Category Archives: Health

Coronavirus, Family, Health, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Ongoing

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Beltane and the Moon of Sorrow

Saturday gratefuls: Deep fried shrimp by Seoah. Wow. Delivery of six ten-year battery smoke detectors. Fire extinguishers on the way. Workout. 2 sets, but back. Teeth cleaning. My dental hygienist. Fear. Still. Protecting us. High threat of wildfire. Keeping us aware. Brenton White caring for Murdoch. The second coming. Of Covid.

Mood better today. Moods fascinate me since they seem so important for our daily life, yet they are not much discussed, and from what I can tell after a quick Google search, not much studied. One turgid page on Psychology Today referred to moods as dispositions toward positive or negative emotions. Sounds circular to me. If I’m in a good mood, I have good feelings. If I have good feelings, I’m in a good mood. Duh.

How does the weather shift in our inner life? What causes a sad front to move in, or an ebullient one? What creates an anxious mood and what dispels it? Is my melancholy a stalled mood? Curious me. Maybe sleep is a circuit breaker between moods.

POTUS the medical experimenter. May he bravely give his all so that the rest of us can know the dangers of hydroxychloroquine as a Covid-19 treatment. POTUS, his own Mengele.

Hot flashes have increased in frequency. Sneaky bastards. Why did this room suddenly become hot? Oh. Not the room. They wake me up. Make me take off layers. Go outside if it’s cool or cold. Luproned.

Dental hygienist told me what I thought was gingivitis was in fact a side effect of Lupron. Sensitive teeth, sore gums. It recedes, she says, after you come off the drug.

I’ve been on Lupron since September of last year. The side effects seem to be getting worse. On some days I’m too weak to workout. The resistance work doesn’t increase my muscles so much as prevent more loss from the sarcopenia.

It’s true that it’s better than dying. Certainly. But, like all of my cancer experience so far, I’ve experienced few symptoms from the disease, but many from the treatments. Not that I want symptoms from the cancer. The irony of it, that’s all.

Asked Kate the other day how she felt about all of her troubles. I’m tired of them, she said. I’m sure. Sjogren’s. Tube feeding. Reynaud’s. Two shortened fingers. Interstitial lung disease. Lugging the Inogen whenever we go out. Tethered by O2 tubing in the house. Small insults add up. Yet. She’s had improvements in stamina, weight, her ability to manage. Sore wrists, rheumatoid arthritis. She takes hydroxychloroquine for them. Bursitis. Neuropathy in her feet.

OK. Enough of the organ recital. Have a great memorial day weekend. One forecast puts nine inches of snow on us tomorrow or Monday. Rain. Cold. Helping us stay home.

Colorado, Coronavirus, Feelings, Jefferson County, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, US History

Moody

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Friday gratefuls: Kate and her magical power. A 30 minute walk on the treadmill. Still reorganizing. Getting there. Mussar yesterday. Confront with compassion. Oh, the magical power? She disrupts technology with a touch. Rain and snow in the forecast for Memorial Day. Bears. Foxes. Mountain Lions. Pine Martens. Mink. Humans.

Cool and gray yesterday. My mood sank with the cloudy skies. I’m just coasting, not engaged. Why haven’t I ordered groceries? Three days in a row with no exercise. Loft closer to order (seder), but a ways to go yet. Body achy. A Tree fell over in the wind. A healthy Lodgepole pine. Work to do in the yard, around the house. The pandemic. Things crowd in, get close, agitate each other like clothes in a washing machine. Ick.

That mood lingers this morning. Glad I have this outlet, this space to mirror my inner life. When I see it on the page, sometimes my mood changes. Not this one, not yet, but maybe later? The sun coming up helps, too. Colorado blue skies, bright sun. A positive.

The pandemic hangs like a pall, a meta-mood. It begins where our driveway ends, where the cars of others go by, others who may or may not be infected. Here in our safe space we three know each other, know our level of commitment to masks, hand sanitizer, to caring for our own and each others health. Out there, beyond the end of the driveway, there be dragons.

