The phone rang four times, then clicked into the answering machine. “You’ve found me counting my blessings,” the rich alto voice came over the line. “Today I’m glad I’m not in a wheel chair.” This was my introduction to Susan, a veteran who had received a back injury while in active service, a cancer survivor, and a woman who walks a mile a day while using crutches.

After a few more phone calls we worked out a time to meet at a quiet north end coffee shop, where I found her at a corner table. “I put my crutches against the table so you’d be sure to recognize me,” she said by way of greeting.

After ordering something warm to drink, I began by asking Susan about what she considers her challenges.

“My biggest challenge some days is just getting shoes on,” she explained. “People take it for granted that they can touch their shoe laces. You can tell how I’m doing by looking at my shoes. If I’m not doing well, you’ll see me wearing slip-ons instead of sneakers.”

“The mental challenge is if you’re sitting on the ‘pity pot’ too long,” she continued. The way I get past that is in doing service for others. During chemo, when I was afraid I’d loose my hair, I started making these.” She pulled out a bag and spread several pieces of brightly patterned material out on the table. She had puppy prints, red robots, baby kittens, Winnie the Pooh and Spider Man. “Do you know what a doo-rag is,” she asked, “as in hair doo?” I shook my head, and she held one up, explaining they are a bandana-like head covering that the bikers wear. “I got the pattern by buying one at the Harley Davidson shop and taking it apart,” she mentioned casually.

On the days when she goes into Seattle, Susan brings a bag of various small sized doo-rags she’s made and drops them off at the Ronald MacDonalds House at Childrens’ Hospitals.

“The kids love ‘em, and it keeps their heads warm if they’ve been through chemo. When I have a bad day, instead of letting a whiney noise come out of my mouth, I make these.”

I asked Susan about her daily walks. “I’ve always been a walker,” she replied. “In 2000 I did the Seattle Half Marathon. I used to walk at Deception Pass, but there’s no cell phone coverage there, which is important to someone with a disability. People need to be aware that there a certain things needed on a trail for folks with impaired mobility. Porta potties every so often, for one thing, which need to be wheelchair accessible.”

Remaining physically active while dealing with pain is another issue Susan faces on a daily basis. “You have to find mental ways to get around the pain. Every individual will deal with pain differently. I enjoy seeing the beauty of God’s creation when I’m out walking.

The pain clinic has taught me ways to not focus on the pain when I walk, but rather to focus on music or the ducks! I love to watch them. They look like they’re gliding along, but underneath you know they’re paddling like Hell!“

I took a moment to consider her words. It raised a question that was hard to ask. “Do you think of yourself as someone with a disability?”

“Yes and no. Yes in that I have balance problems without my crutches, but I am not helpless. When a doctor says you’re going to loose your mobility, some people surrender their mobility, but, even if a doctors says that, it does not mean there’s no reason to challenge yourself!

“So what motivates you to challenge yourself?”

“If I stop moving, I will end up in a wheel chair. You know, there’s no eject button from a wheel chair—once you’re in one you may not get out.”

She went on to tell me she’d learned that it can also be useful to find out what is the most effective motivator for oneself. For her it’s a picture.

“I pasted a picture of a wheel chair on the ceiling over my bed, and wrote on it, ‘You’re eligible, too.’ Now, when I picture that wheel chair, I work out!”

I asked what type of exercise she uses for her workouts. Besides walking she swims a lot at the city pool where there is a hot tub available. That has been nice to have on the days when there’s a lot of pain.

“So, what for you, is the reward of keeping physically active?” I wondered.

“Keeping my mobility is the pay off, and even if I ever do end up in a wheelchair, I’ll know I did the best I could. “

The short winter afternoon was drawing to a close, and I told Susan I’d have to be heading back home soon.

“Just a minute.” She pulled out her palm pilot. “I find this useful when I have chemo brain,” she explained while clicking on the small pad. In a moment she’d found what she wanted. “Here’s a saying I like: The road to victory is paved with surrender and defeat.” For a moment I had nothing to say. If there was one thing I had not heard in our conversation, it was even a whisper of surrender or defeat.

I stood up to zip my jacket, and found words to thank her for her time, and for being a model of someone who has kept a sense of humor and self possession under difficult circumstances.

As I headed south down the Island Highway I kept thinking over her comment about the ducks. It was a powerful metaphor. How many times, I wondered, do we glide by people without taking a moment to realize that, while what they are doing may seem easy to us, they may be paddling like Hell underneath!

Article by Elaine Woods of WhidbeyWalks. For more information about WHIM, downloadable trail maps, and local resources, log on to www.whidbeyinmotion.org