stress | Change Is Hard

September 11, 2025
by dawnkinster 21 Comments

Turning it around

Yesterday I had a follow-up appointment with a doctor in a town about 30 minutes north of me. An easy appointment, not one to worry about. But the day before I’d had a related appointment with a specialist, at a major university an hour south of me. And that appointment had resulted in a perscription that I wanted to inform my local doctor about.

But, of course I can’t remember the name of the perscription. So I figured I’ll pick it up at the pharmacy before my follow-up appointment. Simple. The pharmacy, located about 10 minutes south of me, opened at 8. My appointment, about 30 minutes north of me was at 10.

Somewhere in between I needed to take a shower.

I arrive at my pharmacy at 8, and wait in line behind a woman picking up multiple perscriptions, all of which seemed to have some kind of issue. And then she wanted to pay for a cart full of other stuff while she was there.

No problem, I had time.

When it’s finally my turn I provide my name and birthday and the clerk tells me there’s nothing for me. I tell her I received a phone call the evening before indicating it was ready for pickup. She looks again. Nope, not here, she says, but it’s at the drugstore in the town north of me.

Uhhuh.

I go home, jump in the shower and then head back out around 9, which turned out to be a good idea because the town north of me is repaving their roads. One lane is open in either directon, but even that is periodically closed as equipment is moving around. So there are multiple places where people with hard hats and stop signs ask us to wait as we manuver past dump trucks and hot new pavement.

It takes a very long time.

But I’m not worried, I left early! When I get to the pharmacy I still have 30 minutes until my appointment on the other side of this town. I wait behind 2 people. When I get to the front of the line the clerk says there’s no perscription for me there.

Unhuh. I explain again. She looks again. Oh yes there is!

With perscription in hand I head to my appointment. I still have 15 minutes. But I don’t want to go back through all that construction so I choose another route, longer, but open. I’ve never gone that way before and I get lost, turned around on country roads, not sure whether the doctor’s office is north or south when I finally emerge back on the main road.

I have a 50/50 chance of guessing correctly, left or right. I go right. I was wrong. I turn around in another construction zone glad there isn’t much traffic, and buzz back north toward my doctor’s office, sighing at every red light.

It’s OK, I tell myself, I still have time.

I arrive 5 minutes before my scheduled appointment, like I planned it that way. I sit in the waiting room concentrating on my breath, trying to calm myself down. The day before, at the appointment in the big university setting, my blood pressure was ‘slightly elevated’ which is not normal for me. I really didn’t want it to show high at this appointment.

Helpfully the receptionist doesn’t check me in for another 15 minutes. When I finally get into my appointment my blood pressure is perfect.

Go figure.

I guess it just goes to show that even if you have a lot of obstacles to drive around you can still get to where you’re going on time, and with enough breath control to have a good outcome. I’m glad I’m done with doctor appointments for a few months.

So that’s my going to the doctor story. I’m almost finished with the photos from my camping trip in northern Georgia…those are coming up next.

Promise.

They’re bound to be more entertaining than going to the doctor.

June 9, 2024
by dawnkinster 26 Comments

Musical exhale

It was busy around here last week. A steady stream of contractors and appointments filled our days. I had a rehearsal on Tuesday night and a concert on Friday evening. Husband had places to be and people to see too.

The calendar (paper, and hanging on a bulletin board in the back hall) daily squares looked black with scribbled appointments.

Friday was particularly bad for me. I thought I was on edge because of the pending concert. There’s always things to worry about when a concert looms. Would we come in together on that one tricky entrance. Would we all end together, or were we supposed to fade out on that other difficult piece.

Friday we had two contractors working on things inside the house and two contractors working on stuff out in the yard. None of it went exactly as planned and I was stressed.

*Friday was the last day of school and the students left messages in chalk on the sidewalk outside.*

Even our concert venue was causing stress. We’d been booked at the local Jr. High which has a fine auditorium and where we’ve played many times. But at the last minute the school system told us we couldn’t perform there, as the school was going to be renovated, beginning on the very night we were to play!

We told them we only needed 2 hours, but we got bumped anyway.

Our director, a retired middle school band director, got us approved to play at the middle school’s cafetorium. Yep. A cafeteria with a stage, probably similar to where most of us ate lunch growing up. I hadn’t played in a cafeteria since I was in 7th grade.

It didn’t feel promising.

But our group is resilient, and in the end it wasn’t half bad. The stage was acceptable, the dusty blue velvet curtain made a pretty OK band shell, the custodians had the lunch tables put away and 200 chairs set out.

And our audience showed up.

