Into the fading dreams of yesteryear

Spooky times are here again

This delightful decoration is something that I have enjoyed from this nearby neighbor every year. It's always a little different. They have good Halloween stuff, and then wonderful Christmas stuff, before they put it all to bed for the winter. These are mostly new this year, and I especially love the dancing skeletons. (Makes me wonder if they show any difference between males and females, since the pelvic structure should be different for each gender. Right?)

Yesterday, I walked with my friend Steve for the first time since he moved and spent several Saturdays dedicated to getting his several-years-long home moved into a smaller apartment, but one that should be adequate for him and his children, when they visit (two, a boy and a girl. If you can call people in their twenties children. But you know how it is: your kids will always be your kids and expected not to age too quickly.) My son Chris lived to be forty, had a full life and then joined the Army in his thirties. I'm glad he met Silvia, whom he married while he was stationed in Germany. She had a son who was a boy of ten or eleven when they got together. She spoke very little English, so I never got a chance to know her well. Nobody expected Chris to die so young, but I for one am glad he got to experience matrimony and fatherhood, even if he wasn't the boy's the biological father. 

Chris has been gone since 2002, more than two decades. I don't think of him often, but he used to visit my dreams fairly regularly. Not so much now, for some reason; maybe it's because he's reincarnated and is busy living another life. I like to think that we might actually get more than one chance to go around the Universe. But who knows?

I was a very young mother, just shy of my nineteenth birthday when he was born. Neither of us knew what we were doing when we first met, after his unremarkable birth. He weighed seven pounds, seven ounces, and was a pretty normal looking newborn. We were both at the Army Base Hospital, on a ward with seven other mothers. I was the ony one attempting to breastfeed; the others were happy to have their milk dried up and give their babies formula. I don't remember now why I was so adamant about wanting to nurse him. In the early 1960s, it was just not done, and I would turn my rocker around so that I didn't have to watch the other mothers with their bottles. I ended up breastfeeding him for almost six months and wish I had kept it up, but the pressure was still there to join the others and I figured that I gave him a good start in life.

In those days, giving birth was treated very differently than it is today. I was kept in the hospital for several days, and when I gave birth in a civilian hospital to my second child three years later, I wasn't even kept overnight. Thinking of my life as a mother, I am reminded of many memories of happy, laughing babies and a happy mother. Everything changed when Stephen, my second child, contracted spinal meningitis and died. My marriage ended, and I entered a long period of depression. Eventually, however, I rejoined the world and put my sorrows behind me. The one who paid the highest price was Chris, who not only lost his brother, but his mother as well. Derald, his father, stepped up and really helped Chris through that hard period. I was of no help at all.

I had a wonderful job for years, working at the National Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, Colorado, and I got to travel extensively, including many trips to Southeast Asia. Now, here I am, an elderly woman living out her retirement years, with the wonderful man I met while skydiving in the early 1990s. SG and I have now been together for more than three decades, and although we are both dealing with health issues, that's pretty normal for people our age. It's been over a decade since I last made a skydive, but the memories I cherish of those days will remain with me forever. At least I hope so! I no longer take anything for granted, including keeping my mental capacity intact. Losing my sight has been no picnic, but I am adapting, and I can still type on my laptop and read the blogs of some of my dear friends in the blogosphere. It's like my virtual family, actually; I have been following some for decades and feel invested in their lives. I've lost a few friends over the years, and it's no easier than if we saw each other daily. When I think of how different my life would be without you all, I continue to be filled with gratitude for what I can still enjoy every single day.

Lavender at the harbor

I am not sure whether you can see the pretty color of the lavender I saw yesterday at the harbor, because I wanted to try to find a way to share the delight with you through my camera lens. And I am hoping that you will also find a way to share some beauty in your own life with others. It feels good, and looking at the world through a lavender tint makes me happy. Today John will pick me up and transport me to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday breakfast, and then I will return home to share my day with my guy, which will punctuate with hugs and laughter. 

Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Beautiful fall days

Coffee shop antics

Yesterday I got to spend some time at the coffee shop with two of my best friends: Lily and Steve. Because when the day began, it was dark and cloudy with some rain, Steve offered to pick me up and transport me to the coffee shop, and I took him up on it. I knew that he would not be going on a walk with me yesterday morning, since he still has plenty of stuff to do after moving out of his home of several years.

Frankly, I haven't had the same feeling about my walking routine since I quit the Trailblazers and have been getting exercise in different ways lately. Mainly, the two afternoons I work as a volunteer at the Senior Center, which usually gives me each of those days a minimum of 10,000 steps during the job of setting up, serving the patrons, hustling coffee and tea, and finally the cleaning up and breakdown stage. That activity, plus yoga and shorter walks, seems to be helping me reach my exercise goals rather easily. My Watch keeps track of whether I am getting as much activity this year as I did last, and most days shows that I am not slacking. However, that said, I notice that I seem to be putting on some unwanted weight, which could be because I also get two really good Senior Center takeout meals on the days that I work. Not to mention that I seem to be drinking more beer and wine these days, for various reasons

In the above picture, taken by Steve, you can see Lily and I playing on my iPad with an old set of pictures, where we used an app to make ourselves into cats, with whiskers, ears, and eye makeup, no less. When I looked at that shot, I realized I am not only looking older, but my face is much fuller. (The picture on the iPad was taken almost five years ago. Lily doesn't look all that different, though.) Nothing is quite as stressful as having to work to button my pants, I must say. Maybe I'll go on a diet soon, but I'm not finding the impetus just quite yet. I'll bet I am almost ten pounds over my usual weight, but the scale that would tell me the truth is not being used. It keeps trying to catch my eye but I pretend that I don't see it.

Farmers' Market fall flowers

After Steve left, Lily and I walked to the Farmers' Market and enjoyed seeing all the wares and especially the beautiful flowers that emerge this time every year. The clouds cleared and the sun came out. We had a great time looking at everything, and Lily bought a bouquet to take home. Everyone seemed happy and in a good mood. That also lifted my own spirits, too. There is nothing quite as nice as spending hours with my bestie and absorbing all the good vibrations that surrounded us.

We then decided to have lunch at Whole Foods, where we used to go after our Saturday walk, but it has changed and wasn't nearly as good as we remembered. So, that will probably not be repeated, and it was worthwhile to revisit an old haunt and say goodbye to it. We enjoyed being together, as always.

There are so many reasons to be happy with my world today, not least of which is because I live in a place where even when it's fall or wintertime, we have decent weather and don't have to bundle up and haul out snow shovels. Here, the snow stays mostly in the mountains where it belongs.

But there are dark clouds, too: I haven't mentioned my eyes lately, but they continue to change, and not for the better. It is harder and harder to pretend otherwise, but I can still see well enough to write these posts and read books on my Kindle. I still have all of my peripheral vision, but central vision continues to deteriorate. And yesterday, I got a call from my friend John who told me that the results have come back from the tests he took for Parkinson's Disease, and he has it. I looked it up online and realize that he's had symptoms for a long time, but they hadn't interfered much with his daily life. Other than the tremor he developed, he's pretty much the same, just slower. He will continue to go to the gym a couple times a week, since that should slow the progression of the disease. I am sad whenever family and friends get such news, but it's an inevitable part of aging. 

My Guy is going to have a tooth extracted this coming week, on his journey to eventually having a bridge built in his mouth. Other than the discomfort, there is also the expense, which runs into the thousands. But he is resilient and will adjust. We bought a Vitamix blender to help him keep up his food intake of good veggies, even if they do have to be in smoothies, rather than lightly cooked, the way he likes. He has managed to lose weight, even as I have gained. It sure would be nice if I could transfer some of my expanding hips to him, but unfortunately it doesn't work that way. 

