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Graceland and The Guesthouse–a girls’ weekend adventure

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

I have many friends, but perhaps the most special are the ones I’ve had since a young age. They know me better than anyone else. We shared confidences, cried with each other through the dramas of adolescence, even had an argument or two along the way. And even though we’ve been separated by time and distance, we’ve stayed connected, which has been much easier to do in this age of technology.

My younger years were mobile. Due to my dad’s health and his job, we left Tennessee and lived in two towns in Arizona, two in Texas, and finally landed back in Tennessee at the end of my sixth grade year.

That town was my home base until I was 23 when my parents returned to our hometown over 200 miles away. And that town is the place where I made friendships that endure to this day.

Two of my closest friends came to my part of the state last week for a girls’ trip (yes, we call ourselves girls) to Memphis. They wanted to see Sun Studio and Graceland, and I wanted them to see Mud Island and the Bass Pro Shop in the pyramid. I was tour guide, and they were willing followers.

The first stop was Sun Studio. I was amazed at the number of people there on a Friday, but we only had to wait about fifteen minutes for the guided tour which included an entertaining guide and the chance to post with and touch the same microphone used by Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, and countless others. If you think the reason Memphis is called the birthplace of rock and roll because of Elvis, you are mistaken. If you want to find out why I say this, well…take the tour, and you’ll learn.a lot.

A drive through the beautiful neighborhoods on Mud Island and a light lunch at Miss Cordelia’s, a grocery store/”restaurant” in the quaint commercial district of the island, me pointing out areas used by film producers for a This Is Us episode and a scene from the award-winning Wedding at Graceland (a Hallmark production, and yes, I’m being sarcastic), and a stop at the Bass Pro Shop on the river was next. The pyramid houses Big Cypress Lodge and a massive store with restaurants, a bowling alley, huge aquarium, and an observation deck accessed by an elevator (a charge for that) that allows sweeping views of the river and the Memphis skyline.

The next stop was the impressive, multi-story hotel next to the Graceland mansion called The Guesthouse at Graceland. Warning to those of you who have never been there: Graceland is located in a run-down area of Memphis. When Elvis bought the house and acreage, it was in a rural setting, but as the city grew so did the developed area around it. It was once a nice area but now is not the best. I would not recommend venturing out at night in that area. The daytime hours, though, are fine.

If you’re curious about what the hotel looks like, go on YouTube, and you can see plenty of videos. When we checked in, we were given an information sheet about activities and amenities of the hotel. There are two restaurants: EP’s Bar and Grill which has burgers, fish tacos, salads, and that sort of fare. Then there is Delta’s Kitchen which is elegant and more upscale. Dressed in our jeans or yoga pants, we opted for EP’s Bar and Grill. Our salads were delicious.

We then went to an in-hotel theater where a different Elvis movie is shown each night. Viva Las Vegas was showing that night, but movies on other nights include Jailhouse Rock, Love Me Tender, Elvis on Tour, Aloha from Hawaii, and some I can’t remember. Live music in the lobby followed, and the group performed everything from Elvis songs to Johnny Cash to instrumental pieces like those played by Roy Clark. If you’re of a certain age, you recognized that last name. The final activity was picking up a”free” peanut butter and jelly sandwich at 9:00 P.M. before heading to our room. I put “free” in quotes because at the price of the hotel rooms, I can’t say anything there is free.

There is no breakfast offered in the hotel, but there is an in-room refrigerator if you want to store chilled items, and there is a microwave down the hall in a vending/ice area. There is also a coffee shop with pastries called Shake, Rattle, and Go for to-go items, or you can splurge on a big breakfast at Delta’s Kitchen.

A shuttle takes you from the hotel across the boulevard to Elvis Presley’s Memphis where you purchase tickets for the tours. Here are the things included in the package: a seven-minute introductory film, board another shuttle to go to the “mansion” (by today’s standards, it’s hard to think of it as a mansion), tour the house and grounds, back to Elvis Presley’s Memphis to the museums housing numerous vehicles and other aspects of Elvis’s life as well as clothing and items used in the making of the 2022 movie Elvis, and Elvis’s planes. All museums contain videos on large screens that are playing constantly. And, of course, there are numerous gift shops and more restaurants.

If you’ve read my blog this far, you are likely interested in what these places have to offer, so that’s why I’ve gone into so much detail. But all of this detail pales in comparison to the true fun of the weekend.

