Sphygmomanometer

Neighbor came over this evening, asking if we had a BP cuff to borrow. We did.

This is terribly funny, when you think about it. A cup of sugar? Stereotypical. Sphygmomanometer? Less so.

She'd developed eclampsia and delivered her baby early, so I sat her down, and she gathered herself and told us a little of what she'd been through the last week. I hugged her, and D got batteries in case.



Friend from Jr.High/High School sent me this just now.



My memory of this event is very hazy, although I recall both of us in our respective costumes.

Horror

Ah, Halloween, when horror takes over everywhere. Thing is, I never liked it. Horror, that is, not Halloween. I tended to really like Halloween, when the terror was formal and expected, the one night I did not have nightmares. Never really scared by monsters or body horror, even before my time in surgery doing pancreatic debridements*. Found it distasteful without any relish. Fake and ugly, screamy and loud is all. The startle factor, in a large crowd, can be entertaining, but that has more to do with suspense than with gore and red corn syrup.

Suspense is more my speed. The ordinary in unexpected contexts. The Last Wave haunted me deeply, mostly seeing the shaman in that suburban house without explanation. Attack the Block spooked me nicely, smart writing, a real menace, real concern for characters I liked. I Walked With A Zombie a classic B movie with an air of terror in the shadows my only other favorite. Although Army of Darkness has some appeal if only for Bruce Campbell being so camp and furious.



And that's only because I've seen Young Frankenstein so many times it's engraved in my head.




What got me as a kid were close ups of eyes, skulls, with those empty eyes. I think it was the sense of being stared at that unnerved me. Oh, and shadows. Or, what might be watching from them. I was 20 before I got over my fear of the dark. Sat on an upturned rowboat in the snow by a lake in the middle of the night, and felt the darkness hold me, softly taking the fear away.

Fear is not a friend, I've striven all my life not to succumb to fear. Courage is an undervalued virtue.



*The most like an evisceration, with fake-looking colors and damage.

Bayonet

This was apparently being used as a poker in the fireplace here, dirty and disregarded. Cleaned it up, along with the other bits of iron, and returned it to it's place. It's broken, pitted, rusted. Funny sort of sword.

B's husband came to the gathering, and was being pleasantly nosy, found this, and postulated that it is a Japanese bayonet. Circa WWII. Just a guess, but we decided to try and find out. Not that it will be worth any money, but certainly for a good story if we can find out. And that is worth somethin'/when you think about it/that is worth some money.

Cool, finally, although the sun is still warm. Snow possible for the weekend. Leaves all golden. Missing the reds, purples and full spectrum of the eastern trees, but everything is a trade.

Scalp

Many years ago, D had a cyst on his scalp. Got it taken off, and a bit of lopsided shaving at the clinic. The next one that popped up, he buzzed the hair short. The next one, he decided to just shave, and it became a regular style.

Of course, ever since he'd been in the army, he got comfortable with the idea of a very short haircut, and had on occasion had it done very short even before the cysts. A roommate of mine exclaimed "You ASKED them to do that?" after a particularly military buzzcut.

Given that I, too, had done the army thing, and rather enjoyed rubbing the heads of men with velvet haircuts, this amused me greatly.

So, I took over with the haircuts, since this was very simple. He also figured that it was the dignified way to deal with bald spots. So, I became his barber, first with an electric shaver, then the razor. Well, I had been trained to shave people in nursing school.

Something I enjoy, getting down to the skin. He has a very nice head. And if he develops a lump, he's prepared.

Not that I'd mind if he decided to grow a long mane. He prefers his scalp, though. Easier to wear hats, baseball and stocking-type. And he would have a bald spot, so the plan is coming together. I think he likes me kissing his head, too.

I've avoided paying salons by letting my hair grow long. Other side of the same idea.