However, I am not going to complain about my life, since it's pretty darn good, and I'll be busy looking for new activities that will cheer me up. I've already done the Wordle for today, and I'll play my other favorite games on the New York Times, and I'll hopefully enjoy a good breakfast with John this morning, like we usually do.

I hope you will have a wonderful week ahead, and that you will find ways to enjoy your days, as they move into fall and leave the summer months behind. I am really fortunate to live here with my sweet partner. The days ahead will get colder and wetter, but that's fall and winter for ya. Those months are followed by the inevitable springtime, so as I enjoy the colorful leaves as they carpet the ground, I'll look forward to some cozy evenings in my apartment with my pal. Until we meet again, dear friends, I wish you all good things.

Falling into fall

New display at the Food Co-op

Yes, it's that time again: fall is just a couple days away, meaning that the summer is finally past for the year, and now we begin the time when all the leaves on deciduous trees turn colors and carpet the ground with leaves, and the temperatures will hopefully moderate. I am just not a fan of heat and endless sunshine, much preferring clouds and sun, along with cool breezes and the need to wear gloves and other such cold-weather attire.

Fall begins this year at 11:19am on Monday, September 22, here in the Northern Hemisphere of Planet Earth, Pacific Time. I am always amazed that our planet is large enough to have a Northern and Southern Hemisphere, meaning that the Equator is where we change from one hemisphere and we move from warm to cool weather, and on the other side, we move from cool to warm weather. I've never spent any time at the Equator, although I did go there once when I visited the Galapagos Islands. From my very insulated perspective, I am at the center of the Universe, and my planet and star are right at the center of everything. Of course, this only seems so because I am a small insignificant little organism, one that (in the Cat Stevens song) "only dances on the earth for a short while," but the rest of our vast Universe is unknown to me and the rest of us on this tiny blue sphere. I feel quite blessed to have been born at a time when my species has begun to expand our knowledge through telescopes and astronomers who study our place in the scheme of things. If I had my life to live over, I would have become an astronomer. But instead, I spent (or may I should say squandered) my earlier years studying boys and the fashions of the times. I was only a mediocre student, not really interested in the world at large, much less the vast universe in which we live.

But I discovered science fiction at an early age, in my teens, and that was what expanded my horizons. Unfortunately, nobody was at all interested in my interests or even my lackluster grades. Plus, I was a GIRL during a time when nobody expected me to excel at anything, other than perhaps how many babies I might have. Times have changed, but I can only ponder how different my life would have been in a different setting and time. But in any event, as I look back at my life, it's been a very good one, even without children to continue to raise or grandchildren. Instead, I have a fantastic partner, who is my age, and who takes care of me wonderfully, even through his own tribulations.

We got our Covid shots on Thursday. The local pharmacy has walk-in clinics in the afternoon, and we got there just as they opened their doors around 2:00pm. We filled out some paperwork and sat down to wait our turn. I was the first person seen, and before I knew what had happened, I had received the shot. It was one of the new batch and different from previous shots I've received. It stung when it went in, no surprise there, but by the time I was ready for bed, my arm really hurt. Friday and Saturday it was pretty sore, but this morning, Sunday, there is only a tiny residual soreness. We wanted to get our shots before they might be curtailed by the government, although we live in Washington state, where it might be awhile before we start to see some problems that other states will deal with first. Our state has joined together with the other West Coast states (and Hawaii) to create our own Covid commission, giving us the latest formulation and ability to access them without having to pay,

One of the best things about have a blog is being able to search for stuff that happened already, and I found it was last September when we got Covid. I didn't remember being all that sick, but the post reminded me that it was no picnic. You can read the post here, if you're interested. Since I re-read how sick I was, I am not willing to go without a Covid shot. I'm a year older, too. My Guy received not only the shot for Covid, but also one for the flu. I am not willing to do both at once, and will get a flu shot later in the season.

Anyway, I realize that I am running out of time to write much more, before it will be time to get up and start the rest of my day. John will be here in less than an hour, and I need to get my exercises done and take my vitamins before that happens. And by the time I write in here next week, hopefully I will be healthy and happily looking at all the new fall colors in the trees. They are already looking wonderful, but there is more to come.

With that, I will begin the rest of my day. I've already read some blogs and done the Wordle, and had a nice conversation with SG, who got up to visit the bathroom and I took the opportunity to read what I had already written to him. But the time is slipping away, so I will bring this to a close, with a fervid wish that all of us will be happy and relatively healthy until we meet again next week. It's a beautiful time of the year in my neighborhood, so hopefully I'll get some pictures to share with you then.

Don't forget to appreciate the world we share. It's beautiful here and hope it is where you live, too. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends.

Mudras and more

Buddha amongst the flowers

I took this picture yesterday while at the Food Co-op, looking for something to enhance today's post. I didn't have a walk yesterday, since Steve was busy and I was feeling a little lost without anybody to walk with. I did get in a short walk and then took the bus to the Cordata Co-op. The entire Co-op garden is filled with different statues, along with seasonal flowers, and this one spoke to me, being one I've seen many times in many places. It also gave me something to write about: my time doing yoga and sitting in meditation. I did start when I was in my twenties. It was something I've always been attracted to and decided long ago to try it.  I was living a very full and interesting life at the time. Now I seem to be winding down from being so active, and I'm actually finding it rather peaceful. There are advantages to learning how to settle into being old, and many of them are beginning to feel quite normal, rather than feeling stuck in old habits. In the mornings, once I get out of bed, I usually take a shower and dress, and then make my way to the privacy of my front porch and perform the Five Tibetan Rites on my yoga mat, which only takes about ten minutes. It's been decades now that I've been an aficionado of them, and I do notice when I've injured myself I cannot do them all, but I always try and see what happens. Sometimes my back goes out and I cannot do the last Rite properly. But my body always manages to get better as I keep working on it as the days and weeks pass.

After that, I come inside and get out my meditation bench, which I started using because my knees no longer enjoy being in lotus pose, or even wanting to bend and sit cross-legged. When we first moved to Bellingham, I sought out someone who makes these benches and had one made especially for me. Then it sat for years in a corner, until I decided once again to sit in meditation. It makes all the difference in my ability to sit with a straight back comfortably. When I am in yoga class, I use a block and a blanket to simulate the bench. The main thing is that I need to find a way to sit without pain or needing to squirm. 

I had also forgotten the best mudras to use when sitting, so I did a little research to find the best ones. What is a mudra, you ask?

Mudra means “seal” or “closure” in Sanskrit. We use these gestures mostly in meditation or in pranayama practice to direct the flow of energy within the body by using the hands. When we place our hands in yoga mudras, we stimulate different areas of the brain and create a specific energy circuit in the body.

You follow an ancient tradition when you sit quietly in meditation with your hands clasped in your lap. The one used by this statue and by myself is called the dhyana mudra and is used by most beginners. I learned it years ago and still feel it's the easiest for me to sit with. Here is a link to 7 Common Yoga Mudras Explained.  Some of them are pretty elaborate and must be used by experienced practitioners. The other one that I use every day is the prayer position, with both palms clasped together at the heart (the Anjali mudra). We also start and end our yoga class with that one.

