Tag: health

Twofer Dreams

I had two memorable dreams last night.

The first came to me in red and black. It was all seen in silhouettes. As short and simple as its color palette, I was going for a run. Going less than twenty to thirty yards, I encountered a force field which wouldn’t let me go further. Annoyed, I turned and ran back the other way, past my house, only to be stopped by another force field. Three times this happened. At that point dream thinking burbled up, I’m not supposed to go further. I guess ‘they’ want me to stay home to get better. Wait, am I sick?

After awakening and pondering that one for a few dark minutes, I rolled back into sleep and to another dream. In this one, I wore a blue and white checked shirt with blue jeans. A teenager, I was visiting a girl, blonde, bubbly, friendly. I was attracted to her, so this was essentially the early days of courting to see if she had any interest in me.

She became friendly and flirtatious. We didn’t kiss or anything, but I went home pleased and then returned the next day. At the end of this visit, it was suggested that I stay the night there as a precaution against something going on that wasn’t clear. I wasn’t real comfortable with that but the girl and her Mom convinced me. Stripping down to my undies, I slept on their game room sofa. The game room was essential a finished basement. After spending the night, I dressed, thinking that I’d go back home now. But no, the girl had plans for the day. We stayed at her house but I only saw her off and on.

Now I was becoming concerned about her father. He’d been gone but was now back. I didn’t relish encountering him in the early morning, especially in clothes which I’d been wearing for several days while trying to get romantic with his daughter. Instead of leaving the game room, I stayed down there in hiding. By now I’d convinced myself that I needed to get home and was plotting how to sneak away.

Guests arrived. I eavesdropped, learning that they were neighboring women who were friends with the mother. It was mentioned in passing that I was staying there. I guessed that something had happened at my house and this was a ruse to keep me here. They all agreed that I was a ‘very nice boy, very smart and kind’, and that this was better for me. Wanting to know what was going on, I slipped out and headed home through a sunsplashed fall day where all the trees had already lost their leaves. The change of season was a surprise; I thought it was summer.

Dream end.

0

And Another Thing…

It’s a little rant…

The Evidation website’s FAQs, contact information, and other details are on the page’s bottom. But each time I scroll down, more history of what I’ve done is brought up. The net is, I can never reach the page’s bottom. Exasperation reaches sufficient levels after less than half a minute of trying that I I throw my hands up.

Screw that. Things like that are so frustration. I have better things to do than cultivate more frustration coping with their poor design.

0

The Update

I live in Ashland, in southern Oregon. Events drove me east, to where Mom and several sisters reside in the Pittsburgh, PA area. On Friday, September 10, I took the redeye to Pittsburgh. Already down with COVID, Mom suffered a perforated appendix and also had COVID pneumonia, and was in Forbes Hospital, demanding morphine and fighting against being intubated. They moved her to a step down unit for more intensive monitoring and care, and was in isolation. Masks, gloves, and gowns were required to visit her, only two visitors at a time.

She’s recovered a lot since then. With antibiotics and treatment, her COVID subsided. The appendix perforation closed. Her pacemaker had only been working at less than 20%, so that was also a problem, as was a blood clot. The blood clot ended up in her spleen, which they said was okay, and her heart and pacemaker both increased to 50 % function. Pleased with her progress, she was discharged from the hospital last Monday and moved to a nursing home.

She liked the nursing home, Concordia. Physical therapy began. They told her she’d probably be there two to six weeks. That was pared down to two yesterday.

They released her today.

That surprised me. Apparently what precipitated it was a night of hell for her. Hearing about it, my sisters grew angry and charged down there.

You do not want to be in their way when my sisters are angry, especially if their family is involved. Move out of their way and in front of an oncoming bullet train. You’ll be safer.

Mom’s NoH included being abruptly taken off oxygen at midnight and not monitored. The night nurse had an attitude for whatever reason. She didn’t want to help Mom with her CPAC for sleeping and threw Mom’s phone on the floor. Mom’s door was open all night as another patient roamed the halls shouting, “I have a gun. I’m going to come in there and kill you.”

I’ve been staying at Mom’s house with her 92-year-old boyfriend, Frank, a great guy, but very passive, and under Mom’s control. Mom is 85. Her house was built eighty years ago. The steps are narrow and steep. It’s not built for a frail woman to get around and recover.

