The curse of the working class

Back to work. One day is tolerable. Four more to go. Thankfully, no evening activities this week. That will help. I came home from work and watered the gardens and fixed dinner and ironed two shirts and it was 7 p.m. What happened to the day? No wonder I don[t get anything done during the work week. And gee, if you thought the conuncdrums during recuperations were mundane, imagine the inspirations that will hit me now. I turned in three prayer shawls - one baby and two adult. Sounds like an accomplishment but they were all started at prostatectomy time. Nineteen months is a bit long, when I have completed one prayer shawl in a matter of weeks in the past. Knitting is a better winter activity than one for summer. Painting is good in summer because of daylight, but necessitates air conditioning and longer duration of odor in a closed up house. A friend recently told me blogging is passee. NPR opined this morning on the way back to the grind that blogging is a good way to keep people informed and has become a regular tool of the intelligentsia. OK, I'll claim that one. I have decided as I am skating toward my sixth decade that being part of the elite is a good thing. Call me liberal elite. I claim it! I extol it! I celebrate it! I sing the body electric! What? Walt Whitman? Blogging is more fun than work. I just wonder if it is at least a bit amusing to those who avail themselves. Y'all don't say much! But I'll continue to prognosticate and prevaricate and proffer conundrums until I feel no point to it. Meanwhile, keep on reading! Check back occasionally. You just never know what is going to pop up here. Although, it would appear there is a definitely predicatbale pattern. How many shirts do I iron in one day??? Something is wrong. How many dress shirts do I wear in one day? Now here is a conundrum! No, I do NOT iron every day, but I DO wear a shirt every day! Good thing too - too old for that bare-chested young stuff! I better quit before I really get in trouble!!

Downsizing

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single gentleman in posession of his own household must be in want of a maid. No wonder. Old age and work conspire against maintaining a household. I've been home a month and have rid my household of much, yet I swear I could be home another month and remain quite occupied with home improvement and home maintenance. No wonder there is so much to do because so much doesn't get done because of the demands of daily work and daily life. I am ready to make another run to Goodwill, whch will now have to be done one day after work. I already have two contractor bags for the regular trash collection. And there seems to be no end in sight. I wonder if there will ever be a day when ALL the shirts are ironed. Forty hours for the state seems daunting. September 15th seems so far away. Will it bring final release and return to normal? Meanwhile, I must keep the exeunt status of things in my household. This will help keep life somewhat manageable. Except now, there won't be as much time to think about it. However, exeunt is good.

On Curtains & Congress

Some time after I first moved into my house, I found an old orange curtain left by the previous owners in the cabinets in the laundry area. I later learned that the previous owners were heavy smokers and used orange everywhere to hide nicotine stains, and they were not very good housekeepeers. Well, here I am getting rid of things that I have not used, and here in my house lives this old orange curatin. BUT, it will not go to the refuse pile because it is my favorite drop cloth. I cover furniture with disposible plastic but cover the floor with this old orange curtain. It is light enough to easily spread, cover and move, and dense enough to catch splattered paint. So, the old orange curtain stays until I can no longer paint.
Larry King did a show about prostate cancer. I watched to see what he would do. I generally don't like Larry King because I find him too sensational and too mired in Hollywood, as if the rest of the world should care. Anyway, I find it strange to listen to people talk about prostate cancer and have it reported that so many people don't know anything about it. The bsst part of the show was that they named lots of famous men who beat prostate cancer. For me, among siblings, two of three brothers have beat it, so I think we men who are survivors should be telling everyone we know so that everyone will know it IS survivable. However, I do not approve of Scotland sending the terrorist who was serving a life sentence home to Libya. How dumb can you be? Compassionate release? I wonder if the minister in Scotland can say that 270 times. It MUST be about oil, because the humanitarian excuse doesn't appear to cut it. And are we pleased that Tom Ridge is spilling the beans that peresons in the previous administration acted for political gain???? And under which administration has that NOT been true??? Might Congress be able to get something done if just a few of them could get past acting for political gain??? The longer we allow Congress to be ineffective and not perform their constitutional duties, the stronger the argument for term limits for all of them! Back to work on Monday. Come weep with me past hope! Return to work just in time for more furloughs! Yeah, I'll be glad to pay the union for this! Life is just grande.

Raspberry Reward

One of my exercises that I have been doing since my surgery is raspberries - a trip back to childhood. It has become such a commonplace part of my existence that I found myself doing them walking on my way to the grocery store and even walking down the paint aisle at my local Home Depot. It is probably not a good thing for a silver haired man alone to be walking about in public doing raspberries. This could incite countless cutiosities. BUT, today I had another session with the speech therapist and it suddenly became clear to me that my carefully measured vocal recuperation is paying off. From now until September 15, when I see the doctor again, I can do what is called half time speech. That means if I talk for 10 minutes, then I have to rest for 10 minutes. No counting one or two or three minutes out of ten as I have been doing for three weeks now. This next phase is much more natural. AND best of all, my speech sounds more like the same person everyone has known, lo these many years. I have also learned that I can speak mcuh more easily and be heard and understood than I used to. I think teaching and singing opera made me believe I had to use superhuman vocal production that is actually quite unnecessary, especially for a person such as I, who is well-trained in vocal technique. Singing is still weeks away, but the speech part has turned the corner. Celebramos!!!

And he saw all that he had stored...

...and he said unto himself, "Get rid of that stuff!!!" (substitute appropriate expletive) I have a cheap two-drawer file cabinet that I've had since I was in college. The bottom drawer became inoperable and caused problems such as kicking it and even almost tripping over it because it could not be made to close correctly. Now what does a thirty-year-old cheap file cabinet owe me? Nothing. And it gives me expanded floor space in my study. This is a good thing. Tomorrow, the first thing on the agenda is a trip to Goodwill. Tuesday is recycle day and there will be plenty of paper. Thursday is regular trash. It is all backing up. By the time everything has moved on, it will be time to go back to work. Alas! Here I go again... moving things. Ah, but it will be so nice to have less to worry about or even forget about. I found a screen in the basement that belonged to the old basement door that I replaced years ago. I had the door taken away with bulk trash when I had the door replaced. I forgot the screen and stowed the screen away until I needed to look for sometrhing else, and there was this old useless screen in the way. Goodwill, recycle, regular trash, bulk trash, and Carl saw that it was all good... to go!!!

One week - one project

There has been much exchange about my excuse for work. I am to return on August 24th, but the conditions are not clear. This is because the doctor says one things and then the speech therapist says something else and the nurse who wrote the latest excuse wrote something completely different. I called the doctor and talked to the nurse. That was aggravating, as it was if we did not speak the same language. I am to get another note for work, but who knows what it will say and whether or not it will match what I have understood. I am beginning to wonder if I understand what people say to me. The post-surgery experience does not match the pre-surgery explanation that I heard from the doctor. I guess it is a wonder we humans are able to communicate effectively at all. Witness the health care fury on which I already commented.
But one week left at home by most information I have undersstood means I must tackle a home improvement project. I've been sitting in the living room alot lately and noticed it is looking tired. This, of course, calls for paint. Oh, just what I need, excite the old color choice phobia. The reason the living room looks tired is because it is painted in pale greys, one on the walls and an even lighter color on the ceiling, that have reached the point that they simply appear nondescript next to my fabulously bright pink kitchen with my colorful tiled floors. No need for color phobia for the living room as my floors lead the way. The kitchen tiles have slate grey, rust and gold colorations and the hardwood floor in the living room is a darkish red oak color. I have been wanting to do the living room ceiling a darker color, but have been fearsome. Ah, but this is easy. A warm medium grey for the walls, meaning it contains red/brown and a cool medium grey, meaning it contains blue/black for the ceiling. Warm colors on the wall make the room feel warm and cool color on the ceiling means the ceiling won't feel cavelike, even with a darker color than what already exists. Don't forget the stair wall that is slate grey with shades of dark grey. And I found the perfect grey color when I did the windows in my bedroom: Silver Screen, bright cool medium gray. I can repeat a color that I already like, and since it is cool, it will go on the ceiling. That leaves finding a warmer companion color that will complement the pink kitchen and the floors. This is so much easier than anything I've done to date. A walk to Home Depot and the choice is obvious moving from the cool grays to the warmer greys and I land on Ancient Stone which looks prefect with the Musical Mist kitchen color. No need for color choice anxiety. If only getting a doctor's note that says what it needs to say would be so convenient! Maybe I won't go back to work on the 24th! No such luck! Actually, I am enjoying this R & R - not nearly as much pain as the last two surgeries. I only have to wait and see if I will be able to sing again.

Civil Discourse

I cannot believe the discourse of my fellow Americans over this health care mess! People screaming about nothing - what is this country coming to? There is more misinformation than I can ever remember about anything. There isn't even a real bill to consider yet. IT has to be the opposition just wants to make things crazy so that it looks like the controlling party can't get anything done. I am just appalled at the inane things that are said by so many average people, that I have decided there is no shame in being liberal and elite. At least we can speak coherently. Of course, I've always had my bias for intelligence and rationality. I don't think I've ever seen so much irrationality related to one thing. Maybe I need to get out more. But I am truly concerned that average Americans are so stupid. It does not bode well for my own dotage, when my faculties are not as acute as they used to be. And the decline has already begun! It is all just too amazing for words!

