Tag: lymphedema

Frieda’s Theme Music

If you’re feelin’ some heat, that might be cos it’s Fried-day. Not much heat to Ashlandia’s thin sunshine. Black clouds dropped in and held like smoke curling against a low ceiling. Rain has been jumpin’ in and out, heavy at times. We have jumped from 37 F to 47 F, which is about as high as we can expect. This is Frieda, March 21, 2025.

Out to a late start. Final therapy session for the lymphedema. Things lookin’ good, fingers crossed, knock wood, ‘cetera. Just gotta keep it so.

As it was an early AM appointment and it was in Medord, my wife tagged along so we could do some shoppin’. Pick up ‘sentials. That done, since we’d not eaten, we took a late lunch at a restaurant where we chowed on eggs and hash browns with coffee and toast. Then it was back home and back here and at last I’m sat up in the writin’ position. I jumped immediately in novel writing because some muse critters were hammering at things they felt needed done. With those checked off, I’m turning to posting.

Today’s song comes from offhand exchanges between the other and me. Coming into the house, we chatted about getting online “to see what the orange hooplehead has done now,” as she put it. So we were asking of our computers, what’s going on?

That exchange gave The Neurons ammo to introduce “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes to the morning mental music stream, afternoon edition. But in my search for a video, I came across a cover by Pink which took me in, so here we are.

I also offer the song as theme music for all those coping with the crap which the Trusk Regime is lading on us. As one line goes, “And I pray. Oh my God, do I pray. I pray every single day for revolution.”

Coffee and I have met up a few times today, and I’m doing fine. Hope you are, too. Onward. Courage. Cheers

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Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

Just a pause to say that I’m grateful.

I’m grateful that the medical profession has developed the knowledge, insights, and treatment for what ailed me.

I’m grateful for a medical team who guided me safely through weeks of pain through surgery and recovery.

I’m grateful that I have a house where I can take a shower, and I’m grateful for the society, civilization, and people that built the systems which enabled me to take a hot, long shower this morning.

I’m grateful that I can walk normally again, free of pain.

There’s a lot to be grateful for in my life. I’ve always been pretty fortunate. I’ve taken a lot of it for granted. So, I thought this needed to be noted. I am grateful. I may not always sound like I am, but that’s just my nature.

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Medical Update

Happily, I can share a major change for me. My right compression sock has arrived.

TL/DR: my custom sock arrived for my right leg, ankle, and foot, freeing me from the bandages I’ve been wearing. I can bath normally again.

Longer story. As background, I had a few medical setbacks starting about six years ago. It began with an enlarged prostate gland which led to a obstructed bladder and an emergency room visit. A catheter was inserted up my johnson and I wore a bag on my ankle to collect urine for a few days. Of course, I was also put on Flomax.

Around the same time, I noticed some swelling and redness around my ankles. I didn’t know it then, but edema was developing.

I then suffered two broken bones in my left arm during a DIY effort about two years later. That slowed me down. My edema worsened. I’ve always been active. I had been averaging walking eleven to thirteen miles a day. Now that dropped way down. Six became a challenge.

The edema worsened. It was affecting the skin on my lower legs, ankles, and feet.

I then somehow ruptured my right peronous longus tendon. It snapped as I was crossing a street in Oakmont, PA, in May of last years. MRIs revealed it completely severed at my ankle. It’s supposed to wrap around under my foot, but nothing remained of it on my foot’s underside. Besides pain, it created major instability for me. And it slowed me more. My edema worsened.

Surgery was done for the ruptured tendon. The surgeon removed what was left of it and sewed up the end. My surgery wouldn’t heal. Now restricted to this boot to stabilize and strengthen my ankle, I was limited to bed rest for several weeks and reduced activity. The surgery wasn’t healing becaus the edema was worsening, causing my right ankle and foot to balloon.

It was a frustrating spiral.

Along the way, the medical ‘they’ decided that I seemed to be affected with lymphedema. In abbreviated explanation, my lymph fluid was not going up the lymph vessels and was accumulating in my calves, ankles, and feet, causing the swelling. Lymphedema massage therapy to stimulate the lymph fluid flow was set up. Three times a week, I went in and had my limbs from my calves down massaged and then wrapped in cotton, foam, and elastic bandages.

