Futures

Zeppo is a spherical cat. 

When I head out from work, I send Dylan a message.  Often without words. 

I walk the tunnels to get some exercise in. This job is much more desk-bound than any other I've ever worked. It's about 3K steps. I get into my thoughts, and often I find answers to problems. Thinking deeply is part of the work. This week was all about finding mistakes I didn't even realize I was making. And then fixing them. Moving forward, resigned to knowing time machines do not exist.  Tomorrow I will do better. 

 

Wintry

 "Deep in the wintry parts of our minds, we are hardy stock and know that there is no such thing as a work-free transformation. We know that we will have to burn to the ground in one way or another, and then sit right in the ashes of who we once thought we were and go on from there."

 - Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Women Who Run With the Wolves

I continue to write a page, by hand, most days.  Today I was downright restless for hours, pacing. 

I cleaned a bit of the spare room. 

Starving

The new glasses are so different from any other style I've worn. I do like them, but it's taking some getting used to.

Cats are starving. Always starving. We never ever feed them.

 

Permeable

 

Not the sort of writing that wants a readership. This is raw and angry, despairing and destructive, meandering and weird, without explanation or apology. This is not for public use, or even my own reading. It's the blockage to be cleared so that the words can pour out clearly again. 

A volcanic mess.

I watch the Tongan volcano news with a geological impassivity. 

I have to cancel surgeries, and listen to people who have suffered, and deliver them more disappointment. 

If I let this all tear at my heart, I could not go on. I try to let it pass through me, but some always sticks. 

I can't remember the name of the book Pete recommended, about the sailor and the bird and all the other animals that wind up on his boat journey.  He's told me again, before, so I hesitate to ask again. 

And last night I dreamt we were still living in an apartment, or at least also in an apartment. 

Decade

We have lived here for ten years. It doesn't feel that long, and it feels like we've always been here. Such amazing good fortune, such a marvelous decision. All our big decisions have proven to be good solid choices. Not perfect, perfection is neither possible nor desirable. But we have a good house, a good car, a good sofa, terrific cats, and we still adore each other after over 30 years together. 

I've been writing a page longhand in the Tibia notebook nearly every day.  Although it's been nice for my general state of mind, it feels like digging the moat - which has not started to fill up with creativity yet. Or at least not in terms of words enough to write here regularly. 

There is time. However rapidly it whizzes by. 

Happy Houseaversary, House!

Hare

Good New Year to all.  

We've been enjoying Reservation Dogs this week. I love shows and stories that force me to abandon my cultural assumptions. Bury Me Standing and Atanarjuat The Fast Runner are two more. And this video about the issues of Black Hair. 

 I've got my own issues around 

Hair

I Got Tears in my Ears from lying on my back in my bed while I cry over you, might be this year's theme song.  Rabbits and ears and tears. 

Márquez

New glasses.  

And so I rest here

A day ends a year ends here

At the end I rest. 

This is not what I could have expected, but I think a year ago I would have been glad to know there was respite. Not salvation, no paradise, but an easing, less pain, a chance. 

I have been vaccinated just over a year now, a second vaccination, a booster. Tested and shown antibodies, likely had it two years ago now.  Love in the Time of Corona. 

The war started long ago continues, the outcome unknowable.  The peace lays in our hearts, in our love for each other, and will not be extinguished. 

Lantern

Dylan and I gave each other Lucy. She is so soft and gives wonderful hugs. 

Our tree is less shiny this year, but full of our ornaments. 

On the advice of an artist friend, I got some paints and touched up the old lantern that belonged to Granny. 

It was a light, lit up when I was very small. The paint was almost gone on one side, worn away on top and bottom. This is good enough for me, and it's come back to life. 

From earlier years, the wear is visible. Of course I didn't take a good Before this year.

I may touch up the weird baby ornament next. 

A time for renewal. 

 

Culture

 Thankfully I asked about the culture in the new job, in several ways, of various people. And I got olive wood spoons from trader joes and holiday cards. Because my three close colleagues got presents for us as well.  They seemed to be appreciated, not food, not smelly, but pretty and useful. 

These will get the most use. 

The other two gifts were scented, the hand soap in festive theme is actually really nice. The candle will go to a different home, although it is visually pretty. 

Token gifts, not extravagant, thoughtful enough in a professional setting.  I also gave our schedulers cards, with a bit of cash. Seemed important. 

