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 💚 💙💛

NOT MY BEST IDEA... (August 21)

 

2-WHEELING Ah Michigan. Shorts and flip flops in March if there is a whisper of Spring and slacks/jeans in August with a whiff of 60 degrees. I really have respect for the intrepid motorcycle contingent. Braving iffy weather for the thrill of the ride. Though not sure which is worse those monsoon-like rainstorms in summer or the sneaky patch of black ice as they tease out just a little longer season. The Police I worked with at the City hung up their Harleys on November first regardless. Funny I never got to do a ride-along with the motorcycle fuzz. No doubt due to my lack of cool knee-high Harley boots.

I tried the 2-wheeled world briefly but never got out of my neighborhood, though I was excellent circling the house in first gear. I discovered I was able to pick up my Honda 250 after it fell on me though, which is part of the initiation phase of "biking". Extremely dramatic of course which is why one wears leather and helmets and boots and gloves and... shoulder pads...chest protectors...face mask...designated driver.. but I digress. Mine was a private spectacle though a neighbor did express concern. The OH knew better than to say anything negative or of the "told you so" variety. Slide out from under, pick up traitorous machine, climb aboard and zip out in first gear once again.  My brother, a Kawasaki aficionado, called it a baby bike and proceeded to show me by riding my bike with his belly stretched over the seat and his feet hanging out the back end. Real funny. 

I marvel at those hoisting vehicles so big their feet cannot touch the ground unless in a hard lean which I'm guessing teaches one to make smaller and smaller circles, so you don't have to come to a complete stop. Cars just don't understand the obstacle they present to riders. I guess I am just better at the back seat position, though it is hard not to lean into turns with your host. Another tip-do not look at the speedometer from the rear seat with a careless driver. My "Polish bike (his word) brother took it up over 100 mph on a well-traveled road with me clinging like a barnacle on a ship bottom.    

JACK IT UP! Speaking of speed, snowmobiles. Michigan has two seasons: winter and construction. On a mid-winter (February) trip to the Upper P-way up-Marquette for a conference, what does one do on the off hours (besides drinking and the only place in the world I sing Karaoke)? They bring their snow machines. My only experience with the snow toy was in ancient times when a little yellow ski doo was all the rage. So, when it was suggested we try out the machines, in the dark (full moon on a trail) in Marquette I was all in. Shall we say, ahem, things have changed. 

Climbing into the foul weather gear, think toddler in a snowsuit, boots, hat wanting to go potty-you are trapped.  Waddling out to the innocent looking machine was exercise in itself. Then imagine blasting through the woods in the dark hanging on for dear life with nothing behind you to hold you on the seat. Those suckers move! I almost got dumped during that ride but with the noise I don't think my friend would have even noticed. Not to mention similar to a turtle I doubt I could have stood back up on my own considering I was encapsulated in 20 pounds of gear.  One thing that makes it safer, LOL, is the animals certainly hear you coming and get the hell out of the way.  All that being said, however, IT WAS AWESOME!  and valuable point, nobody died.  😮

I REALLY KNEED THIS Switching gears as I climb out of the snowmobile, I am so looking forward to my knee surgery Lamaze class, as I call it, this week. The OH has to go too as the caretaker. I am hoping it will be at least as graphic as the original Lamaze class where the immortal words were spoken "no, I'm not doing that".  No, not me the OH when they showed the home birth video. Sometimes too much information is too much. 

I still think so many people believe women just drop them babies, no sweat and get back on the wagon train on their way to Californ I A. Media has painted an unrealistic picture of the 1800's and beyond when it comes to birthing. They never show the bonneted woman cussing out her old man or explains why they boil the water; just no big deal and baby at the end. Nobody wants to know how they make the sausage and why the sausage needs autonomy over her own life.  Peace Out....💚  💙💛 

                                                                            

WATERED DOWN (August 14)

Wild time at the ole watering park last week.  Yes, there was a lot of water and noise and humidity and little people bouncing off the proverbial walls.  On the bright side, my hair reacted beautifully to the tropical environment and curled nicely. Every type of swimsuit was featured with yours truly in actually a more modest skirted version. I swear people do not look in the mirror before they venture out, but no one asked my opinion (my new mantra). Apparently, I am considered opinionated so I'm working on it. 

One of the (multitudes of) lifeguards kept bugging me offering me way too much advice on where to stand to get the best pictures, lingering in my personal space as I watched for the intrepid daredevils to emerge from the "tube" and continually trying to engage in conversation. Almost missed the spectacular image of Grandpa and Joe shooting out of the tube and crashing into the wall- awesome!

When the time came for tumbling down the chute I invoked the "claustrophobia" card, so Grandpa did the honors by riding through the tube with the boy. Neither one looked happy at the end so whew! Though I did want to try it after I saw them go through, Joe was not a fan of a second run. He did try the body surfing attraction and I was rather intrigued until I realized I met half of the "precautions". You know "do not take this ride if you have....HBP, Osteo, loose bathing suit, paranoia, rickets, malaria, etc."  I did partake of the "Lazy River" eschewing the inner tube (that we all look so graceful entering and exiting) and just power walked with the current-have to get those steps in!

Though advertised as a luxurious experience, not so much. Everything was extra and the restaurant where "kids eat free" was a bit of a challenge.  Like the "Hotel California" you can order but you can never eat apparently due to the crowds, lack of wait staff and too few tables. The Joe did perform an impromptu song and dance routine with the clerk in the gift shop earning him a free sticker, however. He also discovered a VR (virtual reality) set-up in the arcade which took most of his money. Funny to watch when you're not in the game as the player swats at unseen predators and screeches to unknown terrors in the VR world. 