Am I any different today because of practicing yoga and sitting in meditation? I don't know, but if I skip a session, I don't feel quite right; the day doesn't start like I feel it should, but what do I know? There is only one of me, so I cannot do a double-blind study to see what might be different. It has now become a habit to begin my day and so I continue to enjoy sitting quietly and counting my breaths. Years ago I used a mantra when sitting, but I don't any more. I might explore doing that again someday. 

After those two exercises, the Tibetans and meditation, I am ready to start the rest of my day. I slip on my shoes and head out the front door in order to catch the bus. There are only two days during the week when I don't, on Sundays when John picks me up and takes me to breakfast. And Saturdays, when I drive to the coffee shop in order to get there early. The buses don't start running on the weekends as early as they do on weekdays. And of course there are holidays when there are no buses at all. But my morning routine is pretty much the same every day, rain or shine.

I see the same people on most mornings who also ride the bus, and most of them are busy on their phones, not really present to the world, in my opinion. I keep mine on its pocket and observe the world around me. I spend some time wondering about the others and notice that they also have habits that they must use to get up every day, and I wonder about how they start their mornings before catching the bus. It's not something people talk about much, but I'm pretty sure everyone has a routine. Or maybe not. Do you?

This past weekend my niece Sara had her second baby, another girl, and I got to see a picture of the beautiful eight-pound new resident of our planet. The two girls are about the same distance in age from one another that my sister Norma Jean and I are, two-and-a-half years. I don't remember a time when she wasn't part of my life, and I suspect it will be the same with these two. Welcome, Clarke! She still hasn't been given a middle name, but I'm sure that is coming. And here we are, starting the cycle again. I have the old song from Cat Stevens rolling around in my head:

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time

You're only dancin' on this earth for a short while

And though your dreams may toss and turn you now

They will vanish away like your dads best jeans

Denim blue, faded up to the sky

And though you want them to last forever

You know they never will

You know they never will

And the patches make the goodbye harder still

It was a favorite song of mine from the 1970s, and I still think it's relevant to the world we live in today.  And just writing this and listening to the song again, I am feeling very content and happy to begin another day in the same old way. I do hope you and your loved ones will have a good week until we meet again. My dear partner is sleeping quietly next to me. He's facing his challenges bravely, and I love the days we share and get to hang out together. Until next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.

Air quality isn't good right now

Today's sunrise at the Harbor

 When I went out to the coffee shop yesterday morning, the sun looked like an orange ball in the sky, making everything look a little strange. This is being caused by plenty of uncontrolled burns all over the state of Washington, as well as from Canada. From the AQI (Air Quality Index):

The region is experiencing air quality ranging from unhealthy for sensitive groups to unhealthy, particularly in areas close to active wildfires in Washington, Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming.

This happens every year about this time, because it's been a dry summer, as it usually is, but lately it's been hot, too, causing low humidity and lots of fires burning out of control. We have been spared for most of the year, but now it's catching up with us.  By around 9:00am, it had started to look a little more normal, and Steve and I walked down to the Harbor for a nice excursion. I didn't mind the cool temperature at all, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, the weather cleared and it began to heat up. Not too awfully much, really, and we are fortunate to be near Bellingham Bay where the air gets more breeze and tends to moderate more quickly. On the other side of the Cascade Mountains, for example, the air quality is much worse. For the remainder of the weekend, it should continue to improve around here, although I don't think the eastern slope of the Cascades will become good any time soon.

Pretty flowerpot at the Harbor

I love fall flowers, all bright colors, flowers that don't get appreciated as much when everything everywhere is in bloom. And I have seen some early color changes in some susceptible trees in the neighborhood. We usually have a riotous display, and I am hoping we will enjoy that again this year. You'll see some of the pictures, of course.

I am truly beginning to feel my age. My outdoor activities are becoming more challenging, and I have to remember to be glad for what I can still accomplish, considering that I am well ensconced into my eighties. But one thing I notice lately that is new, my joints seem to be wearing out. Both shoulders give me pain when I accidentally move with too much energy and they make some scary sounds as well. As long as I pay attention, I can manage pretty well. Both shoulders and one hip continue to remind me to be careful when working out. 

So, my joints are in the same ballpark as my eyes and hearing, but surprisingly, my knees are holding up just fine. All those braces I've carried for years might have made a difference, but at my age, I'm just going to continue to do what I can and hope for the best. Aging is, as they say, not for sissies. I am grateful for yoga classes and a good instructor, because I am able to stay upright and manage lunges and stretches and will continue to do so for a bit longer. I see where I am headed. It's a normal process, but I keep forgetting that I cannot continue to be as active as I used to be. The old body reminds me that it, and I, am getting older every day.

Today I'll be going to the corner coffee shop and picking up a couple of bagels with cream cheese to go with our usual Americano drinks. I like having lots of espresso with not too much liquid, and I add a little cream to soften the taste. John is not picking me up to make the journey to Fairhaven, as he decided to go dancing last night and knew he would want to stay in bed longer this morning, rather than getting up early and going to breakfast with me. Being such a creature of habit, I really miss seeing him. I hope he had a good time dancing and socializing with his old friends. 

As usual, I am looking for the good things in my life that I can appreciate and be grateful for. One of those wonderful things happens to be SG, who is (or was) sleeping next to me until just now when he got up to visit the bathroom. He'll be back, and will settle into his side of the bed and fall asleep again. He will be getting a bone marrow biopsy this week, to help his doctor decide what procedure to take in managing his lymphoma. Although he's been responding well to the oral cancer drug, there are some numbers that need to come up, and he might be needing to start "real" chemo treatment, but we don't know yet. Hoping for the best, and just super glad he's as well and vigorous as he is today. 

I am looking forward to the delightful weather we are now enjoying, other than the air quality of course, since the summer's heat seems to be gone, and it won't be back soon. Fall is my favorite season, and we're so lucky to be up here in the upper reaches of the country, and not down in the southern states where it's still full-on summer. I am hoping that wherever you are in the world right now, you are having a good time with dear friends and furry companions. We all deserve to be surrounded by joy and happiness, so let's work on that, okay? Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.

Now even they are gone

Taken yesterday, all healed up

The final post about my cancer surgery. There, between my shirt's collar and my old wrinkly neck, is the final scar left from the surgery on the 14th. Last week, I still had the remnants of the stitches, but just as predicted, they dissolved at  right around two weeks. I have finally stopped putting all that petroleum jelly on the wound, and just yesterday I realized that the stitches are indeed absorbed and gone, just like the cancer which caused the entire procedure to begin with. I've read enough information to feel very reassured that I had a good surgeon and a positive outcome. Next time (if there is one), I will not be so scared, just glad I have the ability to get some professional treatment. So I am putting the event into the annals of my personal history, adding it to my many adventures as a human on this distant planet, circling our beautiful Sun in our tiny little Solar System.

Our weather has moderated considerably from the hot days of the past weeks, and I think today we will reach the low to mid-seventies (F) as we celebrate the unofficial end of summer with Labor Day, coming Monday, September 1. It's also the anniversary of the day that my partner made his first skydive, in 1962, so very very long ago. My first jump was many years later, in 1991. In trying to find the actual date, I ended up re-read many earlier posts from this blog, and I was really impressed by how important these posts are to jog my memory, more than two decades later.

We forget a lot when time goes by, don't we? But there are some things and events that will never fade from memory. Now, I am in my early eighties, but twenty years ago I was jumping every weekend at Skydive Snohomish, making friends, sharing fun skydives with them, and cherishing every moment of those days. I am incredibly grateful for the ability to travel back in time through these posts, to remember, once again, how much fun we had during those unforgettable summer days.

