Category Archives: Family

Family, Health, Jefferson County, Mountains, Park County, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Weather +Climate

Weird about the cold

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Samain                                                  Moon of the Winter Solstice

We’re in the cool zone here. Zero right now. Coloradans are weird about the cold. When the temps head toward single digits, they break out the down coats and head for the King Sooper to stock up. They do the same when there’s much snow in the forecast, too. Kate and I just shake our heads. Silly Coloradans. Spend a winter in Minnesota.

Jon went to A-basin yesterday but due to the closing of Loveland Pass he drove all the way to Fairplay, over Hoosier Pass, through Breckenridge then backroads. A long drive, but beautiful. Fair Play is the county seat of Park County, all of which is South Park. South Park inspired the adult cartoon.

I see my internist tomorrow. She wants to check out my 02 levels and my use of narcotics. Healing faster now.

From the land of high mountains, blue skies and abundant ski and bicycle racks.

Family, Health

Bandage Removed

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Samain                                                      Moon of the Winter Solstice

Over to Panorama Orthopedics H.G. today. It sits next to Earth Trek, an indoor climbing wall, and across from the difficult to read Jefferson County Courthouse. Is it a museum? A housing complex? An observatory?

Saw Becky, one of my surgeons p.a.s. She removed my acquajel bandage and I saw the glued together incision, no stitches, for the first time. It’s a ragged wound from above my knee to about 5 inches below it. It was a ritual moment, the bandage removal. It felt significant, a milestone on this journey.

We had planned some shopping, but I chose to go home, get out the ice, then go straight to bed. This was my first lengthy outing and it exhausted me.

Later we drove into Aspen Park where I signed up for physical therapy, the out patient version. Then, lunch at JJ Maddens, a so-so Italian place not far from Select Physical Therapy.

The drugged out haze seems likely to continue for a while. Buddy Mark O says it lasted a while for him, also saying, very helpfully, “It was worth it.” Right now that’s still a question mark to me. All pain and only some gain.

Looking forward to the time when the knee is not the first and last thing on my mind each day.

Family, Health, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Monitoring

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Samain                                                      Moon of the Winter Solstice

Yes, self-absorbed. It’s one of the moral hazards of serious illness or significant medical procedures. The world is about my temperature, my pain, drugs, sleep, diet, chair. Other’s agree. For a while. But there comes a point where too much attention can become a path to a different, darker place. In that place the original cause for self-absorption passes, but the demands for preference do not. I’m raising the red caution flag for myself. (ok. yes, it’s ironic I do this on a blog devoted to my thoughts and life)

It’s time I began to take on tasks again. That gentle veil of opiates is still there, so is the pain, but my understanding of what this will take is also much greater now. Time and persistence. That’s what it will take. So, I’m on that and on integrating myself back into my life.

Kate’s taking a rest day, maybe two or three. The divorce. The grandkids on weekends. My surgery. Her own arthritis. She’s a dynamo that’s slowly wound down. Needs a recharge.

The main lineaments of the divorce, the rules of disengagement you might call them, are recorded. (I think.) Given the drama and pitched battles of the past few months you could be forgiven for thinking this is the end. Really, though, it’s the beginning. Being divorced is a verb, an ongoing action and it relates to the after marriage. Ask anyone who’s negotiated what to do with a sick kid. Or, had to choose a new school for children in a shared custody arrangement. Ask anyone whose heart thumps on that first date. Ask anyone who’s self-doubt still drags a locked trunk marked: the ex.

Let the after marriage life begin! And, as my buddy Bill Schmidt suggests, let the post-surgery life begin, too.

 

Cooking, Family, Health

Slow

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Samain                                               Moon of the Winter Solstice

Jon came in yesterday evening, billowing chartreuse ski pants, boots with snow fresh from A-basin’s recent 18 inch snowfall. It was, he said, “Worth it.” Skiing, Jon told me long ago, is “when I feel most like who I am.” He turned 48 Saturday. His 48th year will be a significant one, moving him past a painful chapter and toward what we all hope will be a better one.