For just a few days, I was fifteen or sixteen again. I can laugh with these friends in a way I can’t laugh with anyone else. We told stories on each other. “Do you remember when you’–?” Or “Remember when he–?” and that sort of thing. Sure, we talked about our current lives, and they caught me up on the lives of friends I left behind physically and emotionally, but it was gratifying to be with friends who ave been with me through good times and bad, friends who know me in a way my “friends made in adulthood” never can. With them, there is no pretense. They know the real me.Even though we have lived apart since 1979 and not always been in frequent contact (until cell phones became common), we’ve stayed connected.

I value all my friends and consider friendship one of life’s greatest blessings. I hope each person reading this can know the blessing of true friendships.

Widowed, divorced, single…lonely?

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

Is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

Ask the recently divorced, the recently widowed, or the recently broken-up from a relationship, and I have a feeling the answers would be very different from those who have had time, maybe even years, to adjust to their loss.

In my family and friends circle, I know widows as young as in their forties and widows in their nineties. I have friends who divorced years ago who remained single. I know of people who never married. My observation? It takes time.

I know someone going through loss often feels as though they will never get over it. I’ve been there. I know someone desperate to find a special someone may feel as though it will never happen, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Yet being alone doesn’t always mean lonely.

I don’t know how I will handle widowhood if it happens to me. I don’t know if I’ll be strong more than I am weak, or if I will fall into a depression. I like to think I’ll be strong, but the truth is we don’t know how we will handle any situation until we are in it. Being strong doesn’t mean not being sad. Being strong means still going through each day, doing what you have to do, and as one of my friends puts it “take one day at a time.”

For those of us outside of this circle, though, we can help. We can invite people to do things with us and not exclude them just because they’re not a part of a couple. Grown children need to include Mom or Dad in meals at their home from time to time. I’ve heard more than one say eating alone makes them feel lonely. I get it–you’re working, keeping busy with your children’s activities, and you’re exhausted. But put yourself In Mom or Dad’s shoes. How would you feel spending most of your hours alone when you were accustomed to having someone to talk to, to dine with, to do nothing more than watch a television show together?

I know I’m being preachy. But I’m amazed by the neglect I witness in the older population. My Facebook friends have seen my post about an elderly shut-in who lives almost 200 miles from me whom I call at least a couple of times a month because she has vision loss and wants to talk to someone who understands. She is unable to drive, unable to walk very far, and a widow for five years. Two of her three children live in the same town, but she often goes two or three weeks at a time without seeing another human being. Her child who lives out of state is the one who keeps in contact with her on a regular basis.

“When I see my son,” she told me, “he always wants to take me out to eat and run errands while we’re out. I’m glad to spend time with him, but I don’t want to do all that. I just want him to come see me and sit and talk for a while.”

And what about the divorced, the ones who feel abandoned by the person they loved, the ones who question why the divorce happened? What about the ones who are single, but all their friends are married with children and leading busy lives of which they don’t feel a part?

I don’t know what the answers are. I do know these people seem to adjust over time and still manage to live fulfilling lives. Whether they accomplish that by clinging to their original core family and/or children or by pursuing a beloved hobby or career, I don’t know. But the strong ones manage. They don’t give in to their sadness or loneliness.

I know this post is random, but what I’ve noticed is the following:

People who go through loss seem to do better when they do things for others to take the focus off themselves. People who keep busy are less lonely. Some people prefer to be alone and can involve themselves in hobbies. The more sociable ones get involved in civic and/or church groups and make a point to reach out to their friends to do things.

I don’t know what it’s like to be a widow or divorcée, but I’ve had my lonely times. When I graduated from college and lived alone, there was no one to do anything with because most of my friends married or moved away. When I first became dependent on others to drive me places after becoming legally blind, I spent the eight or nine hours a day my husband was at work trying to find something to occupy my time. It was the most miserable time of my life, but it gave me a new appreciation for what shut-ins experience.

I believe that time truly does allow hurts to heal, but that doesn’t mean that people recover from grief in a few months or even a few years. Those of us not going through loss should be patient with them. People adjust to new situations at their own rate.

A final thought: it’s great to pray for someone, but doing something for or with someone is even better.

Sorry for the sermon in today’s blog. I just felt the need to talk about an often forgotten group of people. Thank you if you stuck with reading this blog to this point. Let’s all work to make the world a better place by taking care of those in our circle.

Losing Sight? Find hope.

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

I know what you’re thinking. “Here she goes again.” The thought is in your mind. “Blogging about vision loss. Doesn’t she have anything else going on in her life?”

As a matter of fact, I do. Lots of things–time with family and friends, trips, church activities, civic activities, and hobbies. But if not for assistive technologies, I could not do many of them.

