Category Archives: Aging

Changes

Fall                           Waxing Dark Moon

The leaves have finally changed color in our yard.  It happened almost over night.  Many went dry before they turned, but more have become red, gold, yellow.  The colors of fall are as much a part of our landscape as the snowdrops and daffodils are of spring.   Fall’s color gives us one last Times Square moment from the vegetal world before the emphasis moves to the monochromatic grace and elegance of winter.

Sounds like Dr. Mary Ellis may visit over Thanksgiving.  The Singapore government nixed an earlier visit due to the H1N1 virus.  Mary’s had a lot going on over the last four years.   Working and finishing a dissertation has never been easy; it consumed extra time and holidays.  This would be the first Thanksgiving I can recall in a long time that she would be here.  It’s always good to have family around during holiseason.

Kate comes home today.  Her primary exercise for the next bit of time will be walking.  Yes, she’s up and about.  No 100 yard dashes in the near term, but moving is good, real good.  She cannot twist, so no Chubby Checker’s music on the CD player.  She also has to bend at the waist, no flexing of the back.  She will need percocet for a few weeks.

Fortunately hand work is how Kate spends time while listening to lectures at continuing medical education so she has projects to keep her busy.

As soon as she’s able (maybe right now), she can also start using the treadmill.  5 minutes at first, then more as she heals.

The House That Harvey Built, We Have Made a Home

Fall                                                New (Dark) Moon

The house that Harvey built ( Harvey Kadlec) as a model house for Kadlec Estates–3122 153rd Ave. NW, Andover, Minnesota–became a home long ago.  The kids have contributed memories and projects.  The land around the house has had many iterations of plants and vegetables.  Kate has sewing materials and tools scattered here and there.  I have books and computers.vegachair

With Kate off in the hospital this home reverts part way to house.  Without her here part of the spirit of the home dwells elsewhere.

Houses are inanimate, things of wood and metal, pipes and plastic.  The house, or the apartment, at least in America, will have serial occupants.   Except for those folks who work with architects, their construction and  siting decided by someone else, often a construction company, these sophisticated shells provide shelter from the elements and changing seasons.  Various ports of entry connect a house to electrical service providers, a gas company, a cable or satellite service for TV and broadband internet, water and sewage removal.  Often a patch of earth surrounds the house, a buffer between the house and the outside world.

A home, now that’s another matter.  A home is a house (or apartment) that has been made real in the Velveteen Rabbit way.  It may have a step or two that jiggle when walked upon.  Maybe one or two windows have their weatherstripping coming loose.  The floors probably have scuff marks and once pristine walls have chips showing the wall board beneath.  At any time there is probably a light bulb out somewhere.  The gas fireplace stopped working two or three years ago.  The water pressure is not what it once was.

That brand new furniture that looked so good in the show room?  A dog is asleep there now with a young boy.  The cat scratched the chair and though long dead her mark remains.  The beds in the home have bred dreams, consoled sadness and rocked with anticipation on holiday mornings.  Showers have cleansed little boys before t-ball games, girls before prom, mom and dad before anniversary dinners or after funerals.

Cars have been dissected across the dining room table.  Gardens planned.  Weddings, too.  Thanksgiving dinners and birthday parties.  The oven still has the remnants from a first cake.

Kate on Tuesday

Fall                                              New (Dark) Moon

Back from the hospital to visit Kate.  She has the blue plastic line with its black plunger next to her at all times so she can get in the morphine drip for her current fifteen minute period.  Aside from the bout with nausea during standing at around 8:30 am, she seems in reasonable, if not great spirits.  She did stand without nausea later in the day, a big step, but the pain is still intense while upright.

The People magazine I brought for her has a picture/picture puzzle where you have to identify the things that change from one picture to its near-identical twin below.  I gave it to her and she found 6 right away (out of 10).

We chatted off and on about the dogs, Ruth, her sisters, hospital care and the every dependable quality of hospital food (mediocre).  She feel asleep from the morphine at one point.  I wandered off and got supper, takeout from McDonald’s.  This seemed appropriate to me since the spine folks share floors with the Minneapolis Heart Hospital.  I figured my meal could bring me back to those very precincts. When I got she back, she had her meal:  tomato soup, chocolate pudding, a fruit drink and, best of all, Coffee!  We ate together while a cold rain fell and a mist settled over the skyline of Minneapolis.