*Our intrepid leader, retired Clarkston band director, Ms. Roland.*

Most importantly, after my long week, it was cathartic to sit in the middle of a group of musicians and hear the music swell around me. Of course I lost my place a couple times when I was listening instead of concentrating. Or when I was letting my neck muscles relax and forgot to count.

But last night I listened to the recording and I’m pretty sure no one will be able to tell that one third clarinet didn’t play all her notes.

*Our guest conductor, Dr. Klena from Oakland University.*

Our concert was titled “Three Women and a Podium” and was filled with music composed by women. I was proud to be a part of that, and I enjoyed playing under the baton of each of our three wonderfully talented conductors.

*Our Associate Conductor, Ms. Scheu, Director of Bands at Oakland Christian School.*

On the drive home after the concert, the sun set in a most spectacular way. I stopped in a parking lot to watch. I thought about the week and the evening and the fact that I didn’t play everything.

And I decided I was happy with what I did play and I was very grateful that I could, finally, exhale.

I hope you all find your best way to let the stress of everyday life fall off your shoulders.

And if you’re somewhere nearby some of the Clarkston Community Band musician will be playing next Saturday at the opening of the Clarkston Farmers’ Market. I hope to see you there!

School’s out, the Farmers’ Market is open – – it’s officially summer!

November 3, 2020
by dawnkinster 15 Comments

All we can do is wait

A nod to Justice Ginsburg with the pearls.

As my husband said, after we delivered the last campaign yard sign to our last assigned precinct last night, “All we have to do now is vote.” And now that we’ve done that, well…all that’s left, after months of discussion and work and meetings, well, all that’s left to do is wait.

I’m hoping you’re all waiting patiently too. This year it’s going to take a lot of patience, and perhaps it’s best not to spend too much time watching those pundits on TV tonight. Maybe play a game, or watch a movie, even get to bed early and catch up on some sleep.

Tomorrow will come soon enough and if we’re very lucky we’ll know the results then. But we may need even more patience, days or weeks of patience.

I guess, thinking about it, I’m wrong when I say all that’s left to do is wait. I think it’s also our jobs to keep things peaceful, tamp down the rhetoric, keep family and friends calm. Come to think of it, that might be the most important thing we do during this election cycle after all.

Wishing all of you a peaceful, restful evening this election day, and in the days ahead.

May 31, 2020
by dawnkinster 33 Comments

It’s hard to smile

This week it’s been hard for me to find something to smile about.

So many families with broken hearts this week.

The news was filled with awful things. The virus killing over 100,000 Americans. The protests and violence stemming from the death that reminds us of other similar deaths.

No, this week I didn’t feel much like smiling.

And then my silly girl wouldn’t sit pretty for a picture and I had to smile…just a little.

Reminding us to stop and smell the flowers.

Yes, this week I looked really hard for something to smile about.

Oh, all right mama. I’ll look at your silly camera. Sort of.

And I found it right here at home.

I hope I made you smile too!

August 26, 2019
by dawnkinster 19 Comments

Musings

I’ve been thinking, since I’ve been injured, about how hard life can be when you have a disability.

I broke my little finger Saturday. Seems a small injury, but it’s wrapped up in a cumbersome cast that engulfs most of my right hand. And the same fall re-injured an older wrist problem on my left hand, so there’s a splint over there too.

It all makes me pretty useless.

For example, I was talking to my brother and sister-in-law who were concerned about my fall, with the phone propped awkwardly between my two useless hands, when I realized fibers from my cast on my right hand had become attached to the velcro on the splint around my left hand, essentially gluing my hands together. I kept talking while sort of waving the whole mess at my husband, silently asking for help.

Ridiculous.

Last night I couldn’t get my socks off. Neither hand could grasp the back of a sock much less had the strength to pull. I finally used the toes of one foot to push the sock off the other. Then repeated the maneuver.

And don’t even ask how taking a bath while one arm is encased in a garbage bag works. Turns out you can’t hold a washcloth or soap with that hand at all, which makes washing the opposing side of your body pretty much impossible. But hey, I had a nice warm soak which felt pretty wonderful.

Yesterday, the day after the injury, the dog asked to go out very early in the dark morning like usual. She doesn’t care about her mama’s finger. I got my shorts almost wrestled on using one hand but I couldn’t get the zipper up, the shorts were hung up low on my hips. Well, it was 3:30 and dark out, I figured I didn’t need them zipped.

Then I couldn’t get my sweatshirt on, my bound up hands didn’t fit through the cuffs. I left the sweatshirt hung up on my hands and half way over my shoulders. Obviously that didn’t zip either.

