T&P

Daily writing prompt
How do you practice self-care?

For my personal self-care, I turn to America’s political leaders. Yes, just like DC’s elected denizens when disasters strike our nation, whenever something goes wrong with my health, I quickly turn to thoughts and prayers for my solutions. It’s wonderfully effective and doesn’t cost me anything! Although, there are sometimes complications. Like, when I broke some verterbrae in my neck. Despite all my thoughts and prayers, I ended up going to the medical clinic. They apparently didn’t have much faith in my thoughts and prayers, either, because they put me in a ‘halo device’ for the summer.

Other than that, oh, and when I had blocked bladder. Although I furiously prayed that my pecker would do its duty soon and gave it almost every minute of thought, I ended up in an emergency room where they fed me some meds and thrust a catheter in me. That relieved the problem, although I’ve remained on Flomax ever since.

Which was good, because I needed to turn my thoughts and prayers elsewhere. Thoughts and prayers were called for a year later when I broke several bones in my left arm. More thoughts and prayers were required for my ultra high blood pressure and then surviving COVID. Fortunately, medical authorities were there to augment my thoughts and prayers both of those times, along with when I needed surgery last year for a ruptured tendon in my ankle. I’d been tending it with plenty of thoughts and prayers but they surprisingly did very little. It does cause me some wonder about how they’re so successful with thoughts and prayers in Washington, D.C.

Now I think I need to lose some weight. I’m begun issuing a lot of thoughts and prayers that I’ll lose about twenty pounds. If that doesn’t work, I’ll probably see my PCP and go on a diet. Right now I’m going to eat some cheese. I pray that I don’t gain weight from it.

Time will tell.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

’tis sunny enough for a shadeless desert but the sun is just waking the air’s warmth. 42 F outside but the weather sultans tell me 73 F is possible for Ashlandia today. The people are rejoicing. Sunshine’s appearance began about 6:15 this morning and will go until a few minutes after eight. The cats are happy with the weather, snoozing in sunshine in the front or back yard. Rest of the week is looking good. Summer is sliding toward us and gaining speed.

It’s Tuesday, April 25, 2023 today. A quiet time in Ashlandia, but it’s early. Politics are still ramping up. Homeless are camping out in a park. How much money is enough money for the Parks & Rec folks? What’s going on with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival? A cougar killed another deer in someone’s yard. Pets are missing and folks are worried.

Another storm of dreams has The Neurons rocking the morning mental music stream with “Rockin’ Into the Night” by 38 Special. The song came out in 1983, a good year for my kind of rock music. On Okinawa in service of the USAF at that time. This was one of those songs that became cranked in volume so we could sing along off key. It’s a good song for that purpose. I suspect that 1983 came up because I’ve been reflecting on life and recall that I broke my neck in 1982 on Okinawa. Wore a halo device for most of the humid Pacific summer. Anyway, part of me was saying, geez, that was forty-three years ago next month. Zowie.

A note on posting via WordPress. I was having issues. The issues grew, not just with WordPress but anything being used on MS Edge. I worked on fixing Edge for a while. Nothing worked. Yes, all the usual things. Anyway, I switched to Chrome this morning in frustration. Voila, as they say. No issues.

Seize the coffee. I’ve seized mine and slurped some down with a post-breakfast muffin. Window repair man coming to fix one that took a hit during a wind storm. It’s an outside panel. The inner one remains intact, so some heat loss but we weren’t exposed or anything. Stay pos and work the day.

Cheers

Broken Memories

Having this broken arm stirred memories and prompted realizations.

  1. My broken wrist, broken neck, and this broken arm, my only three breaks, involved the summer months. I wore the halo from June through August (yeah, in the Okinawa humidity — we lived off base and didn’t have A/C) and had the wrist pins and cast July and August (central Germany).
  2. Worst thing about the halo was that I dislodged it. I’d talked everyone into letting me return to work. Yes, I was clever, charming, and quick back then, a deadly combo. Barely at work for an hour, I sat down in a chair, leaned back, and flipped over. The halo held my head immobile with four screws. I’d managed to knock my head out of them. Blood everywhere. This was about eleven at night, the mid shift. Commander, paramedics, ambulance all arrive. My CC and the paramedics enter an argument; my CC wants to ride with me. They wouldn’t let him.
  3. After that night, wife, friends, boss, doc. were all of the opinion that I should just stay home.
  4. When my halo was removed, my head felt weirdly light. (Guess I was light headed…) My wife and friends said my head would start bobbing during the first few days. They worked hard not to laugh. I never noticed it.
  5. My CC then, Col. Mike Kerr, was one of my favorite commanders, but I was fortunate to have several good ones. He’d had twenty-four staples in his skull. This all happened in the Vietnam era. He was a forward ground controller, but had additional duties on base. There’d been a mortar attack. His job was to go out, find unexploded ordinance, mark it, and call it in. The enemy knew this routine, so they put snipers in trees just outside the base. One was shooting at Kerr, so Kerr hunted him down. Hand to hand combat ensued. Kerr received his injuries.
  6. My splint is off. My arm has shrunk. Dry skin and wrinkles abound. I’m wearing a removable wrist brace. Elbow movement is very good but hand, wrist, and fingers need work. The healing continues.

I believe I posted most of this stuff before.

Hope you’re all surviving and thriving, wherever you are. Wear your damn mask, please.

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