Category Archives: Health

Fourth Phase, Health, Holidays, Writing

Habits Old and New

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Snow. Shadow here for a visit. Noon. Vincent and Julia home  for the holidays. Tara. The sixties. The anti-war movement. In loco parentis. Student’s rights. Civil rights. Philosophy. Anthropology. My 1950’s Chevy Panel Truck. Ball State. Wabash. Anti-draft movement. Second wave feminism. Judy. Fox River Paper. Appleton, Wisconsin

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Creole Food

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

In your daily life, practicing Gevurah might mean:
  • Setting Boundaries: Knowing when to say no to preserve your energy or integrity.
  • Ethical Discernment: Evaluating situations clearly rather than acting on blind impulse.
  • Discipline: Committing to a path and having the strength to stay on it, even when it is difficult. 

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The deafening sound of silverware on porcelain, the normal conversations in a full restaurant, the kitchen with waiters coming and going overwhelm my hearing aid, placing me outside even the table where Joanne, Alan, Cheri talk to Josh, the happy Hummingbird chef, while I sit there smiling and nodding, the fool on the hill.

During the Moon of New Beginnings I plan to recapture old habits and pick up one new one. I have already begun resistance work as my primary workout. Leaving out cardio, at least for now. I have a modest, but important to me, goal. Opening the wrapping on a protein bar with ease. Hey, I said it was modest.

I will also continue Ancientrails, as if I could stop at this point after almost twenty-one years of regular morning writing. I hope to add a rewrite/revision of Superior Wolf to my day. My focus on the kavannah of gevurah includes setting aside time for this writing project.

The new habit I want to add? I have been active in and read about politics since my teenage years in Indiana. That reading has included newspapers, magazines, books, and websites. I mostly read to give shape and reason to action. With no gevurah, no discipline however.

Like most folks I’d look at a front page and read what struck me. Same with a new issue of a magazine or the offerings on a website. Part of the new habit involves adding gevurah to my reading about politics. Chatgpt and I have developed a beginning plan for daily, weekly, and monthly reading on specific topics important to me and, I believe, others.

Those topics are: Christian Nationalism, New Apostolic Reformation, granola conservatives, white supremacy, MAGA, post-MAGA far right politics, anti-Semitism, democratic socialism, strategy within democratic socialism and the Democratic party for winning elections, state and city level politics expressive of any of the above.

Disciplined reading and thinking about these topics will inform columns commenting on what I’ve learned and how I see that learning affecting both the present political moment and movement toward a more just, compassionate, and loving world.

I will probably write these columns in Substack where I already have a spot which I’ve hardly used.

 

Family, Health

Christmas Edition

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Christmas gratefuls: Children, all the children. Christmas Trees. Wassail bowls. Yule logs. Mistletoe. Holly and Ivy. The whole pageant of pagan appropriations. Merry Christmas, everyone. Snow. Ice. Wherefore art thou? Shadow of the morning. All those who are alone, bereft, unloved on this day in particular. Friends and family. Wild Neighbors and the Rocky Mountains.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tara, Marilyn and Irv

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.    Radical amazement, awe.

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Tara brings all black, curly haired puppy Eleanor and all white, curly haired Kingsley; they run down the stairs yin and yang on four legs, out the back door and into doggy freedom, while they play Tara and I talk. Humans, eh?

A Christmas edition of Ancientrails. Nostalgia carries me into Christmas, any Christian embers long extinguished. The pagan accretions, the family and friends celebrating. Yes. The incarnation. No.

Jacquie Lawson, the e-card company, puts out a fun animated Advent calendar and I buy one each year. It’s heavy on traditional Christmas themes like Snow, sledding, Santa, hot chocolate, with a soupcon of baby Jesus. This year’s version had an English village setting with the village gaining buildings as the days progressed. A sweet immersion in the parts of Christmas that still matter to me. Very well done.

