Category Archives: Health

Aches and Pains Week

Mabon                                                                        Moon of the First Snow

This has been an aches and pains week. Pain, chronic pain, with which Kate is too familiar, can sap drive, make life difficult. This week we’ve both been hit by pains and accompanying disruption in our sleep. The combination of sleep deprivation and pain makes it very difficult for me to focus on anything that requires attention, thought.

Chainsaws vibrate. A lot. And, they’re noisy and dangerous. In addition the fast movement of the chain has a gyroscopic effect that makes the saw want to move in its own way, so part of using one is occasionally working against that force. Trees weigh a lot and the larger the branches, the more they weigh, too. Using the chainsaw results in heavy labor immediately afterward. All of which I like, for some reason.

There’s plenty more work ahead, moving as I will today into the southwest portion of our front woods. My goal is to get the front done and have someone come move all that slash.

Last week I punctuated my chainsaw work with a two hour up and down hike with Ruth. It was a wonderful time for the two of us, not so wonderful for my back. These are the constant third phase trade-offs. This I can do, but it will make my arm sing hot music. This I can do, but my back will claim its prize at the end. This I can do, but I’ll have to sacrifice sleep as a result.

The paradox, the contradictory part of all this is that if I don’t do something, I’ll soon be able to do nothing. So rest or desisting from exercise, manual labor is not really an option, not for long. The physical therapy aims to get me back to a spot where these trade-offs are not as acute, not as persistent and frequent. But, it too, has its price. Time.

This is not complaint, just observation. It’s all as much a part of the third phase as all-nighters were of the second, both with tests and later with babies. This reality defines a certain part of what it means to be older, at least for most of us; but, it does not define all of aging, nor does it define the most important parts.

Futility

Mabon                                                                               Moon of the First Snow

P.T. this morning. Dana did some rotator cuff work that hurt like a summabit. Then it felt better. Learning more new exercises. Soon I will achieve that fated day when the things I do for self-care like working out, teeth, p.t. exercises, showering consume all my waking moments. Then the capacity to stay alive will meet futility.  Nah. Not really. But it feels like it right now.

Gray days. Snow predicted tomorrow. More trees to cut down, but this old body isn’t up to it today. Tomorrow. In the snow. Like a real Minnesotan.

Vega, Gertie and Kepler all come up to the loft. Vega stands outside the door and gives a soft but insistent bark. Let me in. Gertie paws at the door, already scarring the metal door, scraping off the green paint. Kepler comes up and stands outside the door. If I see him, I let him in. Otherwise he waits as long as it makes sense to him, then he goes back downstairs. All three of them are up here now, snoring. Rigel will not climb the stairs.

 

Unplugged

Mabon                                                                                    Moon of the First Snow

Still have snow under the pines, but on the driveway, in the way of Colorado, the snow melted with no need for removal. Most excellent.

We had an interesting medical event yesterday. And why not! This is the year of bodies gone wild. At least here on Black Mountain Drive. Kate had her shoulders x-rayed. Instead of getting any information about the shoulders though, when the nurse called with the results she said the radiologist found that Kate’s pacemaker wires were loose, disconnected. OMG.

After a call to the electro-physiologist, Kate got forwarded to the device department. Not kidding, actual name. When the device department called back, they asked her to do a tele-trace. This involves putting a small electromagnetic disc over the pacemaker. The disc and its machine then interrogate the pacemaker, check up on how it’s doing.

While on her way into Denver to pick up granddaughter Ruth, Kate got the call. The pacemaker responded to the interrogation and reported in as active. So, no disconnected wires. OMG. Please come in for your regular checkup next year. They are, and I’m glad, calling the radiologist to see WTF.

Maybe now we can get back to the shoulders.

 

Recovery, Generation, Remodeling

Mabon                                                                           Moon of the First Snow

Kate’s progressing in her recovery. Her right thumb seems more and more usable. It got the platelet injection. Her soft bandage gets replaced today with a harder cast. Her ability to maneuver with one good hand and four fingers amazes me. She’s making curtains for the loft right now, for example.

