Be nice if I was given a sabbatical from aging. Feels like I’ve been aging my whole life.
It was great for a while. Then…aging started getting old. Now worries come up with every fart, creak, and groan these days. What is that? Do I need to worry about it or can I forget it?
That whole worrying about things is different when you’re aging. When I was young, I’d fall off a building, land on my head, bounce up with a little cry. Mom would spit on my injury and I’d motor on. Maybe Mom’s spit was magic; I haven’t tried that recently as I live across the country from her. Seems like all the issues she’s had related to her aging, if her spit was magic, she would have used it on herself. Then again, maybe a mother’s spit only works on her children. Maybe her spit aged and lost its magic. Either way, a year off from aging would be a wonderful break for me.
Hey, kids, it looks like the flu and other diseases are rising throughout the U.S. I think it should be named the Trump Flu. Could become part of the worst epidemic in history, cuz Trump is trying to shut down healthcare systems because of Woke! DEI! Democrats. Shooting the nation in the foot as he does, of course.
Without doing intense searching, we’re talking Texas, Iowa, Georgia, Oklahoma, Florida, Virginia, Ohio, Alabama, Tennessee, Arkansas, North Dakota, Missouri, and Kentucky.
Doing the same with the Treasury pay systems. Looks like Musk is going to raid that data and enshittify that system. Suggested new word: Musktrash. It’s almost like enshittification but it’s done in the name of wanton greed and right-wing ideology.
Yes, it is a billionaire oligarchy takeover of the government. Too many fools voted for that Trump. Now Musk is moving in to make a grab on Trump’s behalf.
What can go wrong? Well, I’m sure we’ll see more FAFO stories emerging fast next week after more ICE raids, more executive orders, more flu news, higher inflation as his tariffs land, and another attempt by Trump’s government to cut off funding.
It’s a potpourri of offerings and updates. Nothing important. Just sharing.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white wonder floof, had some issues this morning. I heard him in the litter box at a quarter to daylight this morning. The familar tones of him puking followed. I rose to check it out and soon learned that he was constipated. After comforting him, I warmed water and gave him a few CCs of that via syringe. Next, warmed water and made a slurry out of his kibble, which he eagerly took in. Finally, warmed water, mixed it with a Churro bisque and fed him a few CCs of that. Meanwhile, in his wanderings, three small, hard stools were released. After these treatments, he retired to his litter box and had a large bowel movement. Then he acted normal. But this is a warning shot; I need to shift his diet and ensure he’s eating more wet food. I’d noticed that since his teeth have been removed, that’s been a problem for him. I’m also picking up some cat laxative to keep on hand, just in case.
My healing continues, and my edema issues are improving. I’ve been experiencing bi-lateral edema. Started a few years ago, in conjunction with an obstructed bladder caused by an enlarged prostat. Ankle surgery last fall made it worse on my right leg and foot. I focus on reducing the swelling by day’s end every day. Here in general is what I’ve done.
Increased hydration. I’m drinking a ton of water a day. Peeing a lot, too.
Reduced alcohol and coffee.
Reduced my sodium intake. Banished any lunch meat from my lips. Bacon and sausage, which I never consumed much in the first place. Breads were cut back. Swore off most sauces and all salad dressings. Almost completely cut out butter. Eating more raw fruits and veggies. I consult labels for sodium content before buying or consuming.
Massage a CBD lotion into my legs, ankles, and feet each morning and evening. I follow the contours of my muscles, ligaments, tendons, and bones. This seems to help my blood and lymph flow.
Wear compression socks during the day. I typically have them on for about ten hours.
Elevate my feet. Each night I lie on my back with my feet up on the wall for 30 to 40 minutes. I exercise my legs, feet, and toes during this time. I then also elevate my right ankle further during the night.
Exercise several times a day to raise my heartbeat. Significant emphasis is given to moving my legs and feet. Besides brisk walking, I stretch and flex, plank for a minute, wallsit three times a day for a minute at a time, run in place, and do some light free weights.
Bought and wear orthopedic footwear.
This all seems to be paying off. My left limb and foot doesn’t swell much during the day at all. The swelling on my right foot, ankle, and leg is completely gone by each morning. Although it slowly swells during the day, the swelling isn’t as heavy. My mobility, strength, and flexibility have all improved, IMO, based on the exercises and my observations. I commence my lymph-edema massage therapy next week.
