ONE DAY AT A TIME (July 1)

 

Happy post-surgery number 4! Oddly enough, it's feels better to stand than to sit, an exerciser's dream. Though I have been warned multiple times to limit the walking for a bit "Wonder Woman". So I will sit at the laptop for a bit. Most of the pain is from the incision site that is easily relieved by not moving; talk about your irony. I have the happy pills, but don't see that they change much (taken 2) so as long as I can sleep on my side, I'm good. I'm also cursed with the need to use good posture-bummer. Slouching is out. 

Got a cryptic text from an unknown sender the day before surgery that said you have a procedure at 9:30 not 12:15. Bring ID and medical card. I could only assume it was the awesome AI that Sparrow uses. Confusing, but apparently correct on the timing. Even though I never made the OR until at least 1:00 pm.

In pre-op, as nerves and the 20 oz of Gatorade they made me drink kept me visiting (whether I needed to or not) the restroom, I was not there when the volunteer came around to check us in. Upon my return, she asked if my driver was leaving and then coming back to fetch me pointing to the OH. I said he better after 53 years of carting me around. What the hell? He said she asked him if he was the patient and he said no, I'm the driver. Well technically correct and he did not want to be mistaken for the one going under the knife. For the record I had to hit the john twice more after the IV's were in as they were so far behind before it was my turn. Apparently not unusual as when I pushed the call button the nurse popped in and said bathroom? 

 Being fully awake as I was wheeled in was disconcerting. I wish I could describe the table they put you on for the procedure. Think massage table with the face cut out resembling more of a conveyor belt than a mattress. It had a couple of foam pads in strategic spots, but how the hell they maneuver you perfectly on this narrow metal torture platform I have no idea. Resident told me, well there were 4 of us to put you on. One of the anesthesia nurses good naturedly described it as a massage table but no massage. Well, it certainly feels like they were doing the salsa on my back afterwards-just my thought. It was like I was in a James Bond movie. "Do you intend to torture me for information? No Mr. Bond I intend to kill you" kind of vibe.

Last thing I remember was seeing my vital stats displayed on a, no other way to describe it, jumbo-tron on the facing wall. What stood out to me was my middle name Eileen which was interesting as it is both my mother's and daughter's middle name as well, so I was in good company before blackout time. Best part when I came back to the living around five, they offered me a popsicle - bless you, and grape my favorite! I actually managed to polish it off before they got me to my hospital room. Did I mention I had been without nourishment (except Gatorade) since midnight the night before? It was purple ambrosia although I startled my visitors with a black tongue later. Part of my dinner was a cup of grapes which my son-in-law ordered me to eat as I actually didn't have much of an appetite after being loaded up with drugs from surgery. Never had a twinge from my back all night however...until it wears off. 

My grandson stood to one side and kept asking me how I was feeling and how much he enjoyed the talks we have. It dawned on me that he had been worried and seeing me tied up to the IV in a hospital must have upset him more than I realized. He did lose his other grandpa unexpectedly. I shared some of my dinner with him and assured him everything was cool. In addition to them rallying around being hilarious (a family trait during emergencies) I'm guessing the last three grapes they forced me to eat made all the difference. My sister still hasn't forgiven me for being, I thought, quite entertaining during her labor and delivery. Well, she wanted us to be there. 

 Though they were pretty good at not waking me to do "stuff" my bathroom breaks seemed to coincide with their need to take BP, etc. Then the light popped on at 6:15 when I was totally out, and the Doctor's resident was there to pull the siphon out of my back. However, we had already handled that task on one of my potty breaks. The tech asked me if I wanted to see it and I said sure. That nasty thing was about 4 or 5 inches long and covered with, oh never mind. I cannot tell you the number of people who were privy to my backside-geez. Since I can't see it, not sure if my lone tattoo was harmed in any way. Can't wait to take a shower tomorrow. Very scientifically the instructions stated that when I shower, I must cover the incision with press and seal. When I asked what that was, the Doc said Cling Wrap.  LOL. 