Too darn hot

It's the hottest day of the year, so what do I decide to do? Well, prune the roses, of course. I did some weeding last Thursday so I could be ready for speech therapy on Friday. The speech therapist rescued me from the tyranny of living my life in ten minute increments. She explained that the ratio of talking to silence is more important than the timing. I am gradually increasing the amount of time I spend talking and doing speech exercises, wile assuring that my silent periods are sufficiently lengthy in relation to the amount of talking I do. And it is best to avoid talking, but concentrate more on exercises. This is easy, since I am solitary. The roses however were beginning to look unkempt, so they needed pruning. Besides, when things cool down, that will encourage more blooming. Roses like heat, but they bloom better when it is not quite so hot. I have a brand new fig that I just planted this spring in a pot on the balcony and it has figs on it. I can't wait to find out what fresh figs off the tree taste like! My blackberries are gone and I have a few peaches straggling. I also have a few Asian pears and two - count'em - two regular pears - that will be ready later. I hooked up the soaker hose for the shade garden to soak it well in the heat. I think it is psychologoically beneficial to run the water while pruning roses. And isn't a cool shower aftert pruning just the thing?! Maybe I'll settle down with a video and some knitting to veg while I wait for the heat to dissipate as evening falls.

Eleven who went to heaven

The past two days have been lazy days - lacking initiative and subsequent progress to report. However, living in ten minute increments is aggravating. I have speech therapy tomorrow and I need to ask for a more manageable routine. Speech excercise every ten minutes is just not practical - and certainly not related to the way I have to live my life in reality. And might I not have guessed that I finally have an issue with Blue Cross Blue Shield. I pay top dollar so that I don't have to do pre-authorizations and all that mess. Guess what. Pre-authorizations are required for speech therapy. The speech therapist did the pre-authorization and then when they billed the insurance, Blue Cross denied it becausse they said it was not pre-authorized. I spent 50 minutes on the phone with Blue Cross - 46 minutes on hold - only to have them tell me that the information they had was not the same information I had. (I had a copy of the BC/BS approved pre-authorization) So they said I would have to request that the speech therapist would have to contact them, which I did. I can see where this is going to drag on for god-knows how long, and I will have collection agencies after me and all kinds of mess as a souvenir of my vocal cord surgery. All because Blue Cross screwed up. That just infuriates me. I told BLue Cross that I was furious because I pay top dollar precisely to avoid this kind of mess, I have the best policy available in the state, and here they have messed up and I have to sit on the phone, holding for 46 minutes just to find out what is wrong, due to their mistake, and it will haunt me for untold time in the future. Needless to say, my anger will not get me to join the eleven. BTW - it's a counting song, if you haven't figured that out!

Nine bright shiners

OK - on to a different theme other than Genesis. However, who knows the source and the reference? Today is the ninth day. Did anyone notice I skipped eight? At some point I will have to figure yet another numbering scheme, or just abandon anything related to numbers. Today was follow-up. My life for the next month is to be lived in 10-minute increments, consistently increasing the amount of time I can talk. I have to wear a stop watch and time myself so I do not exceed the amount of time I am allowed to speak. Today I begin at one minute out of ten. Over the week-end I can increase it to two minutes, then three etc. until I get to five. Once I get to five minutes of allowed talking, then I can go back to work, which will be on August 24th. I must do speech exercises if I am home alone and not talking at the times I am allowed to talk. Next appointment with the doc is September 15th. Bad news - I may NOT sing before that date. On September 15th, provided I've done my recovery well, the doctor will release me to sing, and that should come back rather quickly. However, I was sternly warned that if I do NOT do a good job on this recovery, I will be hoarse for the rest of my life! Don't you think I am going to be strict and conservative!?!?! MOI? Old age is just more wonderful than anyone will ever let on!!!

And on the seventh day God finished...

... the work that he had done. Now that I've used up Genesis, what do I do for the eighth day? Circumcision?...continuing the Hebrew Biblical vein... Nah, that's old news. Although Paul claims we are neither circumcised nor uncircumcised. Nice talk for the Sabbath, huh? But I know one thing: My mission, should I decide to accept it, which indeed I must, is to get as much stuff out of my house as possible. I have learned that my problem is not with housework, but with keeping everything in the house as it ought to be and I really simply have too much stuff in this really small house. With room renovations every six months lately, I've just moved things from here to there and not kept up with getting rid of things. I have held on to things because I simply don't wear out anything, and it's just plain silly. Why should I keep Granny's towels just because they belonged to her and they don't match anything in the eclectic decor of my house? Now that's going some - no match for anything of the decor of my house when my design philosophy is that nothing should match anywhere in my house. OK - only minimal matching - pairs of curtains on the windows, sheets on the bed - though I have 4 pillows and 2 pillow cases are contrasting to those that match the sheets - and sometimes no pillow cases exactly match the sheets. The trash collectors are going to love me this week. Not only am I emptying at a dizzying rate, but the city changed the collection days and routines. True to form, they did not send a notice. So I have piles that will not make them happy. But now I can't wait until Tuesday when I find out how much longer my silence will last - also, how many more trips to Philadelphia I have to make, and when I might return to work. The drive isn't so terrible, it's paying to park that kills me. I hate to pay to park, and Philadelphia is so expensive. But finding free parking during the day is like finding a needle in a haystack. I'd have to spend a day scouting the area to understand the nuances of parking, and it is quite enough just to visit the doctor. Begrudgingly, I pay. And the tolls... your state government at work! If I don't rack up enough this year for a break on income tax, the system is indeed crooked! Come on Tuesday! And there was evening and there was morning the seventh day.

Let us make humankind...

... God said on the sixth day. Carl said, "You better start thinking about things you really need to get done while you have time at home." I've become a person ruled by nights and weekends because that's when I get the best rates on utilities. I save laundry, dishes and telephone calls where I want to just talk for evenings and week-ends. I am amazed at having given up my land line and now relying solely on my cell phone how quickly the anytime minutes get eaten up, but I come nowhere close to using the nights and weekends. I also pile up the laundry with the intention of throwing in a load here and there in the evening, but doing most of it on the weekends. And I only run the dishwasher on the weekend. Today I ironed shirts and ironed shirts and ironed shirts and ironed shirts. And besides that, I ironed shirts. The good thing is that the ironing board is in the basement, so even in the heat of the day it is cool and the steam doesn't bother me. My thought about what I really should get done before I run out of time led to ironing shirts. I have too many dress shirts. I had not ironed any long sleeved shirts from the winter. I won't put a dress shirt on my body unless it has been ironed. I can't make myself take shirts to the laundry when I can iron them myself. Cheap. Don't want to pay someone to do something I can do myself. But I really need to pare down the collection! Perhaps I need to put together a bag for goodwill - towels and shirts, maybe a set of sheets or two. Need to make a decision as I'll be returning to work too soon! Tomorrow is Sunday. Will I rest on the Sabbath? Isn't that what I've been doing more than anything else? I have a list of accomplishments that must be met on Monday. Everything must be done early because I have to rest so I can be in Philadelphia at 8 a.m. on Tuesday for my follow-up. Monday will be a bad day to be out and about because all the seniors will be out because it will be the first business day after social security. That always makes everything everywhere slow down. Of course, I have to get some cash for the Phillie trip, in case of emergency. The bank is not a good place to be on the first banking day after social security. If the post office is having trouble because everyone is paying bills online, why can't the seniors all do their banking online and stay away from the banks after they get their social security money? It will only get worse as we boomers get to social security age. Maybe not, because we'll be more accustomed to online banking. Bad thing about ironing - I want to sing - I usually play sing-along music to keep my mind off the drudgery. Wanting to sing is worse than wanting to talk. I never realized how much I sing or hum while I wander through ordinary daily life. So not talking isn't as bad as I imagined - as long as I am practicing my hermitage. Not singing is a disaster! I just wonder how much longer I will be told on Tuesday the silence will last. Wow, talk about rollover minutes this month! Somehow, I think the electric bill will be a record, though I have been very careful NOT to turn on any appliances during peak hours. I haven't touched the air conditioning programmable thermostat, but allowed it to do its regular cycle, getting warmer through the heat of the day. Being home during these summer days has shown me how energy conscious I am. I do a credible job. However, ironing shirts is never pretty. I used an entire bottle of spray starch and more today! Thanks to Aunt Mary Lou for making sure I am so persnickety about that chore! There are still more shirts to iron. I have to think about and prioritize what will get done for the rest of the time I am home. I have to think about how to spend the Lord's day when I cannot go to church. Missing church is so rare in my life. I'll listen to some sacred music and pretend I am hearing it live! And I can keep knitting and praying any time. And there was evening and there was morning the sixth day.

Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures...

...and let the birds fly above the earth, God said on the fifth day. Carl said, "I better get the door done, since I've made such a big deal out of it!" I got up early and completed the door. No problem. Then I had to go to the store to stock up on non-carbonated beverages - another limitation during the hermitage - no belching - same category as coughing and sneezing I suppose. I got into a check-out line where the cashier wanted to talk. I smiled and didn't say a word. I don't think she ever caught on. She probably figured I was the quiet type, which indeeed I am right now!Then I sat down to do some serious knitting. I have a baby wrap that I've been knitting forever. I am determined to finish it and get it out of my house - and I will never again use baby-sized skinny needles and baby yarn. It simply takes too long. I've had enough. I want to see results if I am going to expend time and efforts. I can't sustain interest even though I really don't have anything else I must do. I was going to work in the garden when the rains hit. Rain is always an excuse not to work in the garden. Perhaps the weather will cool a bit and make working outside more palatable. Painting the door was close enough for me. Good to have surgery and recuperation during the hottest weeks of summer. And there was evening and there was morning the fifth day.

New look on an old door

Let there be lights...