My wife and I both like to do word games like Connections, Spelling Bee, Wordle, and Hurdle. Each day, we talk about how easy or hard the games were for us. We also laugh about how we sometimes screw up. For example, with Wordle and Hurdle, you’re guessing a five letter word. You have six guesses. Correct letters show up in green. Letters which are in the word but in the wrong location are in gold or yellow. It’s humorous but irritating to realize after making some guesses that we’ve overlooked or have forgotten to use a letter in yellow in our guesses. It’s like, “OMG, I had a N in yellow that I forgot! What is wrong with me?”
It was a strange coffee shop morning. My back against one wall, the tables were full of chatting couples. Eavesdropping, I realized that of the four closest tables to me, all four couples were generally a counselor meeting with a client doing therapy sessions. I’ve noticed three of the couples at the coffee shop before. Heard several of them talking about their partner’s drug issues or their own health issues, both mental and physical. I rarely feel a need to talk to another about my issues. Then again, I often write about that shit.
Went for my lymphedema massage assessment the other day. Wednesday. This was driven by my ankle surgery. My edema causes too much swelling for my surgically debrided tendon to fully heal. In their assessment, the sharp young Anastasia declared I had “secondary lymphedema stage 2” because my swelling wasn’t going down overnight. In her notes, she wrote, “Patient currently lacks the knowledge and ability to independently manage current symptoms for this chronic progressive condition.”
Well, WTF. I was insulted. And pissed.
Which was the kick in the ass I needed. I commenced wearing my compression socks almost 24/7. Rested on my back with legs elevated three times a day for twenty minutes at a time yesterday. Increased my exercise and took up the intensity. And increased hydration yet more.
It paid off. This morning, the swelling in my feet, ankles, and calves had dropped. My legs, ankles and feet all had re-assumed their normal size and shape. Sure, it’s temporary, because, as I go through the day, the swelling will commence. I’m wearing my compression socks, though. And, I’ll need to continue to deeply hydrate, elevate my legs, and exercise.
“Lacks knowledge and ability to independently manage current symptoms.” Hah. I’ll show them. I begin my Complex decongestive therapy (CDT) next month. Monday, Wednesday, Friday for four weeks. Two things to cheer: the service is available to me and my insurance covers it.
G’ mornin’, peeps of the online written word. It’s 2024’s final Monday, December 20, 2024. To celebrate, my other and I will go out for brekkie after she returns from her exercise class. Then we’ll do some groc shopping. Breakfast will be had at Crackin & Stackin in downtown Medford, I think.
It’s 33 F outside. Sunshine and clouds war again. Blue sky wins as the sun prevails. The ground is wet but drying for the moment after a few days of rain on a heavier scale and flooding in other parts of the county. No rain is forecast for the next two days. Today’s high will be 43 F.
I experienced vigorous, positive dreams last night and that’s put me in a solidly upbeat mood. Seeing sunshine reinforced it. Also contributing is that my foot/ankle are happier, and I had a lengthy solid if interesting writing outing yesterday.
Spoke with Mom on the phone last night. Says she’s feelin’ tired. Not surprising. Holidays always sap. Like many, it pushes her out of her comfortable returns. Now at 89, with several major health issues as part of her history, her energy is low, and every day is a new exploration of something in her body contending for attention. Her other, Frank, is doing great, she said. He’ll be 95 next month.
However, one of my younger sisters now has the flu. She is the Trumper who has had COVID three times. Believe she vaccinated before but she reportedly has underlying lung issues. She won’t tell anyone deets so we rumble about what it is. Her husband, a year younger than moi, went through open heart surgery a few years ago and is now dealing with kidney stones.
One of my other younger sister’s boyfriend lost his brother. But 66 years old, the man had a stroke and then a heart attack. Home alone while his wife was away visiting family in another state for the holidays, he was found on the kitchen floor after a day. Rushed to the hospital, he was pronounced dead and was removed from life support. He passed away yesterday morning.
