Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts
It’s a complex world out there. You got to be vigilant. Take care of yourself.
This isn’t about me. This is about women and vaginal infections.
My wife related a Reddit story. A woman had a vaginal infection. She went to the doctor numerous times. Antibiotics were always prescribed. They always failed.
She suspected her underwear and shifted. New materials and styles were tried. Nothing. So she went commando. Nothing.
Sugar was removed from her diet, along with other foods. Nothing.
Her boyfriend didn’t have a rash. The two abstained from sex, in case it was something from him. No change.
Finally, she stumbled onto a Reddit post where thousands of women had reported the same struggle. The answer: toilet paper. She changed brands and the problem disappeared.
Sometimes it’s the most mundane and overlooked aspect of life. The edgier lesson was that in all of these thousands of stories from women, no doctor ever suggested, “Change your toilet paper.”
They just prescribed pills.
The end.
Monday’s Wandering Thoughts
Ah, I feel so much better.
Just took my first shower since October 30th. Don’t know if others are as binary as me on this, but I’m a firmly committed shower guy. Baths in a tub will only do if a shower is out of the question.That felt so good. Washed my hair and everything. Had been doing that in a sink, with help from a measuring cup to pour water over all of my head. It worked but it wasn’t satisfying.
Well, when I was booted up, showers were out of the question. Had to keep that sucker completely dry. Which meant it was bagged in plastic and resting outside of the tub. That forced for into additional contortions and requirements. My wife had to be my hands while I held myself up with my foot out of the tub. My remaining bandage and wound could be damp but not wet, and I was to keep soap off it. So I showered with the affected foot thrust out like I was a posing dancer. Then I had to pat dry the affected area.
Let me say this: we have a standard tub. Just one out of the two baths. The other bath has a shower stall. That tub isn’t large enough for mature adults. I mentioned this to my wife. She replied, “I’ve already decided that my tub in our next house is going to be bigger and deeper.”
Agreed.
Monday’s Theme Music
Mood: coldcoffeecomforted
Monday began with my wife’s comment. “If you think yesterday was crappy, wait until you see today. It’s crappier.”
“Why?”
“Cold fog and rain all around us. There’s no sun at all.”
It’s November 17, 2024. Thanksgiving in the U.S. is just a lick away as fall’s descent toward winter continues. 35 F now, it feels like 42 they tell us, but the day’s high will be 36 F. Hope it can feel like 60.
Voting with their legs, the cats agreed with my wife’s assessment. Papi went on exploratory runs but soon returned, pounding on the front door glass. A trip to the refueling station followed, and then it was off to sleep out the day.
I’m close to doing the same. Foot/ankle much better, just twinges and spikes of pain and discomfort, with brief squalls of swelling.
“Still Alive and Well” had been voted in by The Neurons as today’s theme music. The ’73 Johnny Winters song was on a live album I enjoyed as a budding young adult and has housed itself in my morning mental music stream (Trademark still streaming).
Coffee has been ingested. Be strong, get positive, hold fast. Here we go.
Cheers
Mistday’s Theme Music
Mood: dhilldown
We bounced into a misty Sunday. It’s 48 F, up from 38 F. Mist dominated the morning. Rain dropped for a while on this November day, then sunshine blasted through. Now it’s like mist from a walk-in freezer is rolling over us. This pattern cycles throughout the day.
It’s the 17th. We’re slinking toward December, the holidays, and the end of 2024.
The shifty weather has the cats floofboozled. Is it warm, is it dry, what’s going on? Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) tested it once. Papi has campaignd for a revolving door. Now both are in, dry, warm, napping.
Foot and ankle recovery was set back. Some bleeding. Lot of swelling. Ice and Salan Pas applied, with lots of rest with an elevated foot. Feeling much better today, but I’ll continue a slow roll of recovery.
With mists swirling through my awareness, The Neurons cranked the mental music box handle. Up popped Led Zeppelin with “Misty Mountain Hop” into the morning mental music stream.
Be positive and hold fast. Coffee was skipped. Here’s the music. Cheers
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: cloudark
Bit of a darkly mood today. Overdid it with my ankle, pressing to get better. It told me in manners aligned with surgery and lack of use over a few weeks that it didn’t appreciate what I was doing. So now, resigned to slowing down, taking my time. This is one of those situations where a strength becomes a weakness. My strength is a high tolerance to pain and discomfort, and an ability to ignore or overcome them without meds. Doing so with this ankle is clearly screwing up my recovery. With my wife’s *ahem* coaxing, I’m cooling it.
It’s a bleak day out there. Leaves have abandoned the trees and are drunkenly sprawled over the land. Dipped to 30 F for an overnight low. Sluggish sunshine is barely overcoming the cloud wall sealing in the valley in gray and black. Showers and a high of 42 F is on the charts. We’ve been having days of rain. Some has been solid and heavy. Okay, cuz we need rain to refill everything and soothe the earth. More important is snow. Necessary to bank on for the dry, hot months, snow is beginning to gather on the higher mountains.
Hmmm: interesting book title: “The Gathering of Snow”. All kinds of inherent possibilities.
The cats are slowly coming to claws with recognition that the season has shifted into a colder and wetter period. Less demands to let ’em out are noted. Both prefer cozying up at a warm indoor spot over darting back outside. That pleases me; rather have them in. Nurse Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) still hovers over me, sleeping alongside me as I nurse myself back to full functioning.
With convalescence going and a lot of time to think, The Neurons took trips into memories of other injuries, illnesses, sicknesses, and being laid up. Has happened a lot. Started as a child and hasn’t let up. That slowly opened the door for “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper to pop into the morning mental music stream (Trademark repeating). Other than my thoughts about being in recovery time after time, nothing in the 1983 song relates to my situation. Doesn’t stop Der Neurons! It’s an enjoyable song in my estimate about romance, missing a loved one, waiting while enduring their absence.
