Category Archives: Health

Colorado, Cooking, Health, Jefferson County, Shadow Mountain, The West, Third Phase, Travel, Weather +Climate

Went West as an Old Man

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Lughnasa                                                                  Elk Rut Moon

Drove home Monday night, got in around 10 pm. Pretty whacked out from the drive and whatever is bugging my left elbow. The elbow made sleeping difficult to impossible. No sense paying for a bed I couldn’t sleep in.

On previous driving trips turning north marked the turn toward home. This time it was heading west. A different feeling. Turning north meant lakes, pine trees, wolves, a border with Canada, 40+ years of memories, cooler weather. Heading west conjures up wagon trains, First Nations people, the plains, aridity, mountains, elk, mule deer, moose, mountain lions and black bears. And less than a year’s worth of memories.

When I hit the Denver metro, an L.E.D. highway sign reminded truck drivers that they had to have chains with them from now until May 16th. The folks installing the generator wanted to get it done in early October because it’s possible to have thick snow cover soon after that.

Altitude makes a big difference.  The aspen have begun to turn up here on Shadow, Black and Conifer mountains. The effect is subtle, but beautiful. Various stands of aspen, small compared to the lodgepole and ponderosa and Colorado blue spruce that dominate the mountains above 8,000 feet, turn gold, accenting the evergreens. It’s a sort of arboreal mimicking of the gold rush as the color of the precious metal shows up, fleetingly, on mountain sides.

While I was gone, Jon finished five more bookshelves and put doors on the lower unit I’ll use for coffee and tea among other things. That means today I’ll start installing shelving and books. This should be enough to get all the remaining books onto shelves and off the floor. Organizing them will be a task of the fall.

Kate goes in for thumb surgery on Friday. That means three months or so of one-handedness, a long time for a seamstress/quilter/cook. The gas stove gets hooked up tomorrow and I’ll head to the grocery store for the first time in quite a while on Saturday. I’ll be at home on the range. Looking forward to it. She’s lost a lot of weight so one of my tasks will be to help her gain weight. An ironic task if there ever was one.

In further organ recital news I have yet another visit to an audiologist tomorrow. We’ll see what the new technology can do for the deteriorating hearing in my right ear. Kate’s hopeful they can do something for my left (deaf) ear, but I’m doubtful.

 

Health, Memories, Travel

Straight Across the Middle

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Lughnasa                                                                       Labor Day Moon

postopdaze350Just realized this is two months post surgery. A good sign, I imagine. Forgetting.  Not dwelling on what was, but living. Yes, there’s that super sensitive PSA next week, but I can’t change what it will be. Right now my gut tells me it will be fine. That’s enough for now.

Tomorrow morning the little gray Nissan Sentra will shift drivers from Kate to me. She’s on her way home right now from Tetonia, Idaho. The reunion for the Alexandria High School class of 1965 starts on Friday and it will take two days to get there. I-70 runs from Denver through Kansas, then Missouri and Illinois. It hits Indiana at Terre Haute, home of Larry Bird and the Federal Penitentiary where Timothy McVeigh was executed and where Boston bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev will die, too. After that the memories just keep on coming.

Class of 1965 Float (2)
From the 45th

The drive, a long one at 17 hours, is the same duration as a drive from London to Budapest. The hours on the road are a time for contemplation and listening to audio books. Kansas, Missouri, Illinois and Indiana do have a subtle beauty, but it is scenery I’ve seen many times before.

These are the years of memory and so many in that little town. So many.

Health

Backing Off

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Lughnasa                                                                    Recovery Moon

To sort of mix things up a bit I’ve chosen right now to back off from any sleep aids. I’ve taken doxepin for years, an older antidepressant, a tricyclic,  in a dose designed to help me fall asleep. An off label use. My current doc pointed out the Beer’s List (third phasers take note) which is a sort of no-no list for geriatric patients. In my case it discourages use of doxepin. I admit this is stupid, but it had never occurred to me question my doxepin prescription or to stop its use.

