Just learned today that a good friend, a few years older than me, is suffering dementia. I’ve been through this with other friends in the last twenty years, so I’m loaded with expectations. Most of them aren’t good. But medical technology keeps advancing and I hope that my buddy and his family don’t endure what many others have gone through.
Today is Thursday, January 11, 2024. Snow flew through the skies all day yesterday except for one fifteen minute period. Other than that whenever I looked out, it was coming down.
The temperature rose, though, so the snow was melting, and the plow truck had passed through multiple times, so the roads were clear. An ice danger remained in shadowy parts. Always does.
Then, three o’clock, the temperature dropped and a new snow assault began. I don’t know when it ended but we have eight inches in my area/elevation this morning. But the sun is shining, and blue skies are seeping through the thinning grey clouds, so it’s a gorgeous winter morning. Was 29 F when I got up. Now it’s 37. 44 is expected to be the upside. Rain is supposedly on its way but right now, no rain clouds are in sight.
The day started badly for me with a prolonged bout of BPPV – Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo. Basically, crystals in your ears responsible for your balance break loose and wreak havoc. Bursts of vertigo result, with nausea and vomiting. It’s more prevalent in people over sixty and more women experience it than men.
I’ve never had it before, but it came on strong. Just after midnight, as we were closing shop, I experienced sharp vertigo when I moved my head. Everything in my vision bounced around me and I thought I’d blacked out for a second because of its intensity. Asking myself, “What the fuck was that,” I observed it again and again. Meanwhile, my left ear was ringing. I began getting hot. Within seconds, sweat covered me, beading on my face. Simultaneously, a feeling was growing in my solar plexus. I thought I was getting hungry and was amused because we’d had an excellent dinner, but no; I was getting ready to refund dinner.
Feeling the vomiting sensation rising with tsunami-like intensity, I lurched for the bathroom. Vertigo crashed over me with every step. I hung onto walls and furniture, pinballing from piece to piece to stay upright. I just made it to the commode. Then violent vomiting began. My wife hurried in to get the story but I couldn’t speak, as my mouth was busy with the heaving for five minutes.
When that segment ended, I gasped out my symptoms and she charged to her computer to see what could be learned. Moving my head, I had another violent five minute session. My wife reported that she thought it was BPPV, which she’d once experienced. She also had several friends endure her, so she has so familiarity with it. With her help, I went supine to the bathroom floor. She brought me a pillow.
I didn’t want to stay on the bathroom floor. By now, my body was shaking. Deciding to try to get up, I went into another V2 – vertigo/vomiting – episode, though little was in my stomach. Didn’t matter. I simply retched and retched. Now convinced by my weakness, shaking, vertigo, and vomiting to not move, I hung onto the commode and bathtub and obeyed the illness’s commands.
My wife came in and told me about the Home Epley Maneuver to cope with BPPV. I resolved to try it but learned that any head movement fired up the vertigo, followed by puking and shaking. My body’s sharp spasms almost caused me to almost defecate in my sleepwear. I recognized that I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
It was now 1:45; I’d been enduring this for over 100 minutes and it didn’t seem to be getting any better. I couldn’t stay where I was, I decided, because new visions of vertigo and a need for sleep fed fears of my head or mouth crashing into the porcelain surrounding me. I told my wife I needed her help to move, and outlined my plan to go to the office, and sit still in there in a chair under covers, and maybe sleep until this passed. I’d take a small waste basket with me. She came up with the idea of bringing in my wheeled-desk chair so I wouldn’t need to walk, because the vertigo and its follow-on consequences lit up with every movement.
That worked. Pulling in a second chair, my feet were elevated and the blanket put on me. Then I clutched the wastebasket to my chest and dry-heaved for a couple minutes. She went to bed and I slumbered off and on in the chair, puking a few more times. Thinking that I was tired of holding the waste basket on my chest, I eased it to the floor. That induced another round of vertigo and puking.
At 5 AM, I needed to pee. Rising and walking with the stiffness and gait Frankenstein’s monster, I took care of business but kept my head movement to a minimum. My body expressed some interest in puking but they were mild and I suppressed them. The moving actually seemed to help. My sleeping position had been uncomfortable, so I rearranged things into a more comfortable position and turned on the television for companionship, streaming some old show. No more puking was endured and sleep finally came. I didn’t wake up until 8:30 and felt much better.
