Category Archives: Health

Cortisone and Furniture

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We were driving home from a doctor’s appointment for me at which I received a cortisone shot in my right shoulder. I have complete tears in both rotator cuffs, but they happened so long ago that surgery really isn’t an option. So, I get shots.

About half way home my lovely wife asked me how I was feeling. She actually said that, “How are you feeling?”

Giving it a little thought, I concluded that I felt pretty good, and said, “I feel pretty good. There’s no pain.”

She quickly replied, “Good. Let’s go home and move furniture.”

Because of that I figured there wouldn’t be any need to attend the recommended physical therapy sessions.

Hazards In The Work Place & Recreational Marijuana

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A friend of mine showed up at our weekly Thursday morning coffee clash yesterday wearing a baseball hat. That was odd because he normally wears a watch cap. I commented on his change of apparel and he removed the hat to show us why. Then he mad the mistake of allowing me to take a picture which is pretty much permission to share it with the world because he knows I do that.

Although it appears he sustained these injuries by thwarting an attack by someone who had a board with a nail in it, I assure you he got them in a far less intimidating manner doing a job that would normally result in injuries to pretty much every other area of his body below the head. Pretty gnarly, huh?

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What he does is supervise installation of cement forms for the purpose of creating foundations for new buildings. This particular building site was located in an area where the tree branches around the property were trimmed to about 2 inches lower than he was tall and he said he just kept running in to them. We suggested a hard hat but that’s apparently not an option.

When we shared the injuries with our waitress she said, “Geez! Did you stand under it and jump up and down?” We all laughed, including him, so it was OK. We feel his pain and hope he mends quickly.

At this particular moment it’s 0032, Friday morning. I’m up because I spent the last two hours tossing around in the bed unable to get to sleep. Diane was snoring peacefully, a sure sign that she’s doing OK, so I decided to get up and enjoy the night in other ways. Normally when this happens I ensconced myself on the sofa with my iPad and read whatever book I’m currently reading, but decided to write a bit. I’m handicapped, however, because the keys on my laptop are not lighting up like they used to so I can’t see the keys at all. Everything is by touch. A handy skill to have, for sure, but I like to look at the keys once in a while just for fun. It’s a habit. So far, however, it doesn’t seem to impede my efforts. I suppose I could turn on the light next to me but I’d have to get up to do it because it’s on a wall switch. Since I don’t want to get up, I’ll just keep hammering away.

Diane and I got our flu shots yesterday afternoon. She insisted. now my arm hurts a lot and I think the shot is the reason I can’t sleep. I don’t know why, though, because 4 hours ago I could hardly keep my eyes open was ready to go to bed. I should have done that. Instead we stayed up and watched just one more TV show from the DVR, then just one more, and before we knew it 10 pm rolled around. Then I wasn’t tired any more and it kinda sucks.

Not really. I like sleeping on the sofa and do it quite a lot, just not this early in the morning.

Everyone around town is gearing up for Halloween already. Familiar structures are going up in various yards that are constructed for the sole purpose of scaring the crap out of little kids seeking candy. Could be, too, that the structures may have an alternate purpose this year because, yesterday, recreational marijuana use became legal in Oregon. It’s going to be interesting to see how many drivers decide that, since they can drive perfectly well while drunk, adding a little MJ to the mix probably can’t hurt. The police used to issue tickets for DWI (driving while intoxicated), which turned into DUI (driving under the influence) because I’m sure an ACLU lawyer argued that a mere police office surely couldn’t determine if a person was really intoxicated. I’m sure that DUI would suffice for both alcohol and marijuana, but what about those who use both? Would that be a DUIx2, or should it be a DUI-A&M?

Decisions, decisions.

I’m sure our illustrious state leaders are hard at work on all these questions I have so I’ll let it go and see what the news media has to say later this month. Maybe it will be perfectly OK.

Now I’m going to stop and read my book until my iPad falls on the floor. Then I may get up and go back to bed.

Maybe.

Probably not because doing that would mean I’d have to get up and walk all the way to the bedroom. By the time I got there I’d be awake again so why bother.