Ok time to grab some Gatorade Zero and try to get up and moving without groaning. The OH did get me a grabber tool as I am not supposed to bend, twist or lift anything heavier than paper clip. I'm getting rather good at it figuring out difficult lifts and grabbing oddly shaped objects.  Peace out...💚  💛💙

                                                                     

THAT'S LIFE (June 24)

JP PHILOSOPHY I started up the blog thingee again after a few years as I wanted my grandson to know his Nana had/has a life and might get a kick out of my misadventures. But this past week I also enjoyed hearing his perspective on life when he visited last week. He's usually not firing on all cylinders in the morning, so he was rather quiet. I throw a couple of convo starters out there and then just listen. This newly minted sixth grader proceeded to give me a science lesson on the make-up of the sun and its eventual break down into a dwarf star. He then moved on to why do humans throw so much trash and litter into our world as we are destroying it. Finally, he pointed out that technically humans are an invasive species that is literally "messing its own nest". He's not wrong. This boy almost loves animals more than people, so his worldview is noteworthy as he was genuinely puzzled by human behavior. Like the emperor's new clothes, he sees the truth. At what age do we give up and take a pass while figuratively wringing our hands? At any rate refreshing, and a little bit hopeful.

              

FUN WITH POLITICS The complaint is that Biden is not exciting the voters. Well as one pundit put it, "we don't get excited about a fire extinguisher, but we prefer that to the fire." Another thought. Does anyone have a problem with the trumper saying people of a darker hue are jonesing on his mug shot and have more respect for him as a convicted felon? In other words, he has condemned an entire group of people as nothing but gangsters and thugs who worship felons. Wow. And finally, in that I wished I'd thought of it, someone labeled the Presidential debate as an episode of Antiques Roadshow. See there is humor to be found.

UPDATE This week marks the 4th and, hopefully, final surgical intervention of the year. There is a certain fatigue factor that has me crashing in the late afternoon. If I don't get everything done in the am, my tank runneth empty. The problem does not seem to be the knee which can literally, handle good ole Susanna and her banjo to boot. So, fingers crossed snapping the backbone should get the energy back to at least 2nd gear. Still getting my 15 to 20,000 steps in, (depending on the day) but it is a challenge. The Doc has high expectations and calls me a "go-getter" which I assume is a technical term for Ms Pain-in-the butt expecting a miracle cure...

I LOVE A PARADE Made the Parade of Homes rounds last couple of days. The pickings are slim to say the least. There were two monsters that would require live-in, hot and cold running staff to keep clean. One was 1.4 million. Who lives like that?  In a slightly candid discussion with the realtor, he admitted to "think big exec with obscene housing allowance." They are expected to entertain (like I said, need for staff). Also, like middle school girls the houses had a similar vibe of features that mimicked each other regardless of the builder. Mud-type rooms are apparently in complete with coat closets, benches, cubbies. One had both a doggie shower station and a bookshelf hiding a media room. All we could think of was "cool, tornado shelter". White and gray walls were the norm except for the obligatory bedroom in pink concession. Fireplace decor only goes up halfway with stone matching the exterior. The OH kept asking why would you have such a dinky 4-burner stove in these McMansions? He literally asked, every time. All realtors/builders agreed with him.  Every excess you would ever want to consume and dinky stoves. Obviously, no one cooks, they just order whatever takeout that goes with whatever resides in their built-in wine fridges (a feature for which I am in favor). Another shock was the 1-bedroom condo (though you can make the office into a bedroom) for $475,000. Whowee. One house was plunked into a developing, virgin sub-division deep in the woods with a stagnant pond - lovely but think mosquitos and windstorms toppling trees.