...in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night, God said on the fourth day. Carl said "I really don't feel like getting up today." So I read a bit, then knitted a bit, then decided there had been enough leisure for the day. The big project was to paint the door, since I had already set that up prior to surgery. I actually have plenty of little projects, but I thought I should tackle the one thing I actually thought ahead to do! Well, I cleaned the glass on the storm door which means removing the glass panels then returning them by manipulating their little screw holds, then began painting the door. I bought the new primer and paint in one. I can report from experience that it doesn't work to cover in one coat. I expected it wouldn't going from white to dark green. So tomorrow means a second coat on the door. Muscle pain is largely gone. A curious thought hit me today. How does one decide to retire linens, i.e. sheets and towels? I have some towels that belonged to my grandmother and she's been gone almost 20 years. I also have a set of towels that I bought with a shower curtain back when ducks were quite the rage during the preppy style surge. One set of grandma's towels is a bit stiff when first removed from the linen closet, but otherwise they are OK. When I was growing up, we only replaced things when they were worn out, i.e. starting to fall apart, ripped shredded and generally unusable. But, I have lots of sets of towels - spring/summer and fall/winter choices - and I have no idea when they might begin to become worn. I'll happily accept insight and advice on the subject via e-mail. Gosh here's a real chance for "Carl, you ignorant slut..." And the only thing that started this query is that I have one set of Granny's towels that I put in the bathroom on Monday and they don't match anything I have for any season. I thought I should recycle them to Goodwill or something, but there is nothing wrong with them other than they don't match any decor in my house. No problem because I am not opening my door to anyone who would even see what color towels are in the bathroom. Obviously I have too much time on my hands because these thoughts never encumbered my brain before. I'm off pain meds too, so I can't blame it on codeine - just normal regular brain malfunction. Don't laugh! I'm not supposed to be laughing during my hermitage! And there was evening and there was morning the fourth day.

Let the dry land appear...

...God said on the third day. Carl said, "I think I'll take a nap." I have slept 10 hours the past two nights following surgery, but today it all caught up with me. I have been taking naps all day. I've had muscle aches all over too. I don't know what muscle aches have to do with vocal cord surgery, but they are dissipating now. But sleep, is a wonderful place to be. And who noticed that I have been using the spellings of cord and chord interchangeably? Of course, I know the difference, especially since one is a musical term. I am blaming it on codeine. No door painting yet. Apparently I have not yet felt the urge. Tylenol 3 doesn't do what Percoset once did. I had to text Christopher because the city did not pick up my trash. He called for me since I can't talk. That's the plan for anything I need - text Christopher and he can make a phone call and talk for me. I've been e-mailing in between naps. Silence is golden - though it can be inconvenient. I could get used to this, if I could talk just a little bit and if I could always take a nap any time I feel like it! And there was evening and and there was morning the third day.

Let there be a dome...

...God said on the second day. Carl says, "I hope these muscle aches are temporary." Today, my muscles feel as if I've done some hard work - and it's everywhere - arms legs, torso and neck. Well, the neck I rather expected. I hope it is all related to the trauma of surgery. The throat is feeling better, though still mildly sore. I feel very old today. I saw a woman some days before surgery walking from Shoppers with a knapsack on her back - a boomer like myself who apparently lives in the neighborhood and decided that walking to the market is a good idea, and a knapsack makes a good conveyance for the purchased supplies. Still, not to lose the advantage of a day away from work, I got a head start on autumn and changed my bedroom curtains to the fall set, which I would do in about a month anyway, as I usually do that on Labor Day week-end. I love Swiffer dusters. Good for getting around the window frames when you take down the curtains. Good for dusting in general, I find. Hopefully, with catching more dust and especially allergens than traditional dusters, those Swiffers help reduce allergic reaction, no matter how mild. I wonder if all the cat allergens are out of my house yet? You know, I think I will be able to do loads of laundry every day I am home. There is always something to run through the washer! Tonight's dinner: bean and kale soup - yes, here I am making soup in the hottest days of summer! It's comfort food and easy to microwave. And only one dish to clean when you eat it. The initial cooking is the most effort. Naps are part of the routine too - codeine - always knocks me out - an hour or so - though I am not sleeping as much as post-prostatectomy. Have not yet tackled the front door. There will be days, yet. And there is evening and morning the second day.

All's well,

...so far. The day ended up being a 13 hour day - lots more than Chris or I bargained for. I figured the worst case scenario would be that she could be home by 2 p.m. NOT. Hahnemann is a nice hospital and they are very efficient about getting you in for outpatient surgery, but the hard part was getting out! And it was all due to the demands of work for a medical excuse. Some of you may remember that my shining personnel stars rejected three doctor's notes following my foot surgery adventure. In an effort to avoid this pratfall, I was certain to explain to eveyone pre-surgery what I needed when I left the hospital. That ended up costing me 90 minutes after the fact, probably closer to two hours. I don't know why doctors have such a difficult time doing excuses for work. The doc had told me months ago that he would write an excuse for 6 weeks, but that would be a worst case scenario. He will determine the most likely path on 8/4. So the excuse I got was written to cover until 8/3. No big deal. I just need to make sure he writes the correct thing on 8/4. We arrived in perfect time this morning. I didn't have to wait very long until they took me to prep. And the next thingI knew I walked into an operating room that was peopled by a Cecil B. DeMille cast. My doc, naturally has thousands of interns, students and colleagues intersted in his every move. I, apparently, was a model case that everyone wanted to see. And it was a micro-laser technique that I suppose is really quite interesting to the medical types. There were computers and screens and microscope-type instruments populating every corner of the room and I wondered how all the people were going to NOT interfere with my surgeon. And it was a really "short" procedure. The doc announced the success in short order to Chris. I somehow got a nosebleed during the procedure and they stuffed my nostril with something that when they pulled it out appeared about the size of a tampon - which made me wonder, except that it was not shaped correctly. It took them forever to get that packing out my nostril too - another delay, before waiting for the precious work excuse. I will get a chance to evaluate and I will complain about the post-op delays. Chris took me to deliver my hard-won excuse to work and then to the pharmacy to fill the pain med prescription - NOT Percost, thankfully - Tylenol 3 - a new experience on which I will probably report shortly. So I'm off to LaLa Land.,,and golden silentce for the next 7 days. Keep checking back. This has potential for more conundrums than I have previously dreamed.

There's just a few more hours...

...that's all the time I've got...a few more hours... before Chris picks me up to whisk me off to Hanneman Hospital in Philadelphia. I should be sleeping, but I knew I wouldn't. They'll knock me out and then won't be able to get me awake because I"ll be sleep deprived. Imagine a two hour ride home and I can't talk! It's incomprehensible. Not sleeping provides a chance to catch up on a few loads of laundry. Being home for a few weeks provides endless possibilities. But fear pervades it all. The only reason to do this is so I can continue singing. Otherwise, it wouldn't matter a hill of beans. OH, I discovered another new food stuff - cicerchia - Italian chick peas. Cook them in the crock pot with a slab of pork and lots of garlic and add canned tomatoes. Good eatin! I had them for lunch then fixed myself a nice shrimp teriyaki dinner for my last meal. Now I have to starve until after surgery. No food, no water, what's with the prison routine before surgery? I am trying to decide whether to shower now or do it a 3 a.m. to help keep myself awake. In circumstances like these, just getting from one day to the next is a conundrum! After it's all over, there'll be new conundrums. Did they bury Michael Jackson yet? Probably during my confinement, while I can't laugh, I'll hear more about that than I care to. What do you mean it's not still news? There's just a few more hours...

Color choice

As I finished up a work week from hell, I turned my attention to preparing for my impending hermitage. In honor of my memorable experience with percoset, and sure that I will be on some sort of pain reliever for a few days, I took my walk this evening to Home Depot, to buy a quart of paint for my front door. How did I decide on a color. Well, if you read the entry from a few days ago, I was thinking I should be guided by the grey/green shingles on the roof. So I took a picture of my roof on my cell phone and carried it to Home Depot to match up the color. I should do less visual matching and go by the color names on the chart. I picked Southampton Green - a dark grey/green. Southampton is probably a good colonial color choice. We'll see how I like it once it is on the door. My neighbor will probably hate it as she hates all change. SHe also doesn't like dark colors. I'll have to see how it looks with the roofing and the jungle in the front yard. One good thing about paint, you can always change it. And now that I have the paint, the painkillers will probably make me sleep and I won't get around to painting the door. This is the way life goes! Somethinga bout best laid plans...

Sounds of Silence

In 3 days I will be silent for 8 days. It seems impossible. I had my last singing therapy on Monday of last week and my last speech therapy today. It seemed so final. I have not been nervous until today when the speech therapist gave me a list of specific instructions for the days following surgery and what to do when the doctor tells me I can talk again. My last speech therapy session was about stretches and massages and she says I can continue those three days after surgery, but I should do nothing but rest for two days immediately following the surgery. Yet another reason for silence following surgery - laughing is one of the worst things I can do. I laugh all the time. I'm going to have to do some serious reading or something to avoid laughter. What a problem to have! And what a complication to life - not only do I have to be silent but I cannot laugh - for 8 days!!! I could play Simon and Garfunkle, but I would want to sing along. I don't think I can play any music I have and not want to sing along. No Comedy Central for 8 days?!?!? I'll have to watch the Health channel and worry about all the terrible things that happen to people. Maybe that way, I'll just count myself lucky! Hello darkness, my old friend...