And now I am putting my Trailblazer days behind me, right beside those skydiving adventures, while I learn to navigate the loss of my vision, the aging of these old bones of mine, and learning to appreciate my volunteer work at the Senior Center and the friends I am making through that activity.

One day I will no longer be fit enough to do the volunteer work I am currently doing, since it entails at least several thousand steps, keeping going for two solid hours, but for now I am managing quite well. My days are well defined, but still when I wake up in the morning, I need to check my phone to remind myself of the time and date. I keep my phone on the stand next to my bed, along with the charger for my watch and phone. I slip them on and then fix myself a cup of tea, which will soon pull from my bed when the whistle sounds.

That occurs every morning, no matter which day of the week it is, and here I sit writing my Sunday post. I usually get back to my laptop to read my selected comics. Sunday is my favorite day for this activity, because on Sunday I get to read more complete strips, including the Doonesbury one that is current for today, while all the rest of the week I am only reading old Doonesbury reruns from decades ago. It's interesting to notice how much I look forward to my weekly routines and feel sad when something happens to change things up. Definitely a creature of habit.

From my neighborhood

I also walk most mornings to the bus, a half-mile excursion, leaving the apartment at exactly 7:04 in order to catch the bus at 7:23 and end up at the terminus of the line. Once I have had my morning coffee at Adagio's and visited with whoever shows up (usually John is already there when I arrive). Some mornings Steve joins me, which changes with his work schedule. Right now he is in Hawaii visiting his mother for her 92nd birthday. He will return next week before his classes start again. And sometimes R.J. joins us, always a treat, but it's only an occasional one, since he's a musician and you know they keep late hours. 

Tomorrow is one of the days that I don't especially look forward to, since the buses aren't running, the coffee shop is closed, and the holiday disrueepts the rest of my daily activity. Senior Center is closed, no yoga class, but I will mostly likely get an early morning walk in, probably to Squalicum Beach and the new pier. The weather should be perfect.

As you can see, life is good for me in these closing days of summer. I have noticed some leaves already turning, reminding me of the riot of color to come. So, I have much to be grateful for, and I don't forget my virtual family, and your own posts that I read every day. I almost always work several of the NYT puzzles at some point during the day, and make sure I haven't missed any posts since I last checked.

With that, I will leave you with a Quote of the Day: (apropos of nothing)

The first rule of any technology used in a business is that automation applied to an efficient operation will magnify the efficiency. The second is that automation applied to an inefficient operation will magnify the inefficiency. —Bill Gates

Thinking of AI, of course. I hope you have a wonderful holiday and enjoy the company of your family, or friends, or animals, or books. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Just the stitches remain

Lily and me at the coffee shop, taken by Steve

Lily is such a good friend, and she wanted to share coffee yesterday morning with me and Steve, before the two of us (Steve and I) went on our usual Saturday morning walk. She always looks so pretty, and yesterday morning was no exception. Another breath of fresh air, and I was wearing my usual look. You can see under the scarf around my neck that the scar is coming along nicely, and I am very happy to see it beginning to get smaller and smaller. By this time next week the dissolving stitches should be gone, or almost so. All in all, the entire procedure has been minimal; my fear was the hardest part to deal with, especially the fear that the cancer had already spread, which it hadn't.

I learned online that dissolving stitches are usually absorbed in 7-14 days, and it's now been 10, so things are proceeding normally. I notice that my awareness of the wound is no longer constant, and that there are moments when I completely forget about having had the surgery. I like to think that now life can return to normal, but I am quickly forgetting what "normal" looks like in this scary political environment we all live in. The whole world feels like the future is truly uncertain, especially here in the US as the government has taken over the entire Washington, DC city, and is getting ready to do the same in Chicago. Are we ever going to have a safe and normal life again? I wonder.

Fortunately, we are in the waning stages of summer, as we approach the traditional end of the season with Labor Day coming on September 1, the first Monday in the month. So the three-day Labor Day weekend is coming up soon, like in a week. Our heat wave (which seems pretty tame when I look at the rest of the country) will pass after today. We got to 89 yesterday and I was quite uncomfortable when outside, but in our apartment, with the fans going, it was quite pleasant. It's the only time of the year when I actually wear shorts. Last week I ended up doing my usual routine (in shorts), and it was almost easy, just remembering to add a scarf when outdoors, and doing my Thursday and Friday volunteer work without a hitch.

The only thing that is not going as planned is that John called yesterday to cancel our usual Sunday morning breakfast. When it's this hot, he doesn't get to sleep until late, and he decided he would rather sleep in than meet me at 7:15am. I'll get my coffee fix at the local corner stand, which has excellent coffee these days. And Steve leaves next weekend for his annual trip to Hawaii for his mother's birthday, so he won't be around for a couple of weeks. Then he returns to begin the fall semester at the college, and things will return to a semblance of normal, at least I hope so.

I am so lucky to have such good friends, and lots to keep me occupied until I can get back to walking in cooler weather. It's funny that as I settle into my easy chair, it seems my body is encouraging me to go in that sedentary direction. My right shoulder keeps going out on me, as well as my right sacrum, both at times I don't expect. I still walk at least a couple of miles every day, as I have a half-mile trip to the bus, and the trip back home as well. It gives me the daily walk that I crave, even if there are body parts that would rather stay home. I think of my friend Linda in Seattle who is struggling to walk a couple of miles a day, but she does it for the same reason I do: we don't want to stop until we simply must.

I loaded a new book onto my Kindle, Why Buddhism is True, by Robert Wright. You know I have had an abiding interest in Buddhism, but I hadn't heard of this book until my guy suggested I might enjoy reading it. He has a hard copy that doesn't help me much these days, but this one has captured my attention and is just what I need to read at this point in my life. The author writes in a chatty style that I appreciate, rather than ponderous and preachy.

Written with the wit, clarity, and grace for which Wright is famous, Why Buddhism Is True lays the foundation for a spiritual life in a secular age and shows how, in a time of technological distraction and social division, we can save ourselves from ourselves, both as individuals and as a species.

This is from the link on Amazon that gives the potential buyer some idea of what the book is about. It's easy to read and I've read about 20% of the book already, and I've gotten some chuckles and rueful recognition of some of my erroneous beliefs. I highly recommend Wright's book, even though I still have much of it to read. With my eyesight failing, it has to be a good book for me to keep reading. I recently finished Barbara Kingsolver's book about Appalachia and her fictional character, Demon Copperhead and enjoyed it tremendously. I was sorry to have it end, but this new book has helped me to find a new path forward. Once I can no longer read books on my Kindle, I'll move to audiobooks.

So life is good, I'm finding my way through the summer months of heat and too much sun, and looking forward to my favorite time of the year: fall. Already I'm seeing some trees beginning to change colors, giving me a preview of what's to come. I do hope you will be finding some happiness and satisfaction in the days and weeks to come. It always helps to find pathways forward into enjoyment of our one precious life. I hope that the coming days will bring you satisfaction and happiness. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Cancer is gone

See that little pink spot on my neck?

Well, that little spot was the only thing still visible from the biopsy that was taken a few weeks ago. The wound healed nicely, and then this past Thursday I had the Mohs surgery on that spot to remove the Squamous cell carcinoma in my neck. The doctor knew just what she was doing. I went into the examination room, where she and her assistant draped me and then gave me dozens of little stingy shots of lidocaine, before she gave me my one and only tissue removal. I was surprised when I saw the cut, thinking it would be a "shave," but it was no such thing. She knew just what tissue was needed, and she drew a picture and then took the following section out of my neck:

She went pretty deep

It really does look like an eye to me. After having taken a look at the images from the biopsy, the surgeon cut deep in the middle (the "pupil", then then took some tissue from the "whites.") It was a painless procedure, once the lidocaine took effect, and then I went back into the main waiting room while the doctor sent the tissue to the lab. 