Ruth built a fire in the place: small to big, one match. She did it. She is now one-match Ruth. She also moved split logs closer to the house using her plastic toboggan. A problem with the lodgepole pine that we burn is its poor heat to weight ratio. Burns fast, not much heat, lots of resin. When the fire mitigation wood runs out, I’ll probably buy a cord or two of hard wood. We can get that, at a price, from down the hill where deciduous trees make their last stand before the Rockies.

Jon’s birthday meal was yet more steak from our Carmichael Cattle Company quarter beef. We discuss the cow from which the meat came, not every meal, but often, following our short ceremony thanking it for its life on the occasion of our first meal with its meat.

Pat, the leprechaun p.t. guy who lives down Shadow Mtn. Drive on the grounds of a 1920’s/1930’s tennis camp will be here in a few minutes for another round of exercises. My follow up with the surgeon’s p.a. is this Friday so I’m prepping for what I imagine will be a less painful phase (less, not none) of the recovery. As soon as I’m off the narcotics, I can drive.

I’ve been in a morphine, dilaudid, vicodin haze since the 1st of December. I lose track of the conversation, can’t follow sentences in books, generally feel gauzy. Less so now as Kate has me on a slow wean, a tricky balance, as I’ve said, between enough pain control to exercise, but not more than enough.

Even with an attractive goal and the knowledge that I volunteered for this, the immediacy of pain and the druggy haze dominates the moment. Hard to feel beyond.

In other organ recital news Kate is off to a rheumatologist today to see if there is more that can be done for her rheumatoid arthritis: wrists, shoulder, back, ankles. When we crossed the border into Colorado, myself with Tom Crane, Kepler, Rigel and Vega, Kate with Gertie a bit later, the entire medical services industry in Colorado joined in a chorus of that old Leonard Cohen song, Hallelujah! A major revenue source coming to stay. Welcome!

This week should see marked improvement. I’m looking forward to it.

 

 

Family, Health

Dewebbing

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Samain                                                 Moon of the Winter Solstice

Trying to get the cobwebs woven by dilaudid and sweet lady morphine cleared out. Hard to do since I still need the dilaudid. And I do.

Still the pain in the knee. A week to go until I see the PA and they remove the bandage. Until then, at least, I’ll need the narcotics.

The insult is like somebody took a knife to my knee, cut the bone and hammered metal spikes into my tibia and femur. Then stitched it back up and hid the damage under a water tight, air permeable bandage.

Oh, wait.

Now I’m sleeping, following my nurse/doctor/wife’s recommendations, waking up and doing it again. Though. The general trajectory is up. The pain less, the meds fewer, a bit of appetite returning. By a week from today I’ll be in a much better place.

Family, Health, Jefferson County, Mountains, Third Phase

Getting a Knee

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Samain                                               Moon of the Winter Solsticed

Friends. I last posted on Thursday, thinking I’d be  back by Saturday. Didn’t make it. By the time I got home yesterday, about 2:30 pm or so, I was way too knackered to even type the least bit of a post.

So, here I am on Sunday afternoon, after a nap. The sky is clear; the air cool. I’ve had a shower and brushed my teeth twice. And, BTW, I have a new knee. On Thursday Kate and I sat in the Orthocolorado lobby waiting for a nurse to introduce us to the mysteries of surgery in this place. Eventually, Mac came out to get me. Mac was a fifties, early sixties woman with high hair and a casual manner.

She collected my answers to the first of what she assured me were redundant questions. She was right. Yes. 2/12/1947. Yes. Charles Buckman-Ellis. It was also true that it was the left knee. Sure, put your initial right here. Later on Dr. Pagel came in and told me about the anaesthesia. Spinal. Conscious sedation. Fine with me. Better than fine really. Less risk. Dr. Peace dropped by, too. He initialed the knee. Very collegiate.

Then, they hit me with the versid and the next moment I was in room #366, new knee in place, smiles all around. I had just played a totally unconscious role in several peoples’ workday and recalled nothing of it. The sky had begun to bruise. My surgery was at 11 am and it was now 5 to 5:30pm.

My nurses and CNA’s were delightful. We discussed pain using the familiar 1-10 scale. My pain seemed to hang around 3 or  4 for much of the evening and night. It was a liberating experience to have my pain well controlled. In the early morning hours of Saturday, between the shift transition, my pain got up and strolled around a bit. It hit 7 or 8 and my new nurse, Stacy, was late getting to me, so I suffered for the early afternoon.