8 days to hermitage

The countdown has started and I am getting nervous. I was not the least bit nervous about bone spur removal nor prostate removal. But I am very upset about an operation on my vocal chords. I have no idea how I am going to weather the days until the big day. Work is driving me mad. If I could just lose myself in work, it would help greatly. But alas, work is stressful too. I am trying to think about my impending hermitage - 8 days post-surgery of silence and hiding from the world. I think it would be a hoot just for the sake of old times and remembrances of percoset with dental problems to paint my door during my forced confinement. I would like to paint it the right color, but I cannot decide what the right color is. My house is neo-colonial brick with white trim. Most of the doors in the neighborhood are white. The second most popular is a natural wood tone. The orignal door is stylistically the most authentic, unlike so many that have been replaced with Victorian and other abominations. I would like my door to be different. White seems most correct, but I want color. There are a couple of federal blue doors sprinkled through the neighborhood. Also, I have a unique storm door - black iron in a square pattern - called Maryland - quite colonial. My roofing is green and I am thinking that a grey green to match the roofing might be acceptable, especially with my front yard jungle. I don't know if I can spend enough time worrying about the door color to stave off worrying about being able to sing in another month. Everyone is so concerned about how I will remain silent for 8 days post surgery. I don't see that as much of a problem. I don't see the entire recuperation as much of a problem. But the actual deed scares me. I planned one thing correctly. I sing next Sunday with Sarah and Rebecca - three anthems of early music, the latest of which is Handel. Counldn't ask for anything better. Three pieces that have never been performed at Christ Church before that we know of. This will make my final appearance before surgery memorable. I really wanted that! I suppose I should look forward to getting my real singing voice back. It is difficuly to do that when one of the possibilities is to lose it entirely. But this is why I have one of the foremost surgeons to fix this problem. He is a singer. This means he will surely be as carefulas he can be. He is also a morning person. Any surgeon who wants to begin early in the morning has got to be top drawer! Meanwhile, I have to spend much time thinking about a door color in order to avoid thinking about vocal chord surgery..

Happy birthday USA

Today, while driving home from church I heard a wonderful sentiment about July 4. It went something like, "You have got to love a country where its founding is not celebrated with displays of military might, but with parades and peaceful public gatherings and picnics where the biggest worry is whether or not the potato salad sat out too long." I cleaned up the last of the leftovers from Mama's visit a week ago - barbecued pork and beans done in the crock pot. There is no better way to do beans than in the crock pot. Even if you don't particularly like beans, then you haven't tried doing them in the crock pot!. And who said soup is not a summer dish? I made my diabetic version of Italian wedding soup to boost my iron for my blood re-test tomorrow. Beans are also a good source of iron. Anyway, I agree with what I heard. I think the best way to enjoy time with anyone is with food. My body would attest to that! I enjoy my food too much. I am still having fun experimenting with foods, using cookbook recipes for diabetics. After three years, I am amazed at what I can do with precious few ingredients. And the most important thing for me to do is to keep carrots, onions and celery in the house. Beyond that, grocery shopping is a breeze. Holidays and birthdays were meant for good food. Actually, I think every day we have on this earth is meant for good food. We just have to be careful to make wise choices. And this is birthday #233 for the USA! Gosh, wasn't the bicentennial just a few years ago? Incredible, I might live to see a sesquicentennial? I hope I know what it is if I live to see it!!!

Depression lessons learned

Ah, a holiday week-end MUSt mean household chores. AND I have leftovers from Mama's visit on Sunday. I have become the vegetable man for family gatherings. Broccoli salad was requested for Mom's visit, among other things. I don't usually do broccoli salad for myself as it contains bacon, but for the family, I bend my own dietary guidelines. The problem with broccoli salad is that you cut off the florets from the top of the broccoli stalks and then you have to fry bacon which gives you leftover fat. I cannot throw these things away because I know they can be re-used, broccoli stalks for broccoli soup and bacon fat has many uses. But today, for the first time I used them both to make the same soup. I made a roux with the bacon fat to support cream of broccoli soup. I cut the broccoli stalks for the same purpose. Ever had cream of broccoli with a bacon taste? It's quite acceptable. AND it does not bother the diabetic diet because the fat gets diluted and I use fat free soy and rice milk to enhance the creaminess. The soup is chunkier and thinner than the typical favorite, but it tates good and it fits the diet, which makes it fit a holiday week-end. The only thing is I have to beef up my iron over the week-end because my intermittent anemia showed up for my pre-op exam. I got cherries and blackberries to help that along. I'll throw in some apricots too that I'll pick off my trees. They are ripening just in time! However, I couldn't help but remember the grandparents as I used up foot items I could not let myself throw away!

Celebrity mania

Can we PLEASE bury Michael Jackson and be done with it? Achmadinejad must be very happy that Michael Jackson has taken attention away from what he is doing in Iran. We Americans are sure fickle creatures. Can someone put Al Sharpton away, while we're at it? What a megalomaniac! He has to be seen whenever an African American gets a headline. I wonder who pays for all his plane fares. Remember Anna Nicole Smith. I didn't even know who she was when her death took over the news media. And speaking of maniacs, have you heard about my Napoleonic assistant secretary who now has three female deputies surrounding him? A definite case of small man syndrome! You girls know what that is! But, I don't want to see or hear anything else about Michael Jackson. And Daddy probably should be put into stocks on Hollywood Boulevard so people can throw rotten produce at him. I am simply not amused! Bury the man and be done with ALL of it, please! And get those children into a "normal" school. By the way, how many lawyers does it take to rip off whatever they can get? Now that would be really disgusting to follow! I'll take ONE lawyer's fee and live confortably for the rest of my days. Yes, That's what I want to know - how many lawyers and every penny of every fee that each one of them collects!

Politics ain't pretty

With no effort on my part, I have seen more of the truth about politics than I would ever care to see. If the public knew the stuff I see, they would be outraged. The more I see, the more I understand it is about controlling the money and making sure your associates can take care of themselves and make you look good in the process. Government is slow to change, not because of unwieldy bureacracy, but because those who have the ability to make change don't stay around long enough to make necessary changes. Those who know how are in a holding pattern by those who temporarily hold the power, and those who hold the power are about self-aggrandizement, so they can move on to a better appointment. It's all about improving the resume. The number of persons that I know who have jobs in name only continues to grow and I am consistently amazed. I am at a place in the state personnel system where the only way I can get a promotion is to take a job that serves at the pleasure of the governor. While more money is always a nice thing, I don't want to be subject to the whims of politicos. The truth is, however, even at my station, if the politicos want to get rid of you, it can be done; it's just a little bit more difficult than if one serves at the pleasure of the governor. This is the big disadvantage of working for the government. Every time there is an election or other movement of polticos, one never knows how it will all settle, and by the time it does settle, there is a new election. No wonder government is so slow to accomplish anything. And when federal money is involved, the pace is lethargic! It's simply amazing!

The firey-footed steeds gallop apace

Remember Juliet? The fiery footed steeds continue to gallop apace much too quickly. Father Time is always more fleet than I. Hie me to Phillie. Hie me to Lancaster. Hie me to mighty Hopkins. Rest a while with the acupuncturist. Back to work. Off to Salisbury one day. Off to Elkton the next. You mean I'm getting paid for all this? Are they paying me enough? NOT! And let's not talk about the co-pays, tolls, and parking fees. But there is divine justice. Enter -Summons for jury duty on July 30. Oh, golly gee-willikers. Sorry. No can do. Required medical confinement post surgery two days prior to appointed day. Yes there is documentation. Can you lose me this time? and never crowd my mailbox again? I will NEVER sit on a jury in Baltimore City circuit court! I'm prejudiced against the defendant because if he/she got that far in Baltimore City it is a guarantee of guilt. I'm prejudiced against anyone who works for the City state's attorney's office because I think she is a moron and I wouldn't trust anyone associated with her. I'm prejudiced in favor of cops because I believe if they dragged you in, they know what they are talking about. I cannot be impartial, most especially in Baltimore City. And there is evening and morning, yet another day! Can someone put the brakes on those damn steeds?

History repeats itself

The Atlantic magazine reminded me this month that I am now old enough to have a historical perspective that younger people lack. There is an article about how the US tried to go green 30 years ago with the encouragement of President Jimmy Carter. That all went to hell in a hand basket with the election of Ronald Reagan. How well I remember the problems of the Carter years with high inflation and then the benign neglact of the Reagan years where he just kept smiling and saying everything is OK while the rich got richer and the ordinary people struggled to survive. And here we are again, though a bit in reverse. We just had years of neglect for ordinary people while the rich got richer at unprecedented rates and now the new administration wants the country to go green. I am amazed that my 16 year old Honda still gets 32 miles per gallon when it used to get 36 on the highway and they are trying to advertise new cars that get 23 miles per gallon as a new model of efficiency. My next car will need to get about 50 miles per gallon, or I'm not interested! I know that what will kill the Obama administration is the enormous debt that it is piling up on bail-outs and the old republican saw inveighing against tax and spend liberals. I don't like to think how the poltical pendulum will swing and bring about another rise of conservatism. I don't want to face it in old age - especially as I arrive at the portals of Social Security and Medicare! And I'll indeed be blessed to go back to my North Carolina farmer roots and just work until I can't work any more all the time remembering my grandmother telling my father, "I just can't do like I used to." Creeping decrepitude is already making those words more familiar than I might wish. And the promise of a green economy leads the way to the future, for now. Yes, I've seen this one before.

Victory over Verizon

I knew it would come. When I got home there was a bill from Verizon for the last of my service with them. Naturally, I called immediately to complain. It took 58 minutes - my new phone tells you how long you have been on a call since all calls now are timed to fit into my " minutes" plan. I got transferred 5 times. Finally, after complaining that they did not even have the history of my calls for service correct, they agreed to drop all charges. They went down to defeat still clinging to the erroneous claim that I had a malfunction at my junction box - after I have repeatedly explained that there is no junction box. They would not accept that the problem was outside based on the experience of worsening conditions influenced by wind and rain. I've had no wind or rain inside my house that I can remember. SO according to their records, my first call for srvice was April 10 - it was actually March 25 or 27, I'm not sure which. But anyway, since I've had no reliable service since April 10 according to their records, by crediting me for non-service the bill was wiped out. Good thing, because I swore they would not get another dime from me! I also reminded them that thye have lost me as a customer actually twice - once for internet service and once for phone service - both times because they refused to repair the service and tried to blame their lack of repair on something wrong with my equipment. When Comcast hooked me up for internet, magically my computer worked just fine - but Verizon tried to blame it on my computer. To add to the malaise, Dad told me he had talked to a woman at church who works for Verizon who told him that complaints about static on the line are received daily. Still, apparently Verizon believes its only future is in FIOS. Obviously, they have no interest in maintaining telephone service outside their FIOS package. A woman I work with had experience very similar to mine and decided to go to FIOS, just so she could have service. I told Verizon that I am going to be a recurring bad dream for them because I will advertise their lack of service broadly.

