Category Archives: Health

Extreme Cold?

Samhain                                         Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

Cool today, even cooler tomorrow.  Then it begins to get chilly near the end of next week, just in time for Thanksgiving.  The accuweather folks call 9 degrees, the predicted low for November 24th, extreme cold.  Hmmm.  Can’t wait to see the adjectives in January.

(now this is extreme cold)

Got a good nights sleep last night, feeling pretty good today.  Just some residual thrumming, a low grade event.

I continue uninterested in the Vikings.  I’m taking this a Sunday at a time, but I feel my football habit beginning to weaken.  Hopefully, by the end of the season it will drop off and leave me alone.  On the other hand the Gopher’s basketball team…

Getting Over the Pain

 

Samhain                                             Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

Well.  A good night’s sleep, little swelling this morning and no discernible pain.  So far this recovery has had no bite other than fatigue and disorientation, some of which continues this morning.  Still taking the ibuprofen but I only used one of the vicodin.

The new political reality has us all shuffling from meeting to meeting, trying to figure out what comes next.  Tomorrow afternoon I’ll attend a meeting of Minnesota progressives (leftists) to discuss the impact on a wider progressive agenda.  It’s not good, at least not in the short run.  If we can use the next two years to define and energize those who would benefit, we could find ourselves stronger in 2012 than we were 2010.  That’s a big if and it will take considerable work to make it happen.

Here Comes the Pain

Samhain                                                 Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

The gauze is out and the long acting anesthetic still has control of the pain.  Cold packs on my right every half hour, ibuprofen and vicodin for bedtime.  Should be ok, though tomorrow could be worse than today.  Cheer up, things could be worse.  I cheered up and, sure enough, things got worse.

Right now I’m thinking this recovery will proceed pretty smoothly and I’m happy about that.

Kate sat out in the waiting room, tense, because she knows the things that can go wrong.  Meanwhile, I floated softly as a cloud among the daffodils.

Though I do try to avoid the medical world as much as possible, I am glad we have their work available.  It makes life easier and, often, even possible.

As I’ve written this, the analgesic from the procedure has begun to wear off and my jaw has a touch of ache to it.   It probably will not stay subsided for long now.  Have to roll out the heavier meds.  Not much more clear thinking now.  Adios.

Apres Versid

Samhain                                           Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

Woke up on a blue plastic couch, a bit chilly.  A woman filled a syringe, I could see her through a small window.  There was a slight fog in my perception, a kind of garbling to my thought, courtesy of the versid and fentanyl.  Took me a moment to orient myself, feel the gauze on my right, filling up my mouth, giving me an overfull sensation.  A bit later a nurse took my blood pressure, put me in a wheel chair and wheeled me to the elevator then down to Kate who waited in the truck.

Back home now with pain meds.  The teeth came out smoothly which lessens the risk of complications.  A good thing.  Vicodin and ibuprofen for the rest of the day, a bit hazy as the day progresses.

Glad it’s over with and will be even gladder when the healing process finishes.

The Better Part of Wisdom?

Samhain                                               Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

 

Wisdom teeth.  Well, I still have a couple.  A while back I had the first two yanked out, but the ensuing weekend and week made me hold off on the other two.  Until now.  Faced with the imminent loss of dental insurance, or at least a changed plan, I asked my dentist what he thought I could do now to help my dental health long term.  The wisdom teeth, he said, out.

So, this morning out they come.  I woke up early this morning, a bit nervous I guess.  My goal, in general, is to stay away from the medical profession (except for my lovely wife), but once in a while it’s unavoidable.  Like today.

Wondering about wisdom teeth, I took a quick poke around the web and found a dentistry site that identified wisdom teeth as vestigial.  Interesting.  Seems at one point our diet consisted of much more abrasive material which needed the third molar to help grind it down.  Back then we didn’t need extra fiber in the diet, I’m guessing.  Now jaws stay fuller*, our diet’s smoother and we don’t create space by losing permanent teeth, thanks to modern dentistry.

Around 9:15 the procedure begins.  Oh, boy.

*Until quite recently, our diet included mostly very coarse food, as well as impurities such as dirt and sand. This coarseness would abrade teeth so significantly that they would take up less space in the jaw.

Health.