So, I’m weaning myself off any sleep aids, coulda/shoulda/woulda done this a long time ago. Dr. Gidday has prescribed temazepam, which works fine, but is in the valium family and cannot be taken with any regularity.

Take this as a cautionary tale if you’ve backed into any particular drug and used it over time without reconsidering why you take it. I know the docs are supposed to ask these questions, too, but sometimes they don’t.

This means a rolling tide of insomnia right now, which seems to be getting better. I feel pretty foolish about not doing this a long time ago. But there you are. I’m doing it now.

Health, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

One Month Out

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Lughnasa                                                                 Recovery Moon

Now a full month out from surgery. Cancer made less threatening with clear margins, no cancer cells in the tissue around the prostate after its removal. Now kegels, those exercises vaunted in Cosmo in the 70’s, an upcoming PSA in September and healing wounds where the robot arms reached inside me are the physical remnants. The kegels strengthen muscles necessary for continence. And they’ve worked.

I thought I’d be back at it now: translating Ovid, writing Superior Wolf, investigating the mountains and the west, but I’m not. The catheter came out only three weeks ago. That required the kegels and a brief use of adult diapers, maybe a week and a half all told. Jon’s been putting the bookshelves together and shelving books has taken time.

There was, too, the steady flow of Ken of Boiler Medic and the boiler installation, Herb and John the plumbers running line for the new stove and the generator. Arranging with Eric for the generator move, then Herb back for the gas connection, then Eric back to install the automatic transfer switch and connect the generator, test it.

There is, as well, a niggling feeling that post-cancer me and pre-cancer me are no longer quite the same person. I’ve not had that sudden revelation of life’s purpose found, or a mission uncovered; but, I feel somehow different. It might be that my day-to-day won’t return to the old pattern, that some new mix will emerge.

One specific instance is a more co-ordinated reading program, using Nina Killham’s bibliotherapy recommendations, certain projects like re-imaging faith and neglected areas of reading like poetry and classical novels as guides. Then, too, there is the type of writing I’ve avoided, long form, essay like pieces on matters like reimagining faith, politics in our time, water, identity and self-hood.

I’m waiting for sign along the ancientrail of recovery from a dread disease. There is planning, goal setting and then there’s discovery. Right now I’m more focused on discovery.

Faith and Spirituality, Health, Third Phase
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Summer                                                                    Recovery Moon

As I walk into the loft now, I get a surge of energy. The bookshelves are nearing completion. The iron shelving for the bankers boxes will go up after that. Since December, walking in here has been half joy, half feeling a weight of work yet to be done. This surge of work has put that feeling behind me. Now I see completion ahead. As I said, my goal is before Labor Day.

The nights have been too warm the last few days, but the trend to cooler night time temps begins soon. The long slow change headed toward the Winter Solstice.

Medea and Aeson. Medea agrees to heal Jason’s (Golden Fleece, Argonaut’s Jason) father of old age. She takes to her spells and incantations, gathers ingredients from all over the peninsula and revivifies the old man. The unseen corrupter healed by unseen knives managed from afar fails to shorten a third phase. Magical. Alchemical. Marvelous. Awe-some. We live in the world of ancient greece though we pretend to sophistication, to advanced wisdom. The same troubles face us still and we turn, like Jason and Aeson, to those who control the magic of our time.

Feelings, Health, Our Land and Home

Tomorrow Wall Down

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Summer                                                                              Recovery Moon

The tomorrow wall has come down. As Kate observed yesterday, “I could tell you were feeling more positive. You wanted to move things around, get a new rug, hang art. Talk about color.” Yes. More color. More art. Get back to home making, not things medical.

We have a new boiler. I’m continent less than a week after the catheter came out and about two and three-quarters months ahead of expectations. We ordered a 9×12 braided rug for the reading area in front of the fireplace. I have a new plumber, recommended by Ken, the Boiler Medic. Things have begun to happen.