We’re among the lucky ones, privileged. It’s quiet here. Not crowded. We have plenty of space. No toddlers or teenagers. No need to get back to work. We have Seoah with us. I’m grateful.

Commentary on Religion, Coronavirus, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Weather +Climate

A Red Flag

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Thursday gratefuls: Kate, sewing. Seoah, laughing. Rigel, sleeping hard. Kep, eager to get up, get breakfast. 34 degrees this morning. High Winds, low humidity, lots of sunshine=red flag warning. Masks. The Lodgepole blown over yesterday. Equanimity. Mussar. Kabbalah class yesterday. Missed opportunities for exercise. Dave and Deb.

High Winds yesterday. Up to 40 mph, gusting lasted most of the day yesterday and Tuesday. Both were red flag days. Occurred to me that these are the original red flags. When they show up, those of us surrounded by the Arapaho National Forest pay attention. Not a metaphor.

A Lodgepole pine blew over in our backyard. Pines tend to have shallow roots. Fortunately it blew over away from our house. It could have hit the upstairs balcony had it gone south instead of north. An unintended consequence of fire mitigation, I think. Lodgepoles grow close together up here, an area clear cut for Denver early last century. I removed this Individual’s companions, left it to deal with the gusts of Wind all on its own.

Gotta get out the limbing ax. There’s other limbing work to be done on Trees felled last fall. And, there are still Trees to remove. Shallow roots are a good adaptation to thin Soil, rocky Soil, but they do have their risks. Wondering about other reasons for shallow roots.

In people shallow roots can lead to problems, too. The strong winds of the coronavirus can lead to a fall. The middah of equanimity, the topic for MVP mussar next week, is the psychic equivalent of deep roots. When life pushes us hard, say isolation or lockdown for an indeterminate number of weeks, equanimity can keep us upright. We will feel neither the need to run out and fill up the car with toilet paper, nor will we hunker down, go still, bury our fears.

Judaism has a clear view of the human experience: “Your spiritual experience will give you many gifts, but don’t expect it to relieve you of your human nature.” (Everyday Holiness, Alan Morinis, p. 99) Yes, practice equanimity, but don’t be surprised when life sends you a fire, or a virus, or a serious illness and you lose it. Notice that, congratulate yourself perhaps on a less severe reaction than you might have had in the past, and learn what you can from it. Mussar is an incremental practice that does not have an endpoint.

Colorado, Commentary on the news, Coronavirus, Family, Jefferson County, Mussar, Science, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, US History

Speak

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Wednesday gratefuls: The steer that gave his life for our ribeye. The potato, long underground, now eaten. Sweet corn. Mushrooms. Garlic. And, the helpers, butter, Tony’s prime rib rub. Seoah’s cleaning. Kate’s bowl hot pads. More sewing by her. A Red Flag Warning day. Second in a row. Heightened awareness. Taking out the trash.

The clan gathered. Mark says covid cases are down in Saudi Arabia. Might be the heat. Mary sent a drone video of a quieted Singapore. Diane reports no mask, no shopping in San Francisco. We have a VP sweepstakes going, final chips down on May 31. Prize will be one of Kate’s bowl hot pads and a Katydidit mask.

Apres zoom Seoah and I went to the grocery store. I went in, first time in quite awhile since I’ve been using pickup. Sorta wanted to. Bought only a few things: sandwich bags, pasta, snicker’s in the fun size for the freezer. Seoah did the vegetable shopping and bought more mineral water. She doesn’t like the taste of our well water. What taste?

A young couple came into the store as I entered. Oh, I see you’re not wearing masks. I’m 73. You’re putting me in danger. You’re turning away. You should feel ashamed. I’m finding my voice in this masked/unmasked world. Did the same thing at Beau Jo’s a week or so ago. An older woman tapped me on the shoulder. I agree with you. Ever since juniors weren’t allowed to go to the senior prom in Alexandria (1963) I’ve chosen to say out loud what some people keep to themselves. But, want to say.

I know at times I’m shrill. Or, a scold. I’m not willing to suffer fools silently since silence in the face of evil only encourages the bastards to believe there are no consequences. Yes, the three gates: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? Sometimes I’m not fully there on the last one. I want to be but my anger over, say, racism or flaunting disease protection protocols, often gets in the way. Working on it.