Shoulders

Realizing I put in a solid 16 hours yesterday, work and party. Which is to say, I was up WAY past my bedtime. Then only slept five hours. Not hungover, although it could well have occurred. Not entirely sober when we crawled in just before midnight. Which, yes, is about three hours past my usual. Got dishes away this morning (blessed be the dishwasher) and what little else there was to put away. D managed to get back to sleep, I rested, but never drifted off. Instead, I'm hazy and droopy. Not entirely unpleasant, really. We got out to walk a little, which helped.

Cats may have been slightly stressed with all the people, nothing they couldn't cope with after a good hork, though.

We were not expecting people to be as huggy as they were as they left, but that was fine, too. D chalked it up to alcohol. I put more on tired stressed people given a safe place of respite. Bit of both, no doubt.

Warm, windy, all the leaves on the tree out front falling goldenly. By tomorrow, most of them will be down. Eleanor in the open window, when I noticed Moby gingerly stepping down from the sill to the stool behind her. He sat looking out with her for perhaps ten minutes, a companionable moment.

Aftermath

And afterwards...



Seriously, easiest after party clean-up ever. OR people, sheesh. Got more than we expected, not as many as seemed to be planning to attend. We just let it roll. Not as much shop-talk as might have been, more alcohol consumed, less food appeared, lots of laughter, all sat around in the living room, which I somehow didn't foresee. I guess it was like lunch in our tiny staff room, but more comfortable.



The only spilled drink was minimal. The only vomit I found this morning from a cat. D enjoyed himself, got to tell some of his jokes. To bed very late for us, still woke up very early.

Wonderful to be among, and relaxed. The House reassures me. Nice that the cats let us have the party here. They supervised politely throughout.

Coin

Heads or tails.

One of those niche skills, directions. Distal, proximal, caudal, cephalic, anterior, posterior, varus, valgus, hubwards, rimwards. North, south, east, west. Determining where we are in space, or on a body, is not straightforward. Take a map, twist into a torus, flip around and shimmy like your sister Kate.

Colour

Wow, do we ever need a party. The people I work with, I mean. People needing a bit of a blow off.

Quick run to TJs after work. Young woman, maybe 30, tall, attractive, gently enters my field of vision, and says,

"I love your hair color. I wish I could make mine like that." She was polite and sweet, and kind.

I managed an utterly genuine "Thank you." I'm sure it showed in my face as well, as I felt tears a moment after. Once I got home, I realized her hair color is much as mine was at 30, although I already had some grey even then. But, she may get her wish after all.

At the end of a couple of difficult, if not long days, not feeling young, or capable of being attractive, this was a gift of deep grace.

Shifts

2004, our first place with Moby.



He began his job supervising and assisting D.

The next place had lovely wide sills, that looked out on the lawn.



Next apartment he got to look up at the feet of everyone walking past.



Inspecting the first place in Salt Lake.



Then the next.



Then the boxes in his first real house.


Three years ago we started talking about finding a house. We never expected to be homeowners, but in retrospect, we should have known we needed one. We are homebodies, we don't like moving, we always wanted a cat. But it had to be the right house, at the right time, like finding the right person to love and marry.

Oh, and, Eleanor.

Whatever

Um...




... whatever.



Had him out this morning. Dog and his guy walked by. Dog stops, calmly watches Moby. Moby watching Dog, gets up, walks over, they sniff noses, calmly and politely. Guy and we just laugh a little. Nice Dog, nice Cat, sayin' hi.

Cleaning away, saving the kitchen for Wednesday. Less dust. And we will use our sideboard as a sideboard. This tickles me greatly. Have to move the cat's waterdish, and my little chest of drawers, which is simplicity itself.



Really looking forward to this, I have to say.

Even got a couple of proper chair pads, which I've been putting off. Nice 2fer1 sale going on. And a glow-in-the-dark skeleton at 40% off, to make the house easier to spot, and lodging this song in my head.