This month is Blindness Awareness Month, and my goal is to share information so those who are going through vision loss can find hope in the knowledge that while their vision is likely to get worse instead of improve, they can still live a fulfilling, independent life. That’s not to say they won’t have their emotional ups and downs Psychiatrists say that losing vision is like losing a loved one as far as the stages of grief are concerned. Denial, anger and/or frustration, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I understand that grief model is now being questioned and believed to be inaccurate, and I will say that for me, I never experienced denial. I accepted from the beginning. But I did experience all the other emotions.

My point? Someone losing vision can find hope, but it might take a while. They have to learn how to do old things in new ways. They have to adjust to a world that doesn’t look the way it once did, and that could take several years. In some cases, they have to adjust to a world of…nothingness.

What, then, can help these people adjust? Magnifiers from Walmart aren’t strong enough. Large-print books? Forget it.

But you can still read books using audio books or even reading ebooks on Kindle by setting the background to black, setting the type to white, and setting the font as large as it will go. If you have Alexa, you can purchase an ebook on Kindle, and she will read it to you. You can go on Amazon to purchase tactile (bump) dots for appliances, remotes, computer keys, and more so you don’t have to use your sight to do those things. You can purchase a magnifier like Ruby that you can hold in your hand to read prescription bottles, recipes, cards from a friend, and check prices while shopping.

Large print cards to play solitaire, low vision cooking aids, talking scales, talking meat thermometers–they’re all available.

Free apps for your phone:

ReBokeh–a better magnifier than your phone’s magnifier and specially designed for the VIP (visually impaired persons) community

Seeing AI–hold the phone above what you want read to you, and it will read it It will describe scenes, objects, colors, and even people.

Be My Eyes–hit a large button, and it will call a volunteer who will access your phone to see what you can’t. The volunteer will help you do everything from finding a prescription bottle to describing a piece of clothing to identifying the can of soup you need from your pantry to reading the frozen food label. By the way, puff paints can work for identifying canned goods and spices.

There is hope. In our area, reach out to the STAR Center in Jackson. Each state has help for the blind, so contact them to get the services you need. I realize I’m writing this as though a person with vision loss can read it, but it is more likely a sighted person is reading it and thinking of someone they know who might benefit. Please help them find these resources. And for those of you who have been dealing with vision loss and adapting for a while–well, I know you’re listening to it as your phone or computer reads it aloud to you!

My book Learning to Live with Vision Loss has more detailed information including resources. Available on Amazon, it’s $2.99 as an ebook and $5.99 as a large-0print paperback. It’s free if you have Kindle Unlimited. It is my hope the book will help someone learn to adapt to a new normal.

“There she goes again,” you may be thinking. “Promoting her book.” In a way, yes. Not to make money. I’ve given away almost as many as I’ve sold.

For me, losing adequate vision to do many things I loved was devastating. It took a while to learn, adjust, and adapt. But I’ve done it, and I can now find joy and purpose in life. I know there are much worse things in life than losing vision, but honestly, when you’re the one going through it, it may be difficult to put things in the right perspective. The suicide rate among the blind/legally blind community is three times the national average.

So I hope this blog will help at least one person begin a journey of hope and accomplishment. For additional motivation, watch Losing Sight?, Finding Hope on YouTube. I think it will inspire you.

What does it really mean to be blind?

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

When people think of “blind,” they normally think of someone like Stevie Wonder, who is completely blind due to being born prematurely and lacking oxygen, which destroyed his eyesight.

But completely blind people, meaning people with no light perception at all, only make up 10 to 15 percent of the more than one million people in the United States considered to be blind. The other 85 to 90 percent have some light perception and even some functional vision. Another estimated four to six million people in the U.S. live with vision loss that cannot be corrected with glasses, contact lenses, or medical treatment.

October is Blindness Awareness Month, and since joining that one million in February 2020, I have made it my mission to learn how to live as normally and independently as possible utilizing techniques and assistive devices and apps to enable me to do most everyday activities. I will write about those things next week.

People in the VIP (visually impaired persons) community want those of you who are sighted to understand a few things. First, blindness is a spectrum. It is different for each individual. For me, I have no central vision in either eye and some peripheral loss, and the amount of vision I do have is 20/400 or sometimes 20/300 in the right kind of lighting. My friend Trent, however, has no vision at all in one eye and extremely cloudy vision in the other due to cornea issues. Diane has lost all vision in one eye due to glaucoma, and the other eye is declining rapidly.

I have more functional vision than either. I can see to walk just fine, although I have tripped over objects or dips in the sidewalk/road. I can cook using specialized tools, although I usually have some spills or make a mess. I clean my house, do laundry, do all the normal things a sighted person does.

