Spring Rushing Waters Moon
Kate’s in Swedish yet again. On O2 up here her oxygen saturation went down to 87. Runs about 98% on O2 on Shadow Mountain. She was also short of breath. That continued down the hill, but her O2 saturation rebounded. She had a chest x-ray, a c.t., and received some prednisone and a bronchodilator. Did not fix the shortness of breath. Meanwhile, Alex from Colorado Pulmonary Intensivists called with the results of her attempt to hook up Edwin Smith and the cardio-thoracic surgeon for the j-tube, lung biopsy. But we weren’t home.
Kate said she’s tired of this, the visits to the E.R. Said I must be, too. No, I told her. You remember, I reminded her, how I developed my commuterman persona to cope with all the trips in to St. Paul with Joseph? Yes. Well, now I’m caregiver man. I do what’s needed. Getting mad in rush hour traffic accomplished nothing but upsetting me, as fussing over this or that as a caregiver doesn’t change our reality, what needs to get done.
That’s not to say I’m immune to the stress. It comes. May have knocked my immune system back enough to make me vulnerable to the flu, pneumonia, that bad cold. Hard to tell. I don’t, however, project into the future. Caregiver man works in the present, stays there as best he can. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
On a lighter note. When I got my second PSA done, the phlebotomist had pictures of her dogs on the wall. I commented. We got to talking about dogs. She had one, a smallish German shepherd like bitch. She loves to hunt, often comes in with a tail and two hind legs sticking out of her mouth. I mentioned Rigel and the time she upchucked a clear eyed rabbits head on the carpet. Well, she said, I have another one. This same girl once brought me back a full rack of ribs. Dressed. I laughed. So did she. Dogs.
There’s not a car wash in Conifer. Too much water use for our arid, rocky land. We don’t go down the hill much so our Rav4 is often dirty. Got gas down the hill yesterday. They had a car wash. Ah ha. I took advantage. First time in a couple, three months. I’m sitting there as the car wash machine starts spurting water and soap from its car sized mechanical arms. Reading. A whooosh of water and I feel it. Just a little. So I make sure all the windows are up. They are. Whooosh. Some water leaks onto my head, then more. Damn. The moon roof. It was open! Next pass even more water as I fumbled with the controls. They work differently than the one I used all the time in the Celica. I got it closed, but not before I had water streaming down my face. Even I could see the humor. After I got the moon roof closed.
On the way home I got off 73 and headed up Shadow Mountain Drive to find, a traffic jam. ? Cars snaked far around the curves out of sight. What? Luckily this is the information age. I opened my phone. After stopping and putting the now clean Rav4 in park. Went to google, typed in Nextdoor Shadow Mountain. Sure enough. A guy had rolled a gray pickup further up the road. He was in handcuffs. That explained the traffic jam.
Many cars turned around, got out of line. Many of us didn’t. The reason? Mountain roads. In order to get to our house, less than 3 miles up Shadow Mountain Drive, I would have to get back on 73, drive a good distance toward Evergreen, find Blue Creek Road, drive across it to Brook River Drive, turn left and drive miles to get home. Much easier to wait. The jam cleared. I got home.