Small Vacation

Just got back from two days at the Kentucky Affordable Housing Conference in Lexington.  Polly is on fall break this week, so she went with me.  The conference was held at the Lexington Convention Center and we stayed at the Hyatt next door.   The last time we stayed there was 14 years ago and the kids were with us.  Hannah was nine, and Collin five.  Polly and Hannah and a friend of Polly’s and her daughter went to a concert at Rupp Arena while I entertained Collin.  The concert featured Nsync with Justin Timberlake before he was famous, with Pink the opening act before she was famous.  Our stay there this time was much more peaceful.  Our room was very nice, since the Hyatt has undergone a much-needed remodeling and updating in recent years. 

A traveling exhibit about the Titanic was in one part of the convention center, and on Thursday  Polly went to that and did some shopping while I attended the conference events.  The workshops I chose to attend focused on accessible and energy-efficient residential design, which is becoming ever more important as energy costs rise and the concentration of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere increases.  Late in the day, I was a participant in a Q&A with private and nonprofit housing developers concerning rental subsidy vouchers for people with mental and physical disabilities that KHC is going to apply for if HUD ever reopens for business.  We are excited about the housing opportunities these subsidies will provide people with disabilities.  It’s one of the very few affordable housing resources left, so I was glad that developers seem interested in utilizing them. 

Like most stroke survivors, I suffered some damage to my ability to process questions and formulate a quick response, so I was a bit apprehensive about taking questions from such a hard-nosed group.  But everything went well, and now going on two years after my stroke, my mind seems as agile as it was pre-stroke.  I even found myself on more than one occasion growing impatient with the lack of comprehension on the part of some individuals concerning concepts I considered fairly straightforward.  Just like pre-stroke.

After the Q&A, I had a glass of Maker’s Mark, a fine Kentucky bourbon, at the conference reception, then went to our room where Polly was waiting.  Since the weather was beautiful, we decided to walk to a nearby downtown restaurant for dinner, or supper as we call it here.  We had been there before, but not for many years.  Polly had a salmon dish, and I had smoked gouda and rigatoni with an alfredo sauce.  Both were excellent.  We both had wine:  me, Pinot Grigio; Polly, her usual white Zin.  I had grilled garlic bread with my dish, but we also got a small loaf of bread before the meal.  And no rye bread here.  This is Kentucky, so we got corn bread with sweetened butter.  Polly does love her dessert, so we both had coffee, and split a huge piece of excellent cheesecake.

 

We don’t eat this much as a rule, so we were both stuffed afterward.  I told Polly I might need to get a taxi back to the hotel.  She looked at me with alarm, and said, “Really?”  I told her I was just kidding, that I was fine, just so full I could hardly walk.  That comment was something I would normally say before my stroke, and Polly would have known it was a joke, but you’ve got to be careful about joking about mobility impairment to someone who’s seen you go through stroke rehab.  We walked back to the hotel and both felt better for it.  There were activities for conference attendees that night, but neither of us felt like participating, so we watched a little TV and went to sleep early. 

I got up the next morning, had a big continental breakfast while Polly slept in, then attended the morning workshop sessions, and was finished by noon. We toured the shops at the convention center for a bit, including the excellent Old Kentucky Candies shop, then drove back home.  On the way back, we drove past the beautiful Keeneland horse track, but racing had already started and we knew on a beautiful day like that it would be packed.  You have to get there early to get a seat, and neither of us wanted to stand.

It was a short getaway, but both of us enjoyed it.  Having lived in this state my entire life, I take for granted its beauty and many charms.  A trip like this one makes me realize how lucky I am to live here, how lucky I am to be alive, and how lucky I am to have someone to enjoy life with.  It’s not quite the same as it used to be, though.  The spasticity is a constant reminder of what happened, what could have been, and what yet could be.  But until that time comes, life is well worth living.