But I can’t drive, I can’t read. I can’t see people’s faces. I can’t see the house next door if I look directly at it, but I can see it if I look up to the sky or down to the ground (peripheral vision). Like Trent, I have a constant fog, although it’s not as bad as his. I can see a car if it’s as close as 10 yards from me, but my blurry distance vision can only make out shapes if anything at all. Yet I have functional vision. And with the devices I use, I can function very well.

Confused? Of course you are. I would be, too, if I wasn’t on this journey. Sam Seavye of “The Blind Life” on YouTube has a great shirt available that says it all: I can see, but I can’t. It’s complicated.” Yes, it is.

I think I speak on behalf of the VIP community when I say that, as difficult as it is to understand, we have some days of better vision than others. We can do more than you might think possible, but at the same time don’t assume just because my peripheral vision picked up that dirty sock on the floor that I can see what you can. Understand that distance matters. Understand that lighting matters. Understand that contrast matters.

The term for people like me is “legally blind.” You might say you’re legally blind without your glasses, but you’re not. Legal blindness means you can’t see the big E on the chart even with glasses. Legal blindness might mean you only have a 20 degree field of vision when the sighted world has 90. Legal blindness might mean you see nothing more than light and dark.

For most of us, our vision continues to decline. We go along for several days and maybe even weeks and begin to think, “Well, I think it’s stable,” but then there’s a sudden drop. Most of us have had days of depression (or months or years), and we still experience frustration. But we accept. We have no choice.

My purpose in writing this? My mission is to educate the general public, inform the VIP community about ways to live an independent life, and offer support to those new to vision loss so they can have an empathetic ear. It always helps to talk to someone who understands what it is you’re experiencing.

I hope you’ll read my blog next week when I write about the devices I use and some of the apps. And if you’d like more detail, my book Learning to Live with Vision Loss is available for $2.99 as an ebook and $5.99 as a large-print paperback. Sorry, no audiobook, but if you have Alexa, you can purchase the ebook, and Alexa will read it to you.

Thanks for taking the time to read this lengthy blog. Please help spread the word: there IS hope after vision loss.

Lessons Learned from a Friend

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

I wish I had a better picture of him, but for some reason I don’t. I wish I had a picture that shows the twinkle in his eyes, his contagious smile, even a picture that depicts his famous bear hugs.

This Thursday, family and friends will honor Gregg and his life, sharing their memories, funny stories, and no doubt some serious ones. I’m sure there will be many tears. There already has been.

A few things about him that make him exceptional, especially in the world in which we live. He married his high school sweetheart after he graduated from college, and they recently celebrated 44 years of marriage. There was no doubt he adored her. He had a way with words and was not afraid to use them to honor the people he loved. He was the father of three children and three grandchildren. He was a dedicated employee, working more hours than he should to help the company succeed.

He loved his adopted hometown, and he enjoyed nothing more (other than time with family) than being with his classmates and friends he made growing up here. At class reunions, I always noticed how he talked to every classmate there, whether they had been good friends or not, and how he asked questions about their lives and truly listened.

He and Barry were high school friends, and Barry was a groomsman in his wedding. He and his wife moved away, and the two in pre-email and pre-cell phone days lost touch. But when they moved back to Tennessee just a little over a couple of hours away, they reconnected, and so began years of activities. Weekend trips to the Smokies, week-long trips to the beach, multiple get-togethers with our unit of four couples at different houses. Card games, trivia nights, putt-putt competitions, even an escape room adventure–we enjoyed our time together.

A former DJ at a radio station, he loved music, and I can only imagine how long his playlist is. He loved sports and was a loyal Cardinals baseball fan, unlike Barry who has been a Pirates fan since his Little League days. But they never argued about their difference in loyalty.

He was the type of guy who, if he hadn’t seen you in a while, would give you a big hug and hug you again when he left, as did his wife. He (and she) were always the first to tell us “Love you guys.” He told his friends how much he appreciated them, even in text messages.

Like any of us, Gregg was not a perfect person, and he wouldn’t want us to think he was. He could get worked up about politics at times, and maybe some other things, but normally he was an even-keeled, kind man who was always ready to laugh, to share a good memory, to praise others for the good things happening in their lives.

So what are the lessons learned from our decades-long friendship? We don’t all have his outgoing personality or ability to be open in our affection for others. But we can all smile, laugh, be kind, be good listeners, and value our friends and family. We can all be the kind of people that when it’s our time to leave this earth, people will miss us, say kind things about us (and mean it), and maybe say they learned a few things from us.