Later on though, when Amy from the night before came on duty (12 hour shift) we worked together to see the pain reduced. I’m still basically taking that pain regimen. It includes dialudid, long acting morphine and occasional doses of acetaminophen. It’s effective for pain reduction, but not so hot for linear thought.

Gabe and Kate came to pick me yesterday since Jon and Ruth were skiing. Once back home we had to get home oxygen set up because narcotics suppress the lung functions. I went straight to bed and slept on my stomach.

I’ll get back to you later, maybe this evening, maybe tomorrow morning.

 

 

Faith and Spirituality, Family, Judaism, Third Phase

Sabbath

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Samain                                                                            Thanksgiving Moon

sabbathThe sabbath as a day of rest fascinates me. It seems, in our ramped up and goal oriented culture, it’s easy to lose sight of truly important matters: family, inner work, reading in a spiritual or religious tradition that works for you, meditation.

While investigating a Reconstructionist Judaism understanding of the sabbath, I came across an idea I’d missed in previous study. The sabbath is not a day set aside from work, though it is that; but, more specifically, it is a day set aside from creation. On the sabbath we rest from making, from shaping, from forming. Why? Well, of course, there’s the 7th day in the Genesis account of creation. There’s also the notion of not arrogating to ourselves the creative power of the universe. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t create. It means we should be clear about the limits of our creative abilities. Taking a day off puts a clear barrier between us and a life submerged in effort.

challah-2-300x280I’m easing into this starting this week. Therefore, this post, though an act of creation, is a signal not to expect a post from me anymore on Saturday mornings or during the day. If I make a Saturday post, it will be after sundown when the sabbath ends.

So next week, no Saturday morning post. We’ll see how this experiment goes.

 

Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Family, Great Wheel, Myth and Story, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Born to Wonder

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Samain                                                                                    Thanksgiving Moon

black-fridayWe have entered the corporate zone. Black friday is a religious event in board rooms across this great land, accountants eagerly showing spreadsheets of how much money will be made from poor people desperate for a decent present to give loved ones. Yes, once we’ve put away the gravy boats, the extra large platters, the aluminum foil we can move on to the biggest revenue source-I mean, holiday-of all: Christmas.

Looking out at Christmas from within my pagan earthship and now also from within the friendly confines of Congregation Beth Evergreen, I can marvel at how the Santa Claus, Christmas tree (a pagan German contribution), bright lights, banquets and family gatherings accreted themselves around a minor Christian holiday, the celebration of the incarnation.

This is weird in two ways. First, the accretions are much more fun than the actual holiday. Second, many people think the accretions are the holiday.  Among those people are retailers who want to sell, sell, sell right now.

rudolphThe notion of incarnation and its celebration hooked up with the Roman Saturnalia and the rest is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I don’t know what percentage of annual retail sales occur post-Thanksgiving, but I’m sure it’s more than you’d think. According to this site, 30% of all retail sales happen between Thanksgiving and Christmas, 40% for jewelers. Think about that. A holiday focused on a great God’s voluntary assuming of human form focuses now on ringing cash registers.

I know. This is a tired argument and I agree. Still, the irony is so thick at this time of year, I might have to get out my chainsaw to cut it. And, I’m not proposing to put the Christ back in Christmas. In fact, I’d be ok if Jesus (not yet the Christ, the messiah, at his birth) was decoupled from the festival of lights we call Christmas. In my opinion the gift-giving, song singing, wassail guzzling, home decorating holiday is just what we need as the Great Wheel turns toward its deepest darkness. Maybe take the Christ out of Christmas?

Thank about that idea though, the incarnation. Really, a pretty spectacular claim. God, the god of creation, of the flood, of the exodus, of the Sinai, of the ark of the covenant, of the Hebrew prophets, decides, like a genii in the Arabian nights, to decoct himself/herself into a living human body. Now that’s a reason for a holiday. As a cause for celebration, it’s pretty good.
namasteMy version though puts forward not an individual event in Bethlehem, not just incarnation in one child, but an incarnation in every child. Each babe is a true miracle, the universe creating and recreating creatures who can reflect on it. Life, as a random feature of development on this blessed planet, animates, literally, inanimate matter. Life is a godlike power, awesome and equal to any of the claims about the powers of Allah, G*d, Vishnu, Mithras, Ahura-Mazda.

