Imbolc Valentine Moon

Snow storm headed our way. March and April are big snow months in the Rockies. Looking forward to watching the snow fall and temperatures drop. Black Mountain will be white again for a while. Shadow Mountain, too. Flakes already spitting as I went out to get the paper.
We’ve settled into a routine of sorts. Sometime during the day I swap out Kate’s tpn bag. She assists by drawing up the vitamins. I make small meals or heat up left overs. We both eat when we’re hungry rather than at meal times except for breakfast. Being hooked up to the oxygen concentrator all day, her nutrition bag, too, makes Kate restricted in her movements. A major reason I bowed out at CBE. Responding to anything out of the ordinary is difficult for her right now. Lot of reading. Some television. Talking.
Placing the feeding tube awaits the pulmonologist’s assessment of Kate’s lungs. If she gives us a go, then the feeding tube could go in as soon as a week. That will change the routine. The J-tube, as it’s called because it goes into the jejunum, will not have the sterile procedures of the tpn and is gravity fed, so no pump. How things will look then we’ll have to see.
Our Kenmore frostless freezer forgot its prime directive. I had to take everything out yesterday. Fortunately, I had all those styrofoam coolers the folks at Option Care have been sending with vitamins and nutrition bags. Checked it on the way up here this morning, the freezer’s in the garage. Almost all the ice build up is gone. Gonna get out the lysol and wipe the whole thing down, restore what wasn’t freezer burned and turn it back on. Having a freezer in Minnesota in the winter always made me think of salesmen and Eskimos.
Though I’m tired by the afternoon, my energy level has begun to return to normal. We’ve still got a puzzle to solve, revealed by my illness. What do we do if I get sick again? Hard to imagine I’m gonna get something this dramatic again anytime soon, but it didn’t occur to us that I’d get sick at all. We’re noodling this one.
We also agreed yesterday that I can go out as long as I’m not more than a half hour away, have my phone with me, charged and on. That means I’ll be able to go to CBE events occasionally. This is a time of intensive healing for Kate, getting her nourishment levels back to normal, then working on weight gain. Don’t wanna screw that up in any way.
As to moving. We’re going to consult the pulmonologist who is the ultimate authority here on these matters. That’s this Thursday. Once we get her input we’ll be able to make more intelligent decisions.
We have impressive ice dams on our north facing roofs. Before the idea of a move came up I was going to have them removed and electric heat tape installed to prevent them in the future. Now each thing that involves putting more money in the house will require scrutiny. Still going to have the ice dams removed though. Not cheap.

Meanwhile the dogs are healthy. Rigel’s eating well. Her predatory instincts have remained strong. When I cleared the deck last week, a rabbit squirted out from under it and ran to the shed. No wonder she spends a lot time sniffing at the deck, clawing rocks out of the way (when things aren’t frozen). Kep’s blown his coat with the recent run of over 50 degree weather. Off to Petsmart this week for defurmination.
Then there’s Gertie. This bitch bit me in the thigh last week. Three holes in my leg, blood dripping down, and a monster bruise. She wanted to get to the gutter guy who was trying to give me an estimate on the heating tape. She has an anger problem when it comes to any visitors. She’ll bite without warning. That was the issue that caused Jon and Jen to decide to euthanize her. We took her to spare her life. Most of the time she’s a really sweet girl, all doggy leans and kisses, especially to me. She spends most of her time with me. But…

It’s no wonder medical costs are high. All of these things are one use only: syringes, nutrients, saline flushes and heparin flushes (each in their own individual packing), batteries, tubing, alcohol wipes, even the packaging for the deliveries. The need for sterility drives most of this. Kate’s picc line ends near her heart in the superior venous cava, which means there is a direct link between the outside, non-sterile world and that vip organ. Even the tiniest mistake in sterile procedure could have disastrous, catastrophic results. No pressure, eh?
Grieving now. Looking at things around the house with that critical, ok what do we need to do with this in order to sell the house eye. Driving up the mountain considering how many more times I’ll be able to see Black Mountain on my left as I climb Shadow Mountain to our home near its peak. Not anxious about it, just sad.
Every day I’m getting a bit stronger, stamina improving. Probably back to a new workout in a few days. I’m feeling the need to get moving, but my trainer said to wait another week. As my buddy Mark Odegard pointed out a couple of years ago, our old bodies don’t snap back the way they used to. I went way down with this whole illness and my body will require time to climb back up again.
Oh, my. Physical yesterday and a visit for Kate to see Lisa, too. We often go for each others appointments, especially with Lisa, our internist. I got a clean bill of health though I have to have labs drawn today. My follow-up chest x-ray was clear. Clear. No pneumonia, no disease process. Just clear. Wasn’t expecting that after the first one, but hey…
The woes of the body, our lamentations here on Shadow Mountain, are of the tactile world, the one bound up in life and death; but, they are not of the soul, the spirit, the ohr, the imago dei. No. In my soul (a word I’ve come to use more freely of late, meaning that part of me that bows to the god in you, namaste.) I can hear the sweet, though often very far-off hymn. It hails a new creation coming into existence even now, one shaped by the lamentations, but not determined by them.
Two saline flushes, then the heparin lock. Clamp the picc line. Half of the thiamine bottle, one each of the white cap and blue cap bottles, all injected into the tpn bag of milky, 950 calorie nutrition. The thiamine is yellow and floods into the bag creating a branched, river like stream. Shake the bag so that the vitamins and other additives mix up. Spike the bag with the plastic spike that connects to the tubing. Clamp the tubing. Connect the cassette that holds the tubing to the pump. It slides in and locks. New battery for the pump. Turn pump on. Wait, go through the pump’s programming. Unclamp the tubing. (lots of alcohol wipes in here. sterile technique required since the picc line ends just above the heart.) The tpn nutrients gradually, a milliliter at a time, snake up to the connector. Saline flush. Wipe. Connect tubing to picc lock. And, voila, breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Three weeks ago I drove through Denver around 8 pm exhausted and wondering why I was so damned tired. Getting home was hell. Today, thankfully, I’m able to be up and get things done. Still operating at about half to three-quarters power, stamina not great, but improving. Stronger today is my day phrase.