His passing was sudden, so it is taking us a while to accept. It is surreal. But how comforting it is to know the last thing he said to us the Thursday before he passed away was that he loved us, and we told him the same. He meant it, I know.

And so did we.

Small town or big city? Or something in between?

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

Is this neighborhood In a small town or city? Can you even tell?

There are clues. If you can’t figure it out, I will reveal in a bit.

I have lived in towns with populations of 30,000, 15,000, 10,000, and currently a town of about 11,000. So I have no experience with “city life” other than when visiting my son and his family in Memphis. By the way, that town of 30,000 in 1970 is now over 100,000. That town of 15,000 in 1960 is now 53,000. My town of 11,l000 in 1980? 8,900. I guess you could say we haven’t had much growth.

Where am I going with this? I guess I’m reflecting on what makes people choose to live the places they live. Why do so many stay in Chicago, New York, Los Angeles? Why do so many stay in very small towns with limited opportunities and economic hardships? What motivates someone to live where they live?

I think the answer is obvious, at least for most. Family and friends, and maybe not in that order. Behind that comes temperament (those who fear change), abilities or education (can’t get a job anywhere else or think they can’t), and those who love the opportunities that place has to offer. Someone who loves to hunt and fish wants to be in a rural setting, while the ones who love professional or collegiate (big university) sports and entertainment like theater and musical events will prefer the city.

Once again, all of this is obvious. I’m just stating what you already know.

It’s pretty cut and dried for many. For people like me, though, it’s not so simple. The town I live in is wonderful. It has a university (where I attended and loved it so much I stayed), and it has more to offer than many small towns. It’s safe. It’s clean. Caring, interesting, and community-minded people live here. It really is a great place to live.

But we’re an hour away from great in-person shopping. We’re at least an hour away from medical care for the more serious issues. We’re two or more hours away from big-name sports events. We’re over five hours from the #1 locale in our sports world, Knoxville (Go, Vols!). We have limited job opportunities for college graduates, which explains why so many of our children move away once they receive their degrees. Even manufacturing jobs, once the mainstay of America, are limited.

But is a city any better? Higher crime rates, traffic, anonymity (which can be a plus or a negative), and a higher cost of living may offset the benefits of entertainment and medical care. The jobs found may still require a long commute instead of a five-minute one in a small town. The in-person shopping may be too much of a hassle on busy days off, leading to online shopping, especially by the 50 and under crowd.

What’s the answer then? For me, something in between. Paducah, Kentucky, is an hour from us. It has an excellent TV station, shopping, medical care, entertainment options, and educational opportunities. It is intersected by a major interstate. The population? Only 27,000. If I could take my friends and my church family with me, I’d be tempted to move there. Well, maybe not. Kentucky has a state income tax and a personal property tax. We don’t.

I’m a dreamer. I’m restless. I thrive on change. So sometimes my mind goes down these rabbit trails, thinking about how it would be to live somewhere else while knowing all along I wouldn’t really do it. And while traveling those trails, I wonder if I’m the only one who thinks like that or if there are others like me, people who have read too many books and dreamed of traveling to or living in amazing places. People who wish they could make some big changes in their community. People who dream and envision possibilities.

Have you figured out the location of the houses in the photo? Look closely. There’s a telltale sign it’s not a small town like mine.

It has sidewalks. How I’d love for us to have sidewalks so I could walk to town and feel totally safe from the cars flying toward me. How great it would be to have sidewalks to push my granddaughters in their riding toys in our neighborhood. I dream of sidewalks.

Back to the photo. This is a neighborhood in a town of just over 50,000. It has sidewalks everywhere and is a five-minute drive from a top-notch school, from restaurants, grocery stores, and places like Target and Home Depot. It’s in a suburb of a city, so it has the benefits of city life without the negatives except for traffic when going into the city, which any of us would have anywayI.

You can guess what gets my vote (if not for my friends). Something in between. And, of course, something in Tennessee.

What about you? What gets your vote (and take family and friends out of the equation)? And if you love where you live, what, if anything, would you change?

Funny “blind” moments

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

No, there’s nothing funny about low-vision or legal blindness or total blindness. And no, this picture has nothing to do with my post other than to share a blurry image of me many, many years ago before vision loss, before wrinkles, and before…life.

Life has its highs and lows, its joys and griefs, and its “blah” moments when we feel like we’re plodding along with not much hope ahead for better days. Whatever your coping strategies are for dealing with those times, I think keeping a sense of humor about some things can help.

If you read my book Learning to Live with Vision Loss, you already know this story. One day s fly in the house was annoying me at every turn. I had tried several times to kill it, but I missed each time. Finally, about the time my husband arrived home from work, I hit my mark. “Got it!” I told him as he entered the kitchen. He looked at the counter. “You sure did,” he said. “You definitely got that popcorn kernel.”