Meanwhile, the boyfriend himself went into the hospital Friday for some scans after he complained about feeling ill and not breathing right. Turns out that he was experiencing congestive heart failure a 56 years old, astonishing us all. He’s 56 and is a regular runner. Those who saw him on Christmas thought he looked healthy and fit. It’s the way of life, I guess.
All that news and subsequent thinking gave permissions to The Neurons to introduce Joni Mitchell into the morning mental music stream (Trademark aging) with “The Circle Game”. A simple song, very poetic.
Coffee downed, here we go, putting another Monday into the books. Have the best you can, right? Don’t know how the next day will change your expectations.
This is Sunda, December 29, 2024. Yes, we have sunshine. Been a few days since its lights tickled our eyes. Poured last night, prompting a flood advisory for our county, although our town was spared. Lifting and breaking up this morning, the clouds are permitted full view of the low mountains around us. Yes, they’re all still there. 43 F now, a high of 43 F and light rain showers are expected today. This is a welcome change from yesterday, where the air became smeary with fog, mist, and rain.
Papi the ginger blade, aka Butter Butt and the floof previously known as Meep, has been shedding a lot this year. He’s always liked to pretend that he’s a wild animal tolerating domestic pleasures, so he spends time outside even though it’s been sheeting rain. Drives us nuts because we want him in and safe, but he’s perfected the noises and activities that drive us to the precipice of sanity. Reaching it, we give in with a shout and let him out. We’re trying to figure out if there’s reason to his heavy shed load. Is it because it’s not as cold as it usually gets? Does it have to do with the heavier rain load than usual? We don’t know. I plan to inquire about their cats’ shedding from others locally who live with cats.
An energetic, upbeat mood has a grip on my psyche today. I’ve avoided news so far to sustain the mood. It’s fired by a dream about a blues concert that transformed into an erotic dream as a woman seduced. Woo hoo. Good to have one of those every now and again. BTW, I took a kazoo with me to the blues concert and played it.
Weird confluence of music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flourishing). First came Cher with “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)”. Sonny Bono wrote the song and it was released in 1966. Whatever convoluted reasons The Neurons had for bringing this song up weren’t being peeled back.
Just as I finished puzzling over that, The Neurons introduced Peter Gabriel with “Sledgehammer” from 1986. Like, “Huuuhhhh? Why is that in my head?” The Neurons remained mute on their reasoning. Musing between the two songs, I was leaning toward Cher’s.
Then, walking about, doing morning exercises, I was contemplating where my foot is hurting. Nothing from the ankle where I had my surgery hurt. No, it was hurting proximal to the lateral metatarsals on the right side, what we often call the little toe or the pinky toe, really, phalanges three, four, and five. They dislike bending down post surgery. CBD topical cream working in concert with Salon Pas heating pads alleviate some of the pain and stiffness. The stiffness is more problematic than the pain, and I realize that it’s the cause of my antalgic limp. Just one of those things to work through.
Anyway, from that course of thinking arose The Police with “King of Pain” from 1983. The connection is that where they sing, “That’s my soul up there” in the background chorus, I used to believe they sang, “That’s my source of pain,” in a classic mondegreen goof.
That’s my morning. Coffee has hit the spot. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s raining again. Alexa notified me at 8 PM (or 2000 hours if you prefer) that it was going to start raining near me, starting around 12 AM and going intermittently until 8 PM. About 1.3 inches of rain was expected.
I was listening to the rain hitting the roof, pinging off the vents, splattering the windows, and asked, “Is it raining now?”
“Rain is expected to start at 9:30 PM.”
“Alexa, feedback. It’s 8 PM and it’s raining now.”
Rainy, gray, it’s warmish again, 50 F with a high of 52 F suggested and a low of 46 F. The gray light slanting in through the windows does nada to brighten my mood. Fog swirls around mountain pines and peaks. Dark and pretty in a tragic “Wuthering Heights” sort of fashion.
A perusal of news headlines has me opimistic for 2025. (Yes, that was snark.) Things like the costs of owning and driving a car are jumping. This was a California story. The average price paid for a new car was over $47K. Now it’s jumped to over $52K. And insurance is climbing as well. Again, it’s California, but what happens in California usually ripples out. And, this is before any PINO Trump tariffs are issued.
