An hour left of the REAL mlk day! We are back in Spruce Cottage, Kitty Nation. (We = 2 humans , 5 cats.) It’s good to be home and attended by cats! It’s good to wake 2 mornings in a row with Frida on my hip, and to dream at night of Black Cats.
Of course Luna was a bit disappointed. After a week as Queen of room # 23 . . . The Others are STILL HERE??
Greetings to all. Happy soon-to-be-new regime, & good shabbes again. (Steve will post this Friday morning from the community college after Spanish class.)
The week has been long, slow, and restful, except for the 2nd half of the drive home. There’s no way to avoid a mini blizzard caused by a passing 18 wheeler in the left lane, when you are driving cautiously in the right, and it is snowing, is there?
Special thanks to Colleen for feeding us and then demanding that we take her cell phone with us for the last 25 miles.
Mayo has a good policy: release the patient but advise: stay in the area for a day.
I received lasix to take off the water that sat on my lungs. I needed heparin injections twice a day. So, we went back and I was an outpatient.
Friday (1/9) I showered, dried, and dressed and we drove to a lively synagog service: lots of music, a well spoken rabbi, friendly congregation. My energy was up, heart in rhythm, the moon was near full, and cloud cover made the air gentle. We walked to gaze at the giant 13 part Dale Chihuly in the Gonda Building: wow! Moon this way, Chihuly that! And then walked 1 block north for infusion (of heparin), very nice nurses, of course, and in the lobby, a most interesting box. We had no details about it but the nativity scene was evident, as was the beauty. We assumed the handicraft work was done in Jordan, but a call from brother Adam, in which he had enough lines to Google and talk, revealed surprising news. Find out more about this gift from King Hussein and Queen Noor and do stop and see it when in Rochester.
Today’s the first day I didn’t have a severe headache! Some people get a headache from the heart catheters. “They” don’t know why
After care instructions were a bit vague , and a call to Nurse-who-seems-like-a-doctor Dean was most helpful. Getting on the floor and doing crunches is NOT ADVISED. No abdominal isometrics. Really 2 weeks of rest is needed. Gentle walking is good, but that’s not possible in this arctic air and icy land, so stay indoors . . .
Gentle’s the word. Be gentle to yourselves, you few readers, and let us know if you’re taping the inauguration (or who is, and how to watch later the same day). Gentle furry wishes from Kitty Nation! All the best,
RR – etc.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Elvis's Birthday/Discharge
1-8-9
We left last night. We left slowly and on our own 4 feet. The Patient can't carry anything. The Husband slepped, then sat through son John Stewart, then made the next shlep which included a pharmacy stop in the hospital because due to slow + cautious departure & re-reading of notes by RN-who-is-like-a-doctor Dean (+he has a vinyard, too!) Patient realized she needed 6 pills to get through the next few days.
We are now at Ray-Mar, "in the shadow of St. Mary's." We are glad to be in her shadow. We will go back to deliver Thank-you notes, miscellaneous papers . . . . .
The three of us slept in one bed. Luna purred. We will take care of ourselves without nurses and doctors today.
We are not in charge of weather (or of our own heart beats!) but we will try and arrive home safely before shabbes. We can only hope that this plan will be realized. If necessary we can stay here and visit the synagogue with the new Rabbi who used to work at a cooking school in France, even though it's not true what Rabbi Jeff suspected ("a Rabbi who is a cook? Great onegs!") : - )
Yesterday was Molly's birthday. Today is Elvis's, and Nancy's; and Sunday is Daniel's Happy Birthdays! We hope to visit with Cindy, Nancy, Daniel later, today or tomorrow.
For now, we are off to get a heparin injection a mile away, and then come back to our simple room and rest. Oh, Elvis, you were all shook up, but can't boogie right now. Our word for the day is REST, in a simple room.
We wish you peace and rest and health this one week into '09 and love and thanks. And special healing wishes to Ann's Mom and family. The Quaker words Ann sends are good, as are the words you send us.
With gratitude, and happy birthday, and so much more
"We hold you in the Light."
We left last night. We left slowly and on our own 4 feet. The Patient can't carry anything. The Husband slepped, then sat through son John Stewart, then made the next shlep which included a pharmacy stop in the hospital because due to slow + cautious departure & re-reading of notes by RN-who-is-like-a-doctor Dean (+he has a vinyard, too!) Patient realized she needed 6 pills to get through the next few days.
We are now at Ray-Mar, "in the shadow of St. Mary's." We are glad to be in her shadow. We will go back to deliver Thank-you notes, miscellaneous papers . . . . .
The three of us slept in one bed. Luna purred. We will take care of ourselves without nurses and doctors today.
We are not in charge of weather (or of our own heart beats!) but we will try and arrive home safely before shabbes. We can only hope that this plan will be realized. If necessary we can stay here and visit the synagogue with the new Rabbi who used to work at a cooking school in France, even though it's not true what Rabbi Jeff suspected ("a Rabbi who is a cook? Great onegs!") : - )
Yesterday was Molly's birthday. Today is Elvis's, and Nancy's; and Sunday is Daniel's Happy Birthdays! We hope to visit with Cindy, Nancy, Daniel later, today or tomorrow.
For now, we are off to get a heparin injection a mile away, and then come back to our simple room and rest. Oh, Elvis, you were all shook up, but can't boogie right now. Our word for the day is REST, in a simple room.
We wish you peace and rest and health this one week into '09 and love and thanks. And special healing wishes to Ann's Mom and family. The Quaker words Ann sends are good, as are the words you send us.