Jon’s coming out today to do more bookshelf and handyman work. Jon’s skills make a big difference for both Kate and me. We’re lucky to have him.

office350Yesterday morning I moved empty bookshelves that we’re no longer going to use, four of them. I horsed the horizontal file cabinet more toward the center of the loft. That leaves a new expanse of wall where more tall birch veneer bookshelves can go.

Functional islands is the organizing scheme. Books and other storage against the wall, including a cabinet and shelf space for the tea-making, tea, and tea-ware, a slot for a small refrigerator and my exercise TV.

At the south end of the loft, positioned with a view of Black Mountain, is the reading area which includes a large rug and a Swedish recliner. Next, moving north, and away from the reading area, almost to the middle of the room away from the west wall, is the computer, desk and dictionary stand which holds my O.L.D., Oxford Latin Dictionary. I imagine the horizontal file cabinet will be part of this island, too.

In the same location, but out from the east wall and extending to the middle of the room will be a large table with three cabinets beneath it. It will be on wheels. The drafting table goes in this area, too. Here I can spread out books when doing research or work on other projects. I hope to get into some art making using this space. Collage work for right now.

Out from the north wall, on the same (eastern) side as the large table, is the treadmill, rubber mats, weights and weight bench. On the eastern wall in front of the treadmill is the TV I use as an incentive to exercise. There will be, too, a pull-up bar mounted to the ceiling.

On the same (western) side as the computer/desk island, will be wire shelving for my many bankers boxes filled with novel manuscripts, research, files related to other projects like art, religion, politics.

We plan to use the large wooden crates built to move our two large Jeremiah Miller paintings (brother-in-law) as dividers among the islands, cutting the larger crate in half to create three dividers. Jon has an idea for using piano hinges that will allow the crates to be used as art storage. They will have feet so they can stand on their own.

Once the bookshelves are all assembled, the wire shelving up, the large table finished and the tea-making/refrigerator area is in place I can get down to the serious work of giving my library its final shape. That’s a task, an important and fun task, that cannot be done with electronic books, at least not yet.

I’m hoping that all this work, if not the organizing of books and files and bankers boxes, will be done by Labor Day with the whole loft area ready for fall and winter.

This loft is a love letter from Kate since she chose this house because of the loft area for me and the enclosed two-car garage area for her. Finishing up both of our spaces—we have to re-assemble Kate’s long arm quilter and she needs to get a better organizing scheme—and the kitchen, the living room and the garage, lies ahead, but not too far ahead. Feels good.

 

 

 

Beyond the Boundaries, Faith and Spirituality, Health, Memories, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Travel, US History

Week II Post-Surgery

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Summer                                                                   Recovery Moon

Week II post surgery. My energy improves daily though I’m not back to full stamina. The surgical stigmata, six wounds where the robot’s arms pierced my skin, are healing nicely. It no longer hurts to lie down on them. An unpleasant, but anticipated side effect of the surgery, temporary incontinence, seems to be clearing up much more rapidly than I’d imagined it would. And, most importantly, I’m presumptively cancer free, the only question being possible microscopic metastases. I test for that in early September.

The tomorrow wall has crumbled. I can now see into the future again. Yesterday I made Amtrak reservations for my 50th high school reunion in September. The overnight California Zephyr runs from Denver to Chicago and then a short ride on the Cardinal to Lafayette, Indiana where I’ll pick up a rental car and drive the rest of the way. I do it this way because the Cardinal gets into Indianapolis after midnight and this allows me a good night’s sleep, plus I can gradually re-enter Hoosier space driving familiar highways back to Alexandria.

camp chesterfield2
The Trail of Religion

Again this time, as I did for the 45th, I plan to stay at Camp Chesterfield, a Christian Spiritualist center. It’s a quirky, old, interesting place. And, it’s cheap.

The loft is ready for its second round of construction, more shelves, then more shelving. I’ve abandoned my attempt to get the books properly organized as I shelve them because I need to clear space for more shelves. I can sort and organize as much as I want come fall.

My psyche has not caught up to my body’s healing pace. Though the tomorrow wall has fallen, I still find my days somewhat chaotic, not sure what to do, then what to do next. We’ve had a continuing drip, drip, drip of other matters: cracked tooth, dying boiler, Kate’s very painful back that contribute. All those seem to be moving toward resolution. I’ve even found a plumber for the generator install, a niggling thing still hanging on.