By then Katie was hopping up and down in anticipation and I couldn’t get the leash attached to her collar using my only my left hand. After much groaning and improvising, and some sweat, I managed, though my hand was starting to throb.

Katie and I wandered the yard, me hoping my shorts stayed up and for no cars to come by, her enjoying the cool morning breeze. I was looking up at the stars, thinking about nothing much when I realized I should probably be watching my feet instead. I couldn’t afford to trip, over Katie or a piece of sod. I didn’t have a spare hand to catch my fall. The Cheshire cat smile of a moon illuminated our path as we carefully made our way back to the house.

Today I’m in sweats and an oversized t-shirt and Katie walks the house dragging her leash. My hand doesn’t hurt as long as I keep up with the Tylenol and don’t bang it into things like walls or cupboard doors.

I didn’t bother with socks.

I have appointment tomorrow with a surgeon. I’m looking for good news. Meanwhile I’ll keep improvising.

I’m grateful this isn’t permanent.

May 22, 2017
by dawnkinster 23 Comments

Being in the woods

Usually Katie-girl tells you about our latest camping adventure. But she says we didn’t do anything exciting so she’s willing to let me talk.

This time.

Spring has been fickle here in Michigan, Cold and rainy and then sunny and hot. When the weather people said we were going to have a couple of days in the 80s (26.6C) with nights in the 60s (15.5C) I thought we should head to the woods for this season’s inaugural camp.

This is a pretty good site mama!

I was lucky to score a site that, though small, had a spot to tuck the tent under some shade trees. It lacked grass, but that’s the price you often pay to have shade. And Katie, though she’s a princess, doesn’t mind hanging out on dirt.

I didn’t make a list of things to take. I just sort of grabbed things as I thought of them and piled them all up next to the front door in the days preceding our scheduled trip.

Katie watched intently.

On Wednesday, as I began to pack the car she stayed under my feet, “helping” me get everything stowed. Even with her help, however, I forgot the bug spray, the sunscreen and the broom, all important things on a camping expedition. I blame her.

Still, even without important essentials it was heaven to be under the trees, enjoying the breeze and reading, then going for a walk, helping ourselves to a bit of a snack. Then a nap and repeat.

Hey mama! These are pretty!

On a Wednesday afternoon I was privileged to be sitting under a blue sky watching the leaves dance in the wind and the light move across the landscape. Not at work, not at the grocery store, not doing laundry, not vacuuming.

Just being.

Katie is very good at just being, but me? Not so much. It’s an acquired skill, I think, the art of just enjoying where you are when you’re there without worrying about what happened yesterday or might happen later in the day.

Let’s go explore mama!

Our first night was perfect, not too cold, not too hot. I slept great, and even Katie lounged around until after 6 a.m. Thursday the sun bore down on us and the winds were strong. I watched the tree limbs above our tent flail about and pictured them crashing down. The temperatures rose, the wind roared.

Katie and I went for a drive in the air conditioned car, she sitting in the front seat with her nose in the air conditioning vent. We headed down to the lake where were we could watch the clouds skip across the blue sky and the waves rush to shore.

Hurry up mama! My fur is getting messed up!

We enjoyed walking on the trails too. The wind wasn’t too bad back in the woods.

Cool stump!

Later that day we went back to the lake to see the sunset, and even though there wasn’t much of a show we enjoyed being out there, though the temperatures were dropping fast.

Waiting for the sun to set.

Our second night in the tent was miserable. For me anyway. Temps dropped to 43 degrees (6.11C). I wore all my clothes, doubled up the blankets, pulled the sweatshirt hood up over my ears. Still it was too cold to sleep. Katie, on the other hand, thought it was perfect and snoozed the night away.

…zzzzzzzzzz…

Lucky girl.

By morning I was more than ready to go back to civilization, with pillow topped mattresses, heat, running water, toilets closer than a half mile away. But the drive home was disconcerting. People were driving to work, fast and furious. I could feel stress begin to build just watching them dart around me.

And then I remembered. I was driving home to a hot shower and breakfast. Not to work.

Lucky me.

Hey mama! Let me show you how to entertain yourself!

March 30, 2017
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

“Democracy isn’t a spectator sport.”

I’ve had a good winter off, playing on the beach, watching light move across water, sleeping in, napping mid-afternoon. But it’s time to get back to work.

Work!??? You’re right; I’m retired. So what work am I talking about?

There are many of you new here at Change is Hard. You probably haven’t heard me talk about trucks and safety and my family’s story. You probably think my life is all about photography and travel and a special little dog. And sometimes it is.

