Category Archives: Health

Siesta. Si.

Samhain                                                          Thanksgiving Moon

Grandma’s in Denver, probably having breakfast at the Best Western with the grandkids 2011 11 22_3981right about now.  She forgot to take her recipes so we may have to shore her up from home base.

(Grandma in Brazil)

The dogs and I have hit a rhythm that’s working so far.  The house is quieter with Kate gone and for a silence loving guy like me, I don’t like it.  Having another mouse in the burrow makes the whole place feel more livable.

Having said that my day doesn’t change much.  Up around 7:00-7:30.  Down to work around 8:00.  I will take a break at 10:00 to see if the dogs need to go out, then back to work until lunch.  Lunch.  Nap.  Work and workout till 7:00 or so.   Then relax.  This is, roughly, the daily schedule I discovered in Bogota now over 25 years.  It made sense to me then and makes sense to me now.

Many could not adjust their day to this kind of schedule, I know that, but if you can, I imagine you would see an increase in productivity and serenity.  Whole swaths of Latin culture have done it for years, even centuries and there’s physiological reason for it.  Get a good 7-8 hours of sleep, get up and use that good morning time for work.  Then, as the body slows down in the middle of the day, eat and nap, follow it with another pulse of work until the early evening, then enjoy yourself and your family.  A very pleasant way to live.

Subjugation and Submission

Samhain                                                                     Thanksgiving Moon

The nurse had a corner office.  “Yes, you can see Olive Garden over here and the Allina clinic over there.  Oh, and cars on the freeway.”  She’d had it all day.  When she handed me the gown and robe, she assured me that the glass had mirroring, “You’ll not be making a show.”  Didn’t bother me either way, though spread out immediately below the third floor windows were two large parking lots and people came and went from their cars.

After gowning and robing, I got a look in a mirror.  There was another old guy in hospital wear, slightly bemused.  Me.  This time the old guy in the mirror was me.  Took me a bit to acclimate that.

We make these visits once in a while as strangers from the non-medical world, visiting a world truly known and understood only by those who work in it daily.  Kate was among them.  It’s a world where the casual infliction of pain is part of the job. Like the IV I had inserted.  It’s a world where strong boundaries in our world are constantly breached.

People not known to us, or known briefly, may touch our naked bodies and may insert objects in different orifices.  These are acts that, outside of this special world, are crimes, even felonies.  Here we consent, play the masochist to the system’s sadist.

That system says it wants us as partners in our own health care but our lived experience of the medical world is one of subjugation and submission.  We take and do what the doctor orders.  Subjugation and submission.  Rebeling here challenges your own self-interest in a very direct way, so the penalty is high.

The TSA, as I observed last month, trains us in submission, too.  Take off belts, shoes,  empty your pockets, carry only this much shampoo, this much toothpaste, stand here, raise your arms.  Wait.  Wait.  Wait.

These self-contained worlds, whirring and buzzing, act as they do for our benefit.  And I believe they do. He said, choking a bit on the TSA bone.

Still, for those of us with stubborn, strong personal boundaries and a high sense of self-agency, encounters with these systems jars the most basic and sensitive aspects of our psyche. They leave me tired and out of sorts unless I’ve been drugged.  As was the case yesterday.

My regard for the often maligned American health care is, paradoxically, quite high.  I’ve had generally good results, confounding my aversion to subjugation and submission.  Efforts I’ve made to make myself more of a collegial actor in my health care have helped.

Still, as I look at third phase life and its inevitable downward turn, the thought of entering the strange and often alien world of medicine more and more often is not a pleasant one.  It does motivate me, if I needed another motivation, to stay healthy.  Not sure what to do with this, but here it is.

Going in Reverse

Samhain                                                            Thanksgiving Moon

The drugs have worn off and I’m getting more alert as the night grows more advanced. Plus I had a meal.  A major event after the ritual of purification.  At least for awhile I’m running against the rhythm of the day.

A washed out feeling, a bit loose at the joints, yes, and the grin has left my face.  The drugs brought back the days, the ’60s, when a grin and dilated pupils meant there was a good party going on somewhere nearby.  Now, as a resolute third phaser, I get my drugs the legal way, when I have a medical procedure.  I enjoy them just the same.

 

 

Once More Onto the Gurney

Samhain                                                                Thanksgiving Moon

Purified, my documents for the temple in order, I’m ready to go lay myself on the table of sacrifice.

Though I’m not nervous, it is sobering to realize that this is one of those moments when the outcome could be life altering.  To continue my now over extended metaphor, each time we draw near the holy of holies we risk the wrath of the gods.

Of course, this is supposed to have the opposite result, timely knowledge.  I’m in favor of that.