Yule makes more sense to me with its Evergreen Trees, Holly, and Ivy. Its emphasis on Fire as the human imitation of Great Sol. Wassailing, feasting, singing songs. Celebrating the essential and inextricable relationship between humans and their parents: Mother Earth and Great Sol.

So throw that Yule log on the Fire, drink from a flagon made of Elk Horn, listen to the lute and the zither, and sing the night away into the coming of the light. You pagan you.

 

In saying my piece about the difficult realms of my inner world I put them out there, on the page, away from the clanging cauldron of my doubts. They no longer have the power of hidden things. Does not make them dissolve, no.

Yet. Their power diminishes in the air. Looking back to yesterday’s post, I can see them as part of my larger whole, and only part. That alone puts them in conversation with the strength of my will, with the love of friends and family, with  the sacred energy of my nephesh which joins  my Self to the collective unconscious. In that broader, richer context the self-insulting and self-negating thoughts have to contend with years of reflection and self-understanding. Their obscurantism evaporates, sending them back to their subterranean homes in Kubla Khan’s caverns measureless to man (sic).

Also, when they’re out folks can raise them with me. Diane helped me today with two stuck places: exercise. I committed to resistance work only for the next few weeks. Being weak really bugs me. She also helped me see that reading and writing can indeed be my purpose now. Thanks, cuz.

 

Cancer, Far Right, Health, Politics, White Supremacy, Writing

Reading Right

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul and Christopher. Findlay and Sarah. Kate and Clare. High Winds. Shadow away. Arrival Day yesterday. Joe. Working out again. Cancer. Dr. Bupathi. Kristie. Dr. Carter. Jenna and Alise. Andouille. Kielbasa. Shrimp. Pork. Sheetpan recipes. New York Times. Ground News. Washington Post. LA Times. Vox. ProPublica. Ezra Klein. No despair.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Protein

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Netzach   “Endurance and Tenacity: Netzach represents the inner strength and fortitude required to pursue a goal or a passion over a long period, especially when faced with obstacles.”

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Oh, these cancer days and cancer nights, long have they stayed, often indolent no worries, ordinary sleep, ordinary waking, once in a while, at least every three months, a bit fraught, will the numbers be good or bad, sometimes, like as of late, ordinary sleep, but some edgy days with moving numbers, m.r.i.s, pet scans, radiation.

 

Health: Got my new PSA numbers over the weekend. A big jump. Uh-oh. Couldn’t ask the question until Monday a.m. Sent a note and Hannah said she’d make sure Dr. Bupathi had seen those results. Thanks, Hannah.

Not long after, again from Hannah, “The team thinks this could be the result of inflammation after radiation. Recheck in six weeks.” That’s also the time frame for my next pet scan. So, ok. Part of the process.

What matters here is whether I have transitioned from hormone treatment sensitive cancer to hormone resistant which requires the next step in protocols, new drugs, stronger ones. If my psa goes down, that is below 0.3, I continue on androgen deprivation therapy-hormone treatment-as I have since 2019.

This has my attention. Not worried yet not placid. Things not definitive. Six weeks of this. I appreciated Hannah understanding my concern, following it down. There are no small roles in this personal life and death drama.

 

Just a moment: A continuing commitment. I will read and comment on the news, especially news originating from non-traditional sources like the conservative Bulwark, the liberal Vox and Propublica, Groundnews, the Atlantic, and the Guardian. For my own original reporting I will continue to take you inside texts like Yasem Hazony’s Conservativism Redefined and the Violent Take It By Force, Matthew Taylor on the New Apostolic Reformation.

This week I’ve purchased two that will occupy much of my time for a while. Abundance by Ezra Klein, a progressive political agenda for our time, and Furious Minds by Princeton scholar of the New Right, Laura K. Field, which analyzes the Making of the MAGA New Right.

This is a project I began a while ago when reading Patrick Deneen’s, Why Liberalism Failed, followed by a book on the John Birch Society, another on Christian Nationalism, and yet  another on thinkers who have impacted the New Right.  Renaud Camus, for example, the French political philosopher who developed Replacement Theory. That was 2023. Well before the return of red tie guy.