We had a good laugh. He killed the fly.

Another time we stopped at a rest area along the interstate. “Do you need me to walk you to the building?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “I can find it. And I know where you’re parked.” When I was returning to the car, I walked with confidence to the red vehicle and opened the passenger door. When I did, my peripheral vision picked up some bags of chips in the seat. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “I didn’t have any chips” I lifted my gaze, and a man (not my husband) was staring at me, speechless. I Immediately started babbling. “I’m so sorry!” I said. “I’m legally blind and thought this was our car. I’m so sorry!” I backed away and closed the door. Barry was in the next space. That red car had not been there when we had pulled in, so I’d just assumed the vehicle was ours. I’m sure I gave that man a story to tell!

I am president of our local retired teachers association. Our secretary has hearing loss, and even though she wears a hearing aid, she still struggles. At our meeting Wednesday, she told the group if someone else wanted the position because of her occasional errors in the minutes, she would step down. Of course, the group was only too happy for her to keep the post. I told her afterwards how much I appreciated her efforts and said, “Hey, our group is unique. How many organizations have a blind president and a deaf secretary?” We both laughed as did a member standing nearby. “I was thinking that,” he said. “But I was afraid to say it.”

Let’s not talk about the times I’ve put on shirts wrong-side out or thought I was talking to one person and it was someone else or tripped over obstacles (in certain lighting our son’s dog blends in with our carpet, so I’ve stepped on hi or almost tripped over him more than once). The point is, stuff happens.

I can take myself too seriously like member of an online support group who is offended by terms like “blind alley,” “blind drunk,” “blind as a bat,” and so on. I think that’s being overly sensitive and taking yourself too seriously.

Don’t get me wrong. Many things in life are not laughable. But being able to laugh at myself makes me feel a lot better than being upset by those things. After all, laughter is the best medicine, right?

Cancer is on my mind these days

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

No, I don’t have cancer, at least not that I know. But my niece does.

She’s not just any niece. She’s my only one, except for my niece by marriage. I have no nephews. I was 12 when she was born, and she was more like a precious little sister than a niece. While life’s circumstances and distance has reduced the amount of time we can spend together, I believe the bond we share is still strong.

So when she was diagnosed with lobular breast cancer almost a year ago and began a battle that has included the usual treatments along with a few complications, I began to research, trying to understand her journey. I have tried to encourage her and to let her know I’m thinking of her and praying for her. I’ve tried to do what I can, but it doesn’t seem to be enough.

Thinking about her situation and the others in my family and friends circle who have been touched by cancer made me want to do more. Being the teacher and writer that I am, it made me want to learn and inform. I want others who have not been touched by cancer to learn how to prevent it. I want those who have been affected by cancer to know they’re not alone and that research is ongoing to help fight this dreaded disease.

I interviewed a local cancer doctor and wrote an article for the local newspaper. What follows is the article. I hope you benefit from it in some way.

Ask anyone who has beaten cancer, and they are likely to tell you it is always in the back of their mind. No matter how many years have passed, they wonder if it will come back.

Ask anyone who has battled or is battling cancer, and you’ll hear stories as varied as the people telling them. There are similarities, of course, in treatment and the emotional impact, but cancer is not a “one size fits all” disease. Its impact depends on factors unique to each person.

The American Association for Cancer Research shares a calendar for National Cancer Awareness Months, which are every month of the year except December.  The purpose of the designations is to raise awareness about cancer, promote education on the disease, and advocate for research, early detection, and better access to quality care for patients. September focuses on several types of cancer such as childhood cancer, leukemia and lymphoma, and prostate cancer. Breast Cancer Awareness Month is October.

That is the most common cancer seen and treated by Dr. Margaret Gore, hematologist/oncologist, of the Baptist Cancer Center in Union City. She has been practicing medicine in the clinic since 1997 when she relocated to the area from Memphis. In her practice, she diagnoses and treats patients referred to her by their primary care doctor as well as treats patients already diagnosed by a referring physician.

The staff at the center provides everything a patient needs, including surgery (done in another location) and chemotherapy, radiation, and immunotherapy treatments. “The treatment is individualized,” she said. “We have a wide range of treatments depending on the biological markers found in the tumor and sequencing of the DNA.”

Colon or lung cancer ranks second in the number of conditions she sees, and while she and the staff provide surgical services and treatments for most cancers, lung cancer surgery is done elsewhere. After surgery, however, patients can receive treatment at the center. She does not limit patient care to those who are patients in the Baptist Medical Group. “If someone has surgery or is diagnosed somewhere like Vanderbilt, I work with their doctor. Our goal is to do what is best for the patient.”