The generator got installed last week. John the plumber came over yesterday and ran the natural gas to it. It needs tweaking since it’s now living at 8,800 feet rather than 900 feet,   something like a 3% loss in efficiency for each thousand feet above sea level. You engineers who read this understand.

Ruth at 9The kitchen remodel proceeds apace. The cabinets are chosen. The appliances purchased. Custom cabinets are under construction. I’m most excited about better light. My rods and my cones they fail me. Not gathering illumination like they used to.

Granddaughter Ruth will be here Friday, Saturday, Sunday while her parents attend a school conference. Jon and Jen now work in the same school district so they can go to these things together.

Slowly, slowly the new place is coming together. By the Winter Solstice we should have solar generation of electricity, a new kitchen, a working generator and a mostly finished loft. Too, the fire mitigation and solar panel shading necessitated tree cutting should be well along, or finished.

 

 

Not Commendable, But True

Mabon                                                                    Moon of the First Snow

 

Not commendable, but true. I’m finding the pink ribbons, glowing reports of breast cancer survivors and the breathless joy of pink clad marathoners and professional athletes annoying. No, I don’t begrudge a single woman their successful treatment. Far from it. I’m glad.

It’s just that my own crew, prostate cancer survivors, have their cancer, get treatment, then get back to their lives. I don’t see blue ribbons (the color for prostate cancer. which makes some gender stereotypical sense) on cars, athlete’s sneakers, bedecking runners in the prostate cancer marathon. No smiling men surrounded by their buddies cheering them on.

This year the National Cancer Institute estimates there will be 231,480 new cases of breast cancer diagnosed, 14% of all new cancer cases. Over the same period it estimates 220,800 new cases of prostate cancer, 13.3% of all new cancer cases. Breast cancer will cause the death of 40,290 women and a small number of men, 6.8% of all cancer deaths. Prostate cancer will account for 27,450 deaths, 4.7% of all cancer deaths.

The numbers, then, are very similar though breast cancer does occur somewhat more often and causes more deaths.

 

Still, when I saw a woman celebrating her survival of stage 1 breast cancer being feted like a celebrity, a slow wave of rancor pulsed through me. I had stage 2. This is childish, I understand that. My cancer was worse than yours and you get all the fun. Geez.

A woman I know, when I confessed this emerging feeling, said, “Well, breasts are visible, more important to a woman’s sexual identity.” More important than sperm to a man’s? I thought this, but didn’t counter. The childishness part repressed there, thank god.

Would I want to have my face with a victorious I put prostate cancer in its place expression made available to public news services? Probably not. But I’m sure there are men who would be delighted.

Not quite sure what I want from this conversation, but I needed to put it out there.

 

 

 

Joints. No, Not That Kind.

Mabon                                                                             Elk Rut Moon

As cancer season faded out in late September, so joint season took over in early October. Kate’s surgery for her painful thumb took place yesterday. Tom Crane had the same surgery last year. It’s a well practiced procedure with consistent results, after the swelling goes down and the three months of swaddling the hand is over. There are many things to learn how to do right handed: tie your shoes (not), hold a stair railing going up, take a shower without getting the bandage wet, dress yourself. And many more.

She also got a platelet injection in her right thumb, the one that has rheumatoid arthritis. This is a non-covered procedure that improves joint function in some people. The physician takes your own blood, puts in a centrifuge, separates out the platelets, then injects those platelets into the base of the thumb. My physical therapist’s mother got three years of back pain relief from platelets.

While Kate figures out how to engage life with one hand, the physical therapist has me doing an increasingly long series of exercises to exorcise (ooohh, exercises to exorcise) the referred pain from my arthritic cervical vertebrae. I like p.t. because it’s non-invasive and has worked well for me each time I’ve done it.

Here on Shadow Mountain we’re all about joints in October.

Surgery. Done Right.

Mabon                                                                        Elk Rut Moon

The waning crescent Elk Rut moon stood off in the east this morning with Jupiter just above. Beautiful.

Kate had her thumb surgery and platelet injection, left and right respectively. The surgery went well according to the surgeon Janet Leo. Kate’s resting and preparing for her first night post-op. I’m headed to the grocery store to pick up pain meds and few supplies for the weekend.