SAFETY STUFF Speaking of unknown terrors, (neat little segue) that is pretty much the description of an EHS professional.  Although we do try to anticipate the terrors/hazards and educate and protect appropriately. I was a big believer of using other people's experience as a guide. Always a win if someone does not die upon receiving said experience. 

Line workers would practice pole top rescue as occasionally one zigs instead of zags resulting in hanging from one's gear unconscious. Before I came on the scene, they were using themselves. Live bodies being "manhandled" off the pole after receiving the precordial thump (sternum punch). That led to obtaining our first Resusci Annie dummy. I won't even go into the inappropriate ways they referred to the young lady during training.  As they would say after I became their safety skate all the fun went out of their work. I bear the criticism proudly.

 I also destroyed the fire-fighter's confidence in their rescue "trampolines" as I pointed out no way to test them unless they wanted to take the leap themselves. Then there was the shotgun in the plant supervisor's office in case they needed to shoot down pigeons that managed to get inside the plant, umm no. Leaving only the risk of possible histoplasmosis from the pigeon droppings vs. the errant shot, angry worker or bloody carcass crashing to the ground. Or the crazy question from an engineer no less, "do we really have to vent the generator outside?" (though I think he wanted to blame Safety as it was cold). Yes, no fun at all.   So keep your powder dry and Peace Out.....💚  💙💛

RANDOM THOUGHTS August 7)

 

SAFETY RANT AHEAD Workplace accidents covered some headlines besides the three homicides in Lansing in the past week. A third teenager died this summer after becoming entangled in a conveyor system while cleaning a poultry plant at night. This occurred in Mississippi, one of the states working hard to roll back child labor laws. Another State wants to allow 14 year olds to bartend. Now there's a recipe for disaster. Sexual harassment and exploitation of minors is not even a consideration apparently. Because people drinking always make intelligent decisions.

On a personal level I can never get a regular bartender to understand vodka gimlet "up".  Usually get it in a rocks glass...on ice...arghh. Or telling a grasshopper that they have a drink named after them. "Steve he says in surprise".  I know. I had to break the mood. Being shorter would also be a factor when someone asks for "top shelf liquor", but I'm sure they will have safe ladders and other help to reach the lofty location.  Order bar stock-the life you save may be underage. 

I am still infuriated by a Director I accompanied to an awards ceremony at a factory achieving a stellar safety and health record. His private comments to me were "it's all luck anyway, right?" Diplomacy where did I keep that. Also that I didn't deck the guy for his uneducated callous attitude, not to mention repudiation of my entire career, can only be attributed to my legendary self-control. 😉 People don't really want to die or be maimed, but oh well we can just hire another warm body. Don't get me started on the die press that killed two 20 somethings who ran beneath the press between strokes to reset the controls that kept shorting out. Fortunately people lived long enough at the first factory to retire and the clueless "big shot" continued his political career and further bad decisions.

Which makes me think of fear - the great leveler. Two examples from work. A gentleman, after being electrocuted and fortunately brought back to life could never again do the highly dangerous, complicated and well-paid work. During recovery his nearest and dearest kept telling him he would never be safe again. Second example is a line worker with intense burns from a 17k line not only recovered but worked every day in the same capacity. One lost his nerve from fear, the other chose to rely on his training, protective gear and supervision to keep him safe. But it's only luck right?

I'm of the "get back on the horse" type after mayhem, but as I get older I am either more timid or wiser. 

NEVER GETS OLD On a personal level I was reminded this week of a totally Mom/Dad thing we do.  Even though our children are grown and independent we still need an occasional "check-in".  What we want to say "are you still alive? Are you happy? Do you need me for anything?"  Of course we are not quite so literal.  Usually it ends up a quick text (today's vernacular) "how are the roads? (did you make it to where you were going)" "Did you see this ad for thingamajigs/concert/festival/store (are you happy?) "I have a such and such, do you need one? (self-explanatory)"

 I remember the obligatory weekly calls to Mom which were five minutes of news and 45 of crabbing which were her way of posing the three questions. Do I really care that a 2nd cousin twice removed won the Nobel prize for physics or maybe that was a doofus award for showing up at work two days in a row.  Or the price of kumquats is rising, better "get me some". Or your brother/sister/nephew/total stranger did thus and so to who knows who. Miss those calls actually as they told me she was alright, until she wasn't. My way of putting it is "the umbilical cord stretches but it never breaks". 

SEAT ASSIGNMENTS During pandemic as we tentatively ventured back to familiar venues like church I found a spot that suited me. On the end, middle of the church, lots of social distancing. Once the masks were off, people started encroaching. I could make my mean face, but I just get there early. Same spot, still some social distancing but I noticed something interesting. People tend to sit in the same seats. As the OH says Lutherans who arrive early move down the row for newcomers. Catholics grab that aisle seat and only move to let latecomers get into the middle of the row. Same rule applies on a plane for me but at least I can designate an assigned seat. Another pet peeve. I would rarely, if ever, attend a concert/show, etc. unless there are assigned seats. 

Anyway I noticed the three other people in my church row were somewhat infirm (read canes). As I will be sporting my own mobility device after surgery apparently I am already in the right row! 

On our way this afternoon to Soaring Eagle Water Park for a couple of days with the grandboy so publishing early. Of course the weather turned to snot so no mini golf on the way up and no outdoor pool lounging.  Peace out.... 💚  💙💛