I’d also done some research about my lymphedema. Following advice and guidance from the net, I sharply reduced my sodium intake and heavily increased how much water I drank each day. I also reduced coffee and alcohol consumption, and added specific exercises to combat lymphedema to my daily routines. Part of that are self-massages to stimulate lymph fluid flow. See, from what I can tell, my body doesn’t process sodium well. Sodium is often used as a binding agent in processed food. The same thing was happening to me. Sodium is probably thickening my blood and thickening my lymph (or lymphatic — they express it both ways) fluid, driving the swelling. I drink more water to thin my blood and lymph fluid. I’m still walking six miles a day.

It all seems to have worked. I began my lymphedema therapy in Feb. Within a week, the left side graduated to the custom made compression sock. It was doing very well. I still wear that sock every day, washing it each night by hand. I’ve not had any swelling on that side. They will be providing me several more custom socks for it, and the right side.

My right side, which was the side of the surgery, also quickly improved. I no longer have swelling there, either. In fact, on Feb 19, my massage therapist put in the order for the right side’s custom sock. We expected it to arrive by the end of Feb.

But it didn’t. Concerned that it was lost somewhere, I called the company who provides the sock. They confirmed that they didn’t order it for me until the end of February, nine days after the order was put in. It seems that government bureaucracy slowed its progress, as it had to be approved by the powers before the order was created.

Anyway, the right side sock arrived yesterday. I get to go to physical therapy and have it put on today. And that means, a shower. See, the bandages could not get wet. So I was not allowed showers. I could wrap the bandaged limbs in plastic garbage bags and bath in a tub with my lower legs and feet outside the tub, but man, that wasn’t very satisfying.

So tonight, I shall shower. I suspect it will be long and hot shower, and very, very sweet.

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Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

This is about me. As my posts often are.

I’ve been undergoing treatment for lymphedema. It’s been going well. As part of that process, after the swelling in my lower legs, ankles, and feet were reduced, tailored-made compression socks to help me maintain my lymph fluid flow were ordered. Because the left side was ordered first, it was received first. I’ve been wearing it, and I’ve been happy with it.

My right side has taken longer. Part of that is because I was recovering from surgery on that side for a ruptured tendon. The surgery area ballooned up and fought against going down. Hence the therapy prescried for me to deal with the lymphedemia.

The right side has responded to it all and is much better after a month of special bandages, strict dieting, and a bevy of special exercises. The surgery is healed. I’m awaiting my special compression sock for it. It was supposed to arrived last week. We thought it’d be here by last Friday at the latest. It still hasn’t arrived.

It occured to me last night that my sock might be trapped somwhere as part of the Great Undoing. See, Medicare A&B cover me, backed up by the insurance from my twenty-year military career, Tricare For Life (TFL). But the socks ordered by my therapist through my hospital go through Medicare and paid for by Medicare and TFL. That’s done through an organization in Portland, Oregon, which outsources the sock production from a Germany company. The German company ships it directly to moi.

It leaves me in limbo at this point. I wonder, why hasn’t the second sock arrived yet?

Has it been affected by the Great Undoing and the PINO Trusk cuts, chaos, freezes, and tariffs?

Is it just standard logistical issues caused by weather and life?

Was or is it just a bureaucratic snafu?

Time will reveal all in the long run. In the meantime, like many Americans, I’m trapped in a loop of ‘wait and see’.

It’s a frustrating place to be.

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I received my new medical compression sock. Yes, just one, for the left leg. The right leg was in worse shape. The sock for it is now ordered and I’m waiting for it to arrive.

Meanwhile, the new ‘medical grade’ compression sock is custom made for my limb from the knee to the the toes. So one, difficult to put on. Two, comfortable. Three, much more difficult to get off.

But what really struck me is that it has a seam down the back that runs over my calf, Achilles tendon, heel, and on down my foot’s center. As I put it on and aligned it, I was reminded of a previous era, when women’s nylon stockings had a seam down the back. I remembered movies where a woman would show her legs and ask, “Are my seams straight?” So I went out to my wife and asked, “Is my seam straight?”