She doesn’t like the condition she’s in right now, but in her words, “I signed up for it, so I need to suck it up.”  Hmmm.

That’s all the news from Lake Woebegone for today.

Second Day at Abbott-Northwestern

Fall                                             New (Dark) Moon

Kate called.  “Hi, I called to say I’m miserable.”  In Kate talk this means something made her nauseous.  She tried to get out of bed around 8:30 this morning and nausea struck.  This sends her in a downward spiral much more quickly than pain.  The second day after surgery is the pits.  No matter the results or reasons on the second day things hurt and the immediate hurt out flashes whatever rationale the surgery had in the first place.  This will pass, but it’s no fun while it lasts.

After I feed the dogs, eat lunch and nap I’m going into see her.  She feels yucky so I think some iris are in order.

Fortunately this week is pretty light expectation wise, so I can focus on the homefront and Kate’s needs.  Right now I’m cleaning, decluttering, making things cozy for her return home.  We’ll get her healed up and functional.

Oh, I got approved by Allianz as a preferred client for long term care health insurance.   This means they predict, based on my health records, that I won’t need their money.  On that basis they’ll sell me some insurance.   Geez.

Kate’s Progress (and mine)

Fall                                       New (Dark) Moon

I went back to the hospital last night to see Kate.  She was loopy with her finger on the PCA, patient controlled anesthetic.  It adds a hit of morphine when she decides she needs it.  She has a dilemma:  the pain is intense (to be expected with work on bone) but she does not like the way the morphine makes her feel.

Current plan has her in the hospital through Wednesday with Thursday a possibility if the pain has not subsided.  Pain management and the danger of infection are the primary reasons for her stay.

When I got to the hospital around 7:20, she had just arrived her in room.   It was a long recovery.  She was happy to have the procedure finished and the healing process underway.  Around 8, when the visiting hours are over, I left a very quiet hospital.  Kate had her fingers on the TV remote.

To continue for just a moment in the vein of pathology my vertigo hangs on, not too bad, but present.  It seems to return at some level after I lie down for a bit.  What’s left now is a woozy feeling on the periphery and the sense that I might pass into nausea.  In other words the symptoms, or their ghosts, hang on though the initial insult has waned.  No fun, but it’s not back surgery either.

Kate’s Big Day

Fall                                                 New (Dark) Moon

Speaking too soon.  Vertigo returned last night, stronger than at any point during this last spell.  Damn.  An annoying experience.  This morning, so far, I feel uneasy, but ok.  Hope that continues since we have a lot going on today.

Kate’s big day.  We go in around 11:00 for her 1 p.m. procedure.  Once she’s out of her surgery and in recovery, that is, after I know for sure things have gone ok, I have to come home to feed the dogs and take a nap.  She’ll be at Abbott-Northwestern in Minneapolis for the duration, estimated at 2 days.

Groveland

Fall                                    New (Dark) Moon

As we approach Samhain, Summer’s End, on October 31st, we begin the new phase of the Dark Moon.  It finds my body healed from the bout of vertigo and relieved that the second round was milder than the first.  May it be so until it disappears.

At Groveland this morning, we had a lively and honest interchange over Groveland’s future.  I’m not sure what direction they’ll take though I have my guess.  It felt good to be in the O.D. role again.  Organizational Development is a skill I have that I use only occasionally.

The day is spectacular, sunny and warmish, a perfect mid-fall moment.

Tomorrow is Kate’s surgery.  It promises to relieve a good deal of her pain. May this, too, be so.

Not to mention that the Viking’s are working over the Ravens right now.

More Fence.

Fall                      Waning Blood Moon

Dan the fence guy came out again.  This time we’re fencing in the vegetable garden, a five foot high fence and a taut wire to run along the top of the orchard fence.  Rigel is an expensive dog.  Really expensive.  A sweetheart, yes, but a major league nuisance, too.  The electric fence, I’m proud to say, has done its job.  No more escapes since it went up.

Kate and I reupholstered the couch this afternoon, the seat cushion.  In the process I thought back over growing up and could not remember a single thing Dad ever fixed.  I’m sure he must have fixed something, but I don’t recall what it was.  Anyhow, fixing stuff ratchets up my annoyed level to unpleasant proportions because I always struggle.  The outcome does not match the effort for me.  Kate, when able, has a different ratio of effort to outcome and has a much better time.