I had just gotten situated and started reading my book, when someone called my name and said I was done. The lab confirmed that the carcinoma had been successfully excised. I was flabbergasted that it had taken so little time. I then needed to have the wound sewn up, which took considerably longer than the removal. Two assistants worked to get more lidocaine in (which I couldn't feel), and then started up the sewing. Some tugging and yanking. With that much numbing juice running through my neck, it was also a painless procedure. Here is what my neck looks like now:

Stitches galore 

And now here I am, cancer free (the as far as I know anyway), and getting ready to go to breakfast with John in a short while. I went to the coffee shop on the bus yesterday, my first solo trip since the surgery, and I slept quite well last night, with only a little discomfort. But I realize that during the next two weeks I need to give special care to the area, keep it well lubricated with Vaseline, and take it easy. Don't let it get infected, and not try to drive, not wanting to break any of the dissolvable stitches by forgetting that I'm injured. Yes, I could do that easily.

There were a few people in the waiting room with me who were also patients; some it was easy to tell, like the woman with the big white bandage on her nose, but others had their cancers where you couldn't see. I feel very lucky to have had such a good surgeon and her team of assistants, but I am not wanting to go through this again any time soon. However, now that the mystery of how it's done is behind me, I wouldn't be nearly as frightened as I was before.

Once I get back from breakfast with John, my friend Michelle will take me for an afternoon walk somewhere, and we'll chat and feel life getting back to normal. The weather broke, and we had an inch of rain to green up the lawns (meaning more mowing), but it's pleasant and now that we are well into August, I hope we are not going to have any more hot spells.

I hope that the coming week will bring all of us some peace of mind, some good weather with nobody being flooded out, burned up from the heat, or any other uncomfortable situation. It's been a tough time in the history of the world, I'd venture to say, and I'm looking forward to some good news, now that I am cancer free!

August doings

Steve finishing up his Shave Ice treat

 Yesterday, Steve and I walked the entire length of Fairhaven's Boulevard Park, from the coffee shop to the Fairhaven Green and back. The red band in the above picture is Steve's own design on his pack, with no way for me to tone down the color to match the rest of the scenery. But never mind, it has made all the other colors fade into the background a little but doesn't change the bright and beautiful sunshine that we enjoyed. Summer is here and we will get a taste of what the rest of the country has been dealing with. We might even reach the mid-80s today, or by Monday or Tuesday (Gasp!). It's been lovely, actually having had such a mild and comfortable summer (so far anyway). While I have watched the temperatures in the rest of the country climb to levels I could not easily deal with, we have instead been forced to endure having to wear a jacket for most of the day, rather than tank tops and sandals. 

Since I last wrote in here, I received what I consider to be a rather sudden date for the Mohs surgery: this coming Thursday, August 14. It will be a day-long affair, with me and SG arriving at the surgery building at 8:30am, and we are told to expect a long day, possibly as long as eight hours, or maybe even more. This surgery will be performed by Joy Makdisi, the surgeon, on me and several other people, sort of a community of patients. All of us will have a segment of tissue removed from our cancer, and then while it is being evaluated in the lab, other people will have the same procedure done, making all of us in this together. One "shave" at a time, one after another. As soon as the cancer is deemed "gone" for each patient, they will sew the person up and send them on their way. I suspect most people will have several "shaves" before it's considered gone. You have to hope that you will be one of the lucky ones to be finished early.

After the procedure is done, the patient needs to go home and spend one to two weeks doing light movement and nothing too strenuous that might make the stitches come loose. Almost all forms of exercise are to be avoided, except for walking. I hope that several of my usual yoga routines will also be okay, but I will make sure before I try them on for size.

At this point, nobody knows how deep the cancer goes, or how wide the contaminated tissue might extend. By this time next week, however, I'll know so much more about the prognosis and how long before I can get back to living the rest of my life. I am very glad to know it's going to be removed soon. That doesn't mean I am not anxious about the procedure, but I don't have to wonder for weeks whether they can easily remove it or not.

Apparently this procedure is routine, and I keep running into people who have experienced it already. For some, it seems it was rather straightforward, but for others not so much. I won't know which category I'm in until I go through it, but I'm hoping for the best outcome. At first I thought I wouldn't even want to go through it, pretending that the cancer would just recede and quietly go away. But that's not how it works, so here I am getting ready for Thursday's procedure,  and realizing that I am not ready to let it all go just yet. Old age is no fun, but it's superior to the alternative.

I used to think of myself as fearless, but now I realize that's a myth I made up. I am not only frightened by what's happening to me, but I also know that this trajectory of diminishing abilities is my future. It's inevitable, and most of the time I am fine with it, but there are moments when I feel very sad that I have grown so old and am on my way to (dare I say it?) becoming... feeble. It's always a good feeling to wake after a good night's sleep and stride out the door feeling like a million bucks. I still have moments like that, but they are few and far between these days. 

Never mind. I will concentrate on all the good I experience every day: good people, good weather, and wonderful walks. During the five-mile walk yesterday, I enjoyed every moment of it. I don't have to look very far for gratitude.

When I'm grateful for all the blessings, it puts away all the stress about things not in my control. Things like long hours, aging, pollution, scandals... it helps me create perspective by just focusing on being grateful. Take that moment twice a day with yourself. —Darby Stanchfield

It's like taking vitamins, which may or may not make me healthy, but I do it because I believe they help. Taking the time to look up from my own little life and expand my horizons, it always helps. Reading a good book is also helpful, and I can still do that using the low vision setting on my Kindle. Reading right now I am halfway through Barbara Kingsolver's Pulitzer Prize winning book, Demon Copperhead. She writes about Damon (Demon to his friends) who grew up poor and without family in Appalachia. It's very absorbing and incredibly well written, as all her books are. I recommend it.

And the wonderful posts and comments I receive from my virtual family. There are people all over the world who write blogs about their lives, and it certainly gives me a different perspective on my own life. I am part of the community of bloggers who have been doing this for a long time, and as we change and age, we grow and learn from those who are journeying along with us. It's a good time to be alive, and I will take just a teeny moment out of my ruminations to experience gratitude and happy thoughts. Why not? Yes!

Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends. Be well.

Waiting for the referral

Me and Lily, taken by Steve

Yesterday, Lily joined Steve and me at the coffee shop. She was wanting to do some grocery shopping at the Farmers' Market and had some time before, which she spent with the two of us. She had her usual latte, while I enjoyed my double Americano, and Steve filled his own coffee cup holder with his usual straight coffee. Then we set out for a walk. It was shortened by Lily's visit, but it was worth it to have her tell some stories about her recent visit with her son, who came up from Guatemala to help celebrate her new status as an American citizen.

I have been more than a little rattled by last week's discovery that the thing on my neck is cancerous and needs to be removed as soon as possible. Then I found out when I tried to see if the referral had been accomplished, that no, it hasn't happened yet because my primary dermatologist was on vacation, had just returned and didn't get around to it yet. I do know that the referral should happen early next week, but I just don't understand why it is taking so long, I found that indeed I will probably see a young female doctor by the name of Joy Makdisi for the procedure. I think it's auspicious that someone named "Joy" will remove the growth. But shouldn't I be first in line?