I did the Epley Maneuvers a little while ago. I’m still shaky and tired, and leery of eating anything. My wife made me a smoothie for breakfast and now, here I sit, intermittently searching the net for more info about BPPV.
The Neurons, always ready with a sick sense of humor, started playing “Dizzy” by Tommy Roe from 1969 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark crashed) because of my vertibo bouts. I know the song well. My stepfather when the song came out was George. He had two daughters. The oldest one was nicknamed Dizzy, so when the song came out, she adopted it as her theme music.
Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. No coffee yet today; just water (dehydrated this morning, for some reason) and the smoothie. Here’s the music. Cheerio
I’m a retired military veteran and over sixty-five years old. That combo means my health insurance is through a hybrid product that requires me to sign up for Medicare A & B when I turned 65. Mediacare provides primary coverage to me and my wife; TriCare for Life (TFL, officially known on the web as TriCare4Life) gives us secondary coverage. It’s not a bad deal. It isn’t free; my wife and I both pay for Part B.
What made my coffee taste more bitter than usual was a bill from my provider received this month. They said I owed them over a hundred dollars for lab work and that TFL hadn’t paid anything. Egged on by my other, that sent me into a tizzy of indignation. A website I found said, yep, TFL doesn’t pay for preventive lab work. This made no friggin’ sense and only urged me to greater outrage.
I logged into the various systems this week to find answers. Not finding satisfaction there, I was forced to *gag* call them and speak to people. I have nothing against people or talking but I dislike phones and bureaucracies. Girding myself with a mug of stout dark goodness, I called T4L. After providing evidence of who I am and waiting a few minutes, I was connected to Derek.
I explained it all to him and proved who I am to him. Derek began ferreting through the systems for more about my grievance. I logged into my provider portal and dug out more details. Shame on me, but only then did I realize that this bill was for services from May of 2022. That just seemed wild that I’m dealing with that over eighteen months later.
Derek looked into it and discovered that T4L didn’t pay it because Asante, who did the work, didn’t send an EOB for the Medicare part that was paid. “Have more coffee and call the provider,” Derek advised.
Thanking him for his assistance and wishing him a good day and Merry New Year, I did so. After providing evidence about who I am and a short wait, Karen heard my tale. “Interesting,” she said. “We show that T4L denied the claim.”
What?
She went on to tell me it’d been rejected three times and that’s why they were now billing me. “Let me contact the insurance section and confirm they sent the needed EOB,” she went on. “I’m going to email them now.” She typed away while I listened to keyboard clickety-clack. “There,” she said. “Now we’ll see what happens. Your bill is due next week but ignore that. If you get another bill or notice asking for payment, give us a call to check on the status, okay?”
Sure. I thanked Karen, wished her good day and Happy New Year, hung up and wrote up my notes. Now I wait, but I feel optimistic about the outcome. The whole thing only took one hour.
Last night’s dream had me alone and reclined in a large black chair in a dim black and gray room, which seemed to be my home office. The lights moved around me like dull spotights. I felt almost conscious but caught in some vague vortex. The room spun and flipped upside down, confusing my orientation. I became warm and flushed. Trying to awaken, I wondered if this was real or a dream. Both felt correct. I don’t think it lasted more than ninety seconds. When it ended, I seemed to drop into a deep sleep.
Awakening this morning, I was amazed by how well I felt. Refreshed, with a high energy level, and invigorated mind. No pain or stiffness anywhere. It felt like I’d been mystically treated for my health challenges while I slept. I don’t know how long this feeling, like I’m ten years younger or me, will continue, but I will enjoy it as long as I can.
After greeting us with sunshine this morning, Sunday, October 22, 2023, has served non-stop rain to Ashlandia, where the fresh air is never canned and the drivers are extra-distracted.
Well, first, my apologies. I’m glum today, even irritated and moody. This is due to my illness. It’s plagued me for over two weeks. Nothing deep nor serious, just enough to be bothersome. After convincing myself I was rid of it, the sore throat, lethargy, and headache parts all stormed back. Just depressing, you know? And irritating.
And frustrating. Did I mention that? I’d entertained visions of industrious editing and revising and this damn sickness just undercut all intentions. I’ve been gritting my teeth in a struggle to will myself through it. Instead, I just want to sit back, feeling sorry for myself, reading and chilling. Heavy sigh emerges after I acknowledge and type that.