And, yes, self-righteous. Well, nobody’s perfect, eh?

In Korea the nation is open now, but everyone wears masks outside the home. If everybody wore masks, I’d feel safer and more comfortable out of the house. Though to be fair I did read an epidemiologist and m.d. authored article that said getting infected is unlikely in a shopping situation like a grocery store. They’re big, lots of air circulation, short period of exposure. That sort of thing. However. Choosing where to wear masks only makes overall compliance weaker. Let’s keep them on until we get those downward numbers consistently.

Aging, Family, Feelings, Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Open the Gates

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Sunday gratefuls: Loft closer to reorganized. Much closer. Bright Sun. Blue, blue Sky. Black Mountain tall and proud. Remythologizing. Dave. Deb. Cancer, showing us, as does the coronavirus, what really matters. The view of lodgepole pines out our bedroom window. The sweetness of my relationship with Kate. “We won the lottery when we married each other.” Kate, just before going to sleep last night.” Yep. Mario and Elizabeth, a good team, he said in a recent e-mail.

Cancer. On Dave’s, personal trainer Dave, Caringbridge site this morning. A second entry by Deb. Heartbreaking. He’s losing cognitive function. A physical therapist friend came up to their house (on the western side of Black Mountain) and helped him get out for a walk. There were pictures. He had the biggest smile on his face. The entry included this line: “We probably won’t have Dave around for Christmas.”

I’m 73, diagnosed when I was 69. Hard, but hardly unexpected. Dave can’t be much more than 50. Glioblastoma has a median survival rate of 15/16 months. Dave’s had this aggressive brain cancer for over five years. He lived his life fully in that time, including completing a a 15 mile race in the high mountains of British Columbia only two years ago. “You keep fighting,” he said, “I want to live.”

It’s not a race any of us can win. Life. You keep fighting. You want to live. You won’t.

Cancer and the coronavirus as teachers. Family and friends have gathered around Dave. His girls are home. There’s a Puppy in the house, Lucy, playing with their Dog, Flannigan. (love that name, btw) Walking. Seeing the blue Rocky Mountain Sky. The precious value of our mind. The fragility and vulnerability of us all. Humans and Dogs. Bears and Mountain Lions. Mice and Pine Martens. Moose and Elk. All us Mammals. Life, that wonderful, inexplicable gift we’ve all been given.

Don’t hide. Don’t dig moats. Don’t build fenestrated walls and towers. Lower the drawbridge. Please.

Coronavirus, Family, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, US History

Tension

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Thursday gratefuls: Living in interesting times. Rain in the forecast. Kate’s reading the Talmud, too. Breakfast on zoom with Alan this morning. The fifth covenant. Ode’s starry night, which showed up this morning. The dogs pushing me to get outta bed, come on Dad. Kate poking me. Good sleep. Dandelions, good food for bees. Greening in the pastures and meadows and roadsides and creeksides.

We’ve been under lockdown here since March 25th. That’s all of April and now, for Kate and me, half of May. Our lives have not changed too much, at least our daily lives here on the mountain. I still pickup groceries as I have for a year or so. We don’t go out. We haven’t gone out much in the last two years. I see friends and family on Zoom. That’s increased, but also preceded the lockdown. Doctor visits have decreased, thank god. Every time we go to the doctor or for any other errand we mask, used hand sanitizer after. That’s a change.

I understand the desire of workers and small business owners to return to earning money. Our economy leaves so many on a paycheck to paycheck existence. Small businesses have economic struggles in the best of economies. I understand the pentup energy in kids and adults used to being outside, with friends, outta the house. There is no shame in wanting to be active, see family, go to work. That’s life.

Which is the point, though. Life itself sometimes places difficult demands upon us. This is one of those times. Death puts a distinct end to work, to being active, seeing family and friends. For all ages. Which means that this virus creates tension between health and wealth. Where is the balance point? No one knows.