Oh ya! Last Wednesday both Diane and I got emails from our new smoke alarms to alert us of the monthly test it was going to conduct, and to report that the basement unit needs batteries. The test went fine. I know that’s true because we got another email telling us. I think I’ll just let the batteries die in the basement unit and see what happens. Wonder if it will get angry.

I’ll let you know.

Specs, Food, County Fair, & a Luau

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Although the prescription on my VA glasses didn’t run out, technically rendering me blind, one of the bows broke off which accomplished the same end result. The glasses they gave me don’t stay on one’s face very well with only one bow hooked over an ear. Therefore, I resorted to an older version from 2013 that seems to work OK with the exception it kinda sucks on my right eye a bit due to the corrective difference I lost with the newer specs. But, they stay on my face and eliminate any possibility of embarrassing Diane due to a glasses mishap. And, I can see well enough to safely drive my self around town.

Speaking of driving … I’ve been doing that with the old pickup lately and it works just great. As you may remember, I left it with Gannon Thomas so he could work on the transmission because it wasn’t behaving as well as I thought it should. Turns out I was correct because Gannon said when he pulled the pan off, all the clutch plates were laying handily in it eliminating the need to remove them manually. All he had to do was dismantle the transmission and rebuild it from the ground up. Total cost … $1400. Cheaper than a new one. Committing to this expense provided the motivation I need to get to work on the truck and make it pretty so Diane will ride in it. Since I’ve had the truck for the past 15 or 20 years, I view this as a long-range project so don’t hold your breath waiting for updates. Then again, perhaps that motivation will speed things up. We’ll see.

Diane worked at the St. Helens Senior Center last Tuesday with the Bethany Ladies, serving the noon meal. I help with that sometimes but didn’t that day because no one asked me. I may have been involved in something else. Who knows?

Last Wednesday the Columbia County Fair opened, celebrating its 100th year which is pretty significant. I don’t think there were any original revelers in attendance. At least none that I could see.

Diane and I attended the opening ceremony in which I participated with a group of VFW and American Legion members who conducted a flag raising ceremony amidst a group composed of at least one State Senator and various other County Officials, not the least of which was Henry, The Comish, who MC’d the event.

Prior to raising the flag, I had the honor of golfing with Doug and Junior and decided to actually count every stroke and not try the risky shots just to see what would happen. Turns out that’s the better way to do it because I actually did pretty good. I also wore an elastic sleeve on my left elbow which, I’m sure, helped a great deal to keep that errant part of my anatomy straight. Now I’m going to wear it every time I golf and see what happens. If you don’t hear any more about this in future posts, it means that I’m just destined to be a crappy golfer and that this last effort was totally out of character for me. An anomaly.

Yesterday Diane made a run around town, and to Scappoose, for some important “stuff” and I stayed home and did important “things”. Sadly, I can’t remember the “things” except for the part where I took a nap. When she returned we got ourselves ready to make a trip to Brush Prairie, WA to attend a luau at Don & Linda’s house with our PT Cruiser friends. It’ always great to see those folks. We always have a great time.

Now it’s Monday and getting on toward afternoon so I feel another nap coming on. This one is necessary in order to ready myself for a pot luck supper at McCormick Park with our Lions club. Cedric, Jennifer, and our neighbor, Scott, are also going because their two families deserted the area and went to Camp Tadmor down south.

Did I mention that our weather has been horrendously hot for the last couple of months? More so lately? No? Well, it has. Our days for the past couple of weeks have been running in the 90’s and sometimes into triple digit territory. For this old Oregonian, anything above 75 is generally lethal. Odd, though, how daily doses of 90+ can make 80 feel nice.

Hope everyone has a great week.

Random Wounds

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Well, I did it again. I unintentionally harmed one of my favorite body parts while I was working to get the front replaced on the old Winnebago. I don’t think this injury is terminal, but it was for sure frightfully painful and an epic sphincter check.