Replacement theory shows up in the recent Trumpian National Security Strategy as that document’s warning to Europe about “civilizational erasure.” It also shows up among America white nationalists associated with MAGA.

I’m beginning to trust my sense of what drives the new far right, now I want to understand how its rise will effect our future.

Cancer, Dogs, Far Right, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, US History, White Supremacy, World History

Link Arms Against This Sea of Troubles

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Rising PSA. Shadow, seen. Natalie and Dr. Josy. Winter is coming. (next week) Hanukah. Ruth and Gabe. Joe. Seoah. Murdoch. What I want. Death. Other life punctuation points. Hawai’i. Nathan and the Dog run. Venezuela. Latin America. Central America. North America. The Gulf of Mexico.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Joe

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Netzach   “Endurance and Tenacity: Netzach represents the inner strength and fortitude required to pursue a goal or a passion over a long period, especially when faced with obstacles.”

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Shadow cast her presence toward me, casually, too absorbed in other nearby dogs and her trazadone pall to greet her Dad when others of her kind, so many of them, were nearby, crossing behind Natalie’s FJ Cruiser with its DOGS4LIFE license plate, in the Flying J parking lot human companions holding leashes, some pulling toward Shadow to say hi, I’m here, too.

 

Dog journal: First I’d seen Shadow since a week ago Friday. She greeted me, but with little enthusiasm. A little bit of my heart broke. My hope for an enthusiastic smile, a jump, kisses set aside. I noticed, in a bit, that she moved a little slowly, that spark in her personality tamped down.

I’d forgotten the trazadone/gabapentin she was on while the prozac reaches therapeutic levels. Didn’t like it, but I understood the rationale. Reduce her reactivity and help her learn new behaviors. Like letting a leash on. Like easily crossing thresholds. Temporary. Similar to chemical constraints for humans in an agitated state. Shadow exists in an agitated state most of the time.

Natalie said Shadow acted the same at her place as she does at mine, vis a vis thresholds. Made me feel good. Not me. Some psychic gremlin gripping Ms. Shadow when faced with crossing from the outside to the inside.

Natalie, an empathetic and kind person, said she’d come pick up Shadow if I had appointments, keep her for the day and return her. How blessed am I. So many loving folks in my orbit.

We parted after about twenty minutes, Shadow with Natalie.

Good-bye.

 

Health: Yes. My labs showed my PSA jumped, in spite of the radiation, from 0.3 to 2.7. At first I saw the 2.7 and thought, yes! Only later wondering, opening the lab report again. Oh. Not 0.27.

Probably means new drugs. New side effects. Still many options between me and ordinary chemotherapy. Erleada is technically chemotherapy, says so on the pill container, but its side effects have been slight.

There again, blessed. A cancer with many treatments, slow progression. And, for me so far, no symptoms. Happy Holiseason to me!

 

Just a moment: Make Western civilization white again. A sad dream, a dream of the desperate, of the frightened and deluded.

Even the Asian civilizations with which I have some familiarity exhibit strong evidence of liberal ideals. Look at the young women of Korea on a virtual Lysistratan sex strike, wanting their autonomy. Or, young women and men in China. Many of the women rejecting traditional Chinese female roles, many men disillusioned by them and the job market, pushing back against their heritage of centralized control. Taiwan, too.

And here’s the paradox, the irony. Those of us strong with the force of liberal/enlightenment/renaissance ideas of no kings, individualism, small d democracy, individual freedoms and rights as human beings are the ones that recognize most the need to link arms against this tide of civilizational troubles and by opposing end them.

Yes, the liberal journey is not toward a fractious libertarianism, but toward a democratic socialism where the commonweal balances as best as possible with liberty and freedom for all. Not an easy project as our imperfect America has shown since its birth, but an inevitable one pushed forward by the creative tension between individuals and the collective. That’s what I see, what I have lived for.