Keep the change

For many years now I've had apothecary jars that I throw change into and when they are full I empty them and roll the coins and make a deposit at the bank. It's one of the few reasons I ever set foot into the bank. Today I rolled my coins and behold, I had exactly $175. No chump change, for sure. But these days with doctors taking $25 copays three times in one week and $100 charges for not-covered services, it seems hardly worth the effort. What a disgusting propoasition for medical necessities to take the joy out of little pleasures like an occasional windfall of change! It makes me determined that I am going to get a medical deduction on my taxes this year. I never make the threshhold no matter how what expenses I've had in the past. I need retribution! I can't believe this current situation won't add up, especially given three pay cuts in one year and a fourth pending. However,surely it is a sign of age when a windfall of change deosn't provide its customary delight. There is a bit of twisted fiendish delight that the bank teller has to count all the rolls when I deposit them. I like when the bank has to exert a little effort because the interest they pay on my money is insulting. Interest bearing account is an oxymoron. I just wish I could save change faster.

Phone limbo

There's just a few more hours. That's all the time they've got! A few more hours - that's Verizon. Once again I lost the dial tone a few days ago. Apparently it came back, but I'm not sure when. People have been calling me and all the phone does is ring and ring and ring. I've tried calling my number with the state cell phone several times a day, and again, all it does is ring and ring and ring. It doesn't ring here. The other day, the phone rang in the basement, but not in the bedroom. I ran to the basement to try to catch the call, but didn't make it. I wanted to see if by some miracle I could have a conversation. Not to be. Tomorrow my new cell phone is supposed to work. I am going to a picnic, and I'll take it with me just out of curiosity. I don't know who would be calling me on a holiday, but curiosity trunps everything. I will be glad to bid Verizon adieu. Then I want to see what happens when I call to complain about the bill for two months of non-service. It should be interesting. Surely more interesting than doctor's appointments!

Transferring phone systems

The Verizon saga gets curiouser and curiouser. It seems there are multiple people around my circle of acquaintances that have been having Verizon troubles. Apprently, Verizon now believes it can only make money from its FIOS bundle. It WANTS to lose customers with land lines as these are not profitable. They no longer have their own technicians, but contract the work because it does not pay them to keep technicians on payroll. If you have trouble with a land line, you wait weeks for service and the service never occurs. If you sign up for FIOS, they can take care of you in a matter of days. Tonight, there is no dial tone on my Verizon land line. At this point I have no way to know why that is so. The new wireless phone is not yet receiving calls, so the transfer is not yet complete. I can make calls on the new wirelss, but I cannot yet receive them. I was able to set up voicemail this evening. But if you call my number right now, it just rings and rings and rings. I am anxious for this all to be history. I would like to know that I have reliable phone service. Come on, Monday! Oh, did you notice my brain fart? What is the difference between chord and cord? Musical knowledge crowding out other knowledge?

Cut the chord

Verizon has done me in. It is as simple as that. On Monday, May 25, I will join the wireless generation, move in to the 21st century because my home phone will be wireless. No more wires to worry about. I do not have to change my number, so you will call the same number you have called for years. The best news is that I get a 15% discount because I am a state employee and went with AT&T. That means my bill will basically just a bit higher than what I was paying Verizon. I now have two useless cordless phones and two useless chorded phones in good working order, if anyone is in need of a phone for a land line. I have to figure out what to do to hide the wall jack in the kitchen. I am NOT going to carry my home phone with me most of the time because I have a cell phone for work that the state provides. However, I got GPS- (global positioning system), so if I have to go somewhere and don't know where I am going, I can take the phone and let it guide me. And I have to load up the phone with all my contacts. Then there will be no paper phone book nor appointment calendar. I am wondering how long it will take me to input all the people and numbers I might want to call. I have free night and week-ends which means I will probably make phone calls after 9 p.m. as often as possible during the week, or on the week-end. Reserve the daytime minutes for incoming calls. BUT, they are rollover minutes, so I can save them also. The sales person says it will not be long before I start carrying two phones with me all the time. I hope not. I hope there is new freedom and respite from aggravation in having cut the chord!

Spray paint premier

I don't ever remember using spray paint in my life. Well, my Victorian-style iron bistro set that sits on my kitchen balcony and is powder coated to look like a verdigris finish was showing signs of rust - even though it was never supposed to rust! So how does one cover up the rust and NOT change the finish noticeably? Spray paint - specifically hammered metallic gray/green and black - Rustoleum, of course! A few shots at the rusting spots and voila! - you have to look closely to see that something has been done to the finish. I even did nearly all of the table top and it looks like nothing has been done. So, while checking the spray paint aisle at my favorite Home Deopt, I also spied spray on finish for frosted glass!. Yes, I've seen this on HGTV! I can get rid of the stupid cafe curtain on the back basement door!. Another can of spray paint and another chore discarded from my life! Never again will I take down curtains, wash them and return them to the basement door. Of course, one chore leads to another and I notice the door itself actually could use a coat of paint. Probably one day during my impending hermit days when I cannot speak. It's nice not to write about doctor's appointments.

Acupuncture magic

Today was my second acupuncture treatment. It was magic! After everything was in place, I relaxed and felt as if I was floating. The therapist explained that it was seratonin release in response to the acupuncture that gives the body its feeling of well-being. I could have remained there all afternoon, but alas, treatments are time limited. Now if it rids my arm of pain and tingling, I will indeed be a convert. I have homework to do again - a questionnaire. I think I could grow accustomed to this. Isn't the point of Harry Potter that magic used for good can indeed be a good thing?

Julie Andrews Day?

Today I had my second appointment in Philadelphia about my voice. Really bad news: I have to have my granuloma surgically removed from my vocal chords. When the doc told me this, I went into apoplectic fear. I thought he had just announced my own Julie Andrews day. While nothing surgical is ever guaranteed, again, as with my prostate, my doc is a foremost expert in the world. He is world-famous for vocal surgery, and has done this particular thing many times. Still, I just broke down in the car coming home, after I made the appointment for the surgery. I can't believe it has come to this. I have to do a baseline analysis with his vocal team of a speech pathologist and a vocal pathologist so they can outline my recovery. I will have to remain silent for an entire week after surgery, but can expect that recovery after that will be rather quick over 4 -6 weeks. This is totally incredible to me. He says that after his vocal team does their thing, I can continue with MY team being my vocal coach in Lancaster who helped me for recover for 2 years following the intubation/bruising incident, and the speech pathologist at Hopkins who referred me to Philadelphia. I know I will dread this worse than either of my previous surgeries!!! Tomorrow is acupuncture. I will really be happy when there is more to write about in this blog than medical stuff. I have lots of profound thoughts, and even some amusing thoughts at times. It's just that this medical stuff keeps overwheling me!

Colonoscopy Chapter 2

What a way to begin a week - a colonoscopy - my second in my 21000+ days. That means do the prep on Sunday evening. What a way to end the Lord's day! What an excuse to catch up on sleep, after the fact! I took three naps of about an hour each throughout the day. No wonder they won't let you do anything for the day following the procedure. However, in my case, one has to wonder how much is anesthesia and how much is the nagging lack of sleep from the pinched nerve/arm pain. But, my goodness, I really could not have done much of anything today, if I wanted to. The urge to sleep was so strong and my body was telling me not to challenge the urges. The colonoscopy went well with nothing to worry about in that department. Now on to the continuing voice problem and the pinched nerve. And I have to figure out how to get Verizon to fix my phone line. That may be more difficult than any of the health issues. What is American business coming to?

Tintillating tomatoes

The beginning of May means time to pot up some tomatoes for summer. Everyone knows there is nothing like a fresh tomato off the vine. So, this morning I bee-lined early to Valley View Farms to gather up my annual allotment of tomato plants. My experience has taught me that beefsteak types of tomatoes and its cousins don't seem to grow well in pots. Also, some heirlooms have produced mixed success for me. Of course, I never know how much success is due to my travel and watering schedules and the interplay of that with the weather. It is always interesting to see the array of varieties that Valley View offers. The consistent price rise is aggravating. When I started buying my plants at Valley View they were $1 each. They're now $1.49 - 50% in ten years or so. I decided that buying plants for a dolloar was better than starting my own because I could have more variety. I really like the taste of yellow and orange tomatoes. But, it doesn't matter what color they are. When they are grown in the back yard, they are the best. I decided this year to plant more cherry tomatoes as I generally eat more of those than I do regular tomatoes. They're easy to go for lunch. Last year by August, my tomatoes were finished. This year we'll see what a dozen tomato plants contirbutes to life. Well, they're pretty, even if they don't produce like I might like. And I always like whatever I get for the effort!