“You can turn grief into action.”

But sometimes it’s about grief and loss and preventable crashes. And honoring the memory of my dad who was killed in December of 2004 by a tired semi driver who fell asleep at the wheel while going 65 miles per hour on a freeway in the early morning hours. A driver who failed to see the lights of emergency vehicles up ahead, the people working to clear a minor crash that had occurred earlier. A driver that didn’t notice the traffic stopped in front of him. Didn’t see my dad in his little red car until it was too late.

My dad was a guy who lived by safe rules. He had retired ten years earlier from a career managing chemical plants, inherently dangerous places. He made us all wear our life jackets in the boat when we were kids. He drove with us around and around the neighborhood when he taught us how to drive a stick shift car, until he was satisfied we could operate it safely. He helped my sister build her house in Tennessee, complete with extra roof brackets to hold the roof down in a tornado. Just in case. He carried an emergency contact list in his wallet, listing the four kids and spouses with work and home phone numbers. That’s how they knew where to find us after the crash.

“Hope in the face of difficulty.”

So after we got through the initial days filled with disbelief and unbearable grief, when we were moving into sad confusion buffeted by unrelenting grief, we began to ask questions. How did the driver not see all that traffic ahead? Not see all the emergency lights? The road was straight. The sight lines clear. We searched the internet looking for anything about truck crashes.

And we found the Truck Safety Coalition.

It’s an organization made up of the families of people who have been killed or injured in preventable truck crashes. It provides support to families and it works to change the way things are done in the trucking industry. Sometimes that means working to change regulations and laws. Sometimes that means working to change perceptions among people that drive trucks. Sometimes it’s about educating people that drive cars. Sometimes it means meeting with legislators and staff, or truck company executives, or members of other safety groups. Always it means honoring the memories of those we’ve lost, honoring the lives that have been changed forever of those who were injured.

It means trying to save lives

Every other year the families meet in Washington DC for a few days. We tell our stories, we sadly welcome the new families — those whose losses are recent, we talk about issues, resolutions, how to make a difference. And we go to the Hill and talk to everyone we can. Legislators, Regulators, the Press. Everyone. Sometimes they call us the ‘crazy truck people.’ That’s OK with us. Whatever gives attention to our issues.

“Even when you’re 100% right getting things done requires compromise.”

The conference is coming up next month. I can feel the tension escalating among my Truck Safety “family” already. Facebook is abuzz with truck issues. People are becoming stressed. Or depressed. Or hopeful. Or everything all rolled into one. Attending the conference brings it all back again for us. Yet it’s hard to stay away. “It’s like attending the funeral all over again.” says one mother who has been fighting for truck safety for more than twenty-five years.

The title of this post, and the quotes interspersed throughout, are from former President Obama’s July 2016 speech. I wrote a few things he said down on a random piece of paper way back then and that paper has found it’s way back to me this week. As I gear up for a difficult few days in Washington I thought they were appropriate. Hopeful. Democrat, Republican or Independent, the world would be a better place if we could learn to compromise. I’m hoping we find a bit of that during our conference this year.

It’s probably the most I can expect.

February 4, 2017
by dawnkinster 27 Comments

Throwing plans out the window

We’re in the mountains now.

Katie here. Again. Apparently I have to do everything. Mama says she’s been too stressed to tell the story, and besides, I’m the princess, so it’s all about me. Right? Well not always, but anyway I’ll give you the short version of our latest adventure.

So this was day 2 of our great adventure. I’m in the car a lot, but today mama stopped at a couple parks to let me stretch my legs. Did you know that Kentucky has zero rest stops on I-75? ZERO! Who let that happen? How’s a princess supposed to..um…pee…and other stuff if there aren’t any rest stops?

That’s a really big river mama!

Anyway, because we couldn’t stop like we normally do, mama took me on a side trip to visit Cumberland Falls! It was way back in the woods, 15 miles of narrow winding road before we got there. But when we did it was all worth it!

You’re buying me something at the gift store. Right mama?

We didn’t get to see the big falls really well because the lower observation decks were closed. But we got a little peak at them.

This looks very very cold.

Mostly we walked along the rocky shore and enjoyed the blue green water and the bright blue sky.

This is a really big rock mama!

What a perfect day! It was still cold, and mama was glad she was still wearing her winter coat and gloves, but I thought it was wonderful!

Awesome colors!

Of course stopping there put us behind schedule but mama wasn’t worried, who needs a schedule anyway? We were about 2 hours away from our hotel when something happened. Our car quit!