One unit of measurement we have used over the years is "how many homeless can you fit in the sauna?" Now it's the butler's pantry or mudroom or laundry or media space. Style and tastes change. There was even a set of 12 tiny houses on a one-acre plot that used to be a trailer park. 700 sq. feet renting for almost $1500 a month at the end of a street that had a F---Biden flag hanging on a house (no doubt the wife did it). So, number of homeless - 0; Neighborhood - also 0.   Peace out...💚  💙💛

GETTING IT DONE (June 16)

                                    

COUNTDOWN Trying to get all the big chores out of the way before I am laid up again. Painted the deck a brighter shade than the "peanut butter/baby poop" color we had before. I'm sorry. Sherwin Williams called it "Smoky Topaz". Though both colors match the auxiliary deck which is odd. Paint has gone up, a lot, in the four years since we painted last. How do I know when we last did it? As I was perusing good old Facebook at the end of the day pictures popped up from four years ago celebrating the painting of the deck! Cue the spooky music. Pic 1-2019  Pic 2-2024

Which brings up a construction joke. Do not eat aluminum you will sheet metal

NEXT ADVENTURE Had my pre-anesthesia appointment last week. This is the one where they lay out the doom and gloom and the odds of you surviving intact. 6% chance of a whoops compared to a 3% for the knee. This way they are covered if you wake up dead, I guess. Which is about as silly as the dude on Family Feud the other night. Yes, we watch cable and don't pay for any streaming services. When asked "When should a woman not get a haircut?" The guy says, "before her funeral". Right up there with the question "If your wife was gone, on a scale of one to ten, how much would you miss her" The two answers were 5 and 1. Neither guy was married. 

The medical staff are so nonchalant about the possible ugly scenarios. I asked if I would be enjoying an ensemble like last September for my knockout shot. She looked puzzled and said we don't have any resident anesthesiologists. Ok-who were all those people and who popped the shot last September? Maybe I should just call Sam, but we were all having such a good time, what the hey. Actually, it's general anesthesia this time with a breathing tube as I will be on my stomach, no doubt on a massage table with the face part cut out. Don't ask me, I will be asleep. As I am required to drink 20 oz of Gatorade before the procedure, I hope they will be wearing their splash goggles. 

Of course, they weigh you (they are obsessed) fully clothed and after breakfast-not fair. However, my BMI was in the good girl range as she put my height down as 5'5" ??? Only 2 1/2 inches off. Hopefully they will be weighing and measuring several times before zero hour. They ask your name, birthdate and procedure about fifty times and then magic mark the surgical area. I won't be able to participate in the paint by number exercise this time as it's behind me. No doubt mistakes have been made in the past; hence the eagerness to make the patient part of any possible faux pas. My fear with the knee was I would wake up with the wrong knee bandaged. As this spot is right above the buttocks, location should be pretty much nailed. 

Pre-op is fun until you lose consciousness; an assembly line of naked bodies wrapped in back opening matching gowns in various stages of prep. After a week of special soap and two showers with antiseptic soap the morning of, the victim er patient is given five pre-moistened and thankfully, warm cleaning strips that are very specifically to be used in a specific order on various body parts. If a germ escapes it was meant to be. The area is rather busy actually so I can see why they ask you so many times if you are really you. I'm looking for the day we all have our micro-chips installed which should eliminate some of the guesswork, apparently, on the surgeon's part. 

AND THEN All this wandering downtown Lansing has let me enjoy the absolutely horrible roads around the Capitol. I'm kind of torn. Should the capital of Michigan have the best roads, or should they be the last to be repaired and the road money be used where it's needed the most. Working for government for many years it seemed we were always the last to get updated materials, training or technology. Working as a public servant certainly emphasizes the servant part. Again torn, as we are working off taxpayer money, but we could be so much more efficient (even less employees) if we had better tools. 

AND FURTHER There is something so decadent about working on a laptop at the lake with the water as your backdrop. I attended a ZOOM meeting for the Conference last week from the lake. I was also sipping a beer. But as I am not technically working for anyone but myself bring on the adult beverages. I am much more relaxed working while retired "WWR". Speaking of water, does anyone else have bathroom dreams? I often dream about looking for a bathroom and when I find one for some reason it is not private and I move on to the next chapter which is usually trying to leave a large City, but I keep missing the entrance to the expressway. I mean I always need to go when I get up from bed, and I know where the bathroom is, but are the two things related? Our psyche is such an interesting place. 