Picture this … I’m standing about half way up an 8 foot step-ladder attempting to push this fiberglass cowl thing into position where it rests on top of the roof and rests just above the windshield. I’m stretching my little arms to position the piece and give one last little push that causes a similar reaction to my left foot which is the only foot on the ladder. My right knee is positioned precariously on the brace at the bottom of the windshield so when I pushed the ladder out I had a total of about 4 milliseconds to determine my fate and the fate of the roof part I had been working on for the past few days. It was either let go of the part, and hope it didn’t break to smithereens when it landed, then grab something sturdy to keep from breaking something in the vicinity of my legs, arms, or chest. Giving this situation careful consideration I determined a compromise was in order.

So, I pushed the roof part up and away from me, toward the roof, which opened up the area directly above the windshield which is imbedded in a sturdy steel frame. As I pushed I simultaneously rid myself of the ladder which left my feet with nothing but air. I intuitively bent my wrists in search of contact with something sturdy and found that bar of sharp steel I mentioned. It caught my left arm about an inch up my arm from my wrist and slowly pealed a few layers of skin into a barrier that stalled my descent enough that I could get my right knee off the windshield and put my foot on the bumper. Once that was accomplished, I released the pressure on my left arm and took a glance at the damage as I stepped to the ground and ran screaming to the house like a little girl about how bad it hurt. What I saw during my brief assessment of the wound was a nasty scrape and that ridge of multiple layers of skin pealed into the barrier I mentioned.

Once in the house, and I didn’t really scream like a little girl … I didn’t even scream at all … but it truly did hurt a great deal as I clasped it to my chest, looking for Diane so I could share, and get some help. Standing over the kitchen sink, in case it was gushing blood, I uncovered my arm and held it over the sink. It didn’t drip a bit and for that I was happy. No stitches would be necessary. It was just a nasty scrape which I could deal with.

Diane got a super sized band-aid, smeared it with antiseptic salve, and applied it over the wound. I can’t wait until tomorrow to see how many colors it will be. Should be festive. Right now it’s just a little swollen and very, very tender. Showering will be a challenge, but it must be done. Diane said I smelled pretty bad. Guess I better check my shorts, just in case.

IRS Threats, Injuries, & Church Council

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Just learned that the IRS is filing charges against me for some reason. They left a message telling me to call 360-363-5925 and I did but all I get is a busy signal. If any of you are interested in keeping me out of jail, please call this number until you get an answer and let them know that I’m sitting here shaking in my boots waiting for them to show up at my door.

Fell down again this evening in an apparent attempt by nature, or karma, to even things out, giving me injuries on both sides of my body. But, reflexes intervened and ensured that new injuries were added to the already damaged left side. This time I twisted my left knee, sprained my left ankle, and added to the complexity of pain of my left arm. That’s two. Thankfully I’ll only have to endure this one more time to fulfill the rule of threes. With luck I’ll continue without actually breaking anything.

What fun.

That’s as far as I got yesterday because I had to drive Lydia to soccer practice in Hillsboro and didn’t get home until 9:30 pm. Bedtime, normally, but we stayed up until almost midnight anyway. Gotta wonder why we do that when we know we feel and sleep better when we go to bed earlier. Old age, I guess.

Now Tuesday is almost a memory and I bet everyone is just itching at the bit to find out what kind of injury I sustained with the last of my three events. Well, even though I spent a considerable amount of time on a ladder, with my sore knee, hip, ankle, wrist, and shoulders, installing the new garage door opener, I failed to fall even one time. I didn’t even slip. Probably because I was being super careful to avoid a possible broken bone. Then, shortly, before finishing my task, which was successful, by the way, because it works, Diane came into the garage and told me I could relax about the third event because she just had it for me. She tripped over the big dog on the porch and slammed herself into the door jamb. So, she’s going to have marks tomorrow and sore shoulders for sure. I don’t think there are many husbands out there whose current spouse would be willing to take one like that for them. I’m particularly blessed for sure.

Now I must assemble my paperwork for tonight’s meeting and have something to eat. Maybe that half of a baguette I bought yesterday. It should still be good. And some cheese.

Hope all is well with all of you.