A common misconception is that most cancers are due to genetics. Dr. Gore said only about 10 to 15 percent of cancers are due to genetics. Lifestyle choices are the leading causes. High fat diets, whether animal or plant fats, make a person more likely to develop cancers. Research indicates that people who exercise regularly are less likely to get cancer, and having as many as four servings of alcohol each day puts someone at a higher risk. She said the most preventable cancer is lung cancer since most cases are caused by smoking.

“If someone quits smoking,” she said, “the cancer risk reduces for each year following. After 20 years, the risk is the same as that of a non-smoker.”

In addition to high fat diets, insufficient exercise, and excessive alcohol consumption, smoked foods such as smoked sausage and smoked ham have been shown to be a link to gastral cancers. For women, hormone replacement therapy consisting of estrogen and progesterone therapy for more than five years increases a woman’s risk of breast cancer while short periods of estrogen-only therapy do not show much risk.

Dr. Gore emphasized the willingness the Baptist Medical Group has to provide care for people, even if their insurance is inadequate or if they have special financial need. Financial advisers will work with them and find resources to enable them to receive appropriate treatment. If someone has full medical coverage, there may not be a need for a separate cancer insurance policy, but she recommends people research to find out if they need the policy based upon on their financial need and major medical coverage.

Dr. Gore wants people to know that if they are diagnosed with cancer, they shouldn’t assume the treatment will be too horrible to endure. It depends on the person’s unique biological make-up. While some people may experience bad side effects, for others the side effects are mild. Immunotherapy, which has been used for about 25 years, normally does not cause sickness or pain, and radiation is well tolerated by most. “Fair-skinned people have more problems with radiation than darker-skinned people,” she said. “It also depends on the targeted area of the radiation. For example, if the radiation is in the neck area where the skin is thinner, it may be more uncomfortable than areas of the body where the skin is thicker.”

She said a positive attitude goes a long way in battling cancer. “There have been multiple studies that have shown that. That doesn’t mean someone has to be constantly cheerful. “You’re allowed to have moments of grief. But people who pick themselves up and say ‘Yes, I’m going to fight this’ do much better.”

Her final bit of advice is to those who sense that something is not normal, yet their doctor finds nothing out of the ordinary. “The squeaky wheel gets the grease,” she said.  “If something feels not quite right, keep telling them. Doctors are not perfect. If you think something is not right, pursue it. You know your own body.”

Baby boomers–wow, was our life different!

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

A lot has changed since the 1950s and 1960s, and I’m sure much of it is for the best. Stricter safety measures and laws, awareness of toxins, and “stranger danger” instruction keeps the younger generation safer and healthier. But when I think of how we lived back in the day, I’m amazed that most of us survived the hazards of growing up.

In 1960, the population of the United States was around 170 to 180 million, according to one source. In 2020, the population was 331 million, so it is understandable that certain aspects of life had to change. It’s much like living in a small town versus a big city. While dangers exist everywhere, a city’s crime and accident rates are usually higher than most small towns.

But back to The Wonder Years era. Things we did that would never work today.

Piling into the back of your dad’s pickup truck to go somewhere. Riding in the middle of the front bench seat of the car without wearing a seatbelt, even standing up there if you were small enough. Crawling into the little space behind the back seat to stretch-out and see the cars traveling behind you. Riding bicycles and skateboarding without helmets. Drinking water from the garden hose, licking fruity powder from the palm of your unwashed hand.

At my house, my germ-phobic mother used bleach and Pine Sol regularly. My cloth diapers, I’m sure, were soaked in a bleach mixture before being washed. Our only bathroom was sanitized daily. The smell of Pine Sol was the air freshener of choice since she mopped the floors religiously.

On Sundays, Mom always took off her church dress and hung it up to wear again to Sunday night services. She wore a cotton housecoat all afternoon. Dad took off his coat and tie, but kept his dress pants and shirt on for the same reason. We kids played outside at all times. I don’t remember ever playing inside at a neighbor’s house. We roamed the neighborhood and walked as a small group to a small store to spend our nickels and dimes on candy like candy cigarettes and pink bubble gum cigars. Mosquito trucks sprayed the streets, and although my parents instructed me to come inside when they came by, it wasn’t unusual for other kids to run behind the trucks or ride their bikes and get the spray all over them as well as breathe it in.

