• Category Archives Health
  • Embarrassed to Admit

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Men’s group. Carol. Paul. The Greenhouse. Door and windows framed in. Seed order from Seed Saver’s Exchange has arrived. Ordered garden tools. Shabbat. Shadow, the tender. Israel. Iran. Lebanon. Palestinians. Saudi Arabia. Mark in Al Kharj. Jordan. Syria. Egypt. Iraq. Kuwait. The Emirates. War. Peace. Morning darkness. Waning gibbous Greenhouse Moon.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool Mountain Breeze

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: In a world scarred by war and diminished by autocrats daily life goes on, trips to the grocery store, conversations with friends, feeding the dog, until of course it does not. Or, cannot.

     

    My Seeds arrived. Heirloom varieties all. A nod to the Seed Saver’s among us, purchased from the Seed Saver’s Exchange near Decorah, Iowa. The Greenhouse will finish up next week. With the addition of soil to the three raised beds I will get started planting.

    With Shadow by my side I’ll return to the Andover/Kate years of Dogs and Gardens. At least in part. No Bees this time. No Orchard. No Kate. Still. Co-creation. Tending the soil. Weeding, nurturing seedlings. Harvesting. Eating. The true transubstantiation.

    Once again direct engagement with the Great Wheel’s blessings of Rain and Sun, Night and Day, growing season and fallow time.

    When Nathan finishes, I’m going to have Rabbi Jamie and maybe some friends over to hang a mezuzah on its door, bless it. Artemis.

     

    Living with pain: Embarrassed to admit it. Halle suggested setting my alarm for an hour. Then, get up and spend five minutes moving around. Embarrassed for three reasons: 1. Halle can’t be more than twenty-five. 2. I’ve read, know about this life hack. 3. It reveals how much I sit these days.

    Even so. When the student is ready, the teacher arrives. Halle, in spite of her youth, is my teacher. I’ve been doing this hack for the last two days and it really helps. Keeps the hips and legs lubricated plus I get something done.

    Just now I went outside and played the stop, drop, turn and move on game with Shadow. Called her a few times. Five minutes well spent.

    Next five minutes I’ll make breakfast. Will take longer than five minutes but that’s fine. Perhaps after breakfast, I’ll read for an hour, then at the five minute break head up to the loft to continue my painting that I started a week ago.

    All easy enough. Yet habit and mood have kept me in my chair for too long for too long.

     

    Just a moment: We’ve passed out of the world hegemon era to one of regional conflicts. Russia trying to assert itself in the old Soviet Bloc. Israel attacking all of its Shia enemies. China advancing its navy into the South China Sea, claiming once and always Taiwan. The renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.

    A world of regional powers rather than a global one (or, two) is unstable. Many flashpoints. Iran. Ukraine. Island chains near Japan, the Philippines, Taiwan.

     


  • It’s Survivable

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Halle. P.T. Rain. Thunder. Overhead. Shadow. Her protection of her territory. The Greenhouse: door and windows framed in, rafters up. Nathan. Vince. The Jangs. Fatherhood. My son. Seoah. Israel. Iran. Red tie guy. Jim Butcher. Fully leafed Aspens. Lodgepole Pollen. Yellow, yellow, yellow.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fawns, calves, kits, cubs

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: Alert, front paws on the head of the bed, the danger detector Shadow looked out over the backyard, her lean muscled body ready, there: bark, bark, bark, bark, bark. 1:15 am

     

    Dog journal: Shadow came inside. Her outside work done. The Doe had left the yard. She seemed happy to see me, to be back inside. Last night, as she has for previous nights, she crawled up on the bed, only to look out the window.

    And what to her wandering eyes should appear. Lots of Trees and, another Mule Deer? Whatever it was, it needed warning. Get out of my yard. Right now. At least she was inside the tent barking out, rather than outside barking in.

    Shadow.

     

    Israel/Iran: Netanyahu survived a close vote in parliament. Next step? Bomb Iran. I understand the attack on Iran and its nuclear program. One nuclear weapon could take out Jerusalem.

    I also understand that for the first time in several decades Hezbollah no longer threatens northern Israel as it once did. Hamas has suffered degradation in the forever war in Gaza. The Houthis have taken strikes from both the U.S. and Israel. This means that the Iranian proxy armies no longer have the punchback power they did a year ago.