I’ll find my psyche back to its usual eagerness over the next week or two. I look forward to it.

Again, gratitude to all of you who sent notes over the cancer season. It matters.

 

 

Health, Our Land and Home

Crowning Achievement

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Summer                                                             Recovery Moon

Ever since my first crown years ago I can’t get the old gospel hymn, Crown Him With Many Crowns, out of my head when I go to the dentist with a cracked tooth. Aspen Park Dental sits just off 285, snugged in the mountains near the Safeway and a Starbucks. Nice folks. Dr. Higuchi got his degree at University of Iowa. A Hawkeye. Karen, the dental assistant, lives in nearby Pine Grove, and has a Great Dane. We talked about loving big dogs and their short life spans.

Back home to Shadow Mountain where lack of hot water dominated the rest of the morning. This time I found Ken, the only guy with a boiler license working up here. Ken, unfortunately, knows his business. Looks like a new boiler. Interesting reason, too. This high efficiency boiler was not made for altitude. At sea level it’s rated about 85%, not real high, but aiming in that direction. In the mountains it’s about 70%. The reasons relate to different flame setting requirements and difficulties with hard, acidic water. It has developed several problems, the sum of which would be too costly to fix given the likelihood of their recurrence.

Ah, well.

Faith and Spirituality, Health, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Oh, You Were Lucky

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Summer                                                                        Recovery Moon

Been thinking about luck and fortune. The meanings are slippery and often adjust themselves to rationalization. For instance. I was lucky to find my cancer early enough for successful treatment. Well, yes. But. I was unlucky to find cancer at all. It was my good fortune to find, with Kate’s help, competent and caring medical professionals in Colorado. Again, sure. But. It was my bad fortune to need as much of their competence and caring as I did.

Over the last few days since the catheter came out I’ve had this thought, “Boy, was I lucky. I had cancer, but it was treatable. And, I found it and treated it quickly.” The facts are true. I had cancer. It was treatable. It was found and treated quickly. But lucky seems askew. Lucky would have been to have never had cancer at all. Lucky described my state prior to diagnosis, not after. After, it was data, decisions, actions.

I write this because I’ve been tempted to another line of thought, too. I was lucky; I had prostate cancer, not lung cancer, pancreatic cancer, any cancer that most often defies treatment. There is a tendency to diminish the severity of our own situation and compare it to the dire circumstances of others. This helps psychologically, but it changes neither the fact of my situation nor theirs.

Each situation is as it is. Cancer is bad, no matter what type, no matter its response or lack of response to treatments. This disease is not one, but many; it is polymorphous and diverse. I’ve had friends with terrible cancers that eventually caused death. I’ve heard the stories of many men who’ve had the same arc with prostate cancer that I have. And others who have died.

Lucky and fortune play no part, save as soothing conceptual anodynes. Facts. They are what matter. Love and friendship can give aid in real time and I’ve experienced it. But that was not luck. That was kindness, compassion.

Health, Science

Ah

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Summer                                                                Recovery Moon

I won the catheter pull! It’s gone and I’m implement free for the first time in 39 days. Could you hear the sigh of relief?

My urologist, Ted Eigner, explained my pathology report and the next step, an ultra sensitive PSA done 8 weeks after the surgery. Anything under 0.2 PSA signals no apparent lingering prostate cells kicking out antigens. As time goes forward and the PSA’s continue with good signals the confidence level of a cure goes up. It’s pretty high right now, but not 100%. The reason: microscopic escapees taking up residence elsewhere in the body. That’s what the PSA tests for. The gross pathology of the removed prostate indicates no cancer in the area: clear margins.

A friend who has been through breast cancer wrote with feeling about those two words: clear margins. Not too important to you until they become very, very important.

I consider this the beginning of the end. The end will come when I’m fully continent and have had my first PSA test results. Eigner says about 3 months. Not bad.