Happy Father's Day to all the male influencers out there. But the OH is not getting out of grilling my steak later tonight as the daughter already took him golfing. We miss you Dad.  Peace out..💚 💙💛

I HAVE NO WORDS (June 10)

 

ONLY WORDS Placeholder words. I have been noticing the variety of them. You know the acknowledgement one gives when the speaker is confirming or looking for feedback. To pick on millennials, they seem to prefer got'cha or fine-fine; boomers are ok with ok and the eye doctor's tech prefers "perfect" every time I noted the correct letter or pretty much anything I said. I felt like a little kid bubbling over with confirmation every time I said anything. Apparently, it was not an actual conversation, and I am not special. It's like we have to fill every empty conversational space with something. Then I really love the "thank you" no "thank YOU", well then "thank you". You're welcome works or just a pleasant head nod to end the endless litany of euphemisms. Taken to the extreme, I envision a war for the last word or, to be named most polite person on the planet, descending into fist fights and choke holds until someone cries. Fun times. Retirees have time on their hands for observations and are eager to talk.

In retrospect my, what I thought was polite, eye contact and silence seem to make people nervous. Not technically my intent, however, sometimes there is just nothing to excuse or add to statements and actions that are either self-evident or beyond belief. It also acts as a deterrent to mere bluster when a "player" has nothing to back up their claim besides their "opinion". Though in these days of silent but deadly I do understand the need for us to be a bit more verbal to diffuse possible misunderstandings. On the other hand sometimes, we get so busy talking we don't realize the lack of reaction could be dangerous. Nobody is shy anymore; they could actually be plotting something evil....

Not having any more to say was another reason I was rather quiet (I know hard to believe). When I was collecting on the paper route as a teenager I would be asked to come back later, run to the bank for them and literally screamed at-anything to avoid paying. As I had no other arrows in my quiver, I would just stand there silently until they miraculously came up with the money. Also worked with higher-ups who did not like the message I was delivering or Union folks who did not believe me. Again, standing patiently with no expression until they wound themselves down was usually effective. Hate to gender slash, but it was usually men who would pitch a fit including foot stamping. My not backing away also appeared powerful as personal space is a real thing. Moving into mine won't make me back up. My mindset was merely to accomplish whatever needed to be done. I hate unfinished tasks and indecision makes me nuts. I get an idea and I move-drives the OH crazy.

MINI RANT Speaking of blaming, got to love when your significant other throws you under the bus instead of taking responsibility, a learned trait from the current world where -it's not my fault; it's a conspiracy; I never did what I just showed you I did. I'm talking to you Justices Thomas and Alito. If it was a liberal Justice, they would have been hung in effigy (or literally) by now. Though it is possible Alito did not understand the significance of the flags they were flying...And why is a person who thinks Jewish space lasers start forest fires and shouldn't we feel the earth move if we're traveling at 1,000 miles an hour questioning a scientific scholar who has dedicated his life to this country? Trying to explain how science works to the uneducated reminds me of how hard it is to explain industrial hygiene hazards to folks. 

For example. Construction workers performing demolition. So much fun and chaos crashing and banging, ripping and tearing. But all those chemical and biological agents we release when material integrity is breached do damage. Dust, asbestos, lead, aggregate, ceramics, metals, etc. The health hazard of demo is at least as serious as burying someone in the debris and possibly worse as you can at least see the material that will crush you. Always told workers, as professionals you wear the safety gear just like suiting up to play football. Then we all had a good laugh. You suppose the linebackers complain about the weight and discomfort of the gear they have to wear? Probably. I'm not naive. 