She rewarded me with a mild guffaw.

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Thurzda’s Theme Music

They say it’s partly sunny in Ashlandia’s valley today Thurzda, Feb. 20, 2025, but I find if fully sunny. The clouds hanging around are rice-paper thin. Wandering aimlessly as a cloud, they break up as easily whipped cream in hot chocolate. 43 F right now, the temperature-measuring thingy is expected to test the fifties before the sun begins its wind down.

A sick cat & personal medical appointments has frayed my routines. Accomodating both — cat (Tucker, the still-handsome black and white floof whose name is pronounced Tuck-ah) and my med appointments are high priorities. So are my twice-daily rituals of self-massaging my bod using the techniques taught me to stimulate my lymphatic system. The wraps and self-massaging seem to be working. My left limb/foot is stabilized and doesn’t swell during the day. I have very minor swelling on the right side, mostly focused on the 3-4-5 toes. As for Tucker, he’s on antibiotics, so we’ll see where it goes. His nocturnal issues diced my sleep into bite-sized chunks, so I was late rolling out of bed. Anyway, the efforts involved in these things cut into my reading/writing/posting/surface hours, and I’m the crankier for it. I know, I am such a whiner.

Today’s song is another odd choice for The Neurons. I have “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” from the 1984 movie, Footloose, with Kevin Bacon. Deniece Williams sings the song,

Folks, this thing was released over 40 years ago. The movie never thrilled my sensibilities but I had plenty o’ younger friends who enjoyed it. Those who liked it were mostly feminine and enticed by Bacon and his dancing. The movie begat several hit songs which seemed perpetually on the radio of the time. Why it’s in my morning mental music stream is beyond my reasoning skills. The Neurons often have their way with me and rarely devote elucidation about it. It’s okay, though, as I’m pleased to not have songs associated with the 2025 PINO Trusk Shitstorm in my head.

Coffee and I made a handshake agreement and I’m gulping like it’s going out of style. Hope you have a solid day. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Theme Music

This Wenzda, February 19, 2025, is being rinsed off. Yes, it’s 43 F and rain is falling. Papi the ginger blade, aka Meep, Butter Butt and Butter Booger, has chosen to ensconce himself on the living room sofa, not far from the fireplace’s steady warmth. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) remains under the weather and is staying on a bed under the influence of antibiotics. He’s showing a slow but steady recovery. Fingers and toes remain interwoven, as in crossing.

I’m running late due to tending the cat but also because today’s lymphedema massage therapy appointment is at high noon. So I’m ’bout to bust out the door. I bathed with a wash cloth and then did my self-massaging and moisturing, but then washed my hair. A hope is lit that I’ll be done with the thick wraps today. That’s because I’ve shown steady improvement, and the swelling has drastically declined. My efforts certaintly contributed but she added some thicker padding at several locations, and I noticed a dramatic impact from that. Although the wraps only remain on my lower right limb and foot, I can’t properly bathe while working them. I’m aching for a solid, warm shower, you know?

The Neurons have a weird song playing in my head. Not a weird song, sorry; it’s an excellent song, emblamatic of an era and attitude. But why today? That is the question. The song in question plowing my morning mental music stream is “Super Bad” from 1970 by James Brown. Nothing to do with dreams, cats, weather, food, coffee, or news. So what the heck, right?

Love all the different dance moves of the period the young dancer employs.

Quick reminder. Friday, Feb. 28, 2025, is a planned day of boycott. Hope you’ll participate. We are. The more the merrier. While it’s targeted on corporations which rolled back DEI policies under PINO Trusk’s encouragement, like Amazon, Target, Best Buy, PBS, NPR, Coca Cola, Pepsico, McDonald’s, Starbucks, and more. Costco is one of the few major corporations which stood firm against DEI changes. Share the news. Make it real. It begins at 00:01 AM on Feb 28th and ends at 11:59 PM.

I approached coffee with an offer and it accepted, so I’m blissfully in a cup. Hope your day delivers for you. Time to funk out. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Theme Music

Greetings to all on this day, Wenzda, February 12, 2025. Sunshine is blazing across a bold blue sky, dazzling off the disheveled snow comforter still in place around much of Ashlandia. It’s 24 F, up from 19 F. Gonna get up to 42, 43 F, ‘they’ tell us.