But this is why I’m here. I came here because it might’ve been time to say good-bye to Mom. I came here to give my sisters and Frank relief and support. Now I’ll be here to help give Mom care in her home. I don’t know what train of circumstances and logic led to the surprising decision that she’s being released today. It sounds like a crazy train, in my uninformed thinking. It’s a fluid situation. The sisters are racing back to the nursery home to learn more and, as necessary, help Mom get home. Per their thinking, I’m here, waiting for Mom to arrive in case my sisters don’t arrive in time.

Coffee is on. I think we’ll need a few cups. Here we go.

6

The Escape Dream

My wife and I were driving through the night. I did all the driving. It was a dark, intermittently wet experience but steady progress. We made it to where we wanted to go. As sunrise rinsed out the night, we found a different, larger vehicle to carry us on, and took on supplies. I packed the supplies in different containers. We emptied the one car, and I put everything in the other car. We were traveling with cats and had a litter box. I cleaned it out and then, for some reason, put the bags of used litter on the floor behind a seat. A cat was curled up in that location, apparently asleep, but I then realized he was dead. It was Quinn, who in RL, died of cancer several years ago.

With the new vehicle packed up, we went across the compound to shower. Suddenly naked, I squatted down in the sunshine, waiting for my turn. My wife stood beside me as I waited. We talked while this happened, feeling good about where we were and where we were going. People randomly passed by, taking no notice. I picked a scab off my leg.

The dream ended.

0

Always In Threes, Right?

Remember when famous folks used to die, a myth sprang up that it always opened in threes? Also, some writers ascribe to a rule to always do things in threes. (Yeah, I’m not up to explaining that for now. Google it.)

Well, I had a kinda rough day. Three more or less bad things happened.

  1. They only have decaf in the house. I’ve survived by going out and buying a large cuppa each morning. But —
  2. Tested positive for COVID today after I spent a few hours visiting mom. Fully masked the entire time. Been masking whenever I went public. And only decaf in the house where I’m isolating. No one to take care of me, neither. (Waaah.)
  3. Checked my credit card online today and found fraudulent purchases. Reported them but that means I need new cards.

So, you know, end of day. At least Mom is getting better (but will be in the hospital for another four to six weeks). Others I’ve been in contact with are negative. I have mild sore throat, mild headache. Don’t know about a fever because the thermometer’s battery is dead. My sister did say she’d bring some coffee by for me. She’s such a sweetheart.

Have a good one. Cheers

1

The Jab Dream

I was at a gray counter. A white man was across from me. About my size, he was younger but balding, with thin hair slashed and slicked over that glistening pale dome. He wore a wide dark tie with a red pattern, a starched white shirt, and a white KN 95 mask. Leaning on the counter, I said something to him. In response, he jabbed an index finger into my forehead and barked, “Heal.” Did this three times. Each time, I reacted in irritation, like, “Stop jabbing me, that hurts.”

I awoke with a sore throat.

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Pittsburgh is tucked into a light gray blanket this morning. Sunrise was at 6:57 AM but the sun is taking it easy behind the clouds. Sunset is anticipated at 7:36 this evening.

It’s September 11, 2022, in America.

Muggy 20 degrees C weather lays on me. The air is fine, a green 18 according to Purple Air. No smoke. Deer strolled across the lawn, mama, two yearlings, and a fawn. Mama eyed me like, “Who are you? I don’t know your smell.” The rest nibbled and chewed.

As I left the hospital yesterday, I heard someone tell another in the parking lot, “Don’t let the world bring you down.” The Neurons nibbled on that overnight and then brought Soundgarden and “Blow Up the Outside World” (1996) into the morning mental music stream. It’s a little harsh for a quiet Sunday morning, I told them. They didn’t care. The Neurons follow their own paths.

Stay positive and test negative. Hope you find joy and satisfaction in this day. Yes, I’ve had coffee, thanks. Had to help overcome the three-hour shift from my normal times. Here’s the music. Off to visit Mom in the hospital. She’s doing much better, thanks, but danger remains. Cheers

0

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

Sipping coffee, he watched the morning sky drizzle soft rain over the grass and trees. Mom was in the hospital. Her house was quiet in a different way. It wasn’t the house he grew up in. No, he was years gone when she found and purchased this house. She and the house shared a character. They’d spent years together. Feeling like the house missed her, he told the house what was going on, so it wouldn’t worry.

It was the least he could do for such a kind house.

0

The Ziopatch

Well, Day one begins.

A Ziopatch was applied to my chest this morning. This was an option my medico presented to me after I’d commented during a meeting earlier this year that I sometimes have heart palpitations. Fact of it is that I’ve experienced these since I was at least a teenager. I actually thought that everyone had them. I mentioned them to another who replied, “I’ve never had that. You should go see a doctor.”