Fall                                            Waxing Harvest Moon

At the Woolly meeting at Paul’s this Monday night, Mark talked about a woodworking group to which a friend (nephew?) belongs.  They get together, teach other how to do woodworking, chip in on special tools and have a good time learning together.  Sounds fun.  If you want to learn woodworking.  What got my attention was a moment in the evening they have called the organ recital.  A new term to me.  Each guy reports on his organs are doing.  It reminded me of  friend Morry Rothstein who often starts conversations amongst the geriatric docent crowd with the question, “Any new parts?”

The Woolly evening had the ritual obeisance to the nostrum, “You don’t have anything if you don’t have your health.”  This in the context of the wealth discussion we had.  At the time I burned my sacrifice on the altar of health as we all nodded sagely, wise old men agreeing that wealth doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have your health.

When I got home, though, I got to thinking.  We may be setting ourselves up for incredible unhappiness in the not so far distant future.  Or in the here and now if you’re, say, Mark, recovered from prostate cancer, but now battling a bum knee.  Or if you’re, say, Frank with his bum ticker, a widow maker artery that could take him out anytime.  Or Paul, whose hemoglobin count mysteriously dropped to worrying levels, but has now rebounded.  Or, even me, with high blood pressure (under control) and kidney functions that haven’t looked the best of late.

(the nine Greek Muses along with Hygeia, goddess of health, and a very young Apollo, the god of medicine)

What’s my point?  Soon or late, the body decompensates, succumbs to the inexorability of the 2nd law of thermodynamics.  Entropy always wins against life, a losing bet from the very beginning.  Between good health and that final reckoning with the laws of nature we may, and probably will, become ill with one of several now manageable conditions:  certain cancers, congestive heart failure, declining kidneys or any of several non-lethal, at least not right away, conditions.

What do we say then?  Oh, no.  My life is over, turn on the gas, or do we discover, as so many have, that health is not in fact everything.  Everything includes love which transcends disease, enjoyment of literature, the arts, travel,  sex, friendship, family.  None of these come to an end because of a diagnosis or a condition.  Might COPD or chronic pain limit the type and kind of things you do?  Of course.  But look at your life now.  Travel has its limits, if not by funds, then by time.  How much time can you be gone?  Work has its limits now.  Already you work so many hours, then rest.  You could certainly change the ratio.

This is not a plea to cast healthy living to the wind just so we can transcend suffering, far from it.  In fact, living healthfully as long you can makes total sense.  The key words there are, as long as you can.  When you cannot, learn a new way of living.  We’ll all have to do it, unless we just drop dead.  And that doesn’t seem so desirable to me right now.

The End of Days

Fall                                           Waxing Harvest Moon

The end of days.  No, not that one.  Just this one and the others.  The end of days is an important moment for me, a time of reflection.  Often, not always, but often, I will sit down and write, thinking as I do back over the day, the anxieties of which, as the New Testament said, were sufficient unto it.  So, here in the quiet, the gathering darkness headed toward the Solstice of Winter, I cast off those anxieties, trying to get to sleep.

Most of the time, over the last few years anyway, getting to sleep has not been a problem for me.  Sometimes, rarely now, I’ll awaken and not be able to sleep.  I’ve learned that instead of railing against it, I just get up and read until I feel sleepy again.  Won’t be a problem tonight.  I hope.

Most of the time sleep comes with difficulty when I’ve either been over stimulated during the day, an exciting debate or tour or new idea keeps kicking around even after bedtime; or, I’ve got an event upcoming in which I need to perform well.  Sometimes that causes me to lose sleep.  A speech, a tour of Chinese art for the Chinese Heritage Foundation, finishing a sermon.  Not often in either case, but they do happen.

I love sleeping.  And dreaming.  Off and on over the years I’ve kept records of my dreams.  I like to do it on a regular basis, but it doesn’t hold my interest for long, in spite of my intense curiosity.  The dream time has given me many important insights.  Right now my body is telling me I need to go dream.  Good night.

Domestic, Horticultural and Apicultural Matters

Lughnasa                                Full Artemis Moon

Still waiting on the extracting equipment though I imagine it will arrive soon.  Then, setting up the honey house with the extractor and the capping knife and the capping container.  I’ll move some things around, get ready for winter storage of honey supers, put in a solid table for handling supers and frames and foundations.  It’ll be finished when I get the metal sign to hang over the door.