Ritual and Chance

Samhain                                                                 Thanksgiving Moon

Ritual purification proceeding according to the rules set down in the book of codes, an ancient text hidden deep beneath the skyscraper headquarters of Insurance Company. The plan is working.

We’re into the next to last week of ModPo now, the poets of chance.  These poets push further away from authorial authority, even from the Steinian modernism and the Beat emphasis on automatic writing.  John Cage, familiar to many through his musical compositions, plays an important role in contemporary poetry, too.  He and Jackson Mac Low are the two poets of this bent I’ve studied so far.

(John Cage)

The key move among these poets is a deterministic method of creating poetry that removes the creative act from writing, putting it instead in the creation of various methods for choosing words, texts, lines.  An example is a third poet whom I studied in another section, Bernadette Mayer.  She has rules for creating new poetry out of old.  Pick a poem, any poem, and, say, take out all the prepositions.  Or, all the words beginning with a.  Perhaps removing every third letter or every third line.  Then, there is a new piece, based on what Cage called a seed text, or an oracle text, one that served as the material from which the method would create a new work.

The term oracle text comes from Cage’s fascination with the methodology of the I Ching, the Chinese taoist Book of Changes.  By casting straws the user of the I Ching can determine which of 64 hexagrams apply to a particular situation.  Cage adapted the notion of a method like casting straws to his creation of poetry in a manner resembling Mayers.

Here is a portion of Mac Low’s “Feather Likeness of the Justice Chair” created by applying a rigorous method to Gertrude Stein’s famous “Tender Buttons.”  Below it is the method he used.  Still not sure about this myself.

Pedestrianism showed itself triumphant and disagreeable.
That which was hidden worried them.
They asked that her speech be repeated.
Summer light bears a likeness to justice.
Then the light is supposing attention.
That section has a resemblance to light.
Is it a likeness of the justice chair?

 

Author’s Note:
Eight strophes initially drawing upon the whole text of Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons.
I sent the entire text through DIASTEX5 (Charles O. Hartman’s 1994 update of DIASTEXT [1989],
his automation of one of my diastic text-selection procedures [1963], using as a seed text
the fifty-third paragraph of the book (exclusive of titles, etc), which begins, “A fact
is that when any direction is just like that, . . .” I selected the paragraph by random-digit
chance operations using the RAND Corporation’s table A Million Random Digits with 100,000 Normal
Deviates. (The Free Press, 1955).

My source and seed texts came from the first edition of Tender Buttons, issued by Donald Evan’s
publishing house Claire Marie (1914), as posted online in The Bartleby Archive (1995) and The New
Bartleby Library (1999), both edited by Steven van Leeuwen, with editorial contributions by Gordon
Dahlquist. However, I incorporated in my file of Tender Buttons fourteen corrections written
in ink in Stein’s hand, which Ulla E. Dydo found in Donald Sutherland’s copy of this edition,
now owned by the Special Collections of the University of Colorado at Boulder.

I “mined” the program’s output for words which I included in 117 sentences (several elliptical
and each one a verse line) by changes and/or additions of suffixes, pronouns, structure
words, forms of “to be,” etc. and changes of word order. Initially, in making these sentences,
I placed lexical words’ root morphemes near others that were near them in the raw output–in fact
I included many phrases, and even whole verse lines, of unedited, though punctuated, ouput,
mostly in early strophes–but I was able to do this less and less in the course of writing the poem.

While composing the 117 verse-line sentences, I divided them into eight strophes that
successively comprise numbers of sentences corresponding to the prime-number sequence
2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19.

New York: 20 September 1999

 

 

The Wall

Samhain                                                              New (Thanksgiving) Moon

Hit a mental wall yesterday.  Could. Not. Do. One more MOOC or Latin related thing. Brain was not interested.  In the AM  we completed the last of the garden chores for the season and I went downstairs to work on Ovid.  Nope.  Then turned on ModPo and, for the first time since both MOOCs started I did not complete a week’s work on time.  So this week I have to finish week 9 and do all of Week 10.

Doable because I no longer have Modern and Post Modern, but I don’t like to be behind.  I’ll catch up today or tomorrow.  At the same the new Latin learning style Greg recommended is, again, doable, but it takes more time.  For now.  The combination of the ending of Modern/Post Modern, the assessments due in ModPo, the home work Kate and I did to get ready for the Samhain bonfire and the bonfire itself, coupled with the changed Latin working style short circuited me.  Or threw an internal G.F.I.

Then, there is, too, the G.D. time switch.  I’m a naked, blanket, no prisoners opponent of messing with time.  Leave it on standard time and damn the consequences.

As I write this, I realize I’m not much further along today.  Need some more rest.  On the other hand, feeling tired means I’ve been active and that’s how I want to be.

