Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
It’s nobody’s business, including J.D. Fucking Vance, if my wife and I have children, and why or why not. Talk about intrusive government. Talk about petty. What a jackass. There are serious problems in the world, and this is what he thinks about?
Give me a fucking break.
I limit what I share. That’s true in life and includes my blogging.
One, I’m a private individual. Two, I don’t want it to appear as if I don’t respect and appreciate that I have it pretty good. Three, I’m boring and lead a boring life. At the same time, I sometimes decide to share because I endure something in isolation, hunting information, coping and struggling. I suspect that I’m not alone.
So, Ima gonna talk about my feet and ankles. Yes, but this is actually about edema, sodium, and hypertension.
Hypertension has plagued me my entire life. Brief doctor checkups were required when I was a child in my early teens first trying out for an organized sport. The first time, the physician said two things: “You have high blood pressure, and your ears need cleaned.”
When I was in the military, physicians would regularly order me to go through a week of coming into the clinic, hospital, or infirmary daily to check my blood pressure every day. I never paid much attention to it. It was always kind of high and never changed.
I should have been paying attention. That’s on me and my overconfidence and ignorance.
My hypertension finally caught up with me and began manifesting as edema several years ago. I have Mom’s very slender ankles, ankles which my wife always envied. Now they’re puffy. Swollen. Discolored. Stiff.
My healthcare team isn’t quite sure what causes my edema, whether it’s actually my lymph nodes, or venous insufficiency. I don’t want to oversimplify; multiple factors influence it. I always figure venous insufficiency played a large part, but I’ve also discovered that my body doesn’t deal well with sodium. Sodium is used in cooking, baking, and food processing as flavoring and a binding agent and preservative. My body decided it can’t stand sodium. When my blood results come back, high sodium levels always stand out as critically high.
This all came to a huge issue for me when I sprained my right ankle, first in May, then again in June. Both times, I was just moving when — snap – crack — my right ankle gave out and I went down in a blaze of pain.
The second time this happened, I couldn’t believe how much my foot and ankle swelled. Suckers ballooned into huge sizes. Shoes would not fit, limiting my footwear and activities.
I’ve been on amlodipine for several years to help with my blood pressure. I’d quit taking it for reasons I couldn’t even quite define for myself. I don’t know what I was thinking, for real. I resumed the med in early June. But when I went in for my annual check with my PCP in late June, my BP was 169/89. That concerned her.
It concerned me as well. She urged me to track my BP for two weeks and report the results back to her. Take your blood pressure morning and evening every day, she said. If it stayed high, we would need to address my meds. I agreed.
The first week’s results were horrendous. My right foot and ankle were also regularly swollen during that period. So was my left ankle. All of this was depressing. After the first week, I stopped tracking my blood pressure for a day because I was so upset. I had to make changes.
I’d been watching my sodium levels since the edema began manifesting. Now I carried it to hyper-vigilant levels. High levels of sodium are in so many foods. Condiments like mayo and mustard were gone, along with any salad dressings, pickles, olives, etc. I mean, I’d already cut them substantially back but now they were completely verboten. I’d treat myself to bacon once in a while before; no more. The butter we use has sodium; it was cut off. Bread was cut out. Rolls. Cheese. Salsa. Guacamole. Many favorite foods were simply eliminated from my diet. Raw fruits and veggies, which I’d always eaten in regular quantities, were eaten more frequently. I also increased my water intake. I cut down on my coffee consumption, and whenever I go to the coffee shop, I order a glass of water with my coffee. Desserts and treats are off the table.
The results paid off. My two-week average when I turned in my records to my PCP was 134/79. I had several second week readings in the 120/70 range. I had one reading of 117/72, and another of 106/69. My right foot’s swelling subsided. My ankles’ swelling declined. Besides that, I lost six pounds and an inch off my waist. I became more limber and flexible and slept better.
What I sort of realized/hypothesized was that the edema and swelling which I saw in my feet and ankles were happening internally as well. As things reacted to more fluids and less sodium, that unseen swelling also diminished.
Anyway, that’s my story. If you’re out there dealing with hypertension, high blood pressure, and struggling with edema and sodium, you’re not alone. I feel for you. I hope you can make changes and that those changes result in improvements.