The Lusty Month of May

For me, it is not National Workers Day nor National Law Day, just the first day of that lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray! So what did I do? Sit home and wait for Verizon. And they NEVER showed! Who me, pissed? Why? Of coure, when one is home bound, there are just too many things that need to be done that you need to be somewhere else. What a week it has been - three doctor's appointments and the 12 hour wait for Verizon who never shows. Do I still have a job? Yes, I really do. And my schedule just keeps filling up 6 weeks ahead. It kept raining off and on all day and the weather says it is supposed to do that for the next week. Rainy weather and waiting for Verizon can surely put a damper on lust. So what am I to do? Well, change the sheets and the shower curtain and bathroom rug, for starters. There are always chores. I always have something piled up. I cleaned out the linen closet. I have enough light bulbs to last until my demise. I guess I got a little overexuberant about energy-saving light bulbs. I put light bulbs in the linen closet because the hall light is the one that I can't do without. It is interesting the things that got shoved under the sheets and towels that have not been used in years. I keep getting better at getting rid of things now too. But now, I have to fight with Verizon AGAIN! I got rid of them because of their poor service with DSL, even though it was cheaper than Comcast. One would think they would learn. Well, maybe by the end of the lusty month of May!

Accounting for acupuncture

I had my first meeting with my acupuncturist today. She is Chinese and a liccensed physician's assistant. No needles today, but wonderful massaage. She says my neck and shoulders are tight. People who are trained in massage have said that about me for years and I never paid it any mind. There are different types of acupuncture. She did extra study of Japanese techniques, so she has an above average arsenal. Who knew you had to know all these things to find an acupuncturist? She also gave me diet advice about foods that aggravate inflammation and foods that help. This is no problem because many of the foods are in my regular diet anyway. It will be interesting to see if following her diet suggestions strictly will assist the problem. She did an exam and showed me where she found cold spots on my body. She says these represent a lack of energy that is out of balance with other places in the body and causes pain. The cold spots help determine where needles go next itme. She also explained that western medical doctors have discovered a correlation between nerve endings and acupuncture spots, which is why the procedure works to alleviate pain especially. This is encouraging! And to top it all off, the acupunturist is a pianist. She has the same brand of baby grand piano I do, and like me plays classics for herself. She says I need to drink less green tea and more water. The bad part is I have to do weekly treatments. Just what I need = something else to schedule every week. And she is only in my preferred location on Wednesday and Thursday. Another thing I need - fewer choices in scheduling. I think I am going to enjoy this adventure in aging. Well, it's soething new and different, definitely!!!

Magic Miralax

Hallelujah. It has been 9 years since my first colonoscopy. My doctor says the recommended protocol says to repeat every 7 or 8 years. Therefore, I am overdue. So Monday is colonoscopy #2. And indeed there have been advances in medicine. First, mighty Hopkins sends me five pages of information by e-mail. One of these contains directions for prerparations. Last time I had to drink a gallon of gelatinous liquid that I had to struggle to finish. This time, I am to buy 32 oz of Miralax over the counter and a 32 oz bottle of my favorite Gatorade. This is problematic right off the bat because I don't have a favorite Gatorade. Also, diet Garoade choices are much more limited than regular. I am supposed to mix the Miralax into a clear liquid - a sport drink that supports electrolytes. I drink green tea, which does not qualify as a sport drink that supports electrolytes. I don't know what the array of sport drinks on the grocery store shelves achieve and I certainly have no idea how they taste. There is an additional problem that my diet on Sunday must be all liquid. I can only have clear liquids, nothing creamy or containing fruit or vegetable pulp. Isn't it ironic that after spending the last three years learning how to eat high fiber, I now have to avoid ALL fiber. I buy some of my favorite juices - bluberry pomegranate, cran-rasberry - and I spy a newcomer: cranberry mango - all diet versions - all clear - supposedly all natural without added sugar. Next read the labels on sport drinks to rule out the ones with sugar or corn syrup. I have no idea which flavor is going to be palatable. BUT the biggest problem? I am supposed to pour the 32 oz bottle of Miralax powder into a 32 oz. bottle of Gatorade. I have no idea how this will work. I can't imagine that it will. What happens if I get the mixture wrong? The doctor complained that my colon was not properly prepared the last time. I have a feeling there will be a repeat performace! Doesn't 32 oz & 32 oz make 64 oz? Must be some magic stuff if you can pour 32 oz into 32 oz and still have 32 oz, NO? Oh, and my grumpiness kicked in at the check-out counter. gatorade $1, Miralax $12 - no wonder mighty Hopkins doesn't give you a prescription any more. They want to help the drug company get their "fair share!" Talk about a crock! If I got a prescription it would only cost me $5. But NOooooo. Mighty Hopkins needs to support their drug company buddies who support their research! What a racket!!!

Nothing's ever solved in foul ,fetid, fuming, foggy, filthy...

PHiladelphia. I went to have a neorological exam of my nerves that control my vocal chords. My right laryngeal nerve that controls the right vocal fold where the granuloma is is only working at 70%. This could be temporary or it could be permanent, difficult to tell. However, the vocal folds are working at 100%. This is why I can still sing somewhat. I go a week from today for yet another evalutation, putting together blood work, MRI & nuerological finding. Then, The doc will prescribe the next step. The trip today took nearly three hours. I gave myself extra time because I know they've been working on roads. There were three back-ups.
Cities fascinate me. Philadelphia has many more narrow streets than Baltimore. Nearly all the streets in downtown Phillie have parking on one side and one lane of traffic and traffic almost always goes one way. I wonder about the ratio of one way streets in that city. I think Phillie has also done a marvelous job of preserving its historic buildings. But one has to wonder what would happen if events were held at their 4 neighboring sports arenas/2 of which are stadiums at one time. Good planning? The temperatue was so high today that it reminded me of the Continental Congress meeting in 1776 and complaining of the heat and the stench. I complain about traffic and parking.

Dad's 80th

With all my health trials, I think Dad's 80th may have felt more fatalistic than I might have otherwise liked. I remember my grandparents turning 80. I think there was indeed a realization of advancing age, but not so much awareness of inescapable mortality. We had lots of southern style food - just like home- Dad's home - North Carolina. The siblings have long abandoned the country ways of feasting, but collectively, we re-created a southern style family gathering with all the foods of bygone days - salad, beef, french fries, cucumber & onions, squash, pinto beans, corn bread, banana pudding and pecan pie - and we topped it off with a store-bought cake. I asked Dad what his favorite part of the feast was - meaning the food - and he responded that he was happy to have his family together. Suddenly I realized that of course, that would be what he would want the most. He did say several times that he did not expect to make it to 80. I suspect the reason he always tells the doctors that he is OK when he is not, is that he figures his time is up or close to it, so why bother. I have not inherited THAT gene. I tell the doctors everything and complain. This week I have 3 medical appointments. I wonder if I will make to 80. I expect it will be no problem, but I just might be wrong about that! I expect I won't be as resigned as Dad seems to be. But who knows what surprises await me in the coming years? Only the man upstairs...

Ungraceful Aging

I am going through a period of seeing doctors and having medical procedures at least once a week. Good grief, Charlie Brown! NO wonder old people (including me) talk about medical stuff all the time. It's all so amazing. I went back to the doc about my arm/ pinched nerve. She upped prescription dosage - just what I wanted. I asked why she needed to see me again because she knows what the problem is. She told me I have arthritis in my neck - discovery from the MRI. I have it in my big toe, but I don't feel it in either place. But my arm hurts, throbs, tingles. It's been this way for over a month and I'm just tired of it. She wants me to see a neuro-surgeon to rule out surgery for my pinched nerve. She says I might also try accupuncture. More medical procedures! I worked in the garden - one handed - as best I could. I needed an extra dose of pain med after that! I played the piano to try to lose my tribulations. Gardening and music soothe. I think of many things to write about when I can't write. Can't remember what those good ideas are when I am writing.
oh, the picture is the Ristorante Parilla de San Miguel in Eagle Pass, Texas just yards from the Mexican Border. I just didn't posts it before. Texas was sure more colorful than seeing doctors!

A more colorful day

Sold down the river

In spite of my written protests to my state representatives, the governor and the legislature sold us (state employees) down the river to the unions. I find it so ironic being the son and grandson of union men that I am utterly opposed to unions. But the unions for state workers have no real collective bargaining power. It's all posturing. The governor draws up the budget and submits it to the legislature. Decisions about state workers' pay and benefits are made before the unions have a chance to negotiate anything. But now, actually beginning July 1, we will have union dues taken from our pay whether or not we join the union. So we are subjected to yet another effective salary decrease. I will guarantee right now that union dues will now go up as fast as the union can make it happen and the governor and democratic legislators will get record campaign contributions from the unions in the next election cycle, which is why they passed the legislation.

25,000 mornings plus or minus

Do you think state of Michigan paid real money for the commercial that blithely announces that we have only 25,000 mornings plus or minus? Am I sensitive because my life counter, which I put on my blog because I thought it was funny, shows that I am well on my way to hitting those 25,000 mornings? Dad will be 80 in a few days. I don't think he's aging gracefully. I just think he's aging and not liking it. I am feeling that I am very much my father's son. The pinched neerve is making my mood funky only because I'm tired of it and I don't like being reminded of it constantly, and it is inhibiting progress on everything because I can't do anything that takes the least bit of exertion using my left arm or there is pain that I cannot ignore. I can be patient as long as I know there is progress. My doc doesn't return until Wednesday and I am traveling all week, so I don't have time to deal with whatever is next. Uber-meds haven't worked any miracles in 5 days. I want days to be purposeful, not waiting for prescription plans to process paperwork or body parts to act the way they should. Who me? Ani-aging? I'll just think about it tomorrow and the day after that and...