 

Health, Politics

Relief All Round

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Friday gratefuls: Done with Radiation. Ablation. Injection. Bracing. No procedures or diagnostics on the immediate horizon. Shadow at boarding school. Support over the last six weeks. NYT editorials on the military. Grief. Again. Still. The price we pay for love. Faraway and nearby friends and family. Shadow Mountain home.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Finishing radiation

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Malchut   Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Alise and Jenna seemed genuinely sad to see me leave their radioactive workplace; made me feel good about the relationship we established over the ten sessions spread out over three weeks; easy really, I smiled, said thank you and remembered their names, asked questions, and showed up early.

 

A palpable sense of relief. This long, medical march which began with a P.E.T. scan in May, saw three MRI’s, a CT scan, a new radiation oncologist, lots of needles and appointments all over the south metro has come, mostly, to an end. I have a follow up with Bupathi today and Kylie (pain doc) next week, but that’s it for now.

Even the process of getting resolution to back pain, head drop, and an outlier large metastases brings its own stress, its own Thank God that’s over. Not to mention the brace, the injection, the ablation, and radiation themselves. Organizing, scheduling, securing drivers when necessary, or just driving myself. A lot.

And, of course, the varying results. Brace, a C-. Ablation, an A+. Injection, C. Radiation, hard to know at this point, but given previous experience, most likely an A. Which means that the head drop and the labrum tear will require more work.

But not right now. I’m taking a rest, enjoying the surcease of pain from the ablation, and, I hope, the preservation of my hormone sensitive status thanks to the radiation.

I get to celebrate Hanukah, the Winter Solstice, Yule, and New Years without further efforts to keep myself mobile and alive. Yay!

This is the plastic mesh that they put on my bare chest for each radiation session, oriented by small black tattoos, and clamped tight with magnets. It served as the primary positioning tool for the extreme precision required by this extraordinary therapy. My chin rested in the smaller, cupped portion of the mesh.

 

Just a moment: Vultures of all sorts have begun to circle the front lawn of the Whitehouse, awaiting the bloated political corpse of red tie guy’s presidency. According to a New York Times political correspondent, Trump has achieved a rare status for a second term President. He’s a lame duck a year plus before the mid-terms. After the mid-terms normally marks this transition as the President’s party loses power in Congress and his own party begins to look beyond him a candidate for the next Presidential election.

You can read about it here:  Trump’s Coalition Cracking. What this means for the immediate future and the next three, long years is far from clear.

Aging, Cancer, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Humor, Judaism, Mussar, Politics

Humor as Moral Compass

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Samain and the Shadow Moon  (2 sessions to go)

Wednesday gratefuls: Rich. MVP. Shadow away at boarding school. Clement weather. Polska Kielbasa. Bananas. Tangerines. Celery. Baby Potatoes. Andouille sausage. Scallions. Cherry Tomatoes. Pork loin chops. Sheetpan dinners. Nathan and the Dog run. His next summer move to Kalispell, Montana.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rich

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Malchut   Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Made a mistake, went to MVP, my only night out during the month; even though Marilyn drove, a combination of radiation fatigue, head drop, and this damned hernia acting up made me first lie down on a couch, then ask for a ride home. Geez.

 

I knew better. I’m exhausted from driving to radiation and getting radiated. But I love these folks: Jamie, Susan, Joanne, Ron, Marilyn, Laurie, Rich. Missed last month and missed seeing them all. When Marilyn asked to meet at the usual place, I said yes. Should have said no.

Rich drove me to my car, followed me home, shoveled my deck, and saw me into the house. What a kind and loving man.

Not the return to the group I wanted.

This just in. Marilyn texted me, offered to drive me to my radiation today. Rich must have gone back and reported to the MVP group. I feel blessed to have so many who love me, care about me.

