Winter Fun

I woke up this morning to 23 inches of snow. I have lived in the Northeast all my life so snow is nothing new to me, but I have never seen this much snow. As I looked outside, I was reminded of all the fun I had as a kid. Waking up to snow meant a snow day; it meant making snowmen, going sledding, and hot chocolate when I came in. I felt so frustrated because I couldn't do these things. Not because I was too old, you are never too old, but because of the o2 and my health.

Usually I hate the snow because it means cold. It is inconvenient and you have to shovel, but this morning I desperately wanted to go out and build a snowman. It was probably because after my visit yesterday and feeling like this disease was progressing and having no answers, feeling like it was taking so much from me and having no way to stop it. Going outside in the snow would be one big FU. Yes, I was on o2, but so what. I could go out with my 100 ft. tubing. I knew it'd be long enough. So that is exactly what I did. I bundled myself up just as my mom had done when I was a kid - thick sweatpants, thick socks, ski pants, second pair of dad's wool socks over ski pants, shirt, sweatshirt, jacket, gloves under jacket sleeves, scarf, and hat. I made sure I was well protected.

Bundled up and ready to go outside

The snow was nearly up to my hip. I walked a little ways on the deck, feeling like an astronaut. I was tethered by my o2 tubing just as they are to the spaceship, bundled up as if in a spacesuit. Al the world around me was white with snow flying through the air, more snow than I've ever seen at one time. It was as if I had entered another world.

My original plan had been to build my snowman in the backyard, but after walking only a few steps, I realized I would not be able to walk that far. My breathing would not allow for it. Even after the few steps I had taken, I was short of breath and had to take a break. As I sat down in the snow to catch my breath, I decided to build my snowman in the middle of the deck, right where I was. The snow was not snowman snow. It was soft and powdery and did not lend itself to molding in any way. Typically you would take a handful of snow and mold it into a ball. Then you would continue to mold it until it got large enough to build it on the ground, rolling it and making the ball bigger and bigger until it is the size you want. You do this three times, each ball slightly smaller than the previous one. Then you place the balls on top of one another, the smallest for the head.

Molding my snowman

This snow would not do this. It was so powdery that by trying to make a ball, it just sifted apart through my fingers, but I was determined. I NEEDED to make this snowman. He represented more than just a snowman. He represented my need to fight this disease and not give up. My mother always told me that there is more than one way to skin a cat. So I mounded the snow up in a hill, patting it and packing it as I went. When it was large enough, I started to mold it. I dug out areas to that instead of a mound of snow, it looked like two rounded balls. I didn't have the energy to make three. When finally done, I added two sticks for arms, two Oreos for eyes, and a carrot stick for a nose. I then decked him out in a mask, o2 tubing, and nebulizer. I was so proud and happy. I had accomplished what I had wanted and didn't let my illness or the o2 get in my way.

Masked snowman

Snowman with o2

Snowman doing his nebs