Let’s get positive, and hold fast. Here we go, another day in the life of. Coffee has been procured and is being consumed. I am at the laptop, foot propped up on a chair, black and white cat snoozing on the floor beside me.
Here’s the music. Cheers
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: Watersloshed
Rain hammered the rooftop. The furnace blower sang along. Slowly we crept toward the dawn of a new Thursday. This one is blessed as 11/14/2024. Or 14/11/2024. You get it.
When the lights came up and the blinds followed, our lovely tree lit the back yard, a red and gold exclamation point on a gloomy fall day. Weather hipsters, aka weathings (weather beings, if you need it spelled out) said, this is the day, take it or leave it. 42 F now, and that’s it. Rain is the main course, with a small plat of sunlight later.
We bundled into my wife’s car as the digits clicked toward nine thirty. Had to be there by 10:05 for the 10:20 event. Traffic was light and the rain little slowed us. We were there early. There, our destination, was my post op meeting with my care team ’bout my ankle.
By 11, it was all done. Bloody bandages were cut away, stitches removed, foot and ankle examined, and all deemed good enough to be done with the boot and crutches. Work it out on my own going forward. Elevate if there’s swelling and ice. Otherwise see you in four more weeks. And the boot, the cumbersome black and blue wet suit for my foot and ankle with its velcro tentacles, was no longer needed. I could sit upright if I wantd. The things we take for granted.
Walking was weird. The foot was a little misshapen by the bandages but that worked itself out after an hour. The toes are like they belonged on the tin man and cry for a lube job. That’ll work out, too. But the legs weren’t ready to accept a normal gait. I mildly tilted to the right and still cautiously favored that foot. Bending my knees as I took steps was a mindful process.
Next up: driving.
I’m looking for a place to buy in the northeastern United States and visit Zillow for possibilites. We’re tired of living so far away from our families that we need to travel by car and plane for a day, giving to the weather and technology gods so they’ll favor our journey. Doesn’t seem like it used to be so bad…
Anyway, I checked out a house and realized that it was a street I once live upon. That sent me down memory paths via Google streetview. Naturally, I recalled friends from the time and neighborhood. One of them was Richard. Seeing his tiny house on the screen and his face in my mind rekindled memories about one Sunday morning spent in Richard’s presence. All he wanted to do was sing “Yellow Submarine” by the Beatles. Wasn’t high or anything; just how he was. I offer it now as today’s theme music.
Be strong and hold fast. Haven’t had coffee in two weeks. Didn’t want to partake of my dark friend’s energy while I was laid up. That’ll change tomorrow.
Cheers
Still Recovering
I’ve had worse. Others probably have it much much worse. Well it’s not a problem thing. I know they have it worse. But here I am in my boot on my right ankle after it’s surgical correction, whining about how I feel, because that’s who I am. The most frustrating part is that I can’t sit upright for long. But I see my care team tomorrow and I hope that restriction is removed.
I’m doing this on my phone. Basically talking into it. Adding grammar, telling it when to punctuate. Going back, editing the mistakes that my voice makes.
The cats have been taking care of me. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) has earned several comfort medals, purring at me from a perch on my chest.
I miss my daily writing. I write notes to myself about what to write and what to fix in my last novel that I worked on. I watch the weather through the open blinds, admiring our tree as it releases it’s newest colors red and gold against the green, bright in the gloomy day as rain falls. My wife and I talk about the election results and how disappointed we were. How disappointed we are.
My sister and I text about the same. She asked me questions about whether Trump can remove generals. Gosh guess what? We text about the Google spike in people searching for can I change my vote. Bitter laughter ensues. No morons, it’s too late.
Have been binging HBO’s band of brothers. The show came on in like 2001. I always avoided watching it back in the day because I’ve been in the military and I didn’t want to celebrate war. I didn’t want to see war. But eventually other options dried up. I’ve been reading books but laying flat on my back holding the book up in front of me challenged my arms. So there it was, band of brothers. And I do enjoy the show I find. As I knew. it is about more than the war, it’s about the individuals finding the war, and their heart breaks and their efforts and their backgrounds.
Meanwhile, the neurons have delivered theme music for me. At least several times a day they play Harvey Danger and flagpole sitta. The same words like to go through my head: “I’m not sick but I’m not well.” That sums it up for me: I’m not sick, but I’m not well. The other lines that resonate with me off and on or, been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding.
Wherever you are whatever you’re doing, I hope you can stay positive, or regain some positive energy. I know you’re hurting, because I am too. Here’s the music. Cheers
recovering
l’m home, surgery completed, ankle sown up, boot encompassing leg from knee to infinity. All progressed well with some bumps. Nada serious. Wife is the attending caregiver. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is assisting her.
Fed. On drugs. Doing great. Thank you for your support and concern.
cheers
Monday’s Wandering Thoughts
Dad’s 92nd birthday is Wednesday. Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ll be calling her tomorrow, so I called Dad today, as I’ll be pretty busy Wed. with planned surgery.
Dad and I had one of the best chats I recall having with him. We chatted about aging, financing, and Mom. Very satisfying.
Dad has always been a level guy, staying mellow, keeping things in the moment. He’s never gotten too worked up over any of life’s tumbles and twists. And he’s been through his share.
He’s in okay health. Had some stents put into his coronary arteries some years ago. Suffers some COPD. Went through some edema issues twice. Now he’s on a low sodium diet. A cane is employed to walk around. He sometimes needs a walker.
But we laughed a lot about these things which happen to us as we get older.
Michael Seidel, writer 