We are born to wonder; there is no need to wonder why we are born. We are here to be in the world, touching and seeing and hearing and tasting and smelling the stuff of very stuff. We are born as witnesses to the furnace of creation inherent in each atom, molecule, dna strand, star, planet and comet. We have no more important duty than to be present as the world creates, recreates, as the cosmos does the same.

 

 

Commentary on Religion, Commentary on the news, Family, Judaism, Politics, Third Phase, US History, Weather +Climate

This Political Climate is What Trump Gave Us.

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Samain                                                              Thanksgiving Moon

A man who lives on Conifer Mountain, across from us and next to Black Mountain, posts on Pinecam.com as the weathergeek. He provides those of us who live in the Shadow Mountain, Black Mountain, Conifer area weather forecasts tailored to our peculiar microclimate. His tagline to his posts is: “Climate is what you expect; weather is what you get.”

isabella-bird-elementary-school-stapleton-co
isabella-bird-elementary-school-stapleton-co

As I woke up, weathergeek’s tagline crossed over into the political. Why? Because of this picture. The father of a student at Isabella Bird posted it on facebook with the note: this is personal.

I’ll say. Both Ruth and Gabe go to elementary school in Stapleton and live near it. They attend Schweigert Elementary. And, they are both Jewish. This is the sort of toxic display, coming from an equally toxic inner world that frightens Jews in particular. By extension this evocation of Nazism and the holocaust puts fear into the lives of all of us not perceived as, well, white, straight, Christian and patriotic Americans.

In Ruth and Gabe’s neighborhood. At an elementary school in their neighborhood. Not. Acceptable. Ever.

Here’s how weathergeek came into this. My immediate thought was to blame Trump, to connect his racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, homophobic, climate denying campaign rhetoric with this specific act. But, of course, I can’t. Not with the information I have now. This kind of graffiti pops up in American cities and small towns from time to time. Just go on the website of the Southern Poverty Law Center if you don’t believe me.

kkk12n-7-webAnd so. Climate is what you expect. Weather is what you get. Trump and his rhetoric is now the national climate for acts of hate. I expect people like the KKK, Westboro Baptist, climate deniers, women haters, anti-Semites have been emboldened to act both by Trump’s rhetoric but also by the violent, thuggish behavior he not only allowed but reveled in at his rallies. In other words the climate relative to non-white, non-male, non-European, non-Christian, non-straight life is turbulent and chaotic, tending toward personal acts of violence and scorn.

When we get a particular weather event, we have to follow the evidence to certainly connect it to the change in the national political climate. Once we’ve done our work often enough and comprehensively enough, we will be able to connect individual events with Trump. The “alt-right” video from the Atlantic posted below is one example. As we gather these instances, we must begin to create a defense strategy. The safety pin is one such strategy.

splcOn these matters I believe defense is the strongest act right now. Reaching out to the government for help against these grievances will prove futile. Jeff Sessions as attorney general? Come on.

How would that defense look? I don’t know. It might be small reaction teams formed in churches, synagogues, Buddhist temples, mosques; or, in local branches of the Democratic party, the NAACP, JCC’s, the ACLU, civil rights and human rights groups. Even many small businesses and other non-profits like unions and Planned Parenthood might form teams, too.

What would they do? Not sure. At least go to the site of an incident and do some investigating, produce a report, send it to the Southern Poverty Law Center or some other place serving as a clearing house. On site they could also co-ordinate efforts to help victims with money, legal help, emotional support. They could also co-ordinate, as was done by parents in the instance of Isabella Bird school, actions to erase graffiti, repaired damaged homes and buildings. Probably other things occur to you and I imagine, if these teams came into being, that there would be multiple ways they could engage with acts of hate.

In Stapleton. Swastikas on an elementary school. In a community where my Jewish grandchildren attend elementary school. Never again. We must all say it and mean it and ally with each other to prevent this virus from spreading.