THE GAME IS AFOOT/A LEG (September 25)

THE DANCE CONTINUES  Less than 72 hours to slice and dice time. Amazing all the last-minute thoughts and "must do's" that crop up-mostly unnecessary I imagine. Today we are cheering section participants at Joe's flag football game and playing cards with some friends later so not sure how much I will ramble today.

 Laundry will probably be an up to the last-minute undertaking. Putting all my hospital and pj attire into plastic bags. Instructions demand clean clothes, clean sheets and, I'm guessing, clean thoughts along with TWO showers!  I am instructed to bathe before bed and upon waking for my procedure. Maybe the lack of sleep is calculated so that the patient gives less resistance. Using fancy sterile soap that I must leave soaking on my person to supposedly, kill all the little bacti (is that a word) that live on me, for two full minutes without the shower running. Interesting as I was rather expecting the operating room would be cleaned/sterilized before use. Hopefully they are using real anesthesia not just a shot of whiskey and a stick clenched in one's teeth. I know they want you awake enough to slide onto the FREEZING operating room table. Apparently, that is to cover themselves in case they drop you in transfer. Also from past experience, I have discovered they do not listen to any witticisms you may have at the moment of truth. Then it's la la land. 

I have been seeking out positive recovery stories rather than the doom & gloom each medical person has laid on me in the last month or so.  So far 1) one attended a wedding a week later; 2) I may be driving in two weeks (if it wasn't my driving leg-it is); 3) one riding his motorcycle 10 days after hip replacement though my friend tells me her husband is not one to take No lightly. Slight setback when one lady told me her friend actually managed to break her titanium hip. Strongest metal my rear admiral!

On the plus side I have a stack of magazines and a literal bag of books my sister laid on me. The bag was so heavy I still haven't taken it out of the car. Completed my interview on Cannabis production issues which will play the month of October and have the next interview lined up for later next month, so I'm off-duty. UPDATE:  Ran into an ex-colleague at the game who agreed to appear on my podcast to talk about construction oh yah. Another month's program. I may take Christmas off. 

I DIGRESS Told you my mind is not right-maybe it never was.  Just texted neighbor at the lake to be sure my coffee pot is unplugged. I NEVER leave heat producing appliances plugged in. Occupational hazard hanging out with fire folks is you learn a thing or two. When on a post-fire investigation I was able to see the actual track of the fire directly from a plugged-in toaster. Made me get religion about not trusting certain appliances because we are not always so careful with how we plug in, pull out or manhandle cords. Internal damage that one cannot see could result in a little bit of hot-hot (technical term) building up and oops; time for the big red truck to make an appearance. 

Speaking of the big red truck I was able to experience riding in the back of one, in a jump seat, in the open air wearing an ill-fitting fire helmet. General hilarity ensued. I've also ridden in the back of the ambulance which I will state are not really designed for anyone to ride in safely unless they are the one lying down oddly enough. One must weigh performing life-saving techniques vs. rocking and rolling in the frantic race to the hospital. Request the I.V. be inserted in before you start....

UH OH OK, in all the mounds of detailed info and disclaimers from the Dr. there are still questions. No food or drink after midnight-check. No meds (believe me missing my pain med on my 7-day abstention). No jewelry-check. No nail polish-check. No make-up-check. No hair products-check. Sweatpants and roomy T-shirt-check. But what about underwear? No one has said anything about underwear 😕Peace out....💚 💛💙

SQUEEZABLE THOUGHTS (September 18)

WEATHER OR NOT If you want to predict the next bout of bad weather try following the athletic endeavors of a near and dear one. The Joe has signed up for flag football so of course the next rainfall is predicted for this afternoon. Well we've gotten wet before following his exploits.  Though they are calling it scattered rain possible. Nope it's hitting right at 2 pm when the flagging begins. 

There used to be a radio personality in GR in the 60's who always would pronounce it "scathered showers" much to my amusement. He was a retired TV cowboy which begs the question where do all the unemployed cowboys and clowns end up? Talking weather I guess. Though I do not recall Clarabel, Bozo or Howdy Doodie for that matter tickling the airways with their own weather renditions. Can you picture a marionette gracing the green board talking about the weather - little wooden hands tracking the latest storm on the map. Sesame Street creatures could also be tapped with Oscar giving the really bad weather, Kermit singing green songs about sunny days and Cookie Monster eating the set. 

Then there was the guy who hosted the Popeye cartoon show in Detroit claiming to be of a nautical background. About as much as the famous spinach eater himself.  And of course, we all remember Soupy Sales who starred with the notorious White Fang and always ended his programs with a pie in the face though it must have been a strain for the writers to come up with so many different pie-face scenarios.   