All the people are so happy now/Their heads are cavin' in
I'm glad they are a snowman with/Protective rubber skin
But every little thing's a domino/That falls on different dots
And crashes into everything/That tries to make it stop

And the mirror, it reflects/A tiny dancin' skeleton
Surrounded by a fleshy overcoat/And swaddled in
A furry hat, elastic mask/A pair of shiny marble dice
Some people call them snake eyes/But to me they look like mice

And nothing's smellin' like a rose /But I don't care if no one's coming up for air
'Cause I know nothing's gonna change my clothes/Ever anymore

Ebola

Much discussion at work this week about ebola in the US. The public assurances that the outbreak would be perfectly controlled, here. And the reality of humans, nurses busy, and focused on the patient. Word leaking out of a patient who was cared for by 70 people. I don't know 70 people working in one place where I would trust every one of them to always do the right, safe, thing. Of information not passed on, or not listened to. Symptoms dismissed. Breaks in the elaborate safety gear protocols, that were not properly in place to start with. None of the staff I work with were surprized at the breaches, we know too well how often we slip up on sterility - although we correct it immediately. Or try our best to. We know that what the floors/wards call sterile, we barely consider 'clean'. And for the most part, it's adequate. And we know even what we call 'sterile' is only relatively so. It's based on what seems to work, so much of what we do has never undergone solid, double-blind, widespread studies.

When we read that they'd sent specimens through the tube system, we all slapped our heads in disbelief. Not intentional stupidity, but thoughtlessness is easily as bad. I've worked with tube systems, and know how often they are shut down because some specimen sent through leaked, and it all has to be decontaminated. So a policy is put in place that wet specimens can't go through. Then someone gets careless, again.

Our core guy wound up in urgent care with pneumonia last week. He'd gone in three days earlier, coughing blood, in amazing pain, and was sent home with tylenol. We all told him it was because he looks like a punk. Which he does, and he agrees, but assured us he made his first visit in a dress shirt - knowing how he is seen. The second doc did not treat him like a whiny drug seeker (which he is anything but), and furthermore was incensed by the initial neglect. Core Guy got the x-ray and antibiotics then, so is much better now. We suggested next time he just keep some scrubs at home, in case he needs to get treatment, since we tend to care for our own best of all. He says he's noticed this before, but never thought to do it on purpose. We've gone easy on him all week.

Awake too early, raw and worn this morning. Odd how after being so tired, I wake up even earlier. It's not right. Have to start the clean-up soon. Not that it's all that much work, just want it set to go. Then try to keep it all tidy all week.

Later, though. Later.

Consolation

Plain knee scope, patient 6'9".

Bilateral fasciotomy, patient 5' nuthin'.

Laterjet shoulder, long, long, long. We don't do a lot of these.

Shoulder, lateral, six anchors.

ACL, patient 6'5".

Not a short day, not an easy day, nothing routine nor straightforward. All with extra people and no Fellow. Two residents, & a med student.

Got a 20 min. lunch. Thanks to D running over to TJs last night for a packaged meal, I had enough food. Head in a vice, and worn to bits, but recoverable. Had nice sake as a consolation. And D made me eggs, which was exactly what I needed and wanted. Reading Wodehouse as well.

Mousie

We heard Eleanor acting 'mousy' last night, so I looked again for the shake-away. Found one for mice, and it's applied around the basement and stairs, doors. I don't mind her diet supplement, and I sort of hate to spoil her fun, but I do not want pissy wee mousies in the house. With the colder nights, they are going to want to nest down inside, and I want them to be elsewhere.

So far, it does seem to have worked, and we were overdue for an application. Hoping it was just a recon, last night. Eaten or not.



Planning a work party here, which is about the only way I'll attend one - if it comes to me. Potluck, and proceeds from recycling copper from the bipolar* cautery cords. Started doing this several years ago, suggested by one of our hand fellows. Takes a year or so, and we have 30-40 pounds of stripped copper wire. Got $70 for our 30lbs this time. Which will go for beer/wine. Food is potluck, which is not generally a happy for me, but since I'm providing the space, all I have to do for that is a bit of protein. In this case, I will probably pick up a couple of rotisserie chickens from the market, all cooked.