Church, Sizzler, & Backroads

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Today before pastor started our service he asked those in attendance what they could remember they were told as youngsters that stuck with them through the years as good advice. I had a really hard time holding on to mine while others shared things like, “a job worth doing is worth doing right”, “no matter where you go, there you are” (a little bit of Buckaroo Banzai influence I suspect), “too many cooks spoil the broth”, “a bad day fishing is better than a good day working”, “actions speak louder than words”, things like that. Then there was a lengthy pause leaving us with dead air, and I hate that. When it happens it seems that I’m always the one who winds up filling in that space and it happened again this morning, much to Diane’s dismay, when I shared “don’t eat yellow snow”.

After the noise of everyone’s head swiveling in my direction, the silence descended once again for a moment, then Pastor quickly moved on to the next item in the bulletin. It may have been communion, but I’m not sure. The rest of the service went just fine but Karma caught up to me out by the mower shed while I was walking around waiting for Diane and her Mom, Jean. There’s a short ramp leading up to the doors and I stepped on it. Normally that’s not a problem, but it’s been raining squirrels and chipmunks lately so it was wet and very slippery, something I remembered was true when my foot was about an inch from the surface. By that time, of course, my body was committed to taking that step so I prepared as best I could for the excitement of the fall.

When my foot slipped I went into slow motion mode, analyzing everything around me to ensure there were no sharp objects waiting to penetrate my normally waterproof exterior, then I looked for a likely spot to place my left hand in such a manner that my wrist wouldn’t snap in half. I found that spot OK, but my balance was a bit off so after making land fall I was poised over the ramp a little too far and could not keep myself from finally sitting on it with my next to last pair of nice Dockers. It was a slimy mess, a lot like something that might have come from an ox’s nose.

Since I didn’t hear anything snap, or crack, I knew it would be bet if I regained a vertical stance because I knew the pain was coming. Then I ran to wash my hands warning Diane, as I passed her on the basement steps on my way to the kitchen sink, that I was going to be in severe pain tomorrow. Then I had her look at the back of my pants to see what kind of damage they had suffered, but she said they looked fine. Then I took a towel and wiped all the gunk from my rear and showed her what she’d missed. Can’t blame her really, because my Dockers are dark brown as was the stuff I sat in.

I took the towel to the Buick so sit on when we left because I didn’t want to mess up the seat, then we departed on a scheduled trip to Sizzler, and an impromptu trip down the Washington side of the Columbia River to see what St. Helens looked like to the people who lived over there. While at Sizzler I ate eight chicken wings two chicken legs a modest salad and a soup bowel full of ice cream. Substantial, but not a record because I’m working on portion control.

Although the I-5 freeway would have made the trip much faster, I sat in the back with my iPad giving left/right directions as I studied our location on Google Maps. The goal was to keep us off the freeway as we made the 20+ mile trip from Longview to Woodland and I did a remarkable job. I know that’s true because both Diane and Mom said so. It was a really nice trip on a whole bunch of roads that none of us had ever travelled before.

Then we went back home to rescue the dogs, dropping Mom at her house on the way. Here’s what the rain has done to Milton Creek that normally runs peacefully through her back yard …

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You may remember that it looked like this not long ago …DSC_1819That’s Baylee, Jerrie, and Gilligan, in case you forgot.

Once home we quickly shifted into our pajamas and watched the last quarter of the Blazer game against the Houston Rockets. Blazers won handily.

Now I must go to bed and get to sleep as the pain on my left side has begun. Tomorrow is going to be brutal.

Doug in a Ditch I Dug, & Diane

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Just when I thought everything was going perfectly, I discovered there was a leak in our water line between the new meter that was installed, and the house. I notified the water department asking them to please visit and convince me that installing the new meter wasn’t the reason for the leak. They come up and we had a nice conversation during which they proved to my satisfaction that there were no leaks at the meter. That was disappointing news because it meant I would have to dig around in the yard to find the problem area. A daunting task. I had visions of holes all over the place and the trouble I’d be in if that actually happened.