With gratitude, and happy birthday, and so much more
"We hold you in the Light."
Gratitude & Mistaken Auspicious Dates
1-7-9
More thanks.
If I list all the people who help me here, The Reader (ha ha! You think there is 1 or 2?) will get bored but:
RN Dean-who-is-almost-a-doctor is a fab font of info;Kim comes up with the hair washing in bed equipment;
Hub S. does the job fabulously.
Nurse M. got 4 gold stars (NOT real!) for people skills from this peep.
Nurse R was so much fun.
I could go through the alphabet.
My word of the day is GRATITUDE . . . . . For Luna, S, Jerr; That mom made it to HER doc appt. and got some help I think; That I have COUSINS (yah cousins!) who forward my e's . . . . .
If you have a chance to try Fentanyl, IMHO – DON'T.
Now I might have made a MISTAKE (me?)! S. says Wikipedia sez Bloody Sunday was 1-9-5 not 1-5-5. That's in (our) Gregorian . . .on the old Russian calendars it was 1-22-05. (That would be 1905, my friends!)
[Typist's note: No, that's 1-5-05 oldstyle, 1-22-05 new style.]
Comrades, if you feel so called, check out the failed revolution at the Winter Palace, and for a song (from the highest singer) you might win our spare copy of the fat book The Shadow of the Winter Palace. (Dad, do you want it?) (Did we already give you one?)
Doctor P.B. here (from Merry Old England!) had 1-5-9 AND 1-9-9 available and I chose the former partly influenced by MISTAKEN AUSPICIOUS DATES. So, it's destinay for me to be here 1-5-9 'til 1-9-9? Dunno?
It's snowing in Minnesota Rabbi MW says, "Keep looking forward."
It was SO NICE of her to visit yesterday. I'd love to get to Friday night services.
Love to you all. May the snowflakes falling on your head be gentle . . . . .
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MOLLY!
p.s. Luna was a big hit yesterday and beamed me with her sweet cat scan for hours & hours.
ciao + MIAO!
pps Leaving tonight or TOMORROW for motel.
More thanks.
If I list all the people who help me here, The Reader (ha ha! You think there is 1 or 2?) will get bored but:
RN Dean-who-is-almost-a-doctor is a fab font of info;Kim comes up with the hair washing in bed equipment;
Hub S. does the job fabulously.
Nurse M. got 4 gold stars (NOT real!) for people skills from this peep.
Nurse R was so much fun.
I could go through the alphabet.
My word of the day is GRATITUDE . . . . . For Luna, S, Jerr; That mom made it to HER doc appt. and got some help I think; That I have COUSINS (yah cousins!) who forward my e's . . . . .
If you have a chance to try Fentanyl, IMHO – DON'T.
Now I might have made a MISTAKE (me?)! S. says Wikipedia sez Bloody Sunday was 1-9-5 not 1-5-5. That's in (our) Gregorian . . .on the old Russian calendars it was 1-22-05. (That would be 1905, my friends!)
[Typist's note: No, that's 1-5-05 oldstyle, 1-22-05 new style.]
Comrades, if you feel so called, check out the failed revolution at the Winter Palace, and for a song (from the highest singer) you might win our spare copy of the fat book The Shadow of the Winter Palace. (Dad, do you want it?) (Did we already give you one?)
Doctor P.B. here (from Merry Old England!) had 1-5-9 AND 1-9-9 available and I chose the former partly influenced by MISTAKEN AUSPICIOUS DATES. So, it's destinay for me to be here 1-5-9 'til 1-9-9? Dunno?
It's snowing in Minnesota Rabbi MW says, "Keep looking forward."
It was SO NICE of her to visit yesterday. I'd love to get to Friday night services.
Love to you all. May the snowflakes falling on your head be gentle . . . . .
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MOLLY!
p.s. Luna was a big hit yesterday and beamed me with her sweet cat scan for hours & hours.
ciao + MIAO!
pps Leaving tonight or TOMORROW for motel.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
cous cous; no epiphany
DO NOT PANIC; I AM BACK IN A-FIB
Nurse Dean-who-should-be-a-doctor breaks the new to me:
Tikosyn’s the word.
For a consolation prize I get citrus cous cous salad (* required special notice, 4 hr advance to marinate!)
Neither the Chinese food deliverer or I know from which culture comes this exquisite delicacy. The Reform Rabbi of Rochester knows! This is her first pulpit, but before she was a rabbi she worked at a cooking school in France. The delicacy is North African. Okay—that’s a it general and it doesn’t reflect population trends in patients coming here. Rabbi points out that there might just be someone new in the kitchen. In any case, if you’re ever in hospital at Mayo, order citrus cous cous salad.
. . . . .another hour passes, more news:
After falafel (The Best! King Hussein was here!) it’s back on Flecanide, a drug but one I’ve had before. Then NPO (nothing per oral) after midnight and a cardioverson (=mini-electrocution, sans demise) tomorrow morning. Stay tuned for a report on the latest Mayoist trends in dosage of joules of electricity, and what meds are used in the damatic scenario.
Hope your medical care is much less complex than mine is and that your entrees are at least half as good.
“It’s the day the Wise Guys showed up” explains my husband and translator (from Christian dominant culture to Jew me) but NO EPIPHANY YET this January 6th.
Love to y’all
and ongoing wishes for a fab aught nine
(previous updates)
Nurse Dean-who-should-be-a-doctor breaks the new to me:
Tikosyn’s the word.