On the other hand, proud of the way our country honored the men and women of WWII at Normandy last week. Like the Grand Canyon there is no way to describe the feeling you get when you view the cliffs and the multitude of crosses standing among the beautiful green fields lovingly cared for by the French people.  Peace out....💚...💙💛

Constant activity at the hummer bar today,

       

 

WHERE'S THE RHUBARB? (June 3)

 

SUMMERTIME The pontoon 2024 maiden voyage was accomplished on a perfect weather day. It is the only time I get color (tan) and I commandeer the seat right against the captain's console as it supports my back when I sit lengthwise. Who needs no stinking canopy which is where most guests scramble to take ownership of the seats under the shade. Speaking of backs, my fourth surgery since last September takes place on June 28 - whoopee. PT, chiropractic, grinning and bearing it have run their course. We go for the knife. The scheduler says I shouldn't expect Wonder Woman healing the first week so ok - two weeks. Good thing as the annual cook-out/birthday party takes place about two weeks later. One must have a goal. My sister has already "gifted" me about 45 new paperbacks in anticipation.

IN OTHER NEWS As we all face varying degrees of emotions after the latest conviction, should I remind that this is the THIRD trial he has lost? And we haven't got to the big ones yet. Remembering how folks lost their shi--- when Clinton got caught in an intern, character used to be important. Technically these are convictions for lying, cheating (real estate), sexual assault and political manipulation. Now it's whining that it's rigged, it's a conspiracy, it's political, nobody loves me-bingo. At what point does one realize the dude is being held accountable for his actions, new territory indeed. If the current President had so much power to manipulate the courts, don't you think he would have helped his son out by now? You know like the trump put tariffs on every item out of China except Ivanka's crap?  Yep-character is still important...for some. 

In other good news, the public has spoken, and prices are coming down. Can we now admit, although inflation played a role, a lot of the increases were due to obscene vendor and manufacturing profits? Hence room to charge a little less perhaps? Even new cars may be a better deal as inventory has caught up with demand. High prices cannot stand if folks will not pay $8 for a Big Mac or $60,000 for a sedan. The system works. Other good news: the cost of inhalers is capped at $35 along with insulin for Medicare participants. Darn that Biden keeping campaign promises that benefit the people. 

HUNTING FOR... Speaking of groceries (buy store brands!) I was on a hunt for rhubarb last week. After enjoying the delicious rhubarb/strawberry sauce at a friend's house the other day I was determined to replicate it for guests at the lake. At Meijers I addressed the guys loading the produce "Hey salad people any rhubarb?" Nothing on the truck they unloaded. Ok-google says Kroger's has it-nope. Finally admitting defeat, I tried the usually more expensive garden, fruit and veggie store (and liquor and popcorn and ice cream and soup and salad and music venue store). Success! A few stalks however looking a little worse for wear as their once proud green leaves were limp and squishy. But I only need the stalks. That store's salad dude said let me get you a fresh bunch which was much firmer and more beautiful. After unloading groceries at home, I took a quick bite of a loose piece of "rhubarb". Do you know what it tastes like when you wrap your produce in an old newspaper and leave it in the compost pile for three days? Well kind of like that because it was SWISS CHARD! Why did they have acres of swiss chard where my delightful rhubarb should have been residing?  Well for $3.99 I took it back so I could grab the sad-looking rhubarb. 

Side note: a lady nearby said "you want rhubarb, come to my house! It's taking over!" So obviously it's in season.

 Should have taken her up on it as when I returned to the store, the salad dude had thrown out my sad rhubarb. argghh.  However, the original friend kindly let me have some he had done up and frozen. I owe him big time though we did gift him some of the OH's potato salad. 

BIRD NEWS Hummer wars have started up. Our annual hummingbird freeloader has returned. As usual if another bird tries to enjoy some free sweets, bird number one immediately shows him/her the door. The aggression and kung fu moves are way out of proportion considering the size of the combatants. I mime in bird language that there is enough for all, but he's not buying it. He's also picky about the television being on which he assumes to be another interloper and possible sugar water thief. He hovers until I close the curtain or shut the TV down and his table for one is duly defended.

Speaking of birds, our first broods of the season have been launched at the lake - robins and ducks. After the guys do their bit, the rest is up to Mom as the mallards congregate and chill like teen-age boys everywhere.   Peace out --- 💚  💛💙