It would be good if all those gun-toting defenders of the Constitution, maskless and defiant toward those tyrants trying to keep them alive, were right. That the virus would recognize their urgency, their sense of betrayal. That a long burst from a family assault rifle would kill it. That will not be true. Will the lesson of a second wave of deaths be enough to silence them? No. Their spinmeisters already have a script. We’ll hear it soon.

Coronavirus, Health, Politics, Third Phase, US History

“Are You Stupid?”

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Tuesday gratefuls: Kate. Just because. Rain yesterday. Hoping for more to drive that wildfire danger back down to low. Mark and Elizabeth are ok. Progress on loft reorganization. New workout (old one being recycled). A wet, not so hot week ahead. Lupron. Driving me down while helping me heal. Singapore. Riyadh. San Francisco. Aurora. Context for loved ones.

Tired this morning. Walked up the stairs to the loft thinking, god, I hope this is Lupron. If next month is the last month of Lupron, maybe my strength and energy will return. Hope so. Feel like an old man.

Feeling the pressure to resume “normal” life. Just go to the store. Get gas. Hike. Shake hands. Hug the grandkids. Pick up the restaurant meals with Jon. Go out to eat.

Interesting article about how pandemics end. Messy. Is the answer. A medical end happens when the smallpox gets wiped out in the human population, but that’s very rare. There’s a societal end when folks give in to the pressure, start going out again in spite of the risk. Trouble with the societal end? It risks more flareups, new peaks.

We’re not close to even the societal end of the Covid pandemic. Many folks want to maintain stay at home, don’t want to go back to crowded offices, have customers breathe in their faces. In spite of the pressure I feel I’m in that camp.

Got into an unnecessary and stupid Facebook argument. Thought I’d learned. Apparently not. Bad modeling was at issue. They’ve been wrong. All of them. Since the beginning. All this economy shattering social shuttering was too much response for the reality of Covid.

Predicted response. Sure the initial models proved wrong. Models are only as good as the data that feed them and the algorithms that control them. Early on in a pandemic the data is bad. Noisy. Inaccurate. But it’s the data available. As a pandemic goes on, the data should become better, but with the inadequacy, the gross inadequacy of testing and contact tracing, it’s impossible to get good data. Even now. The modelers try to correct, but it’s assumptions, not facts on the ground.

After several, “are you stupid?” replies, I did not respond to any of them though I really, really wanted to, I went back to the thread and wrote, I apologize for throwing this steak on the table. Trolls gonna troll. Especially when professional trolls are feeding them their lines.

Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Memories, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

That Bastard

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Beltane and Corona Lunacy II

Saturday gratefuls: Dave and Deb at On the Move Fitness. Cancer. That bastard cancer, remaking so many of us. The coronavirus, remaking us all. Zaidy’s deli. My reuben, Seoah’s cod and bacon sandwich. Yes. That’s right. The drive in to Cherry Creek (posh neighborhood in Denver where Zaidy’s is). The ice and snow that greeted me yesterday morning. 25 degrees. Rigel back on the bed. Her meds working. Jon, Ruth, Gabe coming up tomorrow for Mother’s Day. First visit in two months.

Sad, sad news from Deb and Dave. A while back they had to choose between more radiation and decreased cognition. They chose to stop the radiation and go with chemo. Increasing fatigue took them to an MRI last Sunday. His tumor is back. There are no more treatments. They will get hospice care as needed starting next week.

Both of them have been my personal trainer and I’ve gotten to know them pretty well in that way. They encourage, train, correct, provide new workouts. I went to them after physical therapy for my knee replacement. That was early 2017. Every six weeks or so since they’ve created new workouts for me, trained me in them. Then, I go home and follow the new routine.

Dave and I have talked about our cancer. His was glioblastoma, an aggressive brain cancer. He’s outlived the longest survival projections by a year or so, probably due to his extreme fitness and will to live. Mine, the old man’s cancer, the slow one. We both got news of a recurrence at about the same time a year ago.

Recurrences are scary. Yes, the first diagnosis is, too, but recurrence has a different flavor, a sour, bitter taste. Whatever we’ve done hasn’t worked and it’s back. Run a marathon, do well, then discover you have another 26 miles to go. With an assassin running behind you. While you’re already exhausted.