    Yes, I get all that. But what about a year from now? Two years? Ten? Israel has become an aggressor state, no longer acting only in its own defense. The Arab states will remember. Will plan. Will fight back. Perhaps not now, but later? It’s a certainty.

    Better to have brokered peace deals with the Emirates, the Sauds, Jordan, the new regime in Syria, maybe even Egypt.

    Now the way forward lies littered with bomb craters, terror attacks, regional tensions remaining high. This is not a victory. It’s a powerful statement, yes, but only one statement in a centuries long dispute. The only way out is peace.

     

    Just a moment: I asked Halle, my p.t. therapist, if she would miss the Mountains. She leaves for Dallas in August.

    Her smile lit up, “I sure will. But if I want to preserve my tax status I have to leave for four or five months. I’ll be back in January for snowboarding!” Something about choosing a tax home and the rules for traveling nurses, physical therapists.

    Halle’s parents were up here last weekend. That’s when she found out about her grandfather’s prostate cancer. He’s in his mid-eighties. Most likely they won’t treat him.

    I told her to tell him two things: it’s survivable and he has lots of company.

     


  • A World of Difference

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Shadow, barking. At night. Outside. The Mule Deer Doe. Nathan. The Greenhouse. Framed up. Seed order. Great Sol. Another blue Sky Colorado morning. Altitude. Maxwell Creek full. Kate’s Creek full. Lodgepole Pollen making driveways and car windshields yellow.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Harry Dresden

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: A Mule Deer Doe, human habituated, entered the yard yesterday which excited the herding Dog, Shadow; she approached barking, the Doe did not flinch, had me worried since Mule Deer and Elk can kill a Dog with a swift kick, Shadow persisted, but kept a reasonable distance.

     

    Dog journal: This proved a longer story. Both Nathan and I tried to convince the Doe to leave. Harassing Wild Neighbors comes with living up here. Feeding Deer, Elk, Bears creates situations where animals may need to be euthanized. Somebody has fed this Doe. She would not be harassed out of the yard.

    Shadow took her role in all this with such seriousness that she would not come in last night, preferring to remain outside in case the Doe tried something funny over night. Apparently she did because Shadow barked, loud and long, at three separate times during the night.

    Oh, god. That was my Dog disturbing the peace of a Mountain night. She would not come in, nor be silenced. She was at work.

    Not my best sleep as a result. Hope the Doe goes on to literally greener pastures. And, I also hope the Bull Elk who have come for the Dandelions don’t return this year.

     

    The Greenhouse: The framing is done. Nathan says it goes faster from this point. Since he learned that I’m a Japanophile, especially when it comes to design, he’s going to toss in a few Japanese flourishes to the door and other spots.

    Nathan is a good man. Strong work ethic. Loves Dogs and the Mountains. A serial entrepreneur he’s owned a trucking company, a handyman business, and now Colorado Coop and Garden. His partner runs a pet-sitting business.

    They live in Conifer to the south and west of Shadow Mountain.

    My seed order is in the mail. Better get myself a new houri knife. Soil under my fingernails again. Looking forward to it.

     

    Cancer: No, not mine. Generation C. Millennials. Read a heart-rending story of a 25 year old man in Utah with stage 4 colon cancer. He held on until his daughter was born. Article did not say whether he died. 25!

    The same article shows the rate of cancer for young people rising while, paradoxically, it’s falling for those over fifty. I don’t know what to make of this. Neither do the medical folks. Something is happen’, but we just don’t know what it is.

    At 78 I’d prefer not to have cancer. Of course. Yet at my age life has been mostly lived. A son out in the world on his own. A career or two finished. Loves and Dogs and Travels.

    Worlds apart. Stage 4 cancer at 25, stage 4 cancer at 78.

     


  • A Splendid Beltane So Far

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Alan. Diane. Tom. Paul. Jamie. Luke and Leo. Tara. Halle. Natalie. Shadow, my Shadow. Kate, always Kate. Morning darkness. Great Sol and the Dawn. Mother Earth. Beltane, the growing season underway. My uprooted Lodgepole. Still leaning. Morrison Inn. Bear Creek Canyon. Kittredge. Evergreen. Conifer.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: Parking becoming expensive in  our little Mountain towns like Morrison and Evergreen, even street parking now five dollars an hour in Evergreen, two fifty in Morrison, fine for the Denver touristas, I suppose, but pricey for those of us for whom these quaint places are where we shop and dine during the week.

