Monthly Archives: June 2010

June 29, 2010

image-2839

Pretty exciting morning here at St. John’s Infirmary.

I went outside to the back patio to enjoy my morning coffee in the cool of the day and was escorted by my personal feline security, Sinatra. Cunning predator that he is, he checked beneath all the nearby shrubs and bushes for any threatening squirrels, birds, crawling things or other evildoers. As cool breezes greeted the (7 a.m.) dawnings, he scampered and cavorted in the dewey grass, making sure I was safe from the swarm of gnats that hovers over the lawn. When he came to my ankles for his obligatory scratch between the ears, I knew it was safe to go in for a second cup.

Ordinarily, I’m serenaded by a particular male mockingbird in the mornings and again in the evening, but as I settled in with my second cup I noticed he was down the block today. Instead of his melodious morning concert, my yard was invaded by a raucous bluejay mafia making the territory their own. These four thugs of the sky didn’t need no stinkin’ badges, I’m tellin’ you. They clearly had no fear of me — one took the high lookout while the other three scoured the ground for anything that moved, each trading places from time to time. Later, these same four took notice of one of their second cousins twice removed, a crow much bigger than any of them, and they chased him from the entire neighborhood’s sky like World War II spitfires strafing a bomber. The bigger bird hadn’t a chance against these four blue ruffians.

I don’t drink as much coffee as I once did and I went inside for a true pleasure: I got to take a shower, wash my hair and shave myself all by my lonesome, just like a big boy. Even dried myself off with my own towel. Yep. Just like a grownup, I’m telling you. Big advance over just a couple of weeks ago, so I’m pretty proud of that landmark occasion.

Before it got too hot, I went for my daily walk. I’m up to 8 blocks now. Continuous blocks, mind you, not four 2-block walks or anything like that, a real walk for eight straight blocks without stopping. Gosh, there’s no where from here but up, right?

I closed out the early part of the day with a rousing read of an international best seller of a thriller called … er … something or another by someone I’ve never heard of.

Well, that’s the day’s dispatch. Don’t want to keep up this pace since I know some of my older readers must already be feeling the angina from the excitement.

Blogblah

The oilspill in perspective (updated)

hat tip to The Duty

A strategic perspective on the oil spill and outrage HERE.

A representative quote:

We Americans have been abused again and again by those we trusted. First it was the banks. Now it’s the oil companies. It’s not that we had some wide-eyed innocence about how moral and ethical they were – this is business after all.

But we expected them to have a clue how to do their jobs. We expected the banks to be smart enough to know not to put the entire world’s financial system at risk just for a few extra winnings at the gambling table. We expected the oil companies, who were engaging in acts of simply astounding engineering prowess, to have worked out contingency plans to mitigate the obvious risks of drilling holes in the ocean floor 5,000 feet down.

It’s not even that mistakes were made or things went wrong. What’s enraging Americans is the completely cavalier attitude these ultra-rich executives have shown in the face of their utter stupidity. Watching these executives give testimony, it feels like we’re watching teenagers claim “I dunno” after they wrecked the family car in a joyride.

In today’s news, the spew goes unchecked as capping failed and nine miles of beach in Pensacola was covered in sludge, per Anderson Cooper.

June 21, 2010

image-2820

Summer’s solstice, the longest day and not a beach in sight. Ah, well.

I spent most of the day in bed, either sleeping or playing on the internet.

I’ve been out of the hospital about 2 weeks now, but some times are better for me than others.

I had hopes I could go play a little poker or at least get some gnosh and gossip with the gang Saturday night, but that was not in the cards for me. I had some fluid drained out from around my incisions and it seemed to drain a lot of my energy with it. I got a little of the gnosh and gossip any way, if belated, when Marcy dropped by with some chicken salad and brownies. Congratulations to the newcomers to the poker table who, as I understand it, cleaned the clocks of the old timers. I’m glad to still be in possession of my shirt.

I had some hopes to do some things today, but I had an up and down night with very little “good” sleep, so today was a rest day for me. Now, I’m pinning my hopes on getting to spend an hour at an AA meeting tomorrow because it’s my 15th AA anniversary. I’ve made arrangements for my long-time sponsor to come pick me up and take me to the meeting and I’ll get a little brass medallion with Roman Numeral XV on it. All I really did was not drink and not die for a bunch of consecutive days, but that “don’t die” part seemed dicey a few days last month.

My “belly button” birthday is next month on the 6th and I hope I’ll feel good enough to do a little celebrating then, but that’s too long a timeline for me to contemplate right now.

For a long time, I’ve neglected a couple of thank you notes and I’d like to make up for that. For two months now, my Mom has spent every single day with me. She’s nurtured and cared for me and been my companion. For those same two months, my nights have been spent with Kim, who has fed me, bathed me, cleaned me and my house and my hospital room, monitored my medicines and advocated for me with nurses and sundry when I couldn’t do it for myself. I could not have done this without their support. No idiotic internet blog comment by me can say how integral they have been to my life. I simply would have lost my mind and what little health I’ve still got without them.

Since yesterday was Father’s Day, I’d like to proudly report that both my son Jack and my daughter Rebecca called from their respective homes in New Orleans and Tucson. They are such great people and their calls cheered me up and choked me up with gratitude and love.

I’m sorry that I still seem to be too weak to have much company, but I can see a time when I’m more robust right around the corner. I look forward to seeing familiar faces soon.

Now, go have some pagan ritual, dammit. It’s what I’d do.