For a consolation prize I get citrus cous cous salad (* required special notice, 4 hr advance to marinate!)
Neither the Chinese food deliverer or I know from which culture comes this exquisite delicacy. The Reform Rabbi of Rochester knows! This is her first pulpit, but before she was a rabbi she worked at a cooking school in France. The delicacy is North African. Okay—that’s a it general and it doesn’t reflect population trends in patients coming here. Rabbi points out that there might just be someone new in the kitchen. In any case, if you’re ever in hospital at Mayo, order citrus cous cous salad.
. . . . .another hour passes, more news:
After falafel (The Best! King Hussein was here!) it’s back on Flecanide, a drug but one I’ve had before. Then NPO (nothing per oral) after midnight and a cardioverson (=mini-electrocution, sans demise) tomorrow morning. Stay tuned for a report on the latest Mayoist trends in dosage of joules of electricity, and what meds are used in the damatic scenario.
Hope your medical care is much less complex than mine is and that your entrees are at least half as good.
“It’s the day the Wise Guys showed up” explains my husband and translator (from Christian dominant culture to Jew me) but NO EPIPHANY YET this January 6th.
Love to y’all
and ongoing wishes for a fab aught nine
(previous updates)
Office Window Signs
What t0 read while waiting for a morning echocardiogram: lots of pet pix and quotes.
A very pet friendly support staff here.
Two selections:
"Don't accept your dog's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful."
--Ann Landers
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea."
--Robert A. Heinlein
A very pet friendly support staff here.
Two selections:
"Don't accept your dog's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful."
--Ann Landers
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea."
--Robert A. Heinlein
New Year Greetings
dear peeps,
hello! aloha!
shalom! salaam!
happy aught nine! fare thee well '08!
the night is clear and stars and planets are bright but the chill and the wind are a bit (a bit?) of a deterrent to gazing.
'08's last day ended with a magnificent sunset followed by a young moon and jupiter frolicking together for our enjoyment in the southwest. it was hard to walk on ice and stargaze at the same time but we managed!
having discussed with mr. s that the chinese new year and mlk day and the inauguration of our 44th usa pres would be as good a time for greetings as any here i sit at one of "my" times, the one that comes around a couple of hours after midnight. what can i say? that i am an owl? i was *trying* to settle down but in reviewing the day and preparing for the next one my mind perks up. what can i say? it was something that happened in utero?
this at one time was going to be an us sort of letter, us being 2 humans and five felines, or 155 years of combined mammal wisdom (and only 118 of them human!) but truth be told only ten fingers are on the keyboard. ten others carried this machine up from the basement. this is the south side of the dining room and the home office is supposed to be the south side of the living room but the rooms keep morphing into one another. still it is good to be in a cozy cottage. sure beats a tent and it seems appropriately modest for the cold season and the equally chilling economic forecast.
frida kahlo (a cat!) is massaging a pillow behind me so i am really missing out on something by not leaning back into her magic healing touch...
WE hope this finds you warm and well, all of you, coast to coast and here and there in the middle.
now i might as well get to the me part because there is so much me me me going on it's hard not to....
steve and luna will be part of the trip when WE go to minnesota but i'm the one who is having a catheter ablation for atrial fibrilation next monday which is like any minute now, the 5 of jan, arriving at saint mary's (which is part of mayo) at 5:30 a.m. the weather radio is enough to keep a person up at night. of course we will travel sunday the 4th, marcia's birthday, and her smile will guide our way......
if you want details on the general scenario i suggest
a-fib.com
which, you will find out when you get there, is by and for lay people attempting (like me!!) to understand what is happening when the heart starts marching to the beat of a different drummer. when one's own heart does that.
if you want to know what's up with me, i invite you to visit my blog
RR-HEART.blogspot.com
as best we can (and that part of the we will be mr s) we will try and organize it into sections such as
s's update
just the facts pls m'am
and the bla bla blog itself....
i guess i've been blogging most of my life, since before there was a blog. (you can ask my mother!) i suspect what a blog is is: a log of the bla bla bla that goes on inside of one's own mind. well why would anyone (else!) want to look in there? well, some of us do, and some of us don't, so you are invited, and the choice is yours.
i started the RR-Heart (**we think it's not case sensitive....) in a spiral notebook, one of my Preferred Things on which to write, and the bla bla bla part already in there will have to get typed up. could be worse. i've been enjoying the return to The Pen On Paper but my wrists are tired and it's time for this. Mr S won't e mail or call out much--just one to the folks, and if you know them by all means call esp. since i am worried about the anxiety of the mother. she will worry about me and i will worry about her worrying about me...it's a female thing...no it's a Jewish thing....wuddever...
hmmm i think to do all this ( and the laundry as well) (but not that tomorrow, 1-1-9!), and the cleaning out of the car, and the looking over of all the right papers from mayo, and looking round about the house for healing and spiritually uplifting books, it might be wise to forgo that party tomorrow. going to the hospital, and welcoming a new year, both call out as times to get one's affairs in order, as the phrase goes (and isn't it a wierd one, with its multiple meanings??), don't you think?
anyway, please send me nothing but healing thoughts and or prayers, as is appropriate to your belief system, and know that we thank you.
may you be warm and well, and i wish upon you at least one set of greengoddess eyes in which to gaze deeply. may all the animals who cross your path be friendly (and furry and flea free..) may your dreams grow and your hearts beat true.