Arms Joined Hand to Elbow

Mabon                                                                     Elk Rut Moon

In my cancer season I had significant conversations with Bill Schmidt (at the International Wolf Center) and Mark Odegard (at Camp Du Nord and by e-mail) and Charlie Haislet (Camp Du Nord). Each in their own way helped me place my cancer in perspective. Mark’s own experience with prostate cancer gave me the most practical help, what to expect from the surgery and its aftermath. Bill and I talked, as we often do, about matters cosmological and philosophical, putting cancer itself in the broader context of life as a terminal disease. Charlie recounted his knowledge of patient’s husbands and fellow docs, emphasizing as he did the effectiveness of current treatments.

This is the Woolly way.  All three of these conversations occurred while we were on retreat at the YMCA’s northern Minnesota Camp Du Nord. These conversations happened on the ancientrail of friendship, the strongest bond among humans outside the bounds of family.

At this remove from cancer season, which ended for now on September 25th, I can see the web of support that carried me on its strong threads. Though we are existentially and finally alone, we are also alone together. My image of the web is of arms joined hand to elbow in a network mesh, a bouncy but tough net, warm in its embrace and durable.

This goes by way of saying thank you. More gratitude.

 

More Physical Therapy

Mabon                                                                        Elk Rut Moon

The waning of the golden aspen leaves has begun. The weather has become wetter and gloomier, all presaging the onset of late fall. This is the first month of the snow season here and elevations above 10,000 feet are already seeing regular snow though not a lot. Nothing in the immediate forecast for Shadow, Black and Conifer mountains, our rocky neighborhood.

Had a second physical therapy appointment today. This is a very different approach than my last round two years ago. Dana has focused on postural, neck and spine issues rather than muscle strengthening around my shoulder. She mobilized my spine, dug her fingers in at my neck and around my left scapula and gave me two more exercises. That brings me up to five right now: neck tucks, shoulder blade dips, setting my head at neutral, now looking toward my pocket after turning left and right and a modified yoga stretch while lying on my side and extending my arms, together, as far as they will go away from my body horizontally.

Oddly, Dana did not demonstrate the latter exercise, which she said she would normally do. Why? She broke a rib last Thursday during a particularly delicate adjustment on a patient. I don’t think of P.T. as a dangerous occupation.

 

Uh-oh. Gotta close the windows.

Mabon                                                                     Elk Rut Moon

Started physical therapy for my arthritis, scoliosis, muscle tightness on Thursday. Dana, my therapist, is a very sharp woman, maybe early 40’s. She has me tucking my chin into my chest, folding my shoulder blades up, then down and paying attention to the tilt of my head in a mirror. The muscle relaxant I’ve been given is peculiar. It has a sedative effect and knocks me out when I take it. But, each night at 1:15-1:19, it wears off and I wake up. It’s half life goes on a bit longer so I get back to sleep pretty well.

Tonight though, it’s 2:00 a.m. right now, I woke up at 1:15 and noticed a flash of light. Then some thunder. Then the sound of rain drops. Ooops. I’d forgotten to shut the windows in the loft. No. I shut them. No. I didn’t. It’ll be ok. It won’t rain much. You don’t know that. Oh, alright. So up I came. Sure enough the windows were open. Not raining much, but hard to predict.

Kate and I went into Conifer last night for appetizers and every restaurant we tried had 25-30 minute wait times. Unusual. Tourists out for something. People drive away from their homes, even come to stay for a few days, to get to the place where Kate and I live. Sorta neat. Except when the restaurant wait times are 25-30 minutes. We turned around, drove past our house and on down Black Mountain Drive to Brook Forest Inn. Good choice. This old lodge is between Evergreen and Conifer, just like we are, out of the way for tourist traffic unless you’re staying there.

And, the food is good. It’s the local joint closest to our house. We’re semi-regulars there now and are beginning to get to know people. We may go over there on Sunday for the Vikings-Broncos game. Cutting cable means no local channels, so no football.