 

Dog journal: Nathan came by from a project just up the road. We discussed the Dog run. He’s built many and has his tricks for working in the Snow on frozen ground. Relieved. Now if that doghouse I want will come back in stock…

 

Just a moment: Sleepy Donald. I can relate. I’ll be 79 in two months and I just had a night. Glad I’m not working hard to cancel the political work of the last century or so. Gotta be tiring, making up enemy lists, figuring which shithole countries to diminish and ban, which cities to occupy, deciding how you can gig the poor yet again. Not to mention acting as warmonger and peace maker in chief. The contradictions alone would level a lesser man.

Don’t know if you watch South Park. Don’t recommend it even though the real South Park lies only an hour’s drive from Shadow Mountain. A former Conifer resident is one of the pair who created it.

It’s gross. Over the top. And, yet. They’re satirizing Trump, Vance, Bondi, Stephen Miller in ways that do make me laugh. Especially Stephen Miller who is portrayed as a creepy, I may lead to your doom, sycophantic butler.

If you can stand it, the satire is spot on.

Humor has always had an uneasy, even dangerous relationship to power. I’m sure more than one court jester lost their head by taking a joke too far.

I admire the South Parks, the Colberts, the Jon Stewarts of our time. Laughing at tyrants exposes them for what they are: weak, petty, cruel leaders who seek power for power’s sake with no moral compass. Humor, oddly enough, is exactly that: a moral compass.

 

 

 

Dogs, Dreams, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Memories, Politics

Again, Recess Is Over

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Samain and the Shadow Moon (3 sessions to go)

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, doing her work. The now working Clinac. My life, worth living. Fencing companies. Building a dog run with heated dog house for Shadow. Joe’s willingness. Early Winter. The coming of Hannukah, Yule, the Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Year’s. Holiseason at its peak.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fences

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Malchut  Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Joe, my son, offered to come and build the dog run for Shadow, to set aside for a few days his serious duties and help Dad and his Dog, to do that after a fifteen hour flight from his home, a son a man can be proud of, yet I won’t let him come because this wonderful place where I live often experiences sudden, mighty Snowfalls and if one happened before or when he got here, he would have come 9,000 miles out of love and I would have no dog run. Doesn’t make sense for either of us. Damn it.

 

Shook off the OMG I make bad things happen feelings like Shadow shakes off rain. Still a little wet, but dry enough to feel ok.

When negative feelings crop up, they feed on themselves, multiply like Rabbits. This one begets another one and suddenly a whole life has come under scrutiny, memories retrieved to bolster the black mood.

When I drank, I often followed this spiral: I didn’t go to graduate school. I married stupidly, twice. I’ve not taken a direction in my life, rather let life carry me along like flotsam or jetsam. No agency. Woe is me and my sad, woe begotten life. And all because my mommy died young.

Nope. I’d been making choices all along. Many of them poor: Judy and Raeone, seminary. The Peaceable Kingdom. Not my woe begotten life, a Charlie begotten life that did not synch up with my values. No wonder I felt miserable much of the time.

After sobriety. Still plenty of work to do, to grab life in my own hands, shake it until it made sense, expressed who I saw myself to be. John Desteian helped me through it.

That dream. The pivotal one. I had a sword, held it high in the air over my head, lightning crackling around it while a crowd chanted, “He has the power. He has the power.” Yes, in fact I did and had had it all along. The power to change, to redirect my life.

And so I did.

 

Just a moment: Trump pardons convicted narcotrafficker, Juan Orlando Hernádez. Then, surprise! Honduras issues an arrest warrant for him for money laundering and fraud. Too bad for him Trump is not president of Honduras.

Now let’s play Where’s That Video? Oh, the guy it might indict has control over its release? OK. Will he at least release his actual orders, then? Like Federal Law requires? Again, recess is over. Time to pretend we’re adults now.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Health, Memories

I have

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Monday gratefuls: Pictures of Shadow. Missing her. Darkness. Resolve. Football. Da Broncs. And, yes, always-the Vikes. The Nuggets. F1. Alexandria beats Anderson in the Wigwam (sic) 1963? Bobby Plump. The Indy 500. Jim Clark. A.J. Foyt. Mario Andretti and sons. Sports. The Atlanta Rabbits.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gevurah

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah: Malchut     Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Cleaned up the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher, putting dirty dishes in, a cycle, wiped down the counter, washed a sheet pan and a large bowl, poured myself a glass of eggnog, and sat on my stool as my porkchop, broccoli, and potato puffs warmed up.