I have my usual Thursday off, Friday off as the official holiday, and of course Saturday and Sunday. Next week will be the same.  Since the hand clinic I'm responsible for is on Fridays, it means two really slack weeks. The last three days I had way too little to do, but had to be there to handle alerts and a few fractures.  So, I had some use, but not enough to fill the whole day.  Sort of guard duty, be available in case.  Getting a reputation for keenness, due to disliking being idle that much. I love a slow day as much as anyone, but this week was too much of too little. 

Grocery shopped this morning, since our only absolute requirement for this holiday is to have enough food. 

I keep thinking tomorrow is the holiday, and it's not. Not that it much matters, really.  Storm coming in, warm and windy. Hoping it will be mountain snow valley rain. MSVR. 

I think they are planning to give us a mouse, don't tell them I guessed. It's a surprize. 

Encrusted

When I finally headed up to work the other day, the sun was out. Usually this means a lot of melting of our typically fluffy, salty snow.  Not this time. The trees are still thick with snow in branches. And a lot of trees in this area have lost a lot more branches than is typical with this much snow. 

Eleanor adores the heating pad today, I've been keeping it on for her. Took her a moment to realize what it was, but once she figured it out, "OH! it's That!" she was stretched out and not going anywhere. 

The tree is mostly decorated, less than usual for me. That could change as the week passes. Or I might leave it with just enough rather than my usual "totally encrusted" style.  We shall see. I have time. 

 

Later

The Utah Highway Patrol asked motorists to work from home or delay driving if possible Wednesday morning.

 I FINALLY get to follow this direction, for the first time since I was in school! No patient is waiting for me, no doctor tapping their foot, nothing so urgent I can't delay it a few hours. The snow started last evening, and it's still plummeting down. I got a text from my colleague saying she'd be in late. And I texted back, What a coincidence! 

 I'll go in later, no problem. I'm up and dressed and ready to go when it's safe. BUT THAT ISN'T NOW! and I don't HAVE to. I can use my judgement and stay off slick, slushy roads. Gosh. I get a Snow Day.

Granted

 I've noticed a degradation in my writing here. The job really is sucking up my mental energies, not surprisingly. I have to trust that my flow will return, once I get over the steepest curves learning the work. I know I can get it back with consistent, daily practice,  that simply isn't possible at the moment. 

I'm not even making photos daily, which takes a lot less brain work than writing. 

It does feel like a new phase of my life. The beginning of the last third - if family lifespans hold true for me. I've worked on all the damage, created and found and salvaged. The future is unknowable, and the past is a fading dream. 

I love and am loved. This is never to be taken for granted. And can never be taken. 

Lachrymating

Showed up in the Atrium at work. 

Then it snowed, and it deflated. 

Zeppo looking out. 

Before the storm. 

"When we meet somebody whose separate tunnel-reality is obviously far different from ours, we are a bit frightened and always disoriented. We tend to think they are mad, or that they are crooks trying to con us in some way, or that they are hoaxers playing a joke. Yet it is neurologically obvious that no two brains have the same genetically-programmed hard wiring, the same imprints, the same conditioning, the same learning experiences. We are all living in separate realities. That is why communication fails so often, and misunderstandings and resentments are so common. I say "meow" and you say "Bow-wow," and each of us is convinced the other is a bit dumb." -Robert Anton Wilson, Prometheus Rising 

 The cold rain and snow falls 

Tired eyes raw with blue screens 

Hope sleeps deeply now.

Bowling

 

Cat or bowling ball?  He's very short bodied, and picking him up is a bit like picking up a fur covered bowling ball.  Seems to be just his cobby shape, the vet expressed no concerns about his weight.  He likes the laundry room, and this spot on the folding table. 

He does not like the vacuuming that has been happening the last few days, and has been keeping his distance. Did not come out to visit when friends appeared yesterday, which is not terribly surprising for him. 

Luxury

 Eleanor knows what she's thankful for. In this case, who. And he's the same one I'm most thankful for. 

Vacuums

There will be photos here later. 

I wake on this day of gratitude in thankfulness. 

With a job, enough income, puzzles to solve and people to help. 

Tomorrow we make it a another day, because there is more to be thankful for.  Our 31 years together and the friends we have gathered. I got yesterday off because Thursday is my usual day, so I get the day before. Friday I get off because my surgeon cancelled that clinic, and my colleague agreed, which is how these things work in this job. 