So, I decided to dig down to the input pipe next to the house hoping I wouldn’t have to dig up the year at all. Grabbing a shovel I got to work. The input into the house is through the basement foundation about 3 feet below ground level. To get there required that I hack my way through the root structure of some really old rhododendron bushes that I dismantled a couple of years ago. Finding the water line may result in the demise of one or more, but that’s OK. I never liked them anyway. Then again, I’ve also discovered that it’s really hard to kill one of those things so they may be just fine.

At the level predicted, I encountered the old water line that was installed, I’m sure, when the house was built in 1957, a good year for Chevys. The 58-year-old pipe I found was very rusty and appeared to be a serious candidate for springing a major leak. Fearing the worst, I sprang to my feet and rushed to ACE Hardware to get the parts I needed to correct this potentially expensive situation.

Upon my return I went to the basement to shut off the water to the house. Normally the whole house cutout valve is located outside the home, but not here. It’s located just above the basement work bench. Then I killed the water on the city side of the meter so I could disconnect the house side from the meter. By adding one crafty attachment to the house side, I was able to attach my new water line hose. At the house, I connected the other end of the hose to the outside spigot that’s conveniently located almost directly above the input water line. Going back to the house cut out valve that’s inside the house, you may wonder why I turned it off. Well, as it turns out, that cut out valve is located below the outside spigot so by connecting the new water line house to the spigot turned the spigot into the house supply point. Here’s what I wound up with.

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I figured my task was done. I bypassed the rusty old pipe, got water flowing into the house again, and when everything was turned off, the meter didn’t spin like it did before. Then I suddenly remember that I was married and that there was no way having the hose strung across was going to be a good thing. I called my lawyer and was able to negotiate a deal that would allow the hose to stay in place temporarily while I dug a proper ditch that would allow me to install a proper water line. The only driving factor for completion is the weather … considering the hose is above ground, freezing temperatures could prove to be problematic.

About this time my friend Doug called and offered to lend his considerable talents to help me resolve this problem. Actually, he called before and was the one who suggested the temporary hose solution. I cannot deny him that success because it was an awesome suggestion. So awesome, in fact, that it could easily be a permanent solution in a warmer climate.

This morning Doug arrived at 0900 to assist me with a proper ditch into which we can stuff a new direct line to the house. We began by laying out a huge tarp onto which we laid the sod we removed from the path we chose from the meter to the house. Then it was time to begin the ditch. Doug chose to work in the ditch I’d already dug next to the house, hence the title to this little ditty. I started digging deep at the meter, piling the excavated dirt onto the aforementioned tarp. As we worked in our respective ditches it occurred to me that we represented over 140 years of life experience in the course of our tasks. I pointed this out to Doug and we both concurred that it was time to take a break. It was time for lunch anyway, so we went in to eat soup with Diane.

The afternoon stretch, after lunch, found us moving a bit slower and taking breaks more often to chat. Soon we were chatting more than working so figured it was time to call it a day, which we did. We were dirty and our boots were caked with mud so it took a little bit of time for us to make ourselves presentable enough to administer a proper adios to each agreeing to reconvene another day that is yet to be determined. Doug commented to Diane that he was afraid I’d go to work on it without him and thereby take all the credit for the big finish. I wouldn’t do that. You know that, right?

After I scraped myself clean, then took a shower, putting the temporary waterline hose to the test, I relaxed for a bit and watched the New England Patriots beat the Baltimore Ravens. Then I made us BLTs for supper and we watched the Seattle Seahawks take out the Carolina Panthers. When that was over we switched channels to watch the Portland Blazers play the Orlando Magic. As I rattle this keyboard, there are 33.5 seconds remaining and the Blazers are up by 7 points. In order to maintain their winning ways when they are ahead after three-quarters, they must maintain until the bitter end. Now there are 9.8 seconds remaining and it’s 103-92 Blazers and that’s where it ended.

Now, about Diane. She’s been battling terminal bronchitis for two weeks now and it pains me that there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s on antibiotics and they are helping, but not quickly enough for either of us. She gets exhausted coughing and watching her do that just wears me out. Please pray for her recovery so I won’t get so tired.