we are sending this to a bunch of you with love from us all. in addition to being all over the place in geography you are all over the place in age. we THINK the oldest person we know (and not very very well) is 96. she swims every morning and walks every afternoon; what more example could we want? then again she was a coach or gym teacher and probably had a more magnificent physique than i ever did in our never-co-existing-in-time primes. hmm. the good thing is knowing people of all ages which i guess makes us somewhere in the middle which is.....middle age!
the middle can cut a wide swathe....
we think the only people we know who were born in the aughts are from this new century (and some of you we haven't actually met yet tho you have been out and about for half a year!)
anyway, however old you are and whatever calendar you live by, enjoy this new turn of the page. let us know what's up with you and turn to the blog (and other cyber places it will tell you about) to find out what's up with us, or at least some or one of us.......
more later. it really is probably bedtime for owls, as well as pussycats.
ciao, and meow, and love, and solidarity,
rebecca r.
on behalf of me, and me and steve, and
todos los gatos
top of page=luna on the fridge,our kitchen, not too long ago.....
hello! aloha!
shalom! salaam!
happy aught nine! fare thee well '08!
the night is clear and stars and planets are bright but the chill and the wind are a bit (a bit?) of a deterrent to gazing.
'08's last day ended with a magnificent sunset followed by a young moon and jupiter frolicking together for our enjoyment in the southwest. it was hard to walk on ice and stargaze at the same time but we managed!
having discussed with mr. s that the chinese new year and mlk day and the inauguration of our 44th usa pres would be as good a time for greetings as any here i sit at one of "my" times, the one that comes around a couple of hours after midnight. what can i say? that i am an owl? i was *trying* to settle down but in reviewing the day and preparing for the next one my mind perks up. what can i say? it was something that happened in utero?
this at one time was going to be an us sort of letter, us being 2 humans and five felines, or 155 years of combined mammal wisdom (and only 118 of them human!) but truth be told only ten fingers are on the keyboard. ten others carried this machine up from the basement. this is the south side of the dining room and the home office is supposed to be the south side of the living room but the rooms keep morphing into one another. still it is good to be in a cozy cottage. sure beats a tent and it seems appropriately modest for the cold season and the equally chilling economic forecast.
frida kahlo (a cat!) is massaging a pillow behind me so i am really missing out on something by not leaning back into her magic healing touch...
WE hope this finds you warm and well, all of you, coast to coast and here and there in the middle.
now i might as well get to the me part because there is so much me me me going on it's hard not to....
steve and luna will be part of the trip when WE go to minnesota but i'm the one who is having a catheter ablation for atrial fibrilation next monday which is like any minute now, the 5 of jan, arriving at saint mary's (which is part of mayo) at 5:30 a.m. the weather radio is enough to keep a person up at night. of course we will travel sunday the 4th, marcia's birthday, and her smile will guide our way......
if you want details on the general scenario i suggest
a-fib.com
which, you will find out when you get there, is by and for lay people attempting (like me!!) to understand what is happening when the heart starts marching to the beat of a different drummer. when one's own heart does that.
if you want to know what's up with me, i invite you to visit my blog
RR-HEART.blogspot.com
as best we can (and that part of the we will be mr s) we will try and organize it into sections such as
s's update
just the facts pls m'am
and the bla bla blog itself....
i guess i've been blogging most of my life, since before there was a blog. (you can ask my mother!) i suspect what a blog is is: a log of the bla bla bla that goes on inside of one's own mind. well why would anyone (else!) want to look in there? well, some of us do, and some of us don't, so you are invited, and the choice is yours.
i started the RR-Heart (**we think it's not case sensitive....) in a spiral notebook, one of my Preferred Things on which to write, and the bla bla bla part already in there will have to get typed up. could be worse. i've been enjoying the return to The Pen On Paper but my wrists are tired and it's time for this. Mr S won't e mail or call out much--just one to the folks, and if you know them by all means call esp. since i am worried about the anxiety of the mother. she will worry about me and i will worry about her worrying about me...it's a female thing...no it's a Jewish thing....wuddever...
hmmm i think to do all this ( and the laundry as well) (but not that tomorrow, 1-1-9!), and the cleaning out of the car, and the looking over of all the right papers from mayo, and looking round about the house for healing and spiritually uplifting books, it might be wise to forgo that party tomorrow. going to the hospital, and welcoming a new year, both call out as times to get one's affairs in order, as the phrase goes (and isn't it a wierd one, with its multiple meanings??), don't you think?
anyway, please send me nothing but healing thoughts and or prayers, as is appropriate to your belief system, and know that we thank you.
may you be warm and well, and i wish upon you at least one set of greengoddess eyes in which to gaze deeply. may all the animals who cross your path be friendly (and furry and flea free..) may your dreams grow and your hearts beat true.
we are sending this to a bunch of you with love from us all. in addition to being all over the place in geography you are all over the place in age. we THINK the oldest person we know (and not very very well) is 96. she swims every morning and walks every afternoon; what more example could we want? then again she was a coach or gym teacher and probably had a more magnificent physique than i ever did in our never-co-existing-in-time primes. hmm. the good thing is knowing people of all ages which i guess makes us somewhere in the middle which is.....middle age!
the middle can cut a wide swathe....
we think the only people we know who were born in the aughts are from this new century (and some of you we haven't actually met yet tho you have been out and about for half a year!)
anyway, however old you are and whatever calendar you live by, enjoy this new turn of the page. let us know what's up with you and turn to the blog (and other cyber places it will tell you about) to find out what's up with us, or at least some or one of us.......
more later. it really is probably bedtime for owls, as well as pussycats.
ciao, and meow, and love, and solidarity,
rebecca r.
on behalf of me, and me and steve, and
todos los gatos
top of page=luna on the fridge,our kitchen, not too long ago.....