Blogblah

Sick of health news?

image-2806

BECAUSE I SAID SO

I had a followup appointment with my surgeons Friday and there was only one piece of news I didn’t want to hear. I had built up a habit of wanting cigarets 200-400 puffs a day over 4 decades and it isn’t going to go away in two weeks just because I would find it convenient.

Bleg.

Other than that, the news was pretty darn good. Chest X rays were clear and so was the blood workup. The head chest cutter, Dr. Peyton, told me he thought I was making a “remarkablly good” recovery and that I should take it easy and not push it so hard.

I have referrals to endocrinology and oncology in a couple weeks to get through their hoops.

While there’s an elevated risk that somewhere in my body there are a few cancer cells in doublets or triplets just looking for a niche, no test is fine enough to track them down and all the tests show me as clear of cancer at this point.

Any day now, I’ll be able to walk around the block by myself and maybe even go to the bathroom regularly and — wonder of wonders — soon, I may be able to shower like a big boy.

As it is, some days are pretty good and I can stay awake most of the day and some days are like last Thursday when I slept 20 of the 24 hours. I’m terribly behind on answering phone calls and emails and such, but I try to do better as much as I can. A special shout out to Rush on the left coast — I’m not ducking you, my friend, just be patient with me please since you know what it’s like to be hospitalized and be sick.

Never before in my life have I ever ever been this sick this long and I want all y’all to know it really really sucks. If you are ever given the choice between being sick and being well, choose well.

Blogblah

A Meme Too Far

Just want to make a short observation about political reporting. For weeks, the “meme” (a sort of made up word I don’t particularly like, but which is serviceable for this purpose) has been that it’s an anti-incumbent year and that the Dems, being the incumbents, will have more than the normal share of problems for a White House in an off-year election. A Deepwater Horizon of digital ink has been spilled about this idea.

image-2803

Vintage RayBans

I respectfully dissent.

Look at last night’s election results without any coloring.

On the East Coast in So. Car., Mrs. Nikki Haley is cruising towards being elected the first woman governor of that state.

In Arkansas, Sen. Blanche Lincoln fought off a stiff male challenge from the left (yes, I intended that).

In Nevada, Sue Lowden and Sharron Angles vied for the right to challenge Majority Leader Harry Reid.

In California, the Republican Party nominated Meg Whitman for Governor and Carley Fiorina to face incumbent U.S. Sen. Barbara Boxer.

I’m not inclined to make too much of this, except to say I think too little has been made of an election in which so many women have played such a prominent role and been so successful at such a high level. I’ll also note that Oklahoma is very likely to have its first woman governor. With the exception of Sen. Lincoln, all those women are Republicans, which seems counterintuitive on several levels considering the policy stances of that party vis the Democratic Party.

Something is going on that has little to do with incumbency, it seems to me, but it also seems that it may be too difficult for political writers to think and write about.

I’m going to leave it there and let you guys draw your own conclusions.

Blogblah

Home again, home again …

image-2796
I’m home.
I have 24/7 care.
I tire very easily, so please give me a little space before you ask to visit. I want to see you and I want to be with you and I won’t be able to say no or goodbye and it won’t be good for me.
I smoked my last cigaret the day before my grand-daughter’s birthday, May 22, so that her birthday would be my sobriety day for every year for the rest of my life. Today is 2 weeks. I feel badly about the relapse between my first night in the ER when I found out I had lung cancer, but it’s hard to call it quits with a lover you’ve had every day for 45 years. Ask Tipper and Al Gore.
Yes, I want a cigaret as I write this. Insane, I know, but I do. After my surgery … think about that, AFTER my surgery … I was finally allowed to get out of bed and do a little walking. I went by a little fountain and pond at NE 13th and Lincoln Blvd and spoke to a woman smoking. She was being treated for MRSA, a drug resistant disease you get in hospitals. It’s screwed up. I wanted a cigaret and moved on. I walked past a gazebo where people in wheelchairs with saline baggs were smoking. I wanted a cigaret and moved on. I was walking through the parking lot between cars, navigating my own bags hanging from a metal hat rack, when I saw a cigaret on the ground. It was like a Rena Parker cigaret, only one or two puffs smoked and then tossed aside. I wanted it. I WANTED IT. I had to stand there for a moment debating. It would hurt like the dickens to bend over and pick it up, but I wanted it. I could smell it. No one could know. Just one puff. I wanted it.
Finally, I walked on. What if it had been the throw away of a MRSA victim?
That’s what stopped me.
I want it right now, if was without the MRSA.
I’m being given pain meds.
Lots of drugs with names that scare the hell out of me. Names like Percoset and Oxycontin. In the hospital, I had other scary drugs like Morphine.
I don’t always think very briskly or in much of a linear fashion when I’m taking these drugs.
Just as I have to live in a world that contains people who can drink alcohol with less damage than I could, I’ll now have to live in a world with people who smoke cigarets. I don’t see the difference in the addictions except that right now, it seems easier to be sober than it does to be nicotine free.
And I’m scared one of these scary pain drugs will sneak up on me. The doctors and nurses and other care givers seem unconcerned and the ones who love me don’t want to see me hurting. I don’t know what to do about it, so I take the drugs when it hurts and I just have to.
I have other things to write to keep people updated, but I just wanted people to read this and know I’m home, I’m OK, and if I’m not in contact it’s not because I don’t love you, it’s because I’ve got a lot on my plate. It’s a big deal to be able to get out of bed and sit up long enough to write just this much.