     

    Dog journal: Once again I woke up and Shadow had curled up next to me sometime in the night. We’re moving at a quicker pace now, Shadow and me. Still matters to resolve, but so much more positive. Thanks, Natalie

     

    Oh: My back and leg pain seems to have calmed down to some extent. Could have been, in part, stress about the cancer/pain nexus. Not sure. Driving still exacerbates my left side sciatica. So much so that even short drives now wear me out.

    Hope the SPRINT device can knock that one out. As with Shadow, better, but not there yet.

     

    Cancer: Feeling as light about this as I have in a year. Last year, when Kristie transferred my care to Dr. Bupathi, she also set me up with a radiology oncologist, Dr. Lincoln. When seeing him, he said I was hormone resistant. That’s the downhill slope of Stage 4 prostate cancer.

    I left that visit shaken, since he said any radiation he would do would have no real purpose.

    Then, Kristie told me that she didn’t diagnose hormone resistance unless the PSA went up on two drugs, not just one. The visit in which I would learn my PSA while on both Erleada and Orgovyx, Bupathi’s lab screwed up and didn’t have a result. Sent me down a rabbit hole of uncertainty. Took a while to get back to level.

    Then, Bupathi wanted the MRI of my hip and the new PET scan. Put me right back down the rabbit hole.

    Now though, with those imaging tests behind me and with positive results I feel like I’m in as good a place as I can be. A long bout of uncertainty which coincided with the Shadow experience, also stressful for me.

    Add in back and leg pain. First six months of 2025 not joyful. The SPRINT device, if it works, will relieve the primary focus of my days: chronic pain.

    Shadow has begun to soften, to let go of her trauma induced fears. Soon, maybe as soon as today, we’ll have her on a leash.

    Cancer. Back and leg pain. Shadow. All in or moving toward marked improvement. All in the same week. Odd. But appreciated. I’m recognizing the good here.

    Nathan laid in the greenhouse foundation yesterday and starts construction of the frame today. June’s shaping up to be a good month all round.

    Oh, and my two classes. New story class finished last week. Radical Roots of Religion finishes tomorrow.

    What will l do with the new energy? Paint. Write. Hike a bit. Read more. Reconsider travel to Korea if the SPRINT device works.


  • Recognize the Good. And, the Bad

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Shadow, eater of window cranks. My son and his first week in his new job. Seoah working on the family farm. Guess who’s coming to America: the Jangs! Aug. 1-7. The Morning Service. SPRINT.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Canes

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: Days of needed rest after a couple of weeks in this machine, then another, seeing this doctor, then another, driving with a left hip that would rather complain than be helpful, days of leaning into positive news, good news, feeling relief, joy, satisfaction, shabbat for sure, these days of awe.

     

    Pain/Cancer coda: In the day after my news I owned a conflation I’d made. A putting together, even though conjectural, of my back and hip pain and my cancer. Natural since my oncologist wanted the MRI to see if I had new cancer in my hips.

    However. It also meant that with each twinge of pain from my back and legs a secondary specter emerged. My cancer had spread, gone to the bone, and I was in for a long, slow miserable death. I didn’t believe this. But I couldn’t not believe it either.

    I know correlation is not causation, but sometimes, when the pain comes from the same region where my cancer originated, for example, it’s hard to suspend a conclusion, to not skip right ahead to the obvious.

    Now that I know this is not the case, thanks to the imaging, I feel much lighter, as if I have life ahead of me rather than endurance and suffering. Facts, contrary to the current political zeitgeist, can set us free.

    Thank you for listening over these last few weeks.

     

    Just a moment: Crushing Latinos and allies protesting draconian immigration enforcement. Using the National Guard under a law allowing the President to deploy them to quell rebellion.

    Here’s a direct quote from an NYT article:

    “Mr. Trump’s directive said, “To the extent that protests or acts of violence directly inhibit the execution of the laws, they constitute a form of rebellion against the authority of the Government of the United States.”” NYT

    Read that again. If a protest blocks a street, diverts traffic, or should, say, walk on both lanes of a bridge outside Selma, Alabama that can be considered an act of rebellion.

    This is not a President enforcing Civil Rights laws; no, this is a President holding the fire hose with Bull O’Connor, standing on the steps of the Alabama capital with George Wallace, holding an axe handle with Lester Maddox.