We jumped on trampolines without protective sides, walked home from school without an adult, and sat close to the TV to watch our favorite shows, of which there weren’t many since most programming was targeted to adults. Romper Room, the Mickey Mouse Club, and a local kids’ show were my fare.

I’m not saying life was better then, although in some ways it was. I’m not saying the dangers we were exposed to out of ignorance weren’t present. But I’m glad I grew up in a time when kids were still fairly innocent, when doing chores for your allowance and playing outside with friends for hours was the norm, and when families could watch TV shows together without worrying that something might not be appropriate for kids. Sure, someone died on Gunsmoke every week, but it didn’t scare us because there was no blood and it had happened in the past, not the present. Besides, we knew it was just pretend.

We endured name-calling and bullying just as kids do today. We had mean teachers and nice teachers, and we had the popular crowd and the rest of the school. We had all of that. We grew up hearing about Vietnam and said good-bye to loved ones who went there to serve. Anti-war protests kept the news media hopping, and the Cold War with the Soviet Union was ever present.

It was not a perfect time, but it was our time. And if you’re a baby boomer and reading this, you understand that it was, in many ways, a special time for many.

The joys of aging…wait a minute, the JOYS??

by Pam Harris, "blind" writer

If it hasn’t happened already, it will if you live long enough. You’ll be going through your life, being busy I whatever way your world is busy, experiencing the ups and downs we all have and maybe some a little more extreme than others. You may or may. not take care of your health by exercising, eating right, avoiding bad habits, and getting enough sleep. You may or may not deal with constant health issues like diabetes, MS, or other conditions that can affect anyone at any age.

But one day you notice the world around you is changing. Cooking instructions on a cake mix box, for instance, are in a much smaller font than they used to be. And if you’re trying to read any kind of vitamin or medicine bottle, forget it. That’s what phone magnifiers are for. Conversations in noisy restaurants are a challenge. People just talk too loudly in public these days, so you can’t hear what someone across the table from you is saying. Throw in some occasional aches and pains without any real cause, skin as dry as the Atacama Desert (thank you, baby oil and iodine or Hawaiian Tropic), and hair that no longer flows back to your shoulders after being out in the wind and stands straight out instead, then you can recognize that you are aging.

As if the physical changes aren’t bad enough, your place in the world shifts. You become invisible in many ways. In stores, strangers once made eye contact with you. Now they look past you as though you don’t exist. Your children, who began to question your wisdom and intelligence as teen-agers but got over it in their twenties and thirties, now think of you as older while at the same time thinking you’re Superman or Wonder Woman (which is a compliment). Yet they think you’re a dinosaur when it comes to technology, a fondness for network television shows, or an appreciation for the best music ever, meaning the 1960s and 1970s.

I confess. I never understood my dad’s love of Johnny Cash nor my mom’s devotion to The Lawrence Welk Show. Guilty as charged.

But back to my original point. With all these negatives, then, is it possible to find joy in this process?

For me, it’s several things. Some might say retirement is the biggest joy, and to some extent that’s true. But not for everyone. So I’ll leave that out of the equation.

The joys I’ve discovered are simple. The feeling of freedom in no longer caring if people approve of my fashion style. I wear what I like, and if I’ve had an outfit for more than ten years and I still like it, I’ll wear it. I’ve found joy in my sons finding wives with whom to share their lives and build their own families. I’ve found joy in the simple things in life, activities that might have once bored me, like drinking my morning coffee on my front porch very early as I listen to the world around me waking up.

Even though I’m older, I’m still making new friends in my church community, in civic groups, and through other friends and family. Old friendships hold a special sweetness and are even more special as time marches on.

When you’re older, you know who you are. You can look at your flaws and acknowledge your strengths without being too preoccupied with either. Sure, you try to improve (or at least I do), but you are able to put things into perspective. While past hurts may surface at times, they no longer torture you. You truly learn the meaning of “It is what it is.”

In the Christian community, the word “JOY” is used as an acronym: Jesus, Others, Yourself. In learning to put others’ needs before our own (something you do constantly while raising children), you learn to let go of your own wants, worries, and fears, and that attitude can bring you peace. Doing things for others to bring them joy is a blessing to you as much as it is to them if not more so.

When you’re working, raising a family, and juggling responsibilities and activities, life can be a bit overwhelming. This, though, will pass, and someday you will have time to appreciate who you are, where you are, and what you have.

I realize this post does not apply to people going through extremely difficult times that the rest of us can’t or don’t want to imagine. This post is for those of you like me, people going through life with occasional bumps and bruises or people who have gone through extreme hardship but managed to find strength to overcome. No doubt life is a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions, and no doubt there are negatives to aging, but there are also joys.

We just have to look for them.