The pathology report didn't inspire any confidence, either. This is what the report said:

FINAL DIAGNOSIS

SKIN, LEFT NECK, SHAVE:

Squamous cell carcinoma in situ, involving the deep and peripheral tissue edges.

Yikes! I don't like the sound of that. What does it mean that it's in the "deep and peripheral tissue edges"? How deep is deep? and if it's in the peripheral edges, does that mean there is more and that it might be hard to remove it all? I am sending myself into a tizzy, just considering what it all means. And of course, until the Mohs surgery is accomplished, nobody really knows the answers to these questions. I will be so happy to have a date to look forward to, hopefully sometime very soon. But I also realize this is not an optimal time for getting such surgeries scheduled, with so many people on vacation during the summer months. At least I will eventually have the surgery and my insurance should cover most of the costs. Even if I had to pay up front, it would be worth it just to get this taken care of.

In the meantime, I am not going to worry about the Canadian MacuMira eye treatment until this is cleared up. Both are going to be expensive, and I am willing to take care of it all myself, if necessary. I don't trust the insurance companies to be there when I need them. These days everything is complicated.

I guess this is what it means to be an elderly person in her (almost) mid-eighties. Her health not likely to become miraculously better in the future, as our bodies do wear down and out as we use them. I notice in the obituaries there are many people who die of "normal" causes and they are my age or even younger. As for my parents, neither of them lived as long as I already have, and genetics plays a role in our ability to live long and healthy lives. I wonder how long they might have lived if statins and better treatment for high blood pressure had been available to them when they were my age. Oh wait, they never made it into their eighties, or even their seventies! Daddy was 62, and Mama was 69 when they died, fourteen years apart.

Mama had a sibling, my Uncle Joe, who developed melanoma and died from it. He was a veteran and lived with my grandmother until he passed away. I remember that he had a mole on his earlobe; he didn't realize it was cancer, and it spread to his brain. He went into a coma for several weeks, but he did eventually come out of it. Interestingly, after he recovered, he then spoke with a thick German accent, and nobody even knew whether he had ever learned the language! He wasn't very old when he died, and he never married. I remember him still, and I even spent several months staying with Grandma and sleeping in his bed, long after he was gone. I remember Mama telling me he was exceptionally bright and accomplished many things during his life, but all of that is gone now. Nobody alive remembers. These days, I feel a kinship with him, as I try not to succumb to this skin cancer. My thoughts gravitate often to that spot on my neck and each time, I pray for guidance.

 No actual events in most people's lives that will be remembered for long after we die. There are a few in history, such as the ancient Greek philosophers, whose works are still read and revered, and other notable people who still give today's world much to think about. I still read and cherish the poetry of Emily Dickinson, who was in her fifties when she died, but she had written some of the most incredible poems by that time.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And reverie. The reverie alone will do, If bees are few.

So much of the feeling of her her poems lingers long after I have forgotten the words. Years ago I went on a five-day solo backpacking trip, and I spent many hours committing several of her poems to memory. They are still there to be accessed when I need them. I am so glad that I can still read well enough, using my low vision setting on my Kindle, to read and appreciate other great poets today.

Longevity of one's life is not a given, or even something to be desired. There are many who have managed to fulfill their mission here on Earth in a short time, and lay down with a sense of accomplishment, ready to move on to the next adventure. I hope to be one of them, but I won't know if I made it until I, too, am at the end of my life and look back on everything I went through. I also believe that this life is not the end of my consciousness, but it is only a belief. I do believe that love is timeless, and that as I surround myself in love and charity, I will end up having been glad to have been here.

My post is pretty much finished, and yes, John will be here before I know it, ready to whisk me off to breakfast. My dear virtual family are often in my thoughts these days, and you know that means you, too. I am incredibly grateful for you, and for your own long (or short) life. Be well until we meet again, dear friends.

Playing along with the Universe

Steve and me at the Bellingham street fair

Yesterday, Steve and I met at the coffee shop, as usual for a Saturday, and went for a nice leisurely walk in town. I'm not sure exactly what this fair is called, but most of the booths had used items for sale, and I almost bought myself a $20 shirt. I thought at first it was a jacket, but it had no pockets and was covered with delightful sparkly things and fit perfectly. Unfortunately for them, they also had a full-length mirror, and I could see it was not quite a "me" item. We had a good time walking around and examining all the wares, but neither of us bought anything after all.

In the background of the shot, you can see the Mt. Baker Theater sticking up, showing exactly where we are in town. It looks almost like a launchpad, but it's not as distant as it seems from the picture. We walked around town and walked to the Farmers' Market, which wasn't open yet, so we didn't get our usual treats there, either.

Nevertheless, it was a very busy week. I am so grateful to Steve for his weekly Saturday walk with me. Today we walked around the downtown neighborhood, not taking our usual trek to Fairhaven or to the harbor. We are so lucky to have such a wonderful cool atmosphere, with the temperature in the mid-sixties, while much of the country is sweltering in hot and humid weather. Still we have August and September to get  through, with the most heat in this area starting about now (but it's delightful) and ending sometime in mid- to late September. 

If you read my other blog, Eye on the Edge, you know that I am now finished with my hikes with the Trailblazers, because of my failing eyesight and my inability to leave my fellow hikers to their own devices, while I struggle to find my footing. Some of you have felt it wasn't necessary, but I myself know that I would never have left on my own, without a bit of a push from the organizers. It doesn't mean I won't continue to hike alone or with one or two others, but no on has to worry about being responsible for me any more. And I have already lined up a couple of friends who are looking forward to my joining them on their weekly walks. So that is taking care of itself.

I also got the results back from my last week's biopsy of a growth on my neck. That wasn't as good news: the growth that they removed is showing up as a squamous cell carcinoma, right on the left side of my neck. I of course looked it up and found that I will be needing to go through a more extensive excision of the lesion. Oh, great! I haven't heard from the doctor yet, but I will be happy when that cancerous growth is completely gone. At least it isn't melanoma, which I have in my family history. But as I said, I will be very glad when this particularly tough time in my life is behind me. It's one thing to look forward to, having this done and gone. Hopefully it has not spread from the original spot.

I did sign up for more volunteer work in the Senior Center kitchen. On Friday I joined the crew to administer salad dressing to those who showed up for the great salad that was offered for lunch. I had dozens of different varieties for them to choose from, and I noticed that the most popular are thousand island and ranch. Most people ask for an enormous amount of dressing, surprising me. My arms got very tired from squeezing dressing onto the salads from big plastic containers for two hours, but I wasn't needing to manage alone; there were three of us at different times. I learned that Fridays are usually salad days, and good looking ones, too: these had great plates full of shrimp and hard boiled eggs, along with lots of greens. 

I am not sure if John is going to come to take me to breakfast. He was missing all week, downed by some kind of stomach flu. He didn't come last week on Sunday, and then missed the entire week at the coffee shop, except for one day in the middle of the week. I think he came mostly so I wouldn't worry too much, I guess. He has had no appetite and feeling very tired. He didn't call me or let me know yet, but I hope that he is better and we will have our usual Fairhaven excursion. 

Yes, it is not an easy time right now, for any of us here on Planet Earth. I took a quick look at the news this morning and promptly stopped, since I can't face the disasters with equanimity when I am not feeling any better myself. Looking for the bright and happy moments is a struggle, but I am trying very hard to keep my spirits up. I had a good night's sleep with a full eight hours, a half-hour of deep restorative sleep, so I can't complain as I look forward to another sunny (but cool) day ahead. The high is projected to be 72F, just about right, don't you think?