Dies Irae

7 a.m. must mean MRI time - 2nd MRI in a week - this one for Phillie doc. 1 hour and 10 minutes - better thatn the 90 minutes quoted last week! I feel I should be paid for keeping these hours. Ah, but Mighty Hopkins gives me a thank you card for using their services. No one says anything about their inconvenient scheduling. Regular Good Friday Service from noon to 3 p.m. Run by two pharmacies before church - long story. They owe me. Neither has what they owe me. One pharmacy for pharmaceuticals; another pharmacy for diabetic testing supplies. And I have the best (most expensive) state insurance there is. I pay to avoid inconvenience like this! I don't need to be wasting time on a day like today - or for that matter any day. A three hour service is a lot of singing, but I get through it. On the way home, swing by the pharmacies again. Still no success. What else can I do I ask Giant? I have made phone calls. The docs' offices tell me they have completed the required paperwork. "Call your insurance company," is the answer. I get home and the phone is not working. I cannot get a dial tone. This is exactly what I need! I call my own number using the cell. Nothing. I call Verizon. NO service until next Saturday. This is unacceptable. Why did they ever break up Ma Bell? This would have been fixed in a few hours. I call the insurance company. Oh, yes, they have received the paperwork; they simply haven't gotten around to processing it. I am not amused. It is supposed to rain but the sun is shining. Should I waste more time and water the gardens? I have tender new plantings that need optimal care. The evening is advancing soon it will be dark. I can retire early and on Saturday just pretend none of this has happened. Except I have to go to two pharmacies again. Why? Tomorrow is day 5 of my 6 day pill cycle for my pinched nerve. My left arm still tingles and ocasionally pulses with pain. Sleep will present a new day. Today has had its share of aggravation!

Becoming a Junkie

Follow up on the pinched nerve. My regular doc is on vacation. My MRI is ready to be read and my arm is still bothering me. The doc covering for my doc tells me that indeed I do have a pinched nerve and we will have to wait and see what my doc wants to do. BUT what do I do in the interim? I have another MRI on Friday that is supposed to take an hour and a half. Based on my experience from Saturday, I don't think I'll make it. So we'll try methylprednisolone. You start by taking 6 pills and then for 6 days following you decrease to 1 pill. Oh joy ! That means I am taking 16prescribed pills today. I am concerned about drug interactions. Not to worry says the covering doc. The only side effect of the big M might be insomnia. Oh joy, again! This is just what I need for Holy Week - not to sleep! And it is a steroid, so I'll have to watch my blood sugar. There is just too much joy in popping pills today!

Early to rise on Saturday?

Everyone knows I jealously guard my ability to sleep late on Saturday because it is the only day I can choose to do it. These days it's usually to catch up on sleep I've lost during the week for one reason or another. I've been having a pain in my arm and shoulder. I saw my doc before going to San Antonio and she thinks I have a pinched nerve in my neck and ordered an MRI. Yesterday, I had to call the doc's office because the MRI was supposed to have been scheduled. I thought when I came home I would have an apointment notice, which I did not have. SO, what does mighty Hopkins want to do? Can I do it at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday? A moral dilemma. It is against the rules to have to get up for anything on Saturday. This will ruin my week-end. Ah, but the voice doctor also wants an MRI. I can kill two birds with one stone! I dutifully drag my butt out of the bed at 6 so I can be at mighty Hopkins at 7. As I am traversing the halls I have to dodge the night nurses who are leaving their shifts. MRI's are done in the bowels of one of the Hopkins buildings. (BTW - they are opening two huge buildings in a year or two. The complex will become even more complex!) I arrive at the designated area. The receptionist is conversing on the phone, obviously displeased that she has to attend to a patient. If only she knew how unamused I am at having to be ther at 7 a.m.! She checks me in and goes back to her conversation. Another person comes to the desk and there is some conversation about the receptionist not knowing how to do something. The second person offers to do it for her. The second woman sits at the computeer for a few mintues and does something. I interrupt. I ask, "I have an order from another doctor for another MRI. Can we just combine things and get it all done at once?" The Phillie voice doc ordered an MRI and I have the paper order to thrust into the faces of these atetndants. "That will take several hours and we don't have several hours," exclaims the second woman incredulously and a bit annoyed. It seems no one's humor is positive this morning. "Why," I ask arent they all about the same thing, my neck?" "Oh no" presses woman #2 becoming further annoyed. This doctor wants a cranial work up with dye and that will take 45 minutes alone without the other work. You'll have to call and make another appointment." I'll try my luck one more time. "Wouldn't it be better for everyone, you, me, and the doctor if I just got it all done at one time?" "We have other patients who are already scheduled and we can't get backed up. You'll have to make an appointment on Monday" I know it is useless to try to fight mighty Hopkins. It is so big that trying to buck their procedures is out of the question no matter who might benefit. One fact not yet explained here is that I stopped in yesterday on my way to work for blood work for the Phillie doc. They took 11 test tubes of blood. So now I need yet another appointment at mighty Hopkins. AND I still haven't made the 2nd appointment for another procedure in Phillie. I called yesterday and left a message and they did not return my call. Back to Hopkins... "Oh, thank you," so much, says the receptionist. And sure enough, doesn't she go back to her personal chatter. I'm sure she doesn't know how to do whtever the second woman did because she is too busy chatting on the phone. Then I am taken for my MRI. I have to lay still for 38 minutes. It is torture because my arm and shoulder hurt from the pinched nerve. When it is over the technician has to help me stand because my arm has gone numb and I cannot feel to push myself up. Once I am standing, I'm OK and I come home. I need to do some gardening and regular houshold chores, but I have trouble due to the pain in my arm. That is, I have trouble doing things other than touring.LOL

Wednesday's child is full of woe

I forgot to explain that one of the reasons for going to the north hill country above San Antonio was because there were several towns founded by German settlers. Who knew that Germans settled in Texas? AH, but remember in the early 1800's Germans were the main immigrant group, so much so that the US almost became a German-speaking nation.
Wedensday was my last full day in San Antonio and there was no lunch-time break to be had among the very full agenda. The only option was dinner. So I chose to go southwest to Eagle Pass which is a small border town. I wanted to see it because many farm workers come from Eagle Pass, and I had heard it was a rather poor town. Well, it is a rather poor town. They have Walmart and Lowe's which appear to be the newest items in town. The only buildings that come close are the Social Security office, the Social Service office, and the Employment/Unemployment office. I couldn't even find a town hall. I found a wonderful restaurant called Parilla de San Miguel. It was built at a site that was believed ot be an old mission and uses some architectural details that would be typical of the Spanish influence. It was moderately priced and the food was good. I imagined the locals thought of it as quite a treat.
The border crossing there is unassuming and appears to be quite downplayed. There is only one road that goes into and out of town. And MOST interesting, about 5 miles out of town, there is a border patrol checkpoint that only stops you when you LEAVE Eagle Pass, not when you are going TO the town. The dogs sniff around while the officer asks the usual questions about why you came to Eagle Pass and what you did while you were there. I ate dinner. THE END. On Thursday, I returned to the big northeastern city - in time for choir practice - thank you very much! Nothing like a quick return to reality!
BTW - this year's conference was especially unproductive. Everyone in government is awaiting some new "intiatives" from the new presidential administration - if they can ever do something besides print more money for banks!
do re mi fa sol la ti do sol do

Lavender Leisure

Tuesday of my conference gave me another break surrounding lunch, so I headed to the north hill country as the locals call it because -believe it or not - just north of San Antonio are lavender farms that constitute the lavender center of the US. THey grow mostly French lavender for all the uses that one has for lavender. Who knew that Texas is the capital of the US lavender market? The lavender farms were actually not open to tourists - the season was too early just yet - but I made my return to work through a town called Groene - prounounced Green - which claims to have the least amount of modern development of any town in Texas. Most of the buildings are from the 19th century or earlier. I had lunch at the general store which has really becaome mostly a tourist shop. Groene also has what it claims is the oldest dance hall in continuous operation in the US. It is a bar by day and you can dance in the evenings with a juke box. There is an old grist mill that is a restaurant now, but the structure is well-preserved so you can see how it operated. And there was evening and morning the second day.

Mission Mission

AS I have been to San Antonio several times in the past, my mission for this trip was to visit the missions. I learned on the internet that there was a string of five missions running from south to north that culminated at the Alamo. I was determined to see the four missions I had not seen previously. I achieved my mission on the first day of the conference. There was a morning session whose speaker I had heard before and whose topic was not news - the perfect session to skip - followed by a lunch break. That gave me time to head south. I decided to hit the farthest mission first -a good move because the missions are in various states of disrepair - the farthest being the oldest and the least preserved or restored and the closest - the Alamo - being the best preserved. Each mission to the north became better preserved and more complete. I visited the four missions and got back to my conference just tastefully late for my afternoon session. My first mission ever was San Diego and ever since then, I've been smitten. So each time I go to the southwest, I look to head out to a mission. When I visited Los Angeles, I got to see San Juan Capistrano the day BEFORE the swallows returned. But there were beautiful flowers. There are always beautiful flowers - probably another reason I enjoy visiting the missions. They are always good places to pray. You know people have prayed at these places for hundreds of years. You can't help feel that they are indeed sacred spaces. Though you have to wonder why people would call a sacred space San Francisco de la Espada - Saint Francis of the Sword??? I know Saint Francis was a soldier before he became a famous monk and hermit. Who knows what those Spaniards were thinking in 1731? My thoughts were prayerful and awe inspired.