Before I left on Tuesday, I made a point to tell her how grateful I am, for the time off, and for this job. She expressed similar sentiments, glad that I do still like it, after all the frustrations, and that I am there doing this work. Apparently there really wasn't anyone covering hands/shoulders/Foot & Ankle/oddball, as a dedicated employee. 

We got a new vacuum, since the old one has a tear in the electrical cord that makes it unsafe, and we don't know how to fix it. We will pass it on to someone who does. Yesterday, I got up the past two years of dust and grime that had accumulated as a result of my despondency and lack of vitamin D, and the general lack of anyone to notice coming to visit. The last time this place got a proper scrub was when we hired a cleaner after I broke my wrist. 

I am thankful for the vacuum. Yes, I am thankful for nothing as well. Actually, nothing - especially. Letting my brain rest a bit, this work really does push me to think in different ways, and work a lot harder. 

Today, we will have frozen Thanksgiving Dinner inna Box from Trader Joe's, for the sake of form. Tomorrow, chili. Today I will send messages to everyone we know and love, making sure they know we appreciate them. Tomorrow we will see some of them here - all the vaccinated with decent immune systems. Not as much hugging as once was, but presence. 

 Electile Disfunction. 

There is a video at the bottom of the page. It's very much to the point. 

Boosted

 Yesterday I got my booster at work, which was a nice break. Sitting down waiting for the shot, another 15 mins in a recliner (!!!) after to make sure I didn't have a bad reaction. Shot so smooth I did not feel the needle at all, only her hand on my arm.  Brought my paper card and the app to show I'd already gotten the first two. It was reassuringly busy.  We have to remember we are the majority.  We really are.

My arm was so sore overnight, and I had a headache. Today I ache in every joint, but I'm not feeling ill at all.  I have today off because the official day off on Veteran's Day is my usual Thursday off, so I get this as my comp day. Two days off, in case the booster decided to play rough with me. So far, so good. 

The Utah Pork Producers provided free lunch for Vets and Staff yesterday, so T and I went down to get ours and enough for the residents. Three slabs of pork loin each, a small bun, decent BBQ sauce, chips and cookie, with bottled water. I ate one of the meat slices in the bun, with the sauce, and the cookie. Our residents ate far less of the protein than expected, and a lot of it wound up in the trash. I hate wasting food, but no one was going to eat it. And today I feel like mostly being vegetarian for a while.  It didn't taste bad, as such, but there was something too heavy about it, too dry, too... something. It will be a very long time before I even eat crispy bacon again, possibly never. 

Espresso

 I had to try it. And, with cream, it's oddly appealing. Won't be my favorite go-to tea, but I'm happy to have it as an addition and occasional tea. 

When I first started in the OR, a traveling scrub tech, at the sterile field, once very seriously asked me for some... sterile (tap the table) espresso. Ha. 

So when I was asked a few years later by a surgeon for an espresso at the field I said, "Yeah, pull the other one."  But. There actually is a tool called an Expres-sew.  Can't win. 

The compost piles are high and rather light with leaves from neighbors on both sides. Winter rain and snow will tamp them down in time. 

Looking forward to my short week, I get Wednesday for Thursday when I'm off anyway. First time getting Veteran's Day off in many years. I can certainly use a bit of time off.  Then over Thanksgiving, when I get five days in a row. Let my overheated brain cool off a bit. 

Mouser

Eleanor happily cuddles with both of us pretty much all the time.  Zeppo does as well - when he's in the mood.  He must get his hind haunches and tail rubbed as I eat breakfast.  Cats are so individual,  tail tugs and belly-rubs are this skittish cat's favorite things ever. 

Our neighbor lost his cat Sebastian last month.  Sebastian adopted Mike when he moved in, with the condition that he would always have the option to go outside. He was a mouser of great skill. So when he died, the mice, or possibly rats, moved in. For a few weeks we both noticed them, I put out snap traps in places where cats and squirrels wouldn't accidentally get caught. But I needn't have bothered. Over the past week and a half, I have been gifted no less than four very large mice, or smallish rats. I do not know how to tell them apart. Two on the front porch near the door, two in the back on the walkway. 

I thanked our new Mouser, in abstentia.  I do wonder if it is Mr. Kenny, the black kitten my other neighbor and I fed several years ago during his first winter. None of the rodent gifts were eaten, except for one front leg, so the Mouser is, presumably,  being fed by someone in the neighborhood. 