That was in my twenties. Now that I’m in my sixties, I felt time had ripened enough to check it out.

The Zio is just a little thing. Applying it took five minutes. Longest part of that was shaving me. I’m a hairy beast. Don’t know which parento I owe for that. After the left side was shaved above my nip, my skin was lightly abraded so the Z’s adhesive can find purchase. Then it was taped on and explained. Done.

I’ll wear the booger for fourteen days, in theory. The tech and the intertubes both hold that might be a challenge. Getting the Z’s adhesive wet by sweat or water causes the device to come away. One guy on the net said that he’d been told, “excessive sweat might cause that.” He learned that ‘excessive sweat’ is any visible sweat.

Meanwhile, it feels like there’s something on my chest. I have an urge to swat it off, like, “WTH is on my chest?” It also feels a little itchy, as others said they experienced.

Once it is removed, I throw the Z into the air. It spreads its wings and flies off to the factory where it’ll be dissected. Not really! They gave me a box in which to mail it off so its contents can be revealed.

We’ll see how it goes. I’ll let you know when I take it off. Cheers

1

The CBD Experiment

My wife suffers from autoimmune issues that end up expressing as RA. Inflammation, swelling, and pain flare up without warning. Hips, back, jaw, fingers, hands, feet, back. Nothing is immune from autoimmune problems.

It’s not a new issue for her, starting back in 1998. It wearies her, of course, and frustrates me. All I can do is support her, and that just doesn’t feel and sound like much.

She’s gone through meds but as anyone who is prescribed meds knows, everything has a side-effect. Many meds cause their own problems, burning through other organs, upsetting digestive systems, etc. In her mid-sixties, she’s been a vegetarian or vegan for over forty years, for many reasons. As her RA progressed, she eliminated more and more foods. She keeps a food journal. Fats were strenuously reduced. Salmon was embraced. We’ve always eaten steamed vegetables, particularly broccoli and brusse sprouts, and roasted asparagus, so we just stayed the course with those. Black beans form a large component of our meals. Alcohol was gone, but she was never much of a drinker. Dairy, especially cheese, which she loves, was eliminated. Tomatoes (another favorite) followed. Sugar. Then she kicked the meds because the side effects were too deleterious. She’s always been a staunch supporter of work outs and exercising and has been a jazzercise enthusiast and weightlifter for over forty years. She puts a lot into both and has been asked by the jazzercise instructor to fill in and lead classes.

That’s the thumbnail sketch. With her diet restrictions, off the meds, she’s been doing well, and even improving. Know how it is, though, right? Something flares up, causing pain and problems.

That brings us to CBDs.

Friends of mine are CBD advocates. They and their wives use CBD and other cannabidiols such as CBA and CBG to cope with their health issues, particularly inflammation and arthritis, sometimes in conjunction with THC, sometimes with mushrooms, but usually with wine or beer. All are pleased with the results. A few raved about CBD with THC to sleep at night. Edibles such as gummies, easily obtained and ingested, garnered particular praise.

So I collected info from friends regarding brands, habits, dosages, and side-effects, and brought that to my wife. She did further research. Purchases were made. She took her first, Wyld Blackberry 25 mg CBD gummies. “How was it?” I asked the next day.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “And I didn’t feel anything for the pain, swelling, or inflammation.” She showed me her crooked finger, with its red, swollen joint.

I have minor inflammation, mostly afflicting my intestines. While I address restoring my biome’s balance through diet and probiotics, I thought I’d give the CBD a try.

“How was it?” my wife asked the next day.

“Great. Felt almost an immediate relief. I was really impressed.”

A low growl came from my wife’s direction. I may have imagined that. She tried the CBD again that day and experienced the same results.

Research was pursued. She determined, she believes, that she’s one of those people who suffer increased anxiety from CBD, and no relief.

For the heck of it, we tried other gummy variations, and also gave CBG a try. Same results for her. Which just sucks, you know? Meanwhile, I thrived on it.

But that’s how our bodies are, individualistic and unequal, following paths and micro-paths which we don’t fully understand, sometimes forged by genetics, but also by small biological quirks. That’s part of the life experience, understanding what your body is doing, trying to understand why, struggling to address your own unique needs and issues. The wildest aspect is that the body is always changing, and the hunt for understanding doesn’t end until we cease to breathe.

And that is life.

5

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