TO SQUEEGEE OR NOT Our own local weather man always stumbles over the words "thunderstorms" which comes out kind of garbled. Actually, Lansingites do have their own style of pronunciation. A roof is not pronounced like what a dog says; T's in words are ignored (Spar'an) and R's are added in odd places like Wa r shington. Now if one is a professional clown or cowboy allowances can be made. I did hear one pretentious speaker use the term squeegee when I am pretty sure he meant segue which allowed me to squeezy into a mental picture of the man at a traffic light, sponge in hand, waiting to smear my windshield for a donation. 

English is a funny language too, to, two. Inflammable and flammable (same thing), entrance (door) and entrance (mesmerize), ketchup or catsup; and mispronunciations are inevitable. Human beans (beings), liberry (library). One could be talking to a wri'er about books and squeegee to a conversation about funding liberries. No doubt my podcasts have revealed my own personal squeegees that are now preserved forever in the cloud.

QUE PASA*  Squeegeeing to the next topic I am starting talks with the Safety and Security Chief at a large cannabis retail chain. IP (indirect pun when one considers "chain smoking"). Of course there is a whole plethora of products that grace the shelves of this burgeoning industry. One relative explained his first foray into a legal "pot shop" where the clerk waxed poetic about the different types of product and their intended purpose and effect. Cutting the pitch short his only question was "what can get me highest the fastest?" As they say, the customer is always right.  My own experience was checking out, what I thought was a glass blowing shop, that exuded a familiar aroma. It was a glass shop for pipes and holders for the wacky weed.  Not really interested but those were the most mellow friendly storekeepers I have ever met. If I can obtain this interview, it will of course make a great follow-up to the MIOSHA cannabis grower and producer hazards podcast in October. 

HAPPIEST TIME OF YEAR Though Christmas decor is starting to pop up in the usual places we still have my favorite holiday, Halloween to enjoy first. I saw a lady in the Meijer's parking lot gaily decorating her rear license plate with a string of tiny little skulls-very festive. Then I noticed her "stump" resting on a roller cart. Was not sure which was scarier - her little skull baubles or her heavily bandaged half a leg. But she was thoroughly enjoying herself so have at it dear lady. Happy Hollows.

Our last week of summer is dawning sunny, warm and golden-partially because the leaves have started to turn. My very last hummer bird is still dining at the feeder so I hope the cool nights have provided a hint that he needs to book his passage south soon. The masses of tomatoes are coming to final colorful explosions and the great give-away has begun. Also this is my last week of a mostly intact body so scrambling to prep for my downtime. Peace out ,,,, 💚 💙💛

*program note: que pasa is a slang greeting along the lines of "wha's happening" popularized by Cheech and Chong when in a haze of happy 😎

DANCE MOVES (Sept 11)

SEPTEMBER 11- We will never forget. 😢

AFTER THE FLUSH I have spoken before that there are jobs people perform for which I have much respect as they are dangerous, distasteful and nasty to name a few.  One such came to mind as we drove by one of the City's pumping station, sewage pumping station. Reminds me of the song "a pump station has it's life underground with the perfect disguise above". I had been in that particular station with its nice clean brick exterior and a deep interior that takes more than a minute or two to make it to the surface if an alarm sounds. I got the (technical term) heebie jeebies just being inside it for a brief period. Yet an inspector goes in alone and a whole team if there is a major malfunction. Makes me believe robots have a role. 

SURGERY TO SENIOR MOMENTS Speaking of which, my surgeon is performing my knee "castration" solo, i.e., no robotics involved-boo. Well he's young and no doubt has the stamina to flip these arthritic pieces and parts with energy and gusto. Though I just spoke with someone who mentioned their friend managed to BREAK their titanium hip joint - damn.  It's getting real as I picked up my old people walker. You should see me whip it around, dance and perform gymnastics with the darn thing. Yeah funny now.  After it made it to the car a couple more errands were run. I fussed briefly that someone could just steal it out of the back seat but in retrospect the perp would probably make a very slow and obvious get-away. Easy capture. 

And speaking of the ever-evolving galaxy of "senior world" may we discuss the lighter side of hearing loss. Some may recall my dramatic eardrum blowup last Fall.  Pros-turn bad ear up when sleeping cuts noise; insults lose their punch especially if there is a proliferation of consonants in the phrasing; spousal disagreements are avoided 'cause if you can't hear, you can't react; a smile and nod usually suffice as a response. Ignoring someone becomes easier. Cons - smile and nod become rather silly when a question demanding an answer is presented. That uncomfortable stare you get as the questioner regards you impatiently with that confused look on their face. Responding appropriately is luck basically. One says "huh" frequently or the more polite, pardon? Gets old. 

Though it's not all fun and games. If you find a conversation veering into "cabbages or broken marigolds" you may want to listen harder. You might have just sold your car for Olive Garden gift cards or agreed to chair the church festival. And DOUBLE precaution. Always listen and repeat grandchildren comments or you may find your grandson sailing off the shed roof on a piece of cardboard with their assumption of your full knowledge and consent. Speaking of grandsons over the Labor Day holiday the two "Joes" taught me a new fishing term - QR. Otherwise known as quick release which apparently covers the unfortunate "loss" of the big one who tossed the hook before landing.

