display of completed kits and original dioramas approximately 40 feet long. There was a town with a light-rail train circling around it. The group had a large diorama set on the planet Hoth from Star Wars. There was even a Taj Mahal. The displays were very impressive.
 
Mika did like the displays; however, it was the 20-foot section of loose blocks set up for children to play with that captured her attention. Mika spent more than half the time we were at the expo at those LEGO building tables. She challenged one of the adults to a Minecraft building contest and persuaded another adult, Todd, to build creatures from Bionicle/Hero Factory parts. Todd even played a silly, seven-year-old’s idea attack game with the creatures they made.
 
Mika had a blast and we had to almost drag her away to leave. We stopped by a hobby shop Donald frequents when he goes to Denver and ate at a nearby restaurant. A good time was had by all.
 
My piece of advice to you is to find those activities you can all find some pleasure in and be willing to compromise. Donald has never had the endurance I have for these types of activities. When we go to an amusement park, I want to be there when it opens and when it closes; Donald does a few hours and wants to go home. If it had been just Mika and me at the expo, we would have stayed a couple more hours. Since Donald was with us, we stayed about three hours, long enough for us to have a good time yet not so long that it ruined the day for Donald.
 
Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Saturday, October 12, 2019 
On August 9th, I had an appointment with my oncologist (Dr. Doom and Gloom). He told me all the points they track for cancer recovery looked great. I could switch to quarterly post-chemotherapy checkups. I was thrilled. I had been doing weekly blood draws, chemotherapy treatments, doctor visits, and several hospital stays for the past eight months. I was completely over the commitment cancer required.
 
I felt great. I liked more foods and was eating well, my cancer marker number was down, and my scans looked great. I shouted to everyone I was cancer free and could take control of my life again. In October I got a death sentence. What happened in two months?
 
August 27th was an ordinary day. I do not remember what I did, and I felt fine all day long… until about 9:00 p.m. I was lying in bed and started feeling queasy. I threw up about 10:00 p.m. and was relieved it looked like normal puke instead of the weird-looking stuff that had hospitalized me twice recently with bowel obstructions. No such luck. Many hours (and pukings) later I was in the emergency room and they were once again putting a tube down my nose and testing for a bowel obstruction.
 
On August 30th I had surgery to remove scar tissue that was wrapped around my bowels and the surgeon saw more cancer. Fridays are a surgery day for Dr. Doom and Gloom, so my surgeon called Dr. Doom and Gloom into my surgery so he could see what was going on first-hand.
 
The next day, the surgeon told me there was still a lot of cancer in my body and the cancer was tiny, inoperable flecks all over. I choose to envision a picture of the stars across the night sky and all the stars are my small flecks of cancer. I have decided it is easier to deal with my cancer when I do not consider it to be the ugly, nasty invader it is.
 
When I was getting ready to start chemotherapy back in December, a friend who had gone through cancer treatment told me not to fight it. I was shocked. Everyone says they are going to fight their cancer; why would she tell me not to? I understood her message once I had my first chemotherapy treatment.
 
Not everything about cancer is horrible. Do not get me wrong, it is 99 percent horrible. I hated going back and forth to the hospital so much. I felt miserable. The complications tried to kill me. All my hair fell out, even my eyebrows and eyelashes.
 
My actual chemotherapy treatments were not bad. I was on a very powerful chemotherapy drug, so I got the big dose of Benadryl to keep me from reacting badly to the drug. I liked the stupid-head, heavy-body feeling I would get for two hours (I am now planning to never take over-the-counter Benadryl for allergies because I may become addicted.). That powerful chemotherapy drug made me warm. For three hours I was not shivering. The chemotherapy never made me nauseous.
 
I am choosing to find the happy parts all along my cancer journey and focus on them rather than the inconveniences cancer causes. The chemotherapy drug I start next month may make me sick. I will probably only get the small Benadryl dose. It will be hard to see the happy parts if I am puking my guts up. I will not need to stay all day at the hospital like I did on my old treatment with my new chemotherapy and that is a start.
 
My piece of advice to you is to find the happy. This is not my first death sentence. My first death sentence was 23 years ago, and I am still rolling around. I am paying better attention this time and actively looking for and celebrating the good parts.

Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Friday, October 11, 2019
Two days ago, I attended an event for one of the business-women’s networking groups I belong to. I have been a member of this networking group for 13 or 14 years and, until the past year while dealing with my illness, missed very few of the monthly networking events. I have met hundreds of people during those events and many of them I call my friends.
 
I had a display table at this past event to show off my books available for purchase in hopes attendees might purchase them for themselves or for gifts with the holidays on the horizon. Table vendors get a minute in front of the room to tell the attendees what they are offering at their tables and my intention was to talk about my new scrapbook to track the marketing ideas of business owners.
 