Special thanks
Greetings to friends
Some special thanks to: CBST for so much, for the pamphlet which arrived Jan. 2 and for the rabinnical notes + calls. They mean so much!
& the community afar.
When/if Iowa upholds marriage laws that disregard gender, c’mon out and count on us for quiche, carrot juice, whole wheat challah and more.
Thanks to Reb J of AA for emotional and logistical support & help.
To Reb A.B. and Ch—ele + the family for warmth and caring.
(to be continued . . . . . )
Some special thanks to: CBST for so much, for the pamphlet which arrived Jan. 2 and for the rabinnical notes + calls. They mean so much!
& the community afar.
When/if Iowa upholds marriage laws that disregard gender, c’mon out and count on us for quiche, carrot juice, whole wheat challah and more.
Thanks to Reb J of AA for emotional and logistical support & help.
To Reb A.B. and Ch—ele + the family for warmth and caring.
(to be continued . . . . . )
Monday, January 5, 2009
Silver Lining
Green and white is the color of young garlic I find at the edge of almost frozen dirt, where the garden meets the wood border. A railroad tie that shouldn’t be there, because it’s leaching toxic. Or, maybe it’s something more benign, lighter but the same 4x4 shape. In any; case the garlic patch is soft there and my shovel tip finds the bulbs. Of course this happens right after I’ve given up and called Steve and asked him to buy one bunch at the co-op. The place I had been hacking was a frozen center spot. We are really broke now, but snow and ice will come, and we’ll use that store bought garlic later in the month. Now it’s December 14th , 2008, and at least something in the soup will be from the work of our own hands, partnered with Earth and the Beyond. How lucky is that, a week before Solstice? (And Chanukah!) Of course the bulb flesh is white, but silver lining seems the best common phrase to describe this luck.
-2-
The finding of young garlic, small bulbs, green shoots, is on account of being a Sloppy Gardener. If you don’t dig up your fat bulbs at just the right moment after beheading their clusters of seeds nodding swanlike on a stalk, you’ll get more and more seeds, and more and more garlic and your bed will be too crowded to allow the bulbs to grow fat. But, you’ll have young garlic for ever and a day, as long as the world keeps turning.
And it’s Not My Fault I couldn’t keep up with summer’s garden. There was The Flood. And there was My Heart, marching to the beat of a different drummer.
Since Spring I’ve been in A-fib more often than not. Working in the yard I would get That Huffy Puffy Feeling and time in the lawn chair moved from equal to that in the dirt to twice as long. Also, bending over to pull a weed, or pick up a stick I would find myself light headed and dizzy. Again, the lawn chair; or better yet the lounger. Moments of pause. Finally Dr. Martins figured it out. In his office he took my blood pressure the old fashioned way, with a cuff and a stethoscope, nothing digital; and sitting a standing. The drop when moving from sitting to standing was pretty big. You’re orthostatic he said. So then we knew. Take it slow.
The finding of young garlic, small bulbs, green shoots, is on account of being a Sloppy Gardener. If you don’t dig up your fat bulbs at just the right moment after beheading their clusters of seeds nodding swanlike on a stalk, you’ll get more and more seeds, and more and more garlic and your bed will be too crowded to allow the bulbs to grow fat. But, you’ll have young garlic for ever and a day, as long as the world keeps turning.
And it’s Not My Fault I couldn’t keep up with summer’s garden. There was The Flood. And there was My Heart, marching to the beat of a different drummer.
Since Spring I’ve been in A-fib more often than not. Working in the yard I would get That Huffy Puffy Feeling and time in the lawn chair moved from equal to that in the dirt to twice as long. Also, bending over to pull a weed, or pick up a stick I would find myself light headed and dizzy. Again, the lawn chair; or better yet the lounger. Moments of pause. Finally Dr. Martins figured it out. In his office he took my blood pressure the old fashioned way, with a cuff and a stethoscope, nothing digital; and sitting a standing. The drop when moving from sitting to standing was pretty big. You’re orthostatic he said. So then we knew. Take it slow.
-3-
I’m going to have an ablation on January 5th, 2009, a Monday. The date is the anniversary of the failed revolution at the Winter Palace, 1905, a Sunday, commonly known as Bloody Sunday. Grandpa Abe was there and he was shot in the leg by the Czar’s army and limped for the rest of his life.
I take the day to be auspicious.
It’s the first day Dr. Peter Brady has available and I’m glad to take it. We (+Steve, Kitty Luna and RR) will drive up to Mayo on Sunday the 4th, which is the birthday of our dear friend Marcia (OBM) (Of Blessed Memory). Again, it’s auspicious, and whether or not there is a heaven the spirit of Marcia will be watching over us. And I like the 4’s. Today is the 14th. January the 4th. Marcia was nine months to the day younger than me. The human gestation period is not really exactly nine months, but Marcia may or may not have been conceived on my birthday, 4-4. Marcia died on 2-4, one month after becoming 53. I didn’t need to tell you that. You could figure that 2-4 is one month after 1-4. Bit, if I hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t have known she died at 53.
Bernie and Colleen (of the North) or Colleen of CR) and Steve and I have grown closer since losing our mutual friend. We were all friends before but now more so, as we huddle around the empty space that was Marcia, or the warm memory that is Marcia. The hole in our hearts that is the absence of Marcia. This is a hole in our metaphorical hearts. Our physical hearts are whlole.