San Francisco de la Espada

The southernmost and oldest in the San Antonio mission chain

Considering Concepcion

hematoma granuloma vol 2

It was NINE months ago that the ENT DR at mighty Hopkins decided that I had a granuloma on the vocal chords and set on a course to address the issue. Over the summer and into the fall, very little changed except to learn that I had allergies that I never knew I had. Today I went to the Philadelphia Voice Institute after mighty Hopkins gave up trying to figure out what was wrong, and what to my wondering eyes was discovered? Well, the granuloma is back. These things sometimes go away and come back. Dr. almighty Hopkins was leaving to go somewhere else to practice and he couldn't decide after 5 look-sees down my throat, so he gave up. Well, apparently the reason he couldn't decide was because the granuloma disappeared and reappeared as they sometime do. Dr almighty Hopkins just couldn't be bothered to perservere on the case because he knew he was leaving. Now talk about being pissed!! So, on this lovely sunny day Dr. Beausoleil (I hope you read French) tells me I definitely have a granuloma and she says it requires aggressive treatment for acid reflux which is probably the root cause. I protested that I had been that route before at mighty Hopkins and it did not change anything much. She explained that I did not understand what aggressive means. So now I have prescription Nexium and another prescription AND she gave me a shot of somethign steroidal that is supposed to immediately shrink the granuloma. If this aggressive treatment does not do the trick the next thing is something to do with botox and after that then there could be surgery after which I could not sing for three months. I DON'T want to go there! Right now I am relieved to know that indeed it is something physical, but I am certainly angry at Hopkins!! AND as I write this, my throat is really sore from all the stuff that went down my throat and the extra numbing medicine I require because I have a gag reflex that beats the band! Unfortunately, I am well-experienced at numbing medicine and tubes going down my throat. Believe me, it never gets any better. But, AH, how soon will my song return?

Are we having fun yet?

This month has been just a blur starting out with a snow storm and a trip to Philadelphia and then working last week in Salisbury and next week I'm off to San Antonio. And yesterday I did the spring chores and wore myself out climbing up and down the ladder, running up and down stairs to keep the laundry going which forced me to go to the store today because I used up the last bit of bleach. It aggravates me to have to spend money on things like bleach that I so seldom use! Since I don't buy it regularly, I don't know what a good price is. It just keeps going up in price like everything else! I bet on Shoppers to keep the household expenses down because they usually beat evryone else in the price department. Oh, Friday is the foray to the Philadelphia Voice Institute to figure out why my voice is not reliable. THIS will be MOST interesting! My youngest brother follows in my footsteps tomorrow and has his prostate removed. Dang genes! What a mess to inherit! I have always said I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy! My introvert self needs some hibernation time! Alas, seems there is little on the horizon. I just need to try to assure that each day is as rich as it can be. Trouble is, I probably won't recognize it! This is why we do so many crazy things when we are young. Old age just can't handle it all!!

IT might as well be spring

Take down the curtains, la, la ,la
Put up the curtains, la, la, la
Clean up the windows, la, la, la
Hi-ho the homeowner's life!
So if the first day of spring has arrived it means it is time to do the seasonal changes. And we know how much I love household chores. And how many loads of laundry can YOU do in one day? Take down the curtains and wash them. Change the sheets AND the quilt and wash them. Pick up the scatter rugs and wash them. Change the direction on the ceiling fans and wipe the blades while they're stopped. And naturally there is the normal laundry. Keep going because if you stop you might feel tired and leave the chores for another day. As long as you keep moving life is good and things get accomplished. Surely no other season brings the expectation. So, why is spring different from the other seasons? Maybe it's the extra daylight that will show the neglect for more hours. La, la, la, Hi-ho!!

"Tis A Pity She's a Whore

One of my first memories of college and the surety that I was receiving a liberal education was having been assigned in English class to read the above titled play by John Ford, a "Restoration revenge play", as it is called. Last night I saw it at Center Stage. What a tangled web of relationships and what a gory mess!! I remembered it being comical, which it is in spots, as are most tragedies, but I didn't remember its complexity. It is said to parallel Romeo and Juliet, which may be the reason it was assigned, lo these many years ago. But what struck me is that our basest tastes do not change. Today we have soap operas with all kinds of messy situations and messy relationships. The theater of Carolinian Restoration England was every bit as messy. And just like our soap opera characters these days, we wonder how people can get themselves into such predicaments and manage to continue their lives as if they are normal, though sometimes, as in both types of drama, there are tragic consequences. And the theater has a penchant for presenting us with hyper characters and situations. The hyper nature is what makes it interesting, and simultaneously makes us glad to live our own lives on a more average keel.

Just a spoonful of sugar...

I am always struck about the joys of aging. Well, on Monday, I was struck with having to pick up three prescriptions at once... and I hadn't had surgery or a tooth removed or anything major. This is only maintenance! You know, as the engine gets older it needs more attention to keep it going so you don't notice the age. And have I complained about how difficult it is to find sugarless Robitussin? When I see it now, I buy all that is on the shelf. Another problem, it only comes in small bottles! Oh, and the blood sugar thing is the reason for one of the prescriptions. The nasal spray the allergist gave me turned out to be steroids which raise my blood sugar, so I had to have that changed. Also, when I picked up the prescription there was a new warning - you should have a medic alert bracelet. Why didn't anyone tell me that before? If steroids raise my blood sugar, of course I need a medic alert bracelet or necklace. Another expense and I still don't rack up enough to deduct anything from income taxes. I suppose I should rejoice. I've never picked up three prescriptions in my life. I guess this might occur more often. Oh joy! And jewelry for medical reasons. There is just too much joy these days!

Modernizing vs. remaining cheap

These two options are mutually exclusive. Due to aging grey cells I lost my paper address book with all my addresses and phone numbers. Due to aging plastic and technology, my antique pda which was really just a cheap electronic calendar and address book (and was a gift!) went kerplouie before I lost the paper address book. So now I have the option of getting a new electronic pda/cell phone/internet access or just using an old fashioned paper address book. The problem is, because of my aging grey cells, I need to carry my electronic calendar - actually, my combined electronic calendar from office and home, along with my address book and perhaps have e-mail access to home while I am out. The problem is, of course this costs more money than I ever wanted to spend. Furthermore, the problem is I just got a new cell phone at work, so I can't ask for a new cell phone with pda etc. I don't want to pay for a plan for my OWN cell phone. So I have a conundrum. What shall I do? Will I give in to the modernizing pressure or remain cheap while my salary is lowered in this dreadful economy. Stay tuned is all I can say.

Requiem for Brady

I saw it coming. I saw it when Brady first came to live next door. My neighbor, who is a strange fellow himself, had a German shepherd when I moved into my house. One hot August day, the dog died and the flies were terrible. I had to call my neighbor and tell him that his dog was dead on the concrete that was his back yard. I prayed that he would not get another dog. He only comes out once a day to give the dog fresh water, his once daily meal, and to scoop up the poop that has inevitably been sitting there for a very long time. In summer, I pray for rain to wash away the stench of excrements. But Brady, a new German shepherd pup came to live next door, and immediately all the neighbors came to pay attention to him, since he got so little from his owner. Toys and treats came from all around the neighborhood. Brady was a good watch dog. He was quiet except when intruders walked down the alley. He knew his neighbors and appreciated the attention lavished on him, even for just a brief few minutes. He often contentedly watched me work in the garden. He knew that after I took the trash to the alley we would have an up close and personal visit. But a life time of living on concret got to his hips, a curse of large dogs. He started to limp. He started to do his business too close to the house. I could see his deterioration would bring his demise. And now he is gone. The back yard seems more lifeless than the winter would normally have wrought. I just hope there is not another victim.

Dazed and Confused

It's been a while since the last post. I am glad to have finished the bedroom and I still have lots of little return-things-to-normal projects. And the snow drops are blooming and the daffodils are peekning through which means the gardens need attention. I travel to Philadelphia next week and San Antonio at the end of the month. At work, I am scheduling things into May. At church, I've done planning to June. I wonder why the republicans are objecting to everything that gets done now, using the same old rhetoric they've always used and not suggesting any new ideas for problems of historic proportions. And if the solutions that got us into the mess didn't work, how can they help get us out now. I think the president is telling it like it is, which is certainly refreshing from the last one who only spoke in spin. I don't think the new press secretary is up to the job- not smart enough to answer the tough questions. I don't like government getting involved in banks and car makers - especially with my money! The govnuh has ordered furloughs for state employees. I've already taken 12 hours and not lost a dime because our personnel people forgot they had to do an EXTRA report. I planned my furlough to space out my pay decrease (over and above the five month salary reduction which was tricked on us) and now the pay decrease is going to be even worse, because instead of being spread out, it is going to hit all at once...which makes it MY problem to figure out how to pay my bills. I just love government! I plan and the government does what it will. It makes one absolutely proud to be in its employ! No wonder I'm dazed and confused! No wonder I don't have any witty ideas to record on my blog. Someone needs to let me know when things start getting better. I'm not sure anyone will know other than the many who are currently unemployed. Yes, I AM happy to have a job. I just wish I could better undertand why I feel unusually dazed and confused these days in spite of regular accomplishments in my own little world. I can certainly rejoice that there is no surgery this year! (so far!)

KISS...

...otherwise known in the common parlance as "keep it simple stupid". I have always believed that this rule is just so good for everyone, even though, I have trouble living it, as most of us do, I think. I was driving home from work rather late for me and a new show came on NPR called "Stories". It was a premier and from what I heard, it is probably worth listening to always. Tonight was about a man who was making a fortune in Silicon Valley, lost his company and everything in the dot.com bust, then started to return to simplicity by living with his sister on a farm, helping to do the farm chores to grow and raise their food, taking minimum wage jobs, first as a zookeeper, then a series of others, and discovering that he was much happier than when he was pulling down 100's of thousands of dollars and had credit card debt that I can only imagine. At my age, it appears that some of the most important lessons I've learned in life are to love the Lord your God with your whole heart, etc., remember your family always comes first because they are most like you - they share your DNA, walk every day or some day you won't be able to do so, keep it simple.