There is, though, one more flaw in this ointment.  I started my low fiber diet yesterday, clear liquids starting at 11:45 pm tonight.  Then that fun couple of hours with a Powerade Miralax punch.  Those of you over 50 almost certainly know this routine.

As I read the rules for this procedure, it reminded me of ascetics who would undergo elaborate rites of purification before entering the temple to commune with their gods.  In this case the god will appear in white armed with a long, skinny camera.  He, not me, will be going deep inside myself, gaining self-knowledge for me and recording it with a camera. It’s better than meditation! Gastroenterologist be with me now and in the time of my procedure.  So help me Galen.

 

 

Clarity

Fall                                                             Samhain Moon

Eye doc today said I had aniscoria.  Unequal pupils.  It means, in this instance, that my eyes don’t work together too well while reading, causing the type to float a bit, creating stress when I read a regular book rather than my kindle.  On my kindle I can adjust the size of the type to compensate.  Not been a problem until recently though the aniscoria is longstanding.  So, a pair of reading glasses.  Necessary because my eyes no longer adjust for each others differences.  And they used to.  I’m looking forward to clear reading.

I go to an ophthalmologist twice a year due to an unusual retinal nerve.  Each time one of them looks in my eye they go, “Oh, my. Let’s see how this looked last time.” Always the same.  So far.  For over 25 years.

These bi-annual or so visits, next week’s the dentist, the first week of November a colonoscopy, some people see as a nuisance.  I see these routines in the same way I see preventive maintenance on the car.  See a problem ahead of time and it’s easier to fix.  I can’t say I like them or dislike them.  They’re like eating your peas.

(Will Eisner)

Most of us have some quirk here or there that requires professional attention.  We’re not clones and each of us is unique.  A former internist said we were, to a certain extent, all black boxes.  That is, our personal version of humanity deviates to a greater or lesser degree from the norm.  Most of the time I’m happier with greater.  In these matters though…

Dog Leak Source Found. Medical Positives.

Lughnasa                                                            Honey Moon

I believe I found the egress. (see post below)  Wired it up.  I walked the whole perimeter, about half a mile, checking the bottom of the chain link fence for sign.  These include scuffed earth, bent or snapped off twigs or plant stalks, areas where the earth has been scratched.  Then, like the cowboys of old, I take out my wire cutters and my almost depleted roll of baling wire and anchor the fence to something solid.  The good old empirical method will tell whether or not I was successful.  Dogs in perennial beds.  No. Dogs in back.  Yes.

Also, forgot to mention here the good news about my shoulder.  After six months of sleep disturbing and task disrupting pain, my physical therapy has eliminated almost all the pain.  I would say I’m 95% back to normal.  The p.t. was monotonous and frequent, but over time it pulled me back to good health.  Worth it.  Much better than meds.

In addition, as far as medical good news goes, as some of you know, I’ve mostly cut out carbs, lost 16 pounds and upped my consumption of fruits and vegetables.  Just like your Mom was supposed to have told you, although I don’t remember those lessons from my Mom.  My new doctor did an A1c test which measures average blood sugar over a three month period and mine was in the normal range.  Barely, but it was there.  I’m convinced that the change in eating pattern walked me back from prediabetes.  I’ll stick with the new eating paradigm, healthier anyway.

One more piece of good news in the A1c’s trail.  My cholesterol numbers stayed in excellent ranges in spite of the fact that I’ve increased my carnivorous activity.  That’s all the good news that’s fit to print.

Midwest Grimoires

Lughnasa                                                                  Honey Moon

Finished spraying.  As the crops come in, the amount of spray needed diminishes.  Today I really only needed the reproductive spray because the remaining vegetables are mostly in that category:  tomatoes, ground cherries, egg plants, cucumbers, peppers, carrots. Granted there are a few beets, some chard and the leeks yet to harvest but they seem substantial already.  They also benefit from the showtime, nutrient drenches and the enthuse that I will spray on Saturday morning.

Kate roasted the broccoli and froze it.  She’s also making pickles today, cucumber and onion.  She’s in back to the land, earth mother mode and has been for several weeks.  She consults her canning, pickling, drying, freezing books like grimoires from calico clad wise women of the rural Midwest.  And does likewise, tweaking the recipes when she wants.

Various

Lughnasa                                                                    Honey Moon

Got my second pneuma-vax since I got one before age 65.  That was fun.

Loki’s Children has begun to occupy front space in my mind, turning to it in the morning now when I’m at my best.  Work in the garden early, while it’s still moderately cool, then inside for the a.m.

After Missing has gone through its final paces with beta readers and Robert Kleim, I’ll begin seeking agents.  In fact I plan to develop a list this week, so I’ll be ready when a final draft is.

Two things to do this week in addition to others:  1.  Make candles.  2. Finally install our CD changer that we filled up a couple of months ago.