They did for at least for me. It’s not over, though. I remain on that strict, almost completely sodium-free diet. Sometimes, we need to face it, this is how it must be.
And that’s how it is.
Cheers
I had a cavalcade of dreams last night. One stood out more strongly than the rest. I was in the military for over twenty years. Not infrequently, I find myself in the military again in dreams. It was so again last night.
In this one, I’d been selected for a new position. I was an E7 master sergeant, which is what I retired as. My predecessor, training me, was an E9 chief master sergeant. He was telling me that this position was a catapult to promotion if I do it right, and he thought I’d do it right. Hearing all that pleased me.
Then he gave me a black attaché case. “You’ll always be carrying this,” he said. “You are now the Russian nuke guy. That’s what everyone will start calling you.”
I’d had some idea of what I’d be stepping into even though it’d been a pretty close-hold process. They’d checked my security clearance and records, noted that I’d been on the Personnel Reliability Program because I’d controlled nukes. My top-secret clearance with all the tags of SI, SCI, TK and TQ that came with being associated with a covert intelligence program pleased them, too. Now I got why.
The Chief was explaining that I would be regularly briefed about anything and everything associated with Russia’s nuclear weapons. Locations, capabilities, changes, updates, whatever. Everything from personnel, process, and equipment. I’d be told everything, constantly. The idea was that I would be the national command authority’s primary go-to if any questions about Russia’s nukes came up.
Then he began taking me around offices, introducing me as ‘the new Russian nuke guy’, explaining that I was replacing him. Everyone shook my hand and welcomed me.
The dream ended while I was still in that process.
I have no idea what it all means but I found it weirdly reassuring, because I’d been selected. I was needed. That kind of thing feels validating, you know?
A young middle-aged woman is at a table with a middle middle-aged man. That’s how they appear to be experienced but amateur eye. Both are attractive. She’s in light grey yoga pants and he’s in khaki hiking shorts. He’s tall, with graying curly hair, while her brunette hair sweeps away from her face and lightly lands on her shoulders. The two are so average white people of the Pacific Northwest. I notice them in the same way as I note others in the coffee shop.
But then, what makes her memorable, after they disposed of their coffee cups at the busing station, she methodically moves through the coffee shop, straightening up the chairs. He goes over and stands by the door, waiting for her to finish. She joins him and they depart, leaving the tidy tables and chairs behind.
The GOP’s fall into a shithole party continues.
The RNC made it official and Trump accepted, both surprises to no one. The racist, lying felon is now their nominee for President of the United States in 2024.
As is standard, Trump gave an acceptance speech. As is standard, he regaled listeners with lies. As is standard, his supporters cheered. He and they need to tear others down and lie in order to make themselves look good because they are shitty leaders. History shows this.
Now, what comes to me is, does he and his supporters not really know reality? Is it possible, that they’re all living in a different reality than the rest of us?
My science fiction and speculative literature fed brain says, “Why, yes, it’s completely possible that some surreal quantum superpositioning between different realities are blending competing histories and outcomes.” On a more pragmatic level, my brain calls bullshit.
Listen to the analysis.
It comes down to values and facts. The fact is, the twenty-first century GOP values are mendacity, hypocrisy, and cynicism. We saw that on full display in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, as those who warned against Trump and his character in the past, like J.D. Vance and Nikki Haley, turned around, smiled, and kissed his ass.
Voters who will embrace this GOP as their leaders are embracing mendacity, hypocrisy, and cynicism.
And if those are your chosen leaders, you should realize that the path being forged will be full of lies and hypocrisy, just as Trump’s speech is.
That’s hardly a shining example for the world as a bastion of freedom, prosperity, and democracy.
Vote Blue in 2024.
Every once in a while, a website that I visit will change their layout. WordPress has done it today, forcing me to ‘search’ for the stuff I generally use, adjust to where they put things, and new features. I say ‘search’ like that because I can’t just slide my mouse to its usual position and click. I’m forced instead to use my eyes and scan the page and then employ my brain. It’s difficult. TG for coffee.
Inspired by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, I’ve come up with my five stages of coping with a website redesign.*
Warning: there’s a ton of f*****g cursin’ involved with a website redesign for me because I’m easily irritated and was enlisted in the military for twenty years. Back then, before cell phones and computers, swearing was our primary pastime as we hurried and waited.