A gorgeous full moon visited last night. Light sprayed across the snow, throwing deep shadows around trees and houses. One of those wondrous sights that hold your attention and forces you to invest in deep philosophical thoughts about the nature of existence. At least, until the wine runs out.

Happy Darwin Day! “Charles Robert Darwin, who first described the process of evolution of species in the plant and animal kingdoms through natural selection, was born.
It is now celebrated as Darwin Day, when the common language of science, bridging language and culture, is recognized and appreciated.“ stolen from Scottie’s Playtime. A friend puts on a one-person play as Darwin to honor the man. We were planning to attend but with the rise of flu and other respiratory illnesses, we backed off that intention.

That’s Dr. Pepper Trail on the right.

I also have another lymphedema bandage session this afternoon. The left appendage and all of its accessories responded well and I may come out of there wearing a normal shoe on it. The right, which had the surgery, still had some space to improve.

Today’s song is “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John with Lyrics by Bernie Taupin. Released in 1973, while I was in high school, it’s one of those songs which are easy to sing along with…if you know the words! It’s like, what is he saying? Hearing the actual lyrics cause conniptions over meanings and associations. Some seem straightforward enough but others give a ‘huuuhhh?’ moment. It’s about longing to me, though, about being in a different place and time, one where you feel more comfortable. That’s why I The Neurons have delivered it to the morning mental music stream. Reading the world’s news, especially politics in the U.S., I wondered what road we’ll need to follow to survive and free ourselves of this mess. Where is the yellow brick road?

Coffee grabbed me as I was walking by and took me into the kitchen, where I indulged a cup to wash down a lemon turnover. Hope your day goes well. Stay safe out there. Cheers

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Medical Update

I made it to my first lymphedema massage therapy session yesterday. I began experiencing edema in about 2020, around 63 years old. I walked about eleven miles a day back then. Went all over town carried by my feet and legs. As various injuries slowed my exercise routines, bilateral edema developed in my legs. This became a real nuisance when I had ankle surgery to address a ruptured tendone. Swelling caused by edema kept me from healing correctly. Yeah, that sucked. My orthorpedic surgeon recommend that I pursue lymphedema massage therapy. When I expressed interest, he set it up.

My first appointment was supposed to be Munda. I cancelled because of snow, and the therapist cancelled Wednesday due to snow. A young woman named Anastasia is my therapist. When I made it in yesterday, we laughed over the week’s crazy snow weather and agreed, Ashlandia was hit much harder than her town, Medford. Makes sense, as Ashland is at a higher elevation.

Not my foot.

Ana wrapped my legs as part of the process called lymphedema compression bandages. Used to help manage lymphedema by a sequence of pressure from high to low to help the lymph vessels move their fluid, the bandages end up being very thick. My toes were individually wrapped, then foot, ankle, calf, up to my knee on both sides. Sort of looks like a mummy. After that, dark blue open-toed sandals with velcro straps were provided. They were needed because my wrapped feet were too large for my shoes.

When my wife saw me in my new gear, she doubled over in laughter.

She laughed again today when she saw me. She couldn’t believe that after my appointment yesterday, I went grocery shopping. Her exact exclamation was, “I can’t believe you went into a store looking like that. You’re braver than me.”

I replied, “Nobody noticed.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, honey, they noticed.”

Whatever her and others’ opinions of appearances, I’m astonished by how my legs feel within these bandages. There is absolutely no pain. No limitations on movement and flexing that’s generated by swelling. No stiffness. Before that, I had a regular evening struggle. Once my compression socks were removed for the day, swelling into my feet. This really affected my ability to bend and flex my ankles and toes. Exercising them came with a double shot of anguish. With these bandages, there is none of that.

Besides the shoes, the other drawback is the bathing limitation. The bandages can’t get wet. That means washing my hair in the sink and giving myself a sponge bath.

It’s a tiny sacrifice to have my legs, ankles, and feet feeling and doing so much better.

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Health Update

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.

Here we go.

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