A good run with no trips into the city.  That makes getting things done here much easier.

Kate’s in the calm before the storm, but it isn’t very calm, at least from a pain stand point.  This kind of pain, constant and intense, exacts a psychological toll as well as a physical one.  The pain requires, demands attention.  That is, after all, the point of pain.  Hey.  You.  Pay.  Attention. Now.  That attention adds a level of stress to all daily activities.  Also, at 65 any infirmity at all raises questions of mortality, of fitness for life as we’ve known it.

This is the right decision at the right time after two + years of exhausting less drastic and nominally invasive procedures.

Understanding the Anxious Mind

Fall                                     Waning Blood Moon

Finally, a city criteria list worth paying attention to:  The Daily Beast has ranked America’s Smartest Cities.  The Twin Cities come in 4th after, in order, Raleigh-Durham, San Francisco and Boston.  Denver is 5th.  Las Vegas and Fresno, California bring up the rear at 54th and 55th.  It’s an interesting read.

Kate’s surgery happens on October 19th and the surgeon requires that she stop taking her nsaid.  That means she has less pain control on board so her pain level has begun to ramp up.  This is only the first day without it.  Ouch.  We’ve also begun to reconnoiter what changes we’ll have to make in the house for her recovery period.  Move a comfy chair in front of the TV in place of the couch.  Things like that.thedress625

Kate’s sewing a lot.  She’s finished a butterfly costume complete with antennas and wings as well as a purple jumper for granddaughter Ruth.  She wants to get all this stuff done before she’s post-op.

If you have an anxious bone in your body, well, better, if you have an anxiety prone amygdala, then reading this article might interest you:  The Anxious Mind.  It recounts the work of Jerome Kagan who established the genetic imprint on reactivity.  His work undergirded the notion of a fixed temperament.

As a high reactive myself, I found the notion of a genetic imprint for anxiety strangely liberating.  It made me feel that my state was not a character flaw, but part of the package.  The article makes all the nuancing you might want related to nurture, triggers and coping skills, but the clear fact remains that people like me are the way we are because we have a hypervigilant amygdala.

When I finish sermons a week ahead of time,  investigate the costs of medicare drug and health care plans now, a year or two early, and plan my tours at least a week in advance, I display a learned strategy for managing my anxiety.  That’s why I’m not good in a crisis or under a crushing deadline.  I need time to prepare, to think things through.  I bring sufficient pressure to bear on myself.  I don’t need external stimuli.

After I got done reading this article and realizing that I was on one end of the bell curve–again, I began to wonder–again–what it must be like to have a normal, stable reaction to the work, a calm feeling in the pit of your stomach instead of a roiling mess.

It also became clear to me that I had a trigger that moved my anxiety from genetic inheritance to personality dilemma.  When my mother died, I was 17 years old.  My brain had not finished maturing.  It took years for me to integrate the confusion and insecurity that her sudden death created.

Even though previous analysis has surfaced some of this before, this particular slant, a genetic proclivity, is new to me.  It helps.

Curiosity

Fall                                   New Blood Moon

“Curiosity is one of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.” – Samuel Johnson

That may be, but I can tell you from experience that it can also lead one astray.  Since I was old enough to trek off to the library on my own, I’ve followed so many different paths, walked so many ancientrails.  The problem is this.  Each one leads to another one, or, somewhere in the midst of searching for material on liberalism I might find a remark about Greek ideas about justice.  That leads me in thought back to the Greeks, but instead of pursuing Plato I may wander off to the Iliad or perhaps to the  idea of the classics in general which might push me over to Ovid or, aware of the vast chasm between our Western knowledge of the Greek classics and any knowledge of the Asian equivalents I might get shunted off to, say, Confucius or Lao-Tse.  By that time I may recall a tour of Asian art I have on October 16th, feel a slight twinge and decide to  prepare for that.  And, where did all this start again?

This sort of meandering (I have seen the Meander River which gave rise to the Greek symbol so often seen in decorative arts.) does accrete knowledge.  It’s a slow process and the linkages may not become apparent for years, but I find now that associations, not obvious ones, come more easily.  Perhaps all those ancientrails had secret or frequent intersections that were not apparent the first or even the second or third times I used them.  I’m not sure, but there is a richness to thinking now that I don’t believe I had access to when I was younger.

Any of you have a similar experience?