*These stages can also be employed for when a store rearranges its aisles and products, and you rush in to grab the one thing you need and it’s not there because they moved it, forcing you to run around the store in search of.
Annie’s post is loaded with info about actions being taken sharpen people’s Project 2025 awarness.
Annie provides links to a substack newsletter by Jessica Craven, author of Chop Wood, Carry Water, where she is providing tips to help carry Democrats to victory while advancing a progressive agenda.
There is also a link to Red Wine and Blue, an organization which sponsored a Heather Cox Richardson Zoom call about Project 2025. The call had over 42,000 callers on it. There’s also a link to an excellent Robert Hubell piece, Adam Schiff and the “Three-Body Problem” of Democratic Politics.
As Annie finishes, “Don’t Mope — Hope.” Read her post. You’ll be a helluva lot better for it.
What would Jesus do after someone shot him, apparently attempting to kill him?
The question is before us because many Evangelicals believe Trump is their savior. He shares their values, they tell us in polls, votes, and interviews. Which means, of course, that they’re not interested in stable marriages, right? Can’t be, since Trump has been married three times. What kind of values would they have, if they held that marriage was sacred and divorce is a no-no, and then admire a man who has three divorces? I wouldn’t think much of them and their values, no, I wouldn’t. I guess one of their values then is apparently divorce.
They share values with Trump, so I imagine they have a large number of affairs, too, because, you know, Trump. He’s had affairs, right? I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Trump will sponsor a ‘Divorce is sacred’ act if re-elected. Also among Evangelical supporters’ shared values with Trump is the willingness to declare bankruptcy to avoid creditors and escape financial responsibility for the misery caused to others for poor financial planning and execution. He or his companies have declared such bankruptcies a bunch of times, and he’s been sued repeatedly for not paying contractors. I guess that skipping out on their bills is another shared value. Gotta be.
Surely their values include lying and hate. Trump lies with routine regularity. Verify any of his speeches with fact-checkers and Vegas will probably give you odds that it has at least three lies in it. Therefore, truth is not a value for them, but lying, because that’s what Trump would do, is one of their shared values, and he is their savior. He shares their faith.
Nor is Trump forgiving, advocating death for others time and again. So, forgiving is not one of their shared values. Nor is turning the other cheek. Vengeance must be another of their shared values. Gotta be, right, because they share Trump’s values.
They must be proud of him today, then. Their modern-day Jesus immediately rebounded after being shot in the ear and went after the dollar. Yes, Trump’s apparatus quickly set up the sale of special commemorative shoes to remember the shooting. These “FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT” high tops, complete with Trump’s bloody face on it, can be theirs for just $299. That’s really a terrific bargain for a bloody face on a shoe when it’s your savior’s face. I bet Evangelicals snap them up and put them on display in their living rooms, along with their crosses.
I’m guessing from everything I’ve read about Trump that the Evangelicals’ values are rooted in money, like Trump. Just like their savior with whom they share values. Anything for a dollar. Just go after the buck.
Because that’s what Jesus would do.
We went out for breakfast this morning. Over at the next table, we heard a woman rave about what a great choice J.D. Vance was as a veep choice. “He’s so smart,” she enthused.
Sure, smart. I’d say Vance has the morals, ethics, and principles of a snake, but that would be an insult to snakes.
He has the same morals, ethics, and principles of Trump, though. They’re a perfect match and neither can be trusted.
I’m at the point in the novel-in-progress’s progress where I entertain notions of the next book which I want to write.
First, I’m always doing that, no matter where I am in the writing, editing, and revising process. Ideas and characters are stacked up in my head like a giant Costco warehouse. But now it’s reached the point where I’ll transition from mind mutterings into earnest application, chasing a direction, building characters, and so on.
Now, I have one novel in the works where I wrote about a third of it and shared it with friends earlier this year. They said, “That’s great, do more of that.” But there are some ideas which have been lurking in my mind’s niches for a longer period. Some light flashed on them today.
Suddenly a concept jumps into being almost fully conceived. An opening paragraph begins getting typed in my mind. Main characters clear their throats and step up. Then, best of all, a neon-lit title leaps into the scene.
Some muse is behind it all and put together an impressive campaign to convince me to pursue their idea. And it worked.
I’m eager to start writing.
Michael Seidel, writer 