For the second year since Marcia’s death we will (we hope, barring blizzards or freezing drizzle) take Marcia’s mother, Joann Davis out to eat. I imagine we will go to the Greek place again, on Mt. Vernon Road, and Steve and I will each order spanakopita. I had been imagining that we’d go out to eat on Dacia’s actual birthday and then continue north on 380 to Waterloo, and then pick up 63 straight north into Rochester, but Bernie works on Sundays, so hopefully, we’ll go out to eat Saturday night, the eve of Marcia’s birthday. It will be better that way, as Steve, Luna, and RR will be able to pack up and get on the road in the afternoon, and maybe not stop until Cedar Falls/Waterloo, where we might try finding Aunt Lura, or our friend Barbara or something to eat. Waterloo is almost half way. Actually, it’s 80 or 90 miles from here, and the Mayo Clinic as of our (=a different us: J3 and RR) last transit, is 196.
-4-
I’ve been blogging since before there was a thing called a blog, or a personal computer. I write the way I talk, when I’m lucky, and I’ve been talking for nearly 57 years, which is to say, since before I was one. I will be 58 in 3 and a half months. So, yes, I’ve been talking for nearly 57 years. It really is true. Some people are tired of this talking I’ve been doing, by pen and by typewriter and by computer and right out of my mouth, and some people like it. If you don’t believe me you can ask my mother if it’s true and she will verify that she that she said to me “You could make sentences before anyone. I got my teeth late (after two). This combination led, in my teen years, to orthodonture.
There are those who say to me shutup shutup shutup already, but mostly those are not my friends. Mostly my revelatory nature, the outpouring of the words of my heart through my mouth gives permission for the other, for other people, to open their mouths and their hearts. My ears are as big as my mouth and I will listen listen listen to your heat’s song.
That’s actually a line from a song that Steve sings. In the olden days of The Singing Peace Movement, [now?], about a quarter of a century ago, when there was a peace movement full of song, Steve would , on occasion, gather us together in a circle. Reach with your right hand onto the heart of the person to your left. (Yes, across your chest and theirs. You have to skrunch together to do this.) Take your left hand, cross your chest, and hold the left hand of the person to your right. Then, all together, sing:
Listen, listen, listen to my heart's song.
I’m going to have an ablation on January 5th, 2009, a Monday. The date is the anniversary of the failed revolution at the Winter Palace, 1905, a Sunday, commonly known as Bloody Sunday. Grandpa Abe was there and he was shot in the leg by the Czar’s army and limped for the rest of his life.
I take the day to be auspicious.
It’s the first day Dr. Peter Brady has available and I’m glad to take it. We (+Steve, Kitty Luna and RR) will drive up to Mayo on Sunday the 4th, which is the birthday of our dear friend Marcia (OBM) (Of Blessed Memory). Again, it’s auspicious, and whether or not there is a heaven the spirit of Marcia will be watching over us. And I like the 4’s. Today is the 14th. January the 4th. Marcia was nine months to the day younger than me. The human gestation period is not really exactly nine months, but Marcia may or may not have been conceived on my birthday, 4-4. Marcia died on 2-4, one month after becoming 53. I didn’t need to tell you that. You could figure that 2-4 is one month after 1-4. Bit, if I hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t have known she died at 53.
Bernie and Colleen (of the North) or Colleen of CR) and Steve and I have grown closer since losing our mutual friend. We were all friends before but now more so, as we huddle around the empty space that was Marcia, or the warm memory that is Marcia. The hole in our hearts that is the absence of Marcia. This is a hole in our metaphorical hearts. Our physical hearts are whlole.
For the second year since Marcia’s death we will (we hope, barring blizzards or freezing drizzle) take Marcia’s mother, Joann Davis out to eat. I imagine we will go to the Greek place again, on Mt. Vernon Road, and Steve and I will each order spanakopita. I had been imagining that we’d go out to eat on Dacia’s actual birthday and then continue north on 380 to Waterloo, and then pick up 63 straight north into Rochester, but Bernie works on Sundays, so hopefully, we’ll go out to eat Saturday night, the eve of Marcia’s birthday. It will be better that way, as Steve, Luna, and RR will be able to pack up and get on the road in the afternoon, and maybe not stop until Cedar Falls/Waterloo, where we might try finding Aunt Lura, or our friend Barbara or something to eat. Waterloo is almost half way. Actually, it’s 80 or 90 miles from here, and the Mayo Clinic as of our (=a different us: J3 and RR) last transit, is 196.
-4-
I’ve been blogging since before there was a thing called a blog, or a personal computer. I write the way I talk, when I’m lucky, and I’ve been talking for nearly 57 years, which is to say, since before I was one. I will be 58 in 3 and a half months. So, yes, I’ve been talking for nearly 57 years. It really is true. Some people are tired of this talking I’ve been doing, by pen and by typewriter and by computer and right out of my mouth, and some people like it. If you don’t believe me you can ask my mother if it’s true and she will verify that she that she said to me “You could make sentences before anyone. I got my teeth late (after two). This combination led, in my teen years, to orthodonture.
There are those who say to me shutup shutup shutup already, but mostly those are not my friends. Mostly my revelatory nature, the outpouring of the words of my heart through my mouth gives permission for the other, for other people, to open their mouths and their hearts. My ears are as big as my mouth and I will listen listen listen to your heat’s song.