Tom’s friend, also a Dave, died a couple of weeks ago. Cancer. My friend Judy started her second round of chemo. Ovarian cancer. Leslie, another friend, has had three recurrences of breast cancer.

There are brave words to be said, sure. Sturdy thoughts and hopes. Yes. This morning though, after reading Deb’s e-mail about Dave, I’m teary, sad. A bit distraught. Not all of that’s about Dave.

Commentary on the news, Coronavirus, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Friends, Jefferson County, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, US History

Up, down

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Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Thursday gratefuls: Kate’s slowly healing fingers. The bowl hot pads she’s making. Finding her in her sewing room. Yeah! Yeah! Seoah’s concern about what happens to us when she leaves. Rigel’s blood work. Good except for slightly elevated creatinine. Getting some of my workout in yesterday. New floods for the loft. LED. Blue skies smiling at me. Green Trees and Black Mountain. Shansin filled with love, canine and human. Two meat bundles from Tony’s bought before the oncoming crisis at slaughter houses. Ruby finally clean. Rigel back from her wobbly, painful Tuesday.

As states reopen, it is clear what will follow. Our numbers as a nation, for deaths, for infections, for carriers without symptoms, for increased division between the masked and the unmasked, will multiply. It’s the nature of infection, of putting a penny on one square of a chessboard, then two on the next, then four on the next. You know the result.

Whether or not Trump realizes this, he’s placing a huge, a mega-whopper wager, the worst wager, the worst bet of all time, that the economy will rise before his election chances sink under a sea of body bags. He’ll lose that bet, but not before thousands more die and the infection fills hospitals.

Instead of the United States, folks around the world will refer to us as Little Italy with a bigger problem. You may have heard, or even read, Fintan O’Toole’s column in the Irish Times, THE WORLD HAS LOVED, HATED AND ENVIED THE U.S. NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, WE PITY IT. If you haven’t, here’s the link to a copy of it.

I go up and down. Right now down. Can’t think too much about the armed protesters in Michigan, the willingness to choose the economy over sensible precautions. Puts me out of the now and into a tomorrow I find distressing to imagine. Stay up, Charlie, on Shadow Mountain. With your Family and Dogs. With the Trees and the Mountains. Read the Talmud. Exercise. Write. Play. Let tomorrow come in its own time and in the way it will come.

Colorado, Coronavirus, Denver, Dogs, Family, Health, Jefferson County, Politics, Third Phase, US History

The Unmasked

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Beltane and Corona Lunacy II

Wednesday gratefuls: Rigel’s recovery from dental work. Seoah’s kind heart. All my friends and family who have avoided Covid. So far. The people who believe in Trump. Those of us who don’t, won’t, can’t. Angkor Wat. Bayon. Ta Phrom. Mary and her Singapore. Mark and his Riyadh. Diane and her San Francisco.

Into a theoretically still closed down Englewood/Denver for Kate’s appointment with Pullikottli. She’ll go in; I’ll drive off and read Middle Game. The doctor appointments have decreased. By a lot. Fingers this week. Lungs in June. Nothing else for her at this point.

I get another psa in early July and see Eigner later in the month. Last year at this time it was the Cancer Moon. May, the merry, merry month of May, 2019. Fights with the insurance company. Imaging studies narrowing down my treatment options. Driving to hospitals, lying down under expensive electronics. Drinking this. Having this injected. Waiting for results. Wondering.

Masks. A metaphor. Those who think they don’t need to wear one wear their anger and fear. I suppose masks are a willingness to be vulnerable in public, difficult. Wish the unmasked would realize the masks were to protect their parents, their grandparents. Those they love. For the men, it is an act of masculine protection. If we could make them see this, maybe they would put down the assault rifles. Maybe.

Diane voiced her concern about the new world abornin’. Guns in state capitols. The masked and the unmasked. I’m concerned, too. Basic American values like freedom, liberty, individual rights have been hollowed out and weaponized by a flagrantly stupid demagogue. When my body, my choice gets deployed to defend the right to infect other Americans? Not sure where we go from that point.