    This is the same as using faux actions against anti-Semitism to punish East Coast Universities.

    Orwell called it double-speak. It is real and may be coming to a town or an issue near you.

     

    Here’s another quote from the same pages of the NYT: “Southern Baptists plan to vote this week on acting to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges, the Supreme Court ruling that legalized gay marriage 10 years ago this month.” NYT

    Jesus Christ. WWJD. Come on. Let’s explore that great commandment: Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Of course, what’s on display here really is a group of folks who cannot love themselves due to all the guilt wanting to take love from people who don’t feel guilty for who they are. Put that in your DEI pipe.

     

     

     

     


  • Good Friday

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Shabbat gratefuls: Shabbat. Cancer news. SPRINT news. Shadow, more and more. Greenhouse news. Nathan. Natalie. My son. Mary and her balloons. Seoah. Mark in between terms in Al Kharj. The Hajj. Eid. The Akedah. Torah. Talmud Torah. Rain and chilly nights. Ruby with her summer sandals.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: PET Scan

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good) “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: Once in a while, not often, but once in a while, the One pulses through me, my chi dancing a tango with my neshama, the flow of sacred power running from the ayn sof through me to malkhut, lighting up the sefirot on the Tree of Life like bumpers on a pinball machine, a buzz of embracing and being embraced, of being one with, yet also one as myself with the One, and so it is today. Can the congregation say amen?

     

    Back pain and cancer: My Friday began in the normal way. A creaky, painful emergence from the one sixtieth of death the rabbi’s call sleep, my wandering neshama returned to its fleshly vessel, Shadow licking my head, chewing on my blanket. Oh, Shadow.

    Unsteady on my cane (made in the Ukraine and beautiful) I lurch a bit, get my feet moving. Morning medications. Let Shadow outside, fill her water bowl. Retrieve coffee and mineral water from upstairs.

    Flop into the chair. Grab my laptop and begin writing Ancientrails. Finish. Still two hours before my 8:30 call with Taylor, Dr. Buphati’s P.A. Hard to wait. A feeling a bit like Christmas in terms of anticipatory edge though knowing it could be Krampus delivering coal and sticks rather than Santa Claus.

    Set out on this tiring journey during my visit with Rich to Buphati almost three weeks ago. After, MRI and PET scan. New PSA. Waiting. A time of uncertainty. Will the MRI show metastatic lesions in my right hip? Will the PET scan show more metastases? Will my worst fears be confirmed, that my pain is not back and hip pain, but cancer turned aggressive, out of control?

    8:40. 8:45. No Taylor. A telehealth visit with only a screen assuring me, oddly, that I am in Taylor Taroyasan. I wasn’t.

    At 8:46, a nurse. We’re having technical difficulties here. Ah. The scourge of our technological era. The dreaded difficulties.

    Then, Taylor. Without her mask since this is zoom, or zoom like.

    No lesions on the hip. MRI. PET scan showed no new metastases and the ones from a year ago took up less of the tracer, in a couple of instances a lot less. That means less activity in the cancer cells. After the span of a year! That’s really good news. Hormone therapy may always fail, I’m assured that it does, but not yet.

    The problem with my right hip, the MRI revealed, is a tear inside the labrum of my right hip. The labrum is a sort of organic o-ring around the hip socket that gives the ball of the hip a good seal as it turns and twists. Not uncommon. Maybe a quarter of people have some degree of wear and tear on their labrum. Mine’s acting up.

    An orthopedic referral. No surgery in my near term future though. Because in the next 4-6 weeks, I’ll have a SPRINT device implanted. While it’s in, for sixty days, no MRIs or surgery. Could give relief up to two years or longer. For my back and hip pain. Wowzer. I’m holding low expectations, but am ready for a good result.

    I learned this from Kylie whom I saw after my telehealth visit with Taylor.

    For the trifecta:

    Greenhouse: Later in the day on Friday I got this e-mail from Nathan:  “Good news! The pavers finally came in this evening. I will plan on starting back in first thing Monday morning and will put in long days and get your greenhouse done ASAP! Thank you for your patience. You will not be disappointed with the finished product.”

    All in all. A good Friday.