That’s actually a line from a song that Steve sings. In the olden days of The Singing Peace Movement, [now?], about a quarter of a century ago, when there was a peace movement full of song, Steve would , on occasion, gather us together in a circle. Reach with your right hand onto the heart of the person to your left. (Yes, across your chest and theirs. You have to skrunch together to do this.) Take your left hand, cross your chest, and hold the left hand of the person to your right. Then, all together, sing:
Listen, listen, listen to my heart's song.
Listen, listen, listen to my heart's song.
I will never forget you, I will never forsake you.
I will never forget you, I will never forsake you.
-5-
FG wants to talk about my metaphorical Heart, and why it broke. Actually, it was my idea. No, I got it from somebody else. Who? Whatever. It's a logical thing to think about if you live in a realm of poetic logic.
But now I think my metaphorical Heart is fine and that there is actually something that happened to my physical heart that caused its beating to become irregular.
Of course, metaphorically, I have always been marching to the beat of a different drummer, so that part of the diagnosis is no surprise. And of course, I am , and have always been a Bleeding Heart Liberal, at least. So why shouldn't my heart be broken? Dan Bern, singer-songwriter, landsman (from up the road a piece) and a hero of mine, sings “Don’t let your heart get broken by this world,” but I think mind already was before I heard that song. His probably already was too, or else he wouldn’t have written a song like that, to cheerlead himself, and me , and countless other, on to functional normalcy, with our broken hearts.
Heartbreak is a normative human condition.
Heartsick make woman beautiful, Jun-San the walking Buddhist monk said, after trying to do something about Margaret. Jun-San is a woman, but she said that her Japanese Buddhist culture didn’t actually have a word for nun. So she said she was a monk. I think the translation is actually something like Cloud Person. Don’t quote me on that. But on the World Peace Walk to the UN 2nd Special Session on Disarmament, in 1982, run on Indian peace pipes, and Japanese Buddhist drums and chanted prayers, and fueled by roadkill and spilled wheat off the back of a truck on Highway 81 in Nebraska, not to be confused with the Great Peace March of 1984, in which you had to pay upfront to walk along, people started falling in love, especially after the Toronto branch hooked up with the San Francisco to New York branch in Buffalo, after crossing the Peach Bridge connecting the USA and Canada. In cynical moments I would look back at it as the Piece of Ass Walk. Or, I would look back and call the whole peace movement of the last quarter of the previous century the Piece of Ass Movement. After Buffalo, when I asked what she thought of all the romances busting out in the wonderous New York upstate air thick with the scent of flowers Jun-San said “is great, make many peace babies.”
FG wants to talk about my metaphorical Heart, and why it broke. Actually, it was my idea. No, I got it from somebody else. Who? Whatever. It's a logical thing to think about if you live in a realm of poetic logic.
But now I think my metaphorical Heart is fine and that there is actually something that happened to my physical heart that caused its beating to become irregular.
Of course, metaphorically, I have always been marching to the beat of a different drummer, so that part of the diagnosis is no surprise. And of course, I am , and have always been a Bleeding Heart Liberal, at least. So why shouldn't my heart be broken? Dan Bern, singer-songwriter, landsman (from up the road a piece) and a hero of mine, sings “Don’t let your heart get broken by this world,” but I think mind already was before I heard that song. His probably already was too, or else he wouldn’t have written a song like that, to cheerlead himself, and me , and countless other, on to functional normalcy, with our broken hearts.
Heartbreak is a normative human condition.
Heartsick make woman beautiful, Jun-San the walking Buddhist monk said, after trying to do something about Margaret. Jun-San is a woman, but she said that her Japanese Buddhist culture didn’t actually have a word for nun. So she said she was a monk. I think the translation is actually something like Cloud Person. Don’t quote me on that. But on the World Peace Walk to the UN 2nd Special Session on Disarmament, in 1982, run on Indian peace pipes, and Japanese Buddhist drums and chanted prayers, and fueled by roadkill and spilled wheat off the back of a truck on Highway 81 in Nebraska, not to be confused with the Great Peace March of 1984, in which you had to pay upfront to walk along, people started falling in love, especially after the Toronto branch hooked up with the San Francisco to New York branch in Buffalo, after crossing the Peach Bridge connecting the USA and Canada. In cynical moments I would look back at it as the Piece of Ass Walk. Or, I would look back and call the whole peace movement of the last quarter of the previous century the Piece of Ass Movement. After Buffalo, when I asked what she thought of all the romances busting out in the wonderous New York upstate air thick with the scent of flowers Jun-San said “is great, make many peace babies.”
(to be continued . . . . . )
conscious sedation
conscious sedation
some thoughts about it, and loving the phrase
1-1-9
there's the big stuff and the little stuff. it's hard to tell how big the little stuff can be and sometimes one doesn't know which is which. i think i'm not sweating the big stuff but i am sweating the small stuff. well maybe it's not so small. like for example being conscious or not.
generally i like being conscious. this is in part due to being a first born girl, which in at least one culture has it's own name, WINONA. did you know that? winona means first born daughter. it's also a town in minnesota.
i like that there is a special word for what i am, for what we (winonas!) are.
we have leadership qualities that are oft admired in men but denigrated in women. okay there i said oft. do write and tell me the exceptions of which you are aware. also we have a tendency towards vigilance, or hyper vigilance, which may have come from helping our moms take care of the younger ones.
oh i'll tell you about it after a good night's sleep. there is a sweet cat here telling me to rest and allow her to practice her nursing skills. we winonas need to remember when to listen to younger and wiser women and others! good night and sweet dreams my friends....