Today found me at Home Depot early picking up a filter for the humidifier attached to the furnace–didn’t know it had one till gas repairman pointed it out–and a refrigerator coil brush.   Turns out refrigerators work more efficiently if their coils get cleaned.  Who knew?  Up the road on Hghwy 10 I went to Anoka Feed and Seed to order another 8 cubic yards of wood chips.  The sky has that late summer blue.  Autumn does not show through the sky and the winds yet, but it will.  It’s already evident in dying plants and woolly caterpillars.

Back home I pulled some carrots, beets, chard and Kale.  I also dug for a couple of new potatoes, but I’m not finding as many potatoes as I found last year.  Hope I just haven’t gone deep enough.  That got my hands good and dirty.

This afternoon I plan to get back to the exercise routine which has seemed too strenuous for the last two weeks while I was sick.  Looking forward to returning to that habit.

Feeling Better. Me. Dwindling. Hilo.

Lughnasa                                    Waxing Artemis Moon

Ah.  It seems the nasties have journeyed on to other warm bloody creatures, leaving me in peace for now.  I hope my body now recognizes and will fend off these creatures that live only to replicate and in so doing make us feel bad.  But they don’t care.

Groceries this morning.  Filled up the cart with fruit and vegetables and turkey burgers, soy milk and slim milk, Sharps and Diet Cherry Coke, a bit of feta cheese, some sliced turkey for the dogs, a few cheese curds, some peanut butter, oops, just realized I forgot the cereal, chicken breasts.  You know.  The stuff of daily eating.  It was church time while I shopped so I suppose we were all heathens in there, except for those righteous Catholics who went to Saturday night mass.  Grocery shopping has a soothing quality.  It combines shopping with a genuine need so the selection of items reflects not so much consumer driven behavior–though that does rear its head–as it does animal needs.

(The Mexicans do mercado better.)

Hilo has, as Kate says, the dwindles.  She’s becoming very thin and tentative.  We believe she’s lost the better part of her sight.  Last week she seemed frightened, wide-eyed and jittery; this week feels different.  Perhaps a resignation of sorts.  It’s sad to watch her fade away, but she still lives her life.  Napping with us this afternoon, going outside to wander around the yard.  Eating a bit now and then.  Live until you die.  That’s what I want for me and for her.

The sewing machine is on its movable platform, the wind-up reels for the cloth are in place, we attached a high-tech stitch regulator and a laser pointer to the apparatus that allows Kate to guide the needle.  Now it’s RTFM, a couple of extension cords and she’ll be ready to practice.  No more taking pieced work out for quilting, now it happens here, right in our lower level.

Eatin’ At Pappy’s

Lughnasa                                       Waxing Artemis Moon

After the early work, breakfast at Pappy’s Cafe, a new fine dining experience in Andover.  I’m using the Apple Valley criteria for a fine dining restaurant, silver and real plates, but, no cloth napkins.  Close anyhow.  Pappy’s reminds me of those little places you pull into while on the road.  You know, the one in the middle of a now largely empty business district in a town with only a main street and two blocks worth of business space.

The food is good, hearty downhome fare.  We went to Pappy’s first a Friday or so ago for the the all you can eat fish fry.  Just like Wisconsin without the beer and schnapps.

The only disheartening part about Pappy’s is the general clientele.  It’s like he put out a sign that read, BMI 30+?  All you can eat!  I looked at the folks there bulging, slow to get up, slow getting down, busy at shoveling in pancakes or all you can eat fried fish and all I could see was a visit to the ER with chest pain, ruined backs and bum knees, high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes.

(William Howard Taft would have loved Pappy’s.)

The stomach on this body is not what it used to be, not at all, and I understand the struggle to control spread.  It’s tough.  Still, when I see several kids who are large, I begin to wonder about our culture overall.  In fact, I asked Kate if she saw kids with high blood pressure?  Yes.  Due to weight?  Often.  Do you take blood pressure when you see kids?  Yes, from age 3 on.  It used to be the guideline was age 12, now we try to find it when we can still control it with diet.  OMG.

We also talked about this peri-retirement experience we’ve had while Kate recovers from her hip surgery.

She likes it.  “I can spend more time with you, we can just go somewhere.  I can plan projects, get more done.  I don’t feel like I have to get myself ready for work.  I didn’t have to do charts this morning for example.”