  • Godzilla v Mothra

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Irv, Tom. New Human Consciousness. Halle. Hip and leg pain. Exquisite. Kylie today. Taylor today. Natalie today. Alan today. Shabbat this evening. Shadow, chewer of duvets. Sweet morning girl. Tara. Susan. Diane. Morning darkness.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Information

    Week Kavannah: Shleimut. Wholeness and Peacefulness.

    One brief shining: Rain and slow delivery of plastic foundation tiles has delayed the construction of the greenhouse, but I’m ok with that since it will be a slow project, maybe flowers more than vegetables this year, not sure what the later planting schedules can yield.

     

    Greenhouse: Nathan asked me a week ago if I would prefer plastic foundation tiles, better for water runoff in Spring. Sure, I said. He didn’t know then that the delivery of these tiles would not happen until this evening. He’s very apologetic, going to cut me a break on labor at the end of the project. Things like filling my raised beds with soil. Kind of him

    The delayed construction has drained some of my enthusiasm for the project, though I imagine once the construction gets going that will return. Besides, it’s a long haul project. Once it’s up the fun begins.

    Next week Nathan will have a helper and he’s done a lot of precutting so the greenhouse will go up fast.

     

    Dog journal: During my nap yesterday Shadow jumped up on the bed, lay with her head on my legs, and slept. Such a sweet moment. With her willingness to hug me and get hugged back, her greater ease with the threshold (far from resolved), and her willingness to be on a leash, we’ve moved into new territory.

    Of course. While on the bed, she did rip my duvet, allowing goose feathers to escape. Buying cloth tape to fix it. No sense being elaborate since she’ll probably do it again. Gonna buy new bedroom stuff from carpet to bed to nightstand after she finds her maturity.

    Shadow has also mastered the stairs to the main level. She’s up there right now while I write on the lower level. Wonder what she’s doing?

     

    Health: A significant Friday morning. Taylor, Dr. Buphati’s P.A., (oh, Shadow just came back down) will tell me the results of my MRI and my PET scan. As usual, my anxiety titer hits its peak about now. Do I have many more metastases? Is there cancer in my hip joint? And if so, what happens next?

    That’s at 8:30. Then, at 9:40 I see Kylie to get slipstreamed into the medical process again, this time for the SPRINT neurostimulator device implantation. My life would be better if my pain were less.

     

    Just a moment: Aw. The Donald and the African-American coming to blows. Elon’s intelligence and his libertarian revulsion toward government bonded with Trump’s Revenge and Chaos tour. Result? Madness.

    Now Trump’s willingness to do whatever he wants whenever he wants with no underlying rationale other than personal animus and a narcissistic belief that any thought passing through his mind is big and beautiful has clashed with Musk’s libertarian, tear it all down and don’t let it get back up sensibility. This is a perverted form of ideological logic versus irrationality. Will not end well. For any party affected. Including the U.S.


  • Not the Monk’s Simplicity? Or, is it?

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Jamie. Radical roots of religion. Shadow. Rain. Chilly night again. Wind. Natalie. MVP. Hip and back pain. Shirley Waste. Buddy Ode on Youtube. Halle, the traveling physical therapist. A sweet gal. Tara. Ruth in Alaska. The Commander. Seoah. Murdoch. Mary and Mark. Diane.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: PET Scan

    Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life. Accepting it all and being grateful for it.

    One brief shining: Once more into the metal and plastic breach, my son, to see what can’t be seen with the eyes of nature, this time positronic emission tomography enhanced with a radio isotope that binds to prostate cancer cells flowing through my circulatory system as I lay on the moving bed, pushed slowly through the donut, too warm, yet handling it.

     

    Cancer and back pain: I know. A steady drumbeat. This pain. That scan. This doc. That one. This last two weeks has been…oh, how do you say it? A bit much.

    I’m not alone. Friends seeing docs a lot, too. Cardiologists. Nephrologists. Oncologists. Pain docs. Life in the retired lane replaces work with hospitals, medical clinics. Imaging with and without contrast. Expensive drugs.

    Friday morning should reveal the latest. Do I have more metastases? If so where are they? In my hip? Am I qualified now for the SPRINT device? Telehealth.

    Current observation. Chronic pain, which most of us will never know, clouds each day, marks a path filled with things, formerly done with ease, rendered literally out of reach.