Six days before the event, I had my appointment with my oncologist and he told me I had reached my best if used by date, my cancer is not curable, and cancer will likely be my cause of death (or complications thereof). Wow! Talk about a readjustment. It was that day I decided I need to create my exceptional exit plan and a big part of that is living the life I have left.
 
I have a lot of people who care for me and want to know what is going on in my life; however, the idea of telling so many people individually how cancer is affecting me is not my idea of quality of life. I am happy to share, but I would really like to not be thinking of cancer all the time.
 
I pondered on whether to use my time in front of the room to talk about my books or my prognosis until Wednesday morning. I knew my cancer status announcement would bring down the mood of the room and I did not want to do that; however, I could not face the idea of telling my story over and over and over. I got in front of the room and told everyone I had a terminal diagnosis, I would be writing about it, and I did not want anyone asking me about my feelings.
 
It was as bad as it sounds. I just told everyone I was not kicking cancer’s butt and my announcement brought the temperament way down. There were shocked faces and tears, and (of course) I told them to quit crying. I felt particularly sorry for the speaker who had to follow me and talk about sales to a bunch of sad business people. I think she did a great job, especially considering the pall hanging over the room.
 
After the event, one of my friends came to me and said, “What a way to set boundaries.” I had not even thought about my announcement in that way, but that is exactly what I did. When you see me in real life; I do not want to always be talking about my cancer so ask me about another topic. If you want to know about my cancer journey and exceptional exit plan, read my journal.
 
My piece of advice to you is to set boundaries in your life. Are you bringing your work home with you? Do you own your own business and feel like you can never quit working? Does your mother expect you to call her to talk for an hour every day? Your life is YOUR life; do not give it away.

Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.

Thursday, October 10, 2019
I use a power wheelchair for mobility and do not drive. Public transit and my wheelchair are my primary modes of transportation. We have reasonably convenient and effective public bus service here in Colorado Springs. I do need to plan for an hour or more travel time depending on which part of town I go to, but if there is not a lot of snow on the ground, I can get many places by bus (on weekdays, fewer places evening and weekends).
 
Yesterday I attended one of the business-women’s networking groups I belong to. I left my house at 9:00 a.m., took three different buses, rolled approximately one-half mile, and arrived at the location at 10:30 a.m. A person driving can make the trip in a little less than 30 minutes, such has been my life for 20+ years. It takes approximately two to three times longer for me to accomplish basic tasks, mostly because I am unable to do them for myself and need assistance.
 
Because I am in the streets so much, I cross quite a few busy intersections. Sometimes crossing the street is a roll in the park and sometimes I feel I am taking a life-threatening journey. On my way to the event I crossed an intersection that has an island between the going-straight lanes and the right-turn lane. When I cross these intersections, I wait on the island until there are not any cars coming and then I finish crossing.
 
On my way to the event, two cars passed me while I was waiting and then the third car driver stopped to let me cross ahead of him. It was completely not necessary; I am happy to wait my turn and he had the right of way since there is not a cross light for this part of the crosswalk. I waved my thanks, crossed ahead of him, and rolled on to my event.
 
I had an interesting time at my event, however that is a story for another day. As I rolled back to the bus stop, I once again needed to cross that single lane to get to the primary intersection. This time there were not any cars coming when I looked so I started crossing the street. As I got half-way across the street, I hear squealing tires and a car blares its horn at me.
 
I continued crossing the lane at the same speed (which is very fast) because I was not in any real danger of being hit. I was shocked by the driver’s rudeness. It takes me a few seconds to cross a single lane of traffic. The car was not within 40 feet (my approximate unobstructed visibility) of me when I started crossing. The car’s tires were squealing as the driver took the gradual curve so he or she was quite obviously speeding; and they had the nerve to blare their horn at me for a few more seconds AFTER they passed me like I was the one doing wrong.
 
I could have let this annoyance ruin the rest of my day. Instead I decided the driver may not have realized they were going as fast as they were until they heard their tires squeal and honked their horn so I would not stop in the street. The driver might have been so upset by the idea of hitting a defenseless person in a wheelchair they held down the horn for longer than they should have.
 
My piece of advice to you is to remember there are always at least two sides to every story. Even if the driver was wrong and a jerk, how did it really affect me? I was never in a position that they could have hit me (unless the driver purposely ran off the road to do it) so what really happened? At worst, an inconsiderate person blew their horn at me. I put on my big-girl panties today; I can let it go.
 
Until next time,
Susanne

Please check out my GoFundMe page.