Our beautiful Bellingham Bay

Just writing this post has given me a new perspective, and as I look at where I live, I cannot be too sad about the day ahead. I will definitely try to get a good walk in, and I will listen to some uplifting songs and keep on looking ahead to better days, which will return, I am convinced. 

Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Cool weather, once again

Mostly pansies

Yesterday, Steve and I walked around the waterfront, a truncated walk since he needed to attend the monthly Saturday breakfast with recently retired faculty at his institution. He's still working full-time, but he's at the age when retirement is not so far away. During the summer, I only see him once a week, since he's got a class that starts early on Thursday, so the Saturday walk is all he's able to fit in at this time of the year. It was actually quite a glorious walk, with the weather cloudy and cool, not even reaching the mid-sixties and requiring a jacket. I snagged the above picture from a pretty flowerbed, with several others nearby that had not been watered and looking very tattered. I found this one very pretty and inviting.

I really cherish these walks with Steve, and I am glad he is able to find time to walk with me, since these days I am really struggling to keep my positive viewpoint uppermost. The news of the world, globally, really seems rather depressing and not very uplifting. Going for a walk along the boulevard to Fairhaven, or a walk to the harbor like we did yesterday, never fails to lift my spirits.

When we returned to our starting place, Steve drove away to his breakfast buddies, and I went off to the food co-op for some needed supplies. Although I rarely drive anywhere these days, I keep my time behind the wheel to a minimum, given my limited eyesight. I think I am fairly safe, though, since I am extremely careful to pay attention to my surroundings and don't deviate from my usual short, familiar drives. My eyesight feels pretty normal to me these days, since it's been more than a year since I've noticed any significant change, and I've learned that your brain tends to normalize what you see when that happens.

This weekend I found another task that is no longer available to me: sewing buttons on items when they fall off. I have a vest that is missing two buttons, and I tried to thread a needle without success and got My Guy to do it for me. But then I found that I couldn't actually sew them on, since it's hard for me to see where the needle is supposed to go. If I really tried, I could probably get the task done, but it was discouraging to find out how my sewing days have gone, along with the days when I could knit and crochet. I can do them, but if I drop a stitch, I cannot find it again and finally gave up on trying. It's a small thing, and if I really got determined, I could find a way. I think so, anyway. It's hard to describe to someone what it's like to have good vision everywhere except right in the center of a scene, where you have to focus. And it's only one eye that is missing that central vision. If I back off from trying to see something up close, I can see it perfectly, using my peripheral vision.

I still have to get some more information before I can make an appointment with the office in Vancouver that offers the MacuMira treatment. Right now I am hesitating because of the expense, and the fact that I must get some information from my retina specialist. I know I am dragging my feet, but it's partly because I am reluctant to pay all that money (thousands) for a treatment that might or might not help. It is just like the eye jabs: it can slow the progression but nothing actually fixes my eyes. I just need to face the fact that low vision is all I'm gonna have from now on. I'm lucky that these days it's possible to do most of what I want to do with audible help (other than sewing on buttons). And right now I am sitting in the dark in bed, with my laptop illuminated and giving me the ability to compose and publish my thoughts without much difficulty.

My friend John called last night to beg off going to breakfast this morning, since he's not feeling well and wants to skip it. I am a little disappointed, because I like his company and our usual habit, but I'm glad he felt okay in calling to cancel. I'll see him at the coffee shop once he's better, and I'm pretty sure next week we'll be back to our usual routine. At least I hope so; this getting older business means nothing is ever certain to continue as it always has in the past. I'm determined to keep going with the routines in my daily life, even if I do need to change things up now and then.

Do you know anyone who is taking those GLP-1 drugs to lose weight? I just found out on Facebook that my brother is taking Ozempic and has had great success with it. Of course, everyone in Hollywood must be on them (those who struggle with weight, that is), because many celebrity types are looking so much, well, less fat. I'm thinking of Oprah, for one, who has always struggled with her weight and now looks to be normal sized. I hope she is happy with her looks. Does someone need to keep taking the drugs to keep the weight off? I wonder how it works, but I don't need to take them so my interest is purely academic. Anyway, it's another interesting turn in the news these days. 

Finding ways to stay on top of the news without getting bogged down in sadness is taking up a fair bit of my time. If I allow myself to read any long articles (which I can still do with low vision settings and my trusty magnifying glass), I must watch out for those that really distress me. It's not easy to find uplifting reading material, unless I go for the obvious places, like to comedians and whatnot. How about you? How do you keep yourself feeling positive? I am always looking for new ways, and I'll bet some of my virtual family has figured it out.

Well, this might seem to be a rather lame excuse for a post, but hey, this is what's percolating in my brain right now. I don't have to get up anytime soon, since I have now got no plans for the day ahead. I'll find something uplifting I'm sure, like going for a walk in the coolness. Or reading your blogs and finding out what is going on in your lives. So, dear friends, until we meet here again next week, I wish you all good things and plenty of happiness. Be well.

Citizen Lily and my eyes

Me with my IPA and Lily with her Pilsner

My dear friend Lily is now an American citizen, after having taken the exam for citizenship and paid the expensive fee. She said the test was much easier than she was expecting, passed it with flying colors, and will now get a passport and Enhanced Driver's License in order to travel between the US and her home country of Guatemala. I don't know if she is any more excited about it than I am. She is such a wonderful asset to anyplace she goes. And I am so lucky to have her as a friend. She is now as American as apple pie!

But it means that I can breathe a sign of relief when those ICE agents come a-calling here in Bellingham. Although she has been a model of propriety, it seems (from what I have heard and read), the government is trying to snag as many people as they can to drive up the immigration numbers. But for now, she is doing just fine and is busy working in her long-term job. I took her out to celebrate, with an early dinner and a celebratory beer. She has been a cherished friend for more than a decade. 

On another completely different subject, I am going to try a new treatment for the geographic atrophy in my eyes. My sister who lives in Florida told me about the treatment, called MacuMira, that is only available in Canada. The treatment consists of having a microcurrent of electricity delivered into my closed eyelids for 32 minutes, four times over a period of ten days. It purports to improve the vision of everybody who goes through it, but it is not a cure, only a way to get back some of my visual acuity. It isn't cheap, and only available to get in Canada. Fortunately, I live only about thirty minutes from the Canadian border, and I was able to find a provider in White Rock. The only problem I will have is finding a way to get there. Right now I am researching ways to accomplish this. 

I have stopped the eye jab injections I received for the past year, since they are also very expensive and invasive. After having gone through close to a dozen injections, I've grown increasingly hesitant to have them any more. They also don't cure the eye disease, but slow down the progression. So there is no way to tell if they have done any good. I do have to get some information from the retina specialist, and I will do that as soon as I get an appointment with the clinic in Canada. I don't ever want to have another needle stuck in my eye, and this new treatment sounds quite painless. To have an eye zap rather than a needle stick sounds like a progression of sorts, don't you think?

In any event, I'll document the treatment of my own journey to keep my eyes from deteriorating any further. The one thing I have learned already is that the central vision in my left eye has not gotten worse, it's still 20/20, so I can continue to drive and read (using low vision settings), so it could be that I can keep what I already have and might even improve what I can currently see. After researching it thoroughly, I am more than willing to try it.