Thanks

Health, in General …

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For those of you who are concerned with my well-being, or those of you who are curious and wonder what kind of a fine kettle of fish I’m currently embroiled in, I must comment on my visit to the doctor last Monday, the 22nd. As you may recall, at that visit it was determined that I probably had a virus but if it didn’t clear up in 7-10 days it was probably an infection that would require antibiotics. So, here I am on day 9, hacking and coughing up some pretty interesting stuff that feels like it has a death grip in my bronchial tubes until a sufficient amount of coughing wrenches it free, allowing me to spit it out and have a good look. Now, it’s understood that I’m not an expert on material that exits a body, in any manner, but I know what I like and what I don’t. In this particular case, not only does the expelled material reek of infection, it also tastes really bad … a little like sulfur smells. Or the taste one might get from sucking on a mouthful of pennies … so I’m told.

To help remedy this, I sent my doctor an email explaining my symptoms and suggesting that a round of antibiotics may be in order. I have a particular antibiotic in mind, but didn’t want to suggest it and, therefore, appear to be a bit brazen. But, I bet I get what I had in mind.

If anyone is interested, I’ll take some photos of the chunky monkey I’m coughing up, but think a generic photo will suffice. It’s something like this …

thIt looks a lot like pancake batter.

Now I must stop and watch football, leaving you with this image that may cause you to reconsider your breakfast choices going forward.

VA, Costco, Michaels, Fred Meyer, & Lydia

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Today I paid another visit to my psychiatrist at the VA clinic. She officially said that I’m not nuts after all and that I didn’t have to come back unless I wanted to. She was very nice and we had a good rapport. Apparently I speak a bit of her language. Anyway, we severed ties because she’s moving on to greener pastures with her skills. I can’t say that I’ll miss her because I’ve only seen her twice, but it was meaningful and we accomplished my goal of ridding my life of Ambien. By January I should be done with it.

Now all I have to do is lose about 30 pounds so the Diabetes Police will leave me alone. All I have to do is quit eating. Simple.

We returned home by way of Costco, the one on Jenkins Road, where we enjoyed a festive lunch of very large hot dogs. $3.00 gets you two of the foot longs plus two refillable drinks. Can’t beat that for a decent meal. Ok, ok, … it’s processed meat, I know, but it’s still a decent meal. On the plus side, I only had half a cup of soda instead of a full one with a refill, like Diane did.

Then we stopped at Michaels so Diane could get some important things. She let me stay in the Buick and rest. And read my book. On my iPad. Then we had to stop at Fred Meyer to get yogurt. She let me stay in the Buick there, too. Gas was only $2.27 but we didn’t need any. It’s cheaper at Freddie’s than it is at Costco.

One of the things she got at Costco was a dead chicken in a plastic box. It was all broiled and brown and I figured it was destined to be our early dinner. I was correct, as I am many times throughout the day. One of us may disagree on that point and that’s OK. I know I’m correct, like I am many times throughout the day. Again, there may be disagreement, etcetera.

Once home, my job was to dismantle the chicken while Diane made a festive salad. We had to hurry because I was tapped to return Lydia to Hillsboro for her weekly goalie training session. I did it because both Diane and Jennifer were booked for a hot bunco party, something they do once a month at various homes throughout the area.

Lydia and I had a very meaningful conversation on the trip over since it was just the two of us. We don’t get that kind of quality time together very often and it was good. I learn stuff. Today it was that one of the qualities of a good male friend, for a girl, is that he will hold your hair back when you throw up. Every time. She was sick, you see, during a teen conference thing for church and thought it would be more fun to throw up out side on the street than inside in a toilet. The male friend, I’m told, is sweet on Lydia but it’s been made very clear to him that she likes him like a brother. Still, he tries. During this learning evolution she consumed 17 of the 20 chicken nuggets we got at McDonalds on the way out of St. Helens. She only wanted 10, but for another $.50 we could get 20 so I opted for the bargain. It worked out.

Now I must stop. This is post 690. Maybe not a big deal to many of you, but it is to me. Thinking about all those words makes me tired.