I’ve tried to edit and revise twice; it’s a challenge today. Some of this is because I’m dealing with a very abstract notion toward the novel’s end. I’m attempting to transition it from its abstract roots into something real and authentic. Patience, deep thinking, and persistence are needed, and I’m struggling to generate those today.
Today’s theme music is “Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden. I came up with this by myself, without The Neurons’ help. It came about from watching clouds move in and overwhelm the morning sunshine, undermining my enthusiasm for the day. These days come, of course. It’s not necessarily indicative of anything except a crappy-ish day. It’ll pass.
Meanwhile, I’ve always enjoyed “Black Hole Sun”. It comes across as a declaration to me. The words are sort of contradictory — “Black hole sun, won’t you come, and wash away the rain” — but that somehow springs some defiant hope in me. Perhaps it’s just the plaintive way it first comes across before exploding with brashness, a tone and mood reinforced with hard guitar chords and rolling drums. Besides those elements, weariness is wired into the verses such as this one:
It’s a stream of consciousness of spent energy, which is much how I feel today. I should warn you, it’s a bizarre video.
Stay pos — at least more positive than me, please — and be strong. I’m trying to move forward; hope you do as well. More coffee, please, black as the sun, hot as ice. Here’s the music. Cheers
We’ve gravitated to Wednesday, October 18, 2023. Will it be one of those days? you ask. Thinking about what’s going on, I wonder as well. How will this day be remembered by us in five years and more? History will have one perspective, and each of us will have our own variation of what this day was like in hindsight, just as we do with absolutely everything that happens.
I believe that in a year, this day will be lost in the existential mud for me.
It’s 61 F with fog out there in Ashlandia, where the rockers are old, and the dancers are above average. From my window’s vantage, there’s not a scintilla of fog marring the blue, sun-fed expanse. Temperatures promise to live up to the sunshine; forecasters are announcing with some pleasure, it’s going to be in the low eighties today.
I was thinking about how difficult getting out of bed was when I was sick during the last two weeks. Every day was worse until something broke on Sunday. Then it gradually improved until it’s much better today.
The Neurons heard me thinking. That inspired them to inspire me with “Moving in Stereo” by The Cars in my morning mental music stream (Trademark inspired). The song’s forbidding techno beat always gives me pause. Combined with the voice inflections in the song’s early verses, it inspires robotic movements.
The words themselves capture some of the essence of my life views. I hear in them my thoughts about how we so easily succomb to our problems and often magnify them.
It’s so easy to blow up your problems It’s so easy to play up your breakdown It’s so easy to fly through a window It’s so easy to fool with the sound
[Verse 3] It’s so tough to get up It’s so tough It’s so tough to live up It’s so tough on you
[Verse 4] Life’s the same, I’m moving in stereo Life’s the same except for my shoes
I hear myself magnifying my issues in things like me muttering to myself, “I feel so sick.” Well, it’s a relative thing, innit? I was not dying, just coping with some mild to strong symptoms that affected thinking, breathing, and moving.
I ended up mocking myself about those things. I always like to see those you-are-here depictions of our planet as a miniscule dot in the galaxy, and the galaxy is a tiny dot in the universe. That restores my perspective. Or some of it. It’s a relative thing.
Stay positive, be strong, and cling to whatever optimism you can muster today. Fortified with black coffee, I will do the same.
The crescendo you might have heard earlier today was Tuesday, October 17, 2023, arriving. We’ve now passed half of the tenth month. Many are gearing up for the holiday season to launch.
It’s 53 F in Ashlandia, where the animals are feted and the people drink coffee all day. It feels curiously warm and pleasant. Forecasters expect our temperatures to crest at 71 F. We may see another degree or two at our house. Where and how we’re situated in relation to mountains and sunshine often results in a little more heat found in my space.
Beautiful out there, though, with stingy white clouds drifting through a strong azure sky and an invigorating sun.
A friend forwarded some humor to me. I plucked a few out for your morning jollies. They seem relatable to modern life and might distract us some from the wars and political messes swirling through October.
I’m feeling much better today. It’s been days since I’ve had any energy. This illness drained and wearied me, and became a stanch reminder of how often we don’t appreciate things until they’re gone. In my case, it was energy, willpower, clear thinking, and being pain free. I hope I never reach that state on a regular basis. So many people live like that with diseases and sickness. I saw it regularly when I visited Mom and witnessed her enduring and coping with multiple issues.