 

Cancelling

 I found out Monday morning that my hand surgeons were going on a medical mission. This month. And it is my job to cancel and shift clinics and OR schedules. Leaving over 20 people who thought they were going to be seen for their hand pain left back in limbo.  And another four people who thought they were going to have surgery, now back on the waitlist. 

Most were annoyed, but patient with me. A few were angry, and I let them blow off steam at me, as I validated their frustration. Some told me they were going to report this, which I agreed was appropriate. 

This is all made worse by the fact that with the holidays, we had even fewer clinics and OR days. And referrals for care in the community - outside the VA system, is very regulated and there is a big backlog. Some of the regulations were eased during the worst of Covid, but were re-instated and re-enforced in the past few months. So, to get their care covered by non-VA providers, they have to be pre-authorized to have it paid for. 

Of course, a lot of people don't have insurance, or it's expensive, or will leave them with a massive bill, and insurance loves to disallow paying if they can. ACA has improved care for a lot of people, but it's still part of an insurance system that is out to make money, not provide care.  And this is for those who don't have access to the VA at all. 

When we got back from Gulf War I, we were covered as Vets while we were still in the national guard. Since I had no other access to medical care, and barely enough income to cover rent and ramen, that's where I went. Walked in, took a number, and waited. It always took at least 4 hours no matter how early I got there. About 2 hours to be seen, and another 2 to get a Rx or tests. Antibiotics for URIs & UTIs, steroids and an MRI for my sinuses, a lump taken off my shoulder, I paid in time that I had rather than money that I didn't. I was grateful as hell, even knowing it was not exactly ideal. 

So yesterday, in the midst of a busy hand clinic, with a computer access issue that meant our MDs didn't have access to charts and x-rays, and we got behind 60-90 minutes, and two or three patients who lost their shit at us because they didn't get what they wanted, my old hand surgeon came in after the OR was done, rubbed my shoulders and apologized for the mess he had me clean up. 

Well, cleaning up after surgeons has been my job for over 25 years now, so, here I am. This is what I'm paid to do. Best do it cheerfully.  I managed, I dealt with the minority of crabby and mentally ill vets, I deescalated and sorted and worked the problems until it was all done. And even working 40 hours a week at this, I'm not in pain as I was working 30 hours a week in the OR. This is my last hard climb to a decent retirement. 

I can do this. I can. 

Dylan had a procedure this week, and got his booster, so he's feeling more than a little ragged. I got to see him a bit disinhibited with drugs, so that's my consolation prize for being his nurse as well. I'm still not getting much energy improvement from the vitamin D supplement, but that can take several months to be noticeable. 

Later this weekend, I'll write about the cats and the compost and some new tea.

Circo

"no es mi circo, no son mis monos"

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Fridays are going to be my solidly crazy busy days. With the day off before, and being in clinic that day, it will be a scheduled "pelt the coordinator" season. It's ok, it's kinda fun, really. So glad to be back in our little office cubicle later in the afternoon where it is quieter.  My life for the next six years. I know the time will whoooosh by.  

It's a good gig, and I am content. I don't take the grumpy people personally. I make mistakes, I fix my mistakes, I solve problems and move on and do the best job I can. I rattle cages, that is a big part of the job. Patient calls, no one has called them, no one has listened to them, they can't get through. I break up the clog, inform a bunch of people, get some texts and calls and emails oiling the machinery, and follow up. I live in a forest of sticky notes.

But I also am learning when to step back, when a patient is trying to work the system for their own addictions, manipulations and unreasonable demands. Like wanting their surgery on one particular day, and there is no surgeon to do the procedure that day. Or they are out of narcotics and want a refill, long after they should need one for their particular issue. "I know my congressman's phone number!" - Good, we all should, but I still can't kidnap a shoulder surgeon and make him do your surgery on that particular day. 

This is when I just need back up to tell them, no.  No, but here is another way through. No, but we do care, and want to help you get better, just not like that. 

As a scrub, I often heard surgeons make the not-entirely-a-joke instruction, "Give me what I need, not what I ask for!" This is in reference to them asking for an instrument, but they mis-speak, and the scrub probably knows this, but gives them what they asked for.  Learning to be semi-psychic is part of the job.  Pattern recognition, mostly.

People who have been through the military are often not the most stable of people from the most secure families. It leaves fracture lines. We were already a bit broken before we signed up, in all the ways that humans can be crazed* and that environment both stabilizes and creates new damage. Age shows the wreckage beneath the facade, as well as the determination and strength. 