 

Radiation starts up again today. I think. If the biomed engineering techs got it back up and running. Finishing Thursday, seeing Bupathi on Friday.

Clinac iX. My photo

When I talked to Dr. Carter last Tuesday, he repeated what I keep hearing from various sources. “We’re treating your cancer like a chronic disease.” Hard to say how amazing this statement is. I’ve had stage 4 cancer since 2022 and he says it’s a chronic disease. Stage 4 has, historically, meant the end. And soon. Now, chronic disease. Wow.

On a sidenote. Don’t you think the Clinac looks like an adorable, goofy cartoon Dinosaur?

 

A curiosity: Have been unable to quash these wandering questions, maybe doubts, about my life. Am I a drama King? If everything’s running smoothly, something must be wrong?

Do I push situations in my life toward the extremes? After I quit drinking, I would have, up to this point, have said no. Even after divorcing Raeone and leaving the ministry, I felt strong, like I’d made necessary choices, not pleasant ones, choices to align my life with my values and beliefs.

Then, marrying Kate. We had this wonderful life together where we consistently made choices to support each other, family members in need, to support Mother Earth, to love and care for dogs. To travel the world together. Of course we had our differences, our troubles but we loved our way through them.

The move to Colorado, to be near the grandkids, extended that life into the Rocky Mountains. Where I got cancer. Where Kate got sick and died. Where all four of the dogs we brought with us died. Where I’ve now spent four and a half years in this wonderful home she found without her. Where back pain and a bad hip have left me less than able since Korea in 2023.

Then I adopted Shadow. 10 months ago. An up and down experience. As you, dear reader, already know.

I’ve written because I find writing brings me clarity, is the closest thing to true self-therapy I’ve ever found.

My conclusion, after having written this, looked back with I feel is honesty, I’ll answer my own question. These situations, especially since the move to Colorado, have been moments not of me pushing things to an extreme, but of me being forced by circumstance to confront and deal with real life extremes. Physical illness. Death. Mental illness. Grief. Jon and Jen’s nasty divorce, its fallout, then fallout from his death. Now the life of a dog I love wrestling with her own demons.

And, that’s ok. Life is as it happens. The key question is, do we show up to meet it there. I have.

 

Art and Culture, Cancer, Dogs, Health

Boarding School and Radiation Vacation

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow. Natalie. Dr. Josy. Concerned friends and family. Boarding school. Shadowless. Grief. Darkness, my old friend. Respite care. Joe. Seoah. Murdoch. Vince. Nathan. Dogloo. Preparing an outside space for Shadow. Men’s group. Straw. Hard insulation. Heating pads. Heater for Water bowl.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Resilence

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah: Malchut     Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Natalie easily clipped on the yellow leash, Shadow calmed after an excited greeting of her old friend and followed her up the stairs and into Natalie’s truck where she waited while Natalie came back down to grab the food, carried it upstairs and I was Shadowless for the first time in ten months, no curled up doggie beside my pillow last night.

 

Dog journal: And so. Shadow is gone. Off to boarding school for a month. Natalie says she is: “A little overwhelmed, but handling it well. All the dogs here accepted her immediately.” She’ll send pictures today.

Dr. Josy examined her and drew blood in preparation for prescribing doggie fluoxetine for her PTSD. Which we all agree she must have since she has stayed outside in bitter cold (for Colorado) in spite of being offered food, warmth, and love. Animals act in their self interest unless something intervenes. Bizarre behavior.

Natalie has found a fifteen pound dog, Alfie, who needs a new home. She will introduce him to Shadow, then to me. Might be of the yappy sort, but if he can help Shadow learn normal doggie behavior, I’ll adapt.

