Thursday, April 18, 2019
Piano
It's been a unholy week, with grace notes. The full moon through our front tree this morning, Eleanor like a furry, purring tumor on my chest through the night, the greening garden running off grinning - taunting "you can't catch me!" Beats kneeling in a grim church praying to an absent god. I will sit out in the sun later today.
Moving my fingers on the damaged side, proof of progress. Taking minimal pain meds, half doses at longer intervals, not letting the pain overtake me. This has let me sleep sufficiently. When I was a kid, cough syrup came with codeine, OTC. I remember a flu, and that stuff, and the most lovely cozy sleep. This is very much the same, not drugged up, a soft respite. I know to be cautious.
My training as a scrub is proving worthwhile, getting creative with one, non dexterous hand. I don't know how to do what I need to do, I do know how to approach the problems. I am my own patient in that way.
Dylan is my other hand. And having an on site IT guy is vital.
We can't find Eleanor's hairball treats that we got Sunday. The pitcher we ordered came in at tarjay, picking it up is harder. Getting to the plant sale in May could be difficult if I'm not driving yet. I can't shave Dylan's head. I don't want to cut my long hair, but keeping it tied back is a bit of a bugger. He has no future as a hair stylist.I keep thinking of places I'd like to pick something up, realizing getting there will be a problem. Nail clipping for felines and humans will be fun.
When I hit the floor, apparently I screamed, but after that I only swore with the words shit and bugger, which I'm oddly proud of. Shit is our business, so I always considered it a fair swear at work. And bugger isn't acknowledged as a swear here, but since I know it is, it still helps. Swearing helps pain tolerance.
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8 comments:
I was thinking about God-there-is-no-God this morning, asking out loud for some help with my life, when I remembered something a guy I used to be married to said in reference to the Invisible One: he referred to Her/Him/Them as the Benevolently Indifferent God. I thought it was funny and apropos.
The God Committee just doesn't give a shit, has no favorites - no matter what religious groups would have us believe - and our lives are inconsequential, random stops on some Cosmic Roulette Wheel. When it stops at our section, we get whatever was pulled from the prize jar. If the jar is empty when the Wheel stops at our place, maybe that's when we leave this world.
(Looking at your x-rays again brought to mind that phrase from opening credits of the Six Million Dollar Man: "We have the technology, we can rebuild...")
You have some wonderful people in your life, Z, starting with Dylan. I'll send a thank-you note to the Committee.
PS: Loved the look of surprise on the cat's face when the the player riffed the keys. Best part of the video!
Swearing really does help. Let's hope it'll help you through the coming weeks.
Everytime I read "The bastards at Google won't let me turn CAPTCHA off", I remember this TED Talk:
https://www.ted.com/talks/luis_von_ahn_massive_scale_online_collaboration?utm_campaign=tedspread&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=tedcomshare
Crow,
"Maybe it's all utterly meaningless. Maybe it's all unutterably meaningful. If you want to know which, pay attention to what it means to be truly human in a world that half the time we're in love with and half the time scares the hell out of us. Any fiction that helps us pay attention to that is religious fiction. The unexpected sound of your name on somebody's lips. The good dream. The strange coincidence. The moment that brings tears to your eyes. The person who brings life to your life. Even the smallest events hold the greatest clues."
- Frederick Buechner
You are one of the wonderful, you know.
Sabine,
You, too, btw. Going to watch that. Thank you.
Found the treats.
I can only presume you had a good surgeon. It takes incredible time and patience but it will get better. Judy had to go to ER about 10 days ago by incredible pain in her hip which was affected when she broke her femur. Fears of something broken again or a blood clot undoubtedly elevated her blood pressure somewhat but after a multitude of tests none of that was shown to have occurred. A few days ago she saw her surgeon and after looking at xrays he said it was undoubtedly arthritis in that hip. He injected her with cortisone and it is much better. He started out by saying "I could do a hip replacement but it would involve removing that rod . . ." and she said "stop right there!" Sometimes I wonder if the advances in medical science allowing us to live longer are worth it all.
I love this post and the comments for so many reasons!!
"When I was a kid, cough syrup came with codeine" (oh baby, that old bottle of dark Vicks ... I'd cough on purpose and the mother and grandmother and great-grandmother would come running with spoons).
Saw that video a few days ago somewhere ... brill!
Happy to hear you are moving your fingers ... "Dylan is my other hand" got me a bit teary with happiness. Prost!!
Cat,
So glad the shot gave her some relief. This getting old thing ain't for sissies. Give her a gentle hug from me, please.
All of our hand surgeons are amazing, I happened to get the funny one, my work-brother. He very seriously and sincerely, gave me the option to change to one of the others. I said "I'm fine with any of you to make the schedule work." He worked me into his already crowded Tuesday, last case. Took him about an hour, which is a bit better than par for these procedures.
Rou,
Ha! I hated the taste too much too seek it out. But the effect really was comforting. Dylan still has a good right hand, his left still a bit wonky. He's pledged it to me, as our troth.
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