*

When the old job threatened to blow up in my face, one of the most important determining factors in my decision to let go, was Dylan gazing at me and saying "If you don't have this job, your back might heal."

My back is feeling much, much better these days.

No, I can't do that job anymore, but here is another way forward.

Now, just got to get my Vitamin D up to measurable levels.

Radical

"What does it mean to be radical, to tell radical stories in our time, to win the battle of the story? The North American tradition seems to focus its activity on the exposé, the telling of the grim underside of what we know: the food is poison, the system is corrupt, the leaders are lying, the war is failing. There is a place for this, but you cannot base a revolution on the bad things the status quo forgot to mention. You need to tell the stories they are not telling, to learn to see where they are blind, to look at how the great changes of the world come from the shadows and the margins, not center stage, to see where we're winning and that we can win something that matters, if not everything all the time." 

- Rebecca Solnit

From the hospital 4th floor, I can look out on the mountains.  Rain fell on the valley for several days, and left the mountains covered in snow. At least the tops of the higher peaks. The drought is not over, but the potential for respite, is welcome. The skiers are happy. Us gardeners are as well. 

As I get the hang of the job, often in the clean up of the errors I made when I didn't understand it as clearly, I can feel my brain chugging away. It really is like a complex puzzle, and working through it requires an endless persistence. All while responding to new requests requiring attention and solution. 

I love it. 

I'm tired, and it's hard, but when I find a way through, it's a satisfying thrill.  And I really like my co-coordinator who is teaching me. We have a similar approach, and she is so patient about my learning process. She has a great sense of humor, too. The nurse who runs the clinics told me we seem to really work well together, after I'd mentioned how grateful I was to have such good people to work with. 

Sadness, too. Cancellations due to covid are common. But then pretty much all our patients are people with multiple issues. And it's not just that they were in the military, but the reasons that being in the military was a choice they made to start with.  I mean, I joined because I was lost and needed a way to get back into school.  That was due to the emotional disruption and poverty of my childhood, the army wasn't so bad. We may need a public service system that includes education as well as physical and emotional health for all young adults.  Let them rebuild their lives, find colleagues and family, work through their emotional issues, get proper healthcare, save some money rather than incur debt. Without the goal of maybe killing people. Instead, learn skills, become proficient in.... well, whatever. Farming, plumbing, building, coding, doctoring - all while making life better for themselves and others. Give them a boost up rather than bury them in a hole. 

Indigenous

 Went out to replace my trench tool, the single most used gardening tool I had. Some random dude stole in in the spring, when I could not replace it because I wasn't spending a dime I didn't need to.  Today I have a new one, and bulbs to plant. The spring garden was so sparse, still, and I wanted more color. Found these, and look forward to their blooming. 

Spending the day getting a few things done, but mostly letting my brain rest.  It's been raining all weekend, and the week ahead looks wonderfully wet and cold.  My northern soul is perking up.  The glow-in-the-dark skeleton is up on the porch. A pumpkin is on the table. Next year I may again try to grow pumpkins.  

Big story about my work and the change to the computer systems. I'd heard already of course, but how long it will take... I may retire before it happens. On the other hand, there is a lot of hiring going on, or at least in the laborious process. New positions, changes in protocols. And me trying to figure out what is old, what is new, and how to get it done, when my access is limited. 

I figure, make it six years, and I can retire in relative security. Assuming the world hasn't completely fallen to bits by then. 

Here's to Indigenous People's Day!

Or Columbo's Day (the tv detective played by Peter Falk)

AWOL

 An old friend, from the old job, stopped by on her way home.  Big hugs and a bit of gossip were entirely welcome. I've been head stuck down in the job, almost phobic about writing here or messaging anyone for the last few weeks. My brain is full.

Starting to see the whole scope of what my job will be, at least if I want to do it well. Which I do. It's like an enormous crossword-jigsaw puzzle with other people moving the board. Mostly I'm keeping up, largely because doing it right is what is important, and the sense of RUSH in the OR is largely absent.  Getting to use my knowledge base, and adding to it in lumps and chunks and tangled masses of fine detail. 

I will stop by and read all of your lovely stories soon, really I will. At the moment, I'm still struggling not to just fall asleep after dinner. Reminds me a lot of my first year in the OR, trying to cram everything into my brain so that I could already be good. 

Still, working with a lot of good people, and we are all fucking vaccinated. Unlike my former place of employment, according to P. 

This weekend, more this weekend. I have the Monday holiday off. I will rest and write.