I’ve most often cared for multiple dogs so that will not be a challenge. Question of fit with Shadow and me is the primary issue.

Have to find someone to build the outside dog run. Vince. Nathan, or Joe. One month. I’ve figured out the heated shelter for her and the fencing, the design. Have to settle on a gate. Of course, it is winter but I doubt the ground’s frozen yet. It’s not been cold enough for long enough.

 

Clinac iX. My photo

Health: Got a call from Alise yesterday morning. The Clinac had issues and I couldn’t get my radiation. Not surprised after learning annual maintenance costs on these hyper sophisticated machines runs between three and five hundred thousand dollars.

That would be a high paying blue collar job, technician for radiation machines. Requires a minimum AA degree in biomedical engineering with more complex responsibilities requiring a BS in biomedical engineering. Experienced techs can make a hundred thousand a year or more with additional money coming from overtime pay. I would imagine overtime is plentiful. When these machines are down, patients aren’t getting treatments and hospital/clinics are losing revenue.

Which all means my treatments now extend through Thursday.

BTW: Not sure about home plate in the mid left of this picture.

 

Just a moment: You make think Ukraine, Gaza, whack a drug boat, gerrymandering, or the Supreme’s on tariffs are big news. Well sure they are. But one story rules them all: Netflix buys Warner Brothers, HBO, and HBO MAX. Come on folks, priorities.

 

 

Cancer, Dogs, Health, Politics

Boarding School for Shadow

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Friday gratefuls: Dr. Josy. Natalie. Boarding school for Shadow. Mountain folk. Tara. Snow. Radiation. T4. Nuclear fission for good. Small nuclear reactors. Good one’s built by a guy I know, a big one in Japan. Garbage people. All one. Garbage president. Cedar-Riverside. A welcoming neighborhood. Affordable housing. Built there. Cedar Riverside PAC. Economic development now at the service of Somali’s.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dr. Josy and Natalie

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah: Malchut     Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

One brief shining: Crying washes the soul, purifies it with the holy salt Water of love, of caring, of devotion, and my soul went through its holy car wash more than once yesterday as I decided with a terrible and miserable reluctance to try giving Shadow to Dr. Josy, who asked me to call her and explain, and when I did, offered to call Natalie, Shadow’s most recent trainer, see what might come next. I called her.

 

Dog journal: Yesterday Shadow had been with me to the day, ten months. And I tried to give her to Dr. Josy. Overwhelmed, sad, frustrated, confounded I couldn’t see how I could keep Shadow safe from the cold if she wouldn’t come in. She wouldn’t. My love for her meant she had to go somewhere else.

She will. Dr. Josy called Natalie, who used to be her vet tech, and they talked, cooked up a plan. Instead of going to Dr. Josy Natalie will take her for a month’s boarding. Train her with her Dogs on coming in and out, going on a leash while Dr. Josy will do a blood test, then put Shadow on doggy Prozac.

During that time I will have built an enclosure a bit larger than the foot print of my upstairs deck with a heated shelter. Then, when Shadow comes home, she’ll have a much smaller part of the whole back until she has coming in and staying in down at home, too.

Both Natalie and Dr. Josy want to make it possible for me to keep her. Both were concerned about my health and my mental health, too. I am so touched by their caring, both for me and for Shadow. Malchut.

 

The other side: On Tuesday at Rocky Mountain Cancer Care Pat came out from the radiation suite, his long mustache curled up in a smile.

“You next?”

“Yep. Did you leave any radiation for me?”

“Sure did. Asked’em to turn up for you, too.”

“Well. Thanks, dude.”

Later when I had finished he had just seen the doc, I smiled at him and his wife, Sandy. “I felt that, dude.” He laughed. “See you next time,” he said. “Yeah, for the same thing.” He laughed again.

A genuine connection at the heart level. Pat’s a short guy, wore a Western vest under a barn coat, jeans. And that hat. A baseball hat made of American flag cloth with an Eagle on the bill.

Not so different after all, left and right.