I didn't attend the last two, the first being too far west for me to drive after a shift. The last, there was this evil cow-orker that I was not about to let visit House The Home, and she was Party Animal. I have enough grace not to host a party, then try to exclude one person. This time, there is no one I work with I would have any problem having in our home.

Parking isn't easy here, but the house is otherwise perfect for this sort of gathering. It's good to have a sufficiency of chairs. Even have enough glasses, including a few wine glasses. Nothing matches, and it's mostly from yard sales, but that suits me down to the ground. I prefer nothing break, but it won't break my heart if it does.

A week from Friday. Trying to get everything clean, so it won't take much to spiff up at the last moment.


Moby just wants to be OUT. Took him this morning, four times 'round the garden, sat in Sebastian's lawn, watched people walking by from the verge. When D got home, he scooted back out, had to pick him up to bring him back in. Moby, that is. I've never had to pick up D to bring him inside. Open windows, both cats haunting them. A warm October wind under heavy clouds.



*Which is all that is generally used on hand cases. We have a whole system for extracting the copper wire, perfected over the last five years. Keeps us busy during slack times, inbetweens... and provides beer.

Touch

Not quite a snuggle, but touching. Yes, he knows she's there, although he was crashed while she approached. Probably won't see this again for a while, but it's happened once - so it will again. Perhaps ten minutes before she figured she was pushing her luck. She does like him, and he warily likes her.

Distances

High and Low.

Switch

All the lightswitch covers look like this. Institutional, characterless. Most also are marred, won't clean up. This has been one of those little things I've wanted to deal with for the last two years. But it's so trivial, compared to insulation, sinks and cracks.



Searched around, and all I could find was more of the same, or just plastic expense, and a slew of etsy instructions for how to adapt your own. Lots of découpage. So, I thought, I have stuff, I have glue... .

I have imagination. And tape. Looked around, and after a few external forays, I also realized I have origami paper. And foil tea wrappers. And it doesn't have to be perfect, just colorful, and unique.



We see these as ephemeral, easily changed, impermanent. Bits of paper, disposable, if interesting, wrappers repurposed.

Little things.

Coffee

Listening to an audible recording of Smiley's People the other night, and I heard the phrase, "alleged coffee." I thought this was amusing, then realized I'd never heard it before - because the line actually went "A leisurely coffee."

Oh.

But then I heard the jingle "heavenly coffee." Could not recall the brand. Something, something the heavenly coffee... better coffee a millionaire's money can't buy. Forgot about this when I could have looked it up. Until this morning, awakened by successive heat waves reminded me of hot coffee, and the intertubes coughed up the answer. Chock Full 'o Nuts. Further wiki'd, found an interesting story about selling nuts to theater goers, then sandwiches of cream cheese and chopped nuts on dark raisin bread, and coffee for a nickel. And that ad jingle, too, involving Rockefeller and a song called That Heavenly Feeling, by the McGuire Sisters.

Then there is Coffee in Bed by Squeeze.

We plan to have a copper recycle party for work here, when it all comes together. May have to have someone bring a coffee maker. And coffee. Since I don't have any here, neither of us like the stuff. I have never made it, either. One failed attempt cannot count, any more than instant.

My father put hot coffee on shredded wheat, a combination that stank of wet dog. Can't abide the stink of coffee. Sad. I could have used caffeine in the army, coffee was the only delivery mechanism. I tried, believe me, I tried. Had one cup of Kenyan coffee at a nice cafe once, I could have grown accustomed to that, in time, I think. Rather like beer with coffee in the brewing, which is very nice.

Fresh brewed coffee smells faintly of old cigarettes and '71 Chevys to me.

Stroll

All I could do, short of picking him up, to get him to come back in. Really didn't want to have to do that. And he still wants to go back out.

Yes, there is a duplicate I had not intended. Too fatigued to correct it. Not tired, not really. I've had plenty of rest. The lack of decent, deep sleep, though, is eroding my ability to care about small details.