Then a jolly story covered how the Alum Rock school district is closing or consolidating schools. Oh, boy, let me quit reading that.
Another story told me eggs, already pricy, are going up because of the bird flu. And a related news article informed me that animals were dying from being infected with the bird flu from eating tainted meat.
Next came a recounting that those anti-vaxxing efforts in Louisana are having an effect. Louisana is seeing cases of the flu climb. Surprised? No. They’re one of two states in a ‘Very High ILI’ category. The other state is…Oregon.
What? My state. WTF? Chasing that down, I learn, gosh, vaccinations for COVID-19, RSV, and the flu are trailing data from last year, which was already trailing data from the year before. So the flu, etc., are up.
Grrrrrreat. Yes, that is sarcasm.
I got out of the news before I turned to the national and international scenes. Mood was cratered enough, thanks.
The Neurons already had music picked out and going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). “Forty Days and Forty Nights” is a 1956 blues number by Muddy Waters. The Neurons had it in my head solely on the line, “Sun shinin’ all day long, but the rain keep falling down.” Yes, it hasn’t been forty solid days if I judge on empirical evidence; it just feels like it to the wife, me, and others who engage in conversations about the weather. The ground is saturated. Rivers and creeks are up. Flooding is possible. On the possy side, our drought seems over for our part of Oregon. Other parts of the state remain abnormally dry.
Could be worse, I remind myself. We are not snowbound, etc.
The Forty Days version I selected was a Steppenwolf cover. Mom bought me the album, Steppnwolf 7, for Christmas in 1970, when the song and I were both fourteen. It has sentimenal attachments to me, see.
Okay, coffee and I have worked out an arrangement for this morning whereby I’ll brew it and pour it into my mouth and swallow. Seems like I’m doing all the work here, but I benefit from it. I don’t think coffee gets anything except perhaps some emotional satisfaction from helping me through the day. Here’s the music. Cheers
I am not a seer, though I often portray one online. But I have some thoughts coalescing around some inputs.
I think the start of PINO Trump in 2025 will be heralded by a huge spike in COVID-19. Deaths won’t be as numerous as before but it will be disruptive. It will affect the economy.
Sidebar: PINO Trump sounds like a bad wine, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I suspect the spike is already underway but will become bigly pronounced next year. First I learned that my sister, a staunch Trumper, has just finished her third dance with COVID. Then I found that two other local couples, non-Trumpers, were down with COVID. Next, I discovered that a local business had to close its doors due to a COVID outbreak.
Yes, this is all anecdotal. Small sample. But combine that with the virulent anti-vax/’COVID hoax’ manifested in the MAGA wing, a position now being empowered in the PINO’s cabinet choices, and the setup for disaster is complete.
The new United Healthcare Group CEO, Andrew Witty, has said that the United States’s healthcare system is ‘flawed’.
“No one would design a system like the one we have. And no one did. It’s a patchwork built over decades. Our mission is to help make it work better,” Witty said in a New York Times op-ed published Friday morning, titled “The Health Care System Is Flawed. Let’s Fix It.”
Sure, no one would design a system whereby greedy execs would bow to shareholders and increase profits, stock prices, dividends, and executive bonuses keep increasing their wealth at the cost to the health of the customers who depend on it. That’s why such a system is a rarity in the United States among industries. Yes, that was enriched snark.
Here comes more snark. And, gosh, it must be really hard to fix it. Witty’s predecessor, the late Brian Thompson, had ‘only been with’ United Healthcare for twenty years. As part of his efforts to fixed that flawed system, the company saw profits increase from $12,000,000,000 in 2021 to $16,000,000,000 in 2023, which covers Thompson’s time as CEO.
“As Brian Thompson’s family, friends and colleagues mourn his killing, we are bearing a grief and sadness we will carry for the rest of our lives. Grief for the family he leaves behind. And grief for a brilliant, kind man who was working to make healthcare better for everyone,” Witty wrote.
Undoubtably, Thompson’s work work to fixed that flawed service was making progress, judging from the story shared on Diane Ravitch’s blog about the women being denied benefits by the healthcare giant.
I am sure that Witty will carry on Thompson’s ‘good work’. I expect a slow rollout of those improvements, a very, very, very slow rollout.
Michael Seidel, writer 