    It reaches into even the quiet places, tires us out, makes us want to live very simply. No unnecessary, triggering movements. No unnecessary upsets. Things like water in a dog’s bowl. Taking the trash out to the street. Standing and cooking. Each one a calculation of desire versus pain. This is not the monk’s simplicity. Or, is it? Maybe the lesson here is paring down life to its necessities. Doing less, with less. Maybe pain has a spiritual lesson about shleimut, wholeness and peacefulness. Or, maybe it’s just pain.

    Wore my Los Alamos t-shirt purchased for my 35 sessions of radiation. Danger Radioactive Material with the familiar three yellow hash marks and the circle in the middle. Waited for 50 minutes with the lights turned down low as the 68Ga-PSMA-11 tracer wound its way through my blood system hunting for the PSMA protein.

    Laid down. Covered up. Over the next twenty minutes moved slowly through the machine. Palm trees in the ceiling tiles at both openings. Sending me to Hawai’i and my days with my son and Seoah there.

    The hour long drive to the PET Scan clinic another exercise in pain management. Singing out loud helps. I don’t look forward to drives of almost any length. Sciatica makes each time in the car a bit of the inquisition with not even its twisted purpose as a rationale.

    This has been a difficult couple of weeks. Too much pain. Too much medical scrutiny. Too many unresolved questions.

    There have been highlights. Shadow and our hugs, her happiness. Tara driving me to the open-sided MRI. Natalie’s careful, expert work. Nathan’s getting things ready. Rereading the Dresden Files novels. Morning prayers. Rain to dampen the Forests and swell the Creeks.

     


  • The Shepherd’s Lantern

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Morning service. Morning darkness. The bird of dawn. Setting people free. Making firm our steps. Shadow at 4:30 am. Happy. A chilly night. JD, man of ambition. Shepherd’s lantern. Ukraine’s drones. The lives of simple people. Of angry people. Of cautious people. Of wise people.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: White tip of the herding dog’s tail.

    Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life. Accepting it all and being grateful for it.

    One brief shining: Drove down the hill through the Front Range Foothills, geology and orogeny on display, small cliffs of Granite, pink and black Gneiss, made more beautiful by the Rain, Lodgepoles, White Pines, Ponderosas, and Aspens on Mountain sides, Grass greened by the Rains, Hwy 285 cutting its steep decline toward the High Plains which appear beyond the Hogbacks, evidence of an orogeny older than the one that pushed the Rockies up above, both demonstrating the power of continental drift, great sheets of Rock moving; slow, but unrelenting force, enough to remake our world.

     

    Back pain and cancer: Last week and this there has been a flurry of activity around these two. P.T. MRIs. Oncology appointment. PET scan today. Another oncology telehealth on Friday am. Pain doc appointment on Friday, too.

    Pain doc prepping me for the SPRINT device. Oncologist letting me know the MRI and the PET scan results.

    These two are unrelated pathologically; however, they entwine thanks to lower back and leg pain occurring where prostate cancer tends to spread. They also entwine when the back/leg pain chips away at my resilience. Takes work to stay level.

    Ready in both instances for whatever comes next.

     

    Dog journal: I walked Shadow on a leash yesterday. All was well until the leash snagged a downed Lodgepole branch. Shadow thought the branch had begun to chase her. Natalie had me drop the leash.

    Shadow ran inside the house, next to my chair. When pushed, next to my chair is her safe spot. Good to know.

    I got Shadow on February 4th, four months ago tomorrow. She’s been a challenge. At times I’ve wondered if I could follow through. Today though I have no doubt. As I wrote earlier, her story and mine will be told together.

    The Shepherd’s Lantern. I couldn’t find Shadow in the yard when Natalie came. Then, I spotted Shadow’s tail, held erect, obvious by its white tip. “That’s the Shepherd’s Lantern,” Natalie said, “I only learned this a couple of weeks ago.” Check herding breeds. White tipped tails are common.

     

    Just a moment: My friends talk of news diets. Of putting down the podcast. Turning off the TV. Not even reading headlines, much less stories. I sense this is more intention than action.

    Why? We’re taught, aren’t we, that staying up with the news is critical for a citizen of a democracy. Civics 101. Yet what to do when the news singes your eyeballs. Boils the blood. Clenches the fist. Engenders feelings of helplessness.

    My hunch is that only action can really work. What kind of action? Depends on you. What you’re willing/able to do. However. We cannot abdicate our role, however small it might be. Our history has more years, more elections to play out and we must prepare the way.