Well not exactly quit….but the power seemed to go right out of it and we were in the mountains of Tennessee! Mama pulled over and called Onstar who sent out a tow truck. The tow truck driver said I couldn’t ride in his truck so mama seat belted me in and I got to ride in the car on top of the tow truck!

Mama was worried I’d be scared, but I’m a big girl and did just fine. OK, I was awfully glad to see her when we arrived at the dealership and she got me out of the car. And I didn’t like the diesel engine on the tow truck at all!

But in the end the tow truck driver was really nice, and took us to a hotel that my daddy had found for us that takes dogs…and now mama and I are all snuggled up in a king size bed with a big TV and some books and we’re going to wait out the rest of the weekend right here.

Notice the lack of cars….cause we don’t have one!

We’ll be just fine.

We even got to see a little of the sunset behind the hotel when I made mama take me out for the 5th time to check out the pee-mail. I didn’t want her to miss it.

Sunset on evening #1.

I’m good like that.

Talk to you later…

Your adventure reporter Katie-girl.

Our room has a holly tree outside our front door!

November 12, 2015
by dawnkinster 14 Comments

Not trucks

It’s a grey day mama.

I want to write about something that doesn’t have anything to do with trucks. I feel like I’ve been immersed in truck issues for such a long time that there’s no way out. And in reality that’s true, there is no way out, I know I’m in that fight for the long haul. But sometimes I need to think about, do something, different. To let that truck stuff go for a little bit.

Trouble is today, when I came up for air, the weather outside was frightful. We’ve had a wind advisory all day with gusts up to 50 miles per hour. And rain. Plus it’s cold, and I don’t really like being cold. So Katie-girl and I have spent an entire day inside thinking about things we could be doing but not doing many of them.

It’s not as though I don’t have a long list of things I should do. Starting with cleaning. And organizing. And cooking. Not to mention practicing; the next community band concert is December 1, only a few very short weeks away. But I have only managed to nap today.

We weren’t raised in my family to be nappers so I’m struggling with the thought that I could spend an entire day in a chair watching the rain hit the windows, the light, what little of it there is, move across the yard, checking Facebook and email, reading blog entries. Falling asleep reading a book.

Morning light before the storm.

I want to write about something that doesn’t have anything to do with trucks. Something colorful and vibrant. Happy. But I seem to be in some sort of grey funk that matches the weather. Even Katie-girl seems to understand and gives up asking me to play after a little while. She’s asleep at my feet at the moment.

Tomorrow. Well tomorrow I will get myself up and go for a walk. After that perhaps I’ll write something that doesn’t have anything to do with trucks.

April 29, 2015
by dawnkinster 20 Comments

Caught up in it all

I have a friend I’ve missed talking to, seeing regularly. We worked together for many years and probably would have become good friends but I ended up being her manager and you just can’t be friends with people that work for you. She retired a year ago shortly after her husband died and we promised we’d get together. We meant it.

But you know it didn’t happen.

I’ve thought of her often, mostly when I’m at work where things remind me of her. And I’ve pulled out my cell phone to call her and then thought I’d wait till I wasn’t at my desk, maybe at lunch, or before the drive home. But lunch never happens and by the time I leave I’m so tired I don’t think about anything but the traffic jams waiting for me out on the freeway.

Then this week someone else asked about her, assuming I’d kept in touch, and I made a concerted effort to reach her. As we talked today I wondered aloud how her retirement was going, what she’d been doing, how life was. What was new.

She said she’d renewed her library card, read a lot of books, watched a lot of movies, spent time with her grand kids. Slept. All good things.

And then her voice broke and stilled. With a little wobble in her throat she softly mentioned that it had been lonely. Without her husband of so many years, without her friends at work she’d been lonely. Oh she didn’t want to start working again, face the traffic in the mornings, the stress of the industry we’re in, but still…

And I felt terrible. I was supposed to have her over for dinner. I was supposed to keep in touch. And I let it go every day, day after day, while I got sucked into the endless funnel of work and life.

And she’d been lonely.

It’s ridiculous. Me, who knows more than most how short life is, who knows what’s important, let it slide. She’s someone I care about, someone who makes me laugh, someone who was there for me when things were very very bad.

She was lonely. Damn.

We’re having dinner early next week, she and I and a few more people from work who have wondered how she is and have missed her. I can’t wait. She made me laugh this afternoon in the middle of work craziness. Even while I was beating myself up. She’s good like that.

Some lessons have to be learned and relearned. What’s important are the people, not the profit. It’s pretty simple really, but oh so hard to follow through. Lesson learned.

Again.

Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: stress