And Now, for Something Completly Different

Yes, I confess, I was a "Monty Python" fan...thus, the title.

When Bettie's stroke occurred on June 23rd, I was about three weeks into a rigorous rehearsal schedule for a series of August performances of Meredith Wilson's wonderful musical "Music Man". I had auditioned for and been awarded a role in the barbershop quartet (known in the play as "The School Board"). Though I sing in Northwest Sound Men's Chorus, I have never performed in real stage drama. When I heard of the opening, I couldn't resist giving it a try.

Rehearsals were Sunday through Thursday evening from 7 to 10, beginning in mid June and going through the first performance on August 7th. Though all cast members were not required at every rehearsal, it was a very big commitment. So you're thinking: "I wonder how much they have to pay people to do that?" The answer: nothing, and that's what I love about it.

The production company that is putting this on is Twelfth Night Productions, founded and directed by Mary Springer. Over the years they have done a variety of productions, usually two to four each year, and this summer, it is Music Man. Though it is all volunteer, it is not amateurish. Read all about them on their web site.

Naturally, I had to resign from my role when the stroke occurred, but I remained on the e-mail list of the company. Thus, I know how hard they all worked to put on this show. I had told Mary that I wanted to bring Bettie, if she was able by the time the performances began. She set aside two tickets for me, from a sold-out house...I couldn't miss it.

Try as I might, I could not convince Bettie to come. She was quite adamant, like she is about going to church, that she would not come. She's just not ready. Veronica attended with me, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Now I'm not a theater reviewer, so I'll leave that to others. But I am someone who appreciates things "American"...and this is, for my money, as American as it gets. Here you have dozens and dozens of people donating huge amounts of time and talent to give their neighborhood, their society, something good, happy, and entertaining. Not doing it for money, but for the sheer joy of doing it, and doing it the very best they could. Trust me: they succeeded. (Here's a video of the curtain call.)

I said they were not paid...that's not exactly true. I saw the pay on their faces out front after the show. Mary Springer's pay was running down her cheeks as I thanked her for her immeasurable efforts and told her that I would do this blog for the show, in case next weekend is not sold out.

So if you find an opening in your calendar next weekend (Friday and Saturday at 7:30 and Sunday at 3:00 - West Seattle High School Theater) you will see a slice of America at its finest.

Dr. Heide: "Epic ... the word is Epic"

So there you have it folks ... she's making epic progress. Woo hoo!

So to celebrate, we went for a ride. At 6:00 this evening she checked out of Highline Medical Center and took a nice scenic drive down the valley to Auburn Regional Medical Center, with our son Steve riding shotgun.

I had arrived at Highline at five o'clock to help her with dinner, as usual, and pack up her stuff. My dinner "help" consisted of giving her two bites of squash, after which Steve said: "She's doing so well with her left hand now, why don't you give her the spoon?" And so I did.

So much for helping her with eating ... and I was just getting good at it. You'd almost think she was a natural lefty the way she mowed down the rest of the squash, most of the turkey and half the potato. After a few tries, she even got the hang of getting some drippy mushroom soup over the lips. By the time she got to the chocolate pudding, she was full...just as well I think. Total time to down dinner: 35 minutes.

Right after dinner, the cabulance (that's what they call a specially equipped van, that accommodates a wheel chair) arrived and they began readying her for the trip.

Dr. Heide put in a brief appearance and that's when I told him I needed a big doctor word to describe this: and I mimicked Bettie's latest right arm gymnastics. That's when he gave me his new adjective for her rate of recovery: "Epic".

So now she is sleeping in her new temporary home: Room 483 in Auburn Regional Medical Center. Her bed is by the window, with a view of Mt. Rainier. She's in the Acute Rehab Center, on the fourth floor. Take elevator "C".

(Watch for a post tomorrow afternoon when I'll have a better idea of her schedule and good times to drop by - when she not working out in the gym or with the speech therapist.)

If you compare the general tone of this post with the first one, ("The Day it Happened.") you will probably notice that this one is lighter, upbeat and more hopeful. If you perceive it that way, it is because ... it's true, I am.

Thanks to all of you for your part in that.

(My son Steve was a professional photojournalist for many years so he documented Bettie's recovery from the start. Here's the last video of her in Highline Medical Center, looking tired but on her way out the front door this evening. Yay!)


Going, going, gone!