I also see it with my buddy, Larry, who lives on an oxygen bottle these days, Most painfully, I see it in my wife as she fights with flares of pain and stiffness delivered by her auto-immune issues. I took my own decent health too much for granted.
The Neurons have “Love Will Keep Us Together” looping in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flabbergasted). Although Neil Sedaka was co-writer and originally released it, I have the Captain and Tennille cover from 1973. As I said the last time I shared this song, back in 2018, it’s not my style but it was being played frequently on the radio stations where I lived, so I heard it all the time. I don’t know what prompted The Neurons to bring it out of the music vault but I fear I must play it for others or it will keep going around my head.
If you read a previous post this week, you might remember that my wife and I couldn’t remember what I thought I might buy Mom for her birthay. Well, one happy tidbit is that my wife pulled enough out for me to recall all the details. See, two brains are better than one.
The converasation was about genealogy. We were specifically talking about the Mayflower and William Brewster. Three of us are related to him via DNA. In my case, he would be my great-grandfather by ten. From that conversation, I thought buying Mom a gift to the General Society of Mayflower Descendants. I wonder if they shorten that to ‘the society’ or ‘the descendants’ in private conversations?
Stay positive, be strong, and keep optimistic. I’m up for coffee. Anyone else?
Monday came in for me like a snail runnin’ the hundred meters. It’s October 16, 2023.
53 F now in Ashlandia, where the wine is local and the Pinot Noir is pretty damn good. An unrelenting, unhappy wind is assailing us under a dull gray sky. Rain is due. Fall is assuming its familiar form. Leaves changed color and now they’re dropping off trees, piling up again curbs and in yards, and zipping past windows on a zephyr motor.
Birthdays are pending. Cards and gifts must be purchased and sent. October is our family’s heaviest birthday month, with one past and eight due.
Mom’s birthday is one of them. I’m not sure what to get her. Sitting and conversing at Empty Bowls on Friday, someone mentioned something. I said, “Maybe I should get that for Mom for her birthday.”
Beside me, my wife brightned. “That’s a great idea.”
Neither can remember what ‘it’ was. We’re still working on pulling it out of memory. Sometimes it takes two minds to remember things. LOL.
Still sick. Stayed in from writing yesterday. Mostly read and napped, watched some NFL football.
Sore throat is gone; yea. Energy, though, is really tanked. Like someone siphoned it away. Headache was there and ears were hurting this morning. But I drank coffee to kick start my energy. Surprise, the head and ear pains fled. So hurray for coffee, once again.
Locking into my mood, The Neurons have positioned “Ridin’ the Storm Out” by REO Speedwagon into the morning mental music stream (Trademark ignored). The 1981 song emerged when I was stationed with the Air Force on Okinawa, Japan.
Okinawa is a narrow island and subject to typhoons/tropical cyclones. These were often endured with ‘Phoon Parties’. You tape over and board over the windows with what you can find. Then you raid the booze store on base and the Commissary to buy provisions. While the aircraft were evacuated, we prepared to survive a few days, possibly without electricity.
My wife and I were fortunate in our first three years. We had a tiny off-base apartment in a tiny apartment building. The landlords lived on the bottom floor, and a dozen US couples lived in the apartments. During a ‘phoon, we could visit each other via the inside hallways, so we’d play games like Uno, or Trivial Pursuit, or visit to chat and borrows stuff.
Time to light this Monday. Stay pos, be strong, and keep well. Here’s the music. More coffee, stat. Cheers
Sunday, 10/15/2023. 66 F now, 74 F later, sunny, bluish and grayish sky with some bleak, skulking clouds, blustery.
Based on symptoms and energy level, I apparently have a cold, which is shorting my energy. Guess it’s a cold: tired, scratchy eyes. Headache. Sore throat. Some sinus congestion. Good appetite, though. Sounds like a cold, doesn’t it?
Yes, it could be something else. This all started last week, on Wednesday. I tested negative for COVID yesterday.
In honor of my physical condition, The Neurons are playing the 1977 10cc song, “You’ve Got A Cold”, carrying it on in the afternoon after starting it in my morning mental music stream (Trademark strained). They may have tapped into something, right?
Stay positive and be strong. Here’s the video. Cheers