MEMORIES Hosting some family members this weekend meant a lot of stories, some I never heard before so interesting. Then of course my brother-in-law and I get into job disasters I have known each topping the other with renditions of body part mayhem and dumb things people do in the name of expediency over safety. And to top it off several fire departments put on a show on our bridge stealing water out of our canal so their rookies could get some practice handling the charged hoses. A task I have done during agility testing and failed to pass. There's a reason more than one FF is on a hose but of course you don't train that way. Adrenaline and an active fire scene help as well. Funny connection, since I waxed ad nauseum on the topic, but I was able to convince my fire department folks that hearing protection really works when standing next to a pumper belching out 100+ decibels. After donning the Mickey Mouses they realized they were able to carry on a conversation with the bad bad (technical term) noise filtered out. Somewhat important when someone yells out "MORE PRESSURE!" "MORE PUMPERS!" "WHERE'S THE NEAREST RIVER?"  "#%?@!", etc. etc.  Peace Out...💚 💙💛

                                                                  

STORM WITHIN/WITHOUT (August 28, Sept 4)

 "You are saying it's no big deal with your voice, but why are you making the mad face?" Can't hide it from the grandson when he does something utterly bizarre, and I say no big deal. He should make an excellent reader of "tells" at the poker table one day. 

I know two weeks. Well, we were slightly inconvenienced (4 days no power, 5 for cable; two days of cleaning up the aftermath) by a nasty storm that rolled through bent upon vengeance on an unsuspecting public. A few more like that and we won't have to worry about the rest of the trees threatening our naked roof and pergola. As we huddled in the basement clutching our favorite flashlight listening to sirens, wind and locomotive style rain I was looking at the wine wall behind the bar. In a bid for good health before the "great cutting" I gave up booze until after surgery. Which prompted the immortal words "I sure picked a lousy time to give up drinking". Spoiler alert-we survived and so did my frozen girl scout cookies and assorted meats. Though my main concern during the crisis was how long I could go before I could "flush" as we were running the generator periodically. Coupled with every street awash with fallen trees, wires, smashed thingies, trying to get to a gas station was harrowing. 

                 

                                  

The joint replacement "lamze" class was pretty much as advertised. This could happen, or that hardly ever happens and if you wake up on Ward 6 you did not have a good day. Blame the robot I guess. I think they covered each disaster, infection, amputation possibility and I echo the words of the OH during the real Lamaze class "I ain't doing that" but I will. Also, similar to Lamaze you have x amount of days to get in tiptop shape bringing on the second act of a gymnast and a third act of a nutritionist. Maybe we could have had the heads up a bit further back, like 20 years ago. As I dance into class, taking the stairs of course, I am surrounded by canes, walkers and walking casts. I feel like a fraud. Until I tried the exercises, they suggested we do, for real, 100 to 150 times A DAY. Well overachiever that I am, I tried and proceeded to blow out my good leg. When I relayed the info to the doctor his immortal words "don't do the exercises" (silent duhh). 

The surgeon's "spiel" as he called it further outlined the percentages of bad outcomes-thanks Doc. After his recitation I of course asked, "but will I be able to play the violin?" No humor but his resident enjoyed the old chestnut I am sure. I am and always will be, a smart ass. Dutifully trying to get my blood tests and MRSA nose job before my next anesthetic pre-meeting on the 5th I was roughly turned away from the lab as it being "too early" before the surgery. Called my hospital nurse who said "bullshit" or something to that effect, "I'll call them and reeducate. Go back tomorrow." Same location, same dance though more rudely this time. For those not in the know MRSA is that nasty little skin bacteria that likes to turn septic and run roughshod through a hospital so assuring people are clean is somewhat priority one. Using me as an inter-departmental punching bag however is not fun. 

The Doc did reiterate that the first couple of weeks are going to be hell-they are so cheerful or fall back on the "told you so" in case of disgruntled customers, of which he noted run 10 to 15 percent. Not a cheerful statistic. So in that first couple of weeks figuring out a basement laundry scenerio is essential. I can crawl down with a couple of books once a week and just pass the day with a porta potty or Uber to the lake house where everything is on one floor. However my thought is to purchase 47 pair of underwear to get by and rotate a lot of sweats. Obviously the OH will have to figure out his own strategy.

Meeting so many people lately intently interested in my health, and asking the same litany of questions over and over has jumbled names and areas of expertise so I started calling them "sweetie". I am so ashamed. I now get why age-appropriate folks resort to that. I am not proud but it gets the job dpne.

Further stories next week though we are entertaining all weekend. Have laptop will travel. Peace Out 💚 💙💛