There is no doubt that getting older and losing one's capacities is daunting, but what else can I do but keep on going, hoping I will find some ways to maintain for as long as possible what I have? Failing that, finding ways to cope with what is going on keep me feeling positive, even through hard times. It's not an easy time in the history of the world, and the trends of my country's politics is sometimes hard to take. But I am still enjoying, and finding happiness in everyday tasks. My life is puttering along and good things abound, when I look for them. You know that the wonderful virtual friends (that means you) I have found and maintain through our blogs is essential to my wellbeing.

With that, I will call the post "done" and think about the rest of my day ahead. John will be here in about an hour, and before he gets here, I've got my exercises and meditation to accomplish. So, without further ado, I'll wish all of us the very best week ahead. Until we meet again next week, I will sign off and look forward to enjoying your comments. Be well, dear friends.

Crocosmia, crows, and cancer

Crocosmia Lucifer at the harbor

I love crocosmia and am always thrilled to see it emerge in midsummer, looking as beautiful as I remembered it from previous years. The one species with which I am most familiar is the one entitled "Lucifer," for obvious reasons. It's redder than red and very prolific. Hummingbirds love it, and it consistently blooms from midsummer until late in the fall. We are so fortunate to have many varieties of flowers to enjoy here, but for some reason I tend to forget this plant until it returns in all its glory.

I have to admit that my memory is beginning to fail now and then. I did look at this pretty plant and tried to recall its name, but it just wouldn't come, until I finally looked it up and suddenly I remembered it as though it was right there all along. Memory is very curious, isn't it? 

Which reminds me of another one of those memories that I don't remember forgetting, until I once again recall it. I was noticing some crows around here in the past few weeks demonstrating a behavior that I had forgotten about, until I saw it again: crows that look exactly like their parents, same size and shape, but who are obviously babies, because they follow around their mothers and cry for food, when they can most likely already forage for themselves. Mama looks and acts distressed by the young one, until she finally gives up and feeds the "baby." I have learned to distinguish the young ones by their amusing antics as they also learn to fly. They flap their wings as if they aren't convinced this is gonna work, until they finally take off and wander around the sky, before any need for graceful flying is needed. Sometimes they get perilously close to traffic, but since I don't see any corpses lying around, I guess mostly they learn soon enough to avoid catastrophe. They are endlessly satisfying to observe.

Well, that covers crocosmia and crows, and now the part I really am sad about is the cancer part of my headline title. As some of you might remember, my dear partner has a form of lymphoma, one that affects his blood. He started taking a disastrously expensive cancer drug a few months ago, but his doctor was able to find some provider who would pay for the drugs while he takes it, four pills a day for as long as the drug helps. He has been very fortunate to have only a few minor complications, and as long as we don't have to cough up the cost, he will continue to take it. So far, the blood work shows it is making a positive difference, so we are happy about that.

Just in the past few weeks, I have found that two of my favorite virtual family members are newly diagnosed with cancer, and at least one of them is getting the same treatment as my guy: someone else pays for the sky-high treatment and he takes the drug. I hope he does as well wit it as my guy . The other person has just learned that she has cancer and will undergo a radical hysterectomy next week, with nobody knowing how many other organs might be involved. She will let us know, those of us who love her and hope for the best, as soon as she herself knows.

My family doesn't seem to succumb as much from cancer as other families do, but who knows? Something comes for us all eventually, and now that I am firmly ensconced in my eighties, I sometimes wonder what is in my future to deal with. I'll know sooner or later, right? Heart disease seems to be much more common with my relatives, having already taken both parents, one sister, and my son.

As we age, we find our own ways to adapt to change. And of course, that is the one thing we can depend on: change is part of life, and as much as I'd like to stay in the stable and comfortable life I have now, that is not how it works. 

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance. —Alan Watts

I will continue to learn to move with change and find the upside of whatever I am facing. Right now, as I sit here in the dark with my dear partner next to me, lightly breathing, I am more than grateful for this moment and everything that I have. Tomorrow will be different, but today is just about perfect. The weather is mild and sunny, my friend John will come to take me to breakfast in an hour, and I will happily look forward to the days and weeks ahead. I love my virtual family, too, and will spend some time contemplating their situations. I am grateful for everyone who writes a blog and gives me a peek into their lives. Until we meet again next week, hopefully, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends. 

Summer potpourri

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Sky, clouds, water, boulevard

Yesterday, Steve and I walked on a beautiful Saturday from downtown Bellingham to Fairhaven and back along Boulevard Park. There were so many people out and about that I was hoping that summer this year will be just like this for many weekends to come. We saw myriad dogs (which of course Steve loves to pet with permission from their owners) and the most crowded Farmers' Market I've seen in awhile. The weather was, as you can see from the picture, incredibly beautiful. The high for the day was 70°F, with a light breeze. It was the first time since my February fall that I've gone all the way to Fairhaven without any need to stop or slow down. After a bit more than five miles, I took an ibuprofen because I could feel my right leg beginning to complain, but within a few minutes, no more pain of any sort. I'm happy to learn than I can now accomplish enough exercise to continue to get better, but I'm not going to push it; what's the point?

It's been a wonderful week, which included a new (to me) walk on the Padilla Bay estuary near Anacortes on Tuesday, a flat, interesting trail on a dike, with mudflats on one side, and farmland on the other. Lots of birds and other wildlife kept it lively. This was an easy hike with the Senior Trailblazers. Then on Wednesday I took my usual yoga class, with a substitute teacher but still lovely, and Thursday I did my usual volunteer work at the Senior Center. I've grown quite fond of the other volunteers, mostly women.

My fellow volunteers

This picture includes the Volunteer Coordinator Melody (at the table, fourth from  the left, sitting in front of me), but the others are all volunteers who receive a free lunch at the end of the shift. Here, we are all set up and ready to open the doors at 11:30am. Until they stop serving lunch at 12:30, we are busy serving coffee, tea, and then taking trays to the kitchen and finally putting the tables and chairs back into storage. The Senior Center serves lunch five days a week for $6 or whatever one can afford. I am usually very tired by the end and grateful that another shift is done. But I wouldn't trade it for anything; I get more thanks and compliments during this period than I do for the entire rest of the week. Not exactly fun, but definitely worthwhile. We served around 125 seniors on Thursday.

Summer has never been my favorite time of the year, but that might be changing as we continue to enjoy mild temperatures. I keep reading about the rest of the country, especially the Midwest, getting slammed with extraordinarily hot and humid weather. Although I have windows open throughout our apartment, it hasn't been really warm yet, and a cool breeze helps as well. That will change, however, during July and August, I fear. But then we will return to our normal mild and delightful weather. I don't see any reason to go anywhere else during the summer months. I do, however, sometimes tire of the endless days of rain and cloudy overcast skies during the winter months. My waterproof shoes and raincoats help immeasurably.

Abundant flowers and lush greenery

Of course, all this wonderful weather gives us plenty of beautiful vegetation and many happy gardeners. I saw this pink flower that I couldn't identify. Maybe one of my readers knows what it is. In any event, I am really pleased to know that others are also enjoying the days and weeks of perfection. It helps not to keep up with the political news, also. I read the headlines and my fellow bloggers posts, and that's about it for current events.

And in a few minutes, I'll get up out of bed and close my laptop and look forward to whatever is in store for me today. John, of course, will be coming to get me so we can make our way to Fairhaven to our favorite breakfast spot. For the first time this season, I'll be wearing shorts, since it's been forecast to be our first 75°F day. I will probably go out for a nice three-mile walk later in the day, if it doesn't feel too hot for me. I hope you will have a wonderful day and week ahead, dear friends. Life is too short to concentrate on the bad stuff, so I'm just not going to. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.