[note: Rebecca experienced conscious sedation during her TEE. She is now under a general anesthetic during her PVI. sm 1-5-09 2:22pm]
some thoughts about it, and loving the phrase
1-1-9
there's the big stuff and the little stuff. it's hard to tell how big the little stuff can be and sometimes one doesn't know which is which. i think i'm not sweating the big stuff but i am sweating the small stuff. well maybe it's not so small. like for example being conscious or not.
generally i like being conscious. this is in part due to being a first born girl, which in at least one culture has it's own name, WINONA. did you know that? winona means first born daughter. it's also a town in minnesota.
i like that there is a special word for what i am, for what we (winonas!) are.
we have leadership qualities that are oft admired in men but denigrated in women. okay there i said oft. do write and tell me the exceptions of which you are aware. also we have a tendency towards vigilance, or hyper vigilance, which may have come from helping our moms take care of the younger ones.
oh i'll tell you about it after a good night's sleep. there is a sweet cat here telling me to rest and allow her to practice her nursing skills. we winonas need to remember when to listen to younger and wiser women and others! good night and sweet dreams my friends....
[note: Rebecca experienced conscious sedation during her TEE. She is now under a general anesthetic during her PVI. sm 1-5-09 2:22pm]
Update
Monday morning Januray 5th Rebecca, Luna, and Steve arrived at St. Mary's (where the Mayo cardiovasular department is located).
Rebecca was assigned a room (Francis 4-101, 507-287-4538).
Rebecca was back from her TEE before 9:30.
At 11:15 Rebecca was taken to the cath lab for a cardiac ablation.
This procedure will probably continue for six to eight hours.
Luna and Steve checked into the Ray-Mar Motel.
Steve then returned to Francis 4C to wait for Rebecca and to work on this blog.
Rebecca was assigned a room (Francis 4-101, 507-287-4538).
Rebecca was back from her TEE before 9:30.
At 11:15 Rebecca was taken to the cath lab for a cardiac ablation.
This procedure will probably continue for six to eight hours.
Luna and Steve checked into the Ray-Mar Motel.
Steve then returned to Francis 4C to wait for Rebecca and to work on this blog.
Our Heart
I wanted to name this blog RheaRt, so that it would sound like our heart, and, at the same time, have my own RR initials embedded in it, but somebody else had that handle.
This will do. RR-Heart.
Maybe I’ll move on and write about RR-knees, RR-stomach, RR esophagus, etc.
RheaRt sounded good to me because in some ways our hearts are not our own. If we are well we all have the same basic design and it doesn’t look exactly like a valentine. We’ve got 2 ventricles, left & right and a left + right atrium. We’ve got pipes and valves. We’ve got circuits.
The Yiddish word for face is punim, which is plural, and my favorite rabbi in the known universe, or in my known universe, Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum of CBST, pointed out in a sermon several years ago that the word does not exist in the singular. “Our faces are not our own” . . .
This will do. RR-Heart.
Maybe I’ll move on and write about RR-knees, RR-stomach, RR esophagus, etc.
RheaRt sounded good to me because in some ways our hearts are not our own. If we are well we all have the same basic design and it doesn’t look exactly like a valentine. We’ve got 2 ventricles, left & right and a left + right atrium. We’ve got pipes and valves. We’ve got circuits.
The Yiddish word for face is punim, which is plural, and my favorite rabbi in the known universe, or in my known universe, Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum of CBST, pointed out in a sermon several years ago that the word does not exist in the singular. “Our faces are not our own” . . .
just the facts ma'am
i’ve had a fib for 4 years.
i’ve had propafenone & flecanide
i’ve been to UIHC, & the mercy docs in IC, & some docs in CR, & mom & dad’s Cardio Docs, North + South.
it’s time to go to Mayo.
the time is now.
Steve will get this site up while I’m actually having an ablation (1-5-9). join him in the waiting room, with a hope a prayer, a thought. sorry this is late, but it’s all we could do to get here.
if you have negative thought toward me or us fugedaboudit. we have our protective shield up & will only receive good vibration. this computer has a bad vibe filter.
if you stumbled into this & don’t know who we are, enjoy what you see.
if you want to know about other stuff we do (when not in hospital) look at: http://anyroad.synthasite.com/
Next up: TLVDH’s Photo Show in St. Paul, TBA!
Ciao + meow!
(OH yeah, we Love Kitties & have Cat Lovers Against the Bomb calendars for sale, 10 bucks (we’re only a few days into 2009.)
Also we have lots of books
+ some good as new underwire undergarments. more on that later . . . . .
i’ve had propafenone & flecanide
i’ve been to UIHC, & the mercy docs in IC, & some docs in CR, & mom & dad’s Cardio Docs, North + South.
it’s time to go to Mayo.
the time is now.
Steve will get this site up while I’m actually having an ablation (1-5-9). join him in the waiting room, with a hope a prayer, a thought. sorry this is late, but it’s all we could do to get here.
if you have negative thought toward me or us fugedaboudit. we have our protective shield up & will only receive good vibration. this computer has a bad vibe filter.
if you stumbled into this & don’t know who we are, enjoy what you see.
if you want to know about other stuff we do (when not in hospital) look at: http://anyroad.synthasite.com/
Next up: TLVDH’s Photo Show in St. Paul, TBA!
Ciao + meow!
(OH yeah, we Love Kitties & have Cat Lovers Against the Bomb calendars for sale, 10 bucks (we’re only a few days into 2009.)
Also we have lots of books
+ some good as new underwire undergarments. more on that later . . . . .
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