Tough times

SG in his bed after surgery

This will not be a very long post, just enough to bring you up to speed with what has happened to us in the last few days. SG was having some real balance issues, and was using a cane to stay upright, but he fell, hard, on his side while trying to get dressed on Friday morning. I had already left for the bus and the coffee shop.

I got a call from him, telling me he had fallen and could not get up. I got a ride home and saw that he was on the floor and was unable to move. It had been a struggle for him to make it to his phone, but he did,and that was when he called me. I could not get him up, either, and he was in a lot of pain. Time to call 911, and in a short while, two strong men showed up to get him transferred into the ambulance. I rode in the front seat on the way there. He was only wearing his underwear, so they wrapped  him in a blanket. 

When he arrived, he was evaluated and moved to an intake room. He was fairly comfortable, but an emergency with another patient happened and we ended up being there for several hours before a doctor could help him. By the time they took an x-ray, it was early afternoon. I got a ride home and learned that he had been moved to the surgery floor. When I got there, they had decided he would need a partial hip replacement. It was schedued for the next morning. They had given him some pain medicine, but no food. Eventually he got a small meal, and I went home, unable to help but was just in the way, SG was such a wonderful patient but was also scared about the surgery.

I learned that I could wait in the room when he was taken up for the operation. The doctor called me after what seemed a short time to say the surgery wa successful and that he would be coming back to the room. I was so glad to see him.

He called me last night to say he had just seen the physical therapist and that they will start PT today! He is in good hands and even if I am not there for this session, there will be others. Hopefully by the time I write here next, we wil be home and I can reach out and touch him. We have a long road ahead, but we will travel it together.

Valentine's Day 2026

Michelle, Byron, and me

We are standing in front of a beautiful tapestry scene, put there to give us a backdrop for our holiday pictures, with hot chocolate and keepsake mugs for us to take home. Our Senior Center administrator hosts one of these occasions several times a year, and this one gave us a really nice place to showcase the group. There were only a couple dozen or so of us, out of hundreds. I had forgotten about the party, but my friend Michelle never misses a chance to have a party, even if it's a small one. She picked me up at home and shepherded me to the Center.

It is so nice to have such a wonderful social venue. I think we are really lucky to have our vibrant and well attended center, and we are expanding to include our numbers into yet another building. It's where my yoga class is held twice a week, as well as Zumba Gold (which I haven't attended in the new place yet), but I will, eventually, I hope. The amount of exercise I am currently getting is much less than this time last year. I've stopped doing many long-time activities because of my failing eyesight. As I sit here in my usual spot early on a Sunday morning, it takes me much longer to get these posts written, since I keep hitting the wrong keys. But even if it takes longer, and tends to frustrate me to an extent, I can still get it done, with the help of my magnifying glass and patience, patience, patience.

My newest friends are mostly fellow voliunteers in the lunchroom. Michele (another friend) just returned from a three-month-long stay in Australia. She travels every year or so with her spouse, always in the winter and finding warmth and adventure wherever they go. I don't have any desire to travel anywhere these days, anywhere that requires air travel or long periods of time away from home. I suppose this is a normal part of the aging process. Who knows? My parents were long gone before they would have reached my current age. I know I don't have nearly the stamina I took for granted not long ago. But now I have so many seniors that I interact with on a weekly basis and realize that I am very fortunate to be as active as I still am. There are probably three dozen walkers lined up on the sides of the room during lunch, and I look at them and give thanks I don't yet need one.

My friend John now has one, which he keeps in his truck behind the driver's side, and he now uses it for walks in the park. He is much more stable and able to go farther when he uses it. It's also nice to have a place to sit down whenever you need to take a rest. Tney are also handy for the bus, too. Must people don't need to ask for the ramp to be lowered but push their walkers up the slope and then find a seat where they can secure it so it doesn't go flying. 

I also received some new Valentine cars this year, since there was a elementary school sing-along after the lunch was over, and many of the kids made Valentine cards for us old folks. I can't remember the last time received one, so I kept my favorite in my keepsake drawer. It will be nice to look at it once I've forgotten all about it. And the kinds were so much fun!

Well, that's about it for this week's post. I do feel an obligation to write one, and that might change in the future, but for now I am happy to still be here in the virtual universe with my dear electronic family. I hope the coming days and weeks will bring you many smiles and delight as the early spring flowers make their way into the sunlight. Until we meet again, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Looking back to look ahead

Mt Shuksan from Huntoon Point, 2011

This lovely picture stuck out of my collection as I went rummaging around in my files for some inspiration as to what to write about. As I examined some of the brilliant memories that I have gathered during my years hiking in the Pacific Northwest wilderness, this one was taken on a snowshoe trip with some other Tsraillazers, probably on a Thursday, up to Huntoon Point, where we often went when looking for some adventure, but not too much.

I can still remember the feeling of being out there in the snow and sunshine, and seeing the bird overhead that kept eyeing us. It would get quite close, but would fly away if I moved too auickly toward it. On another outing, I had seen one of these camp robbers snatch a sandwich right out of the hand of someone sitting down to lunch, and I knew it wa s looking to see if I was going to be a source of food. I took some trail mix into the palm of my hand and made eye contact with the bird. It didn't take long before it was eating right out of my hand, I still remember the sharp talons of his (her?) claws and tried to keep from reacting, knowing that the moment would be over if I didn't stay calm.

We never saw much wildlife at altitude up there, but then again, there isn't much to eat during the winter. We saw deer occasionally, mostly in the distance, and in thr summer we were sometimes treated to seeing bighorn sheep nearby. But mostly it was just a few humans enjoying the wilderness experience by ourselves. Birds are another story, however. The jays and larger birds, like ravens, are ubiquitous in the winter months, however. 

There are moments when I really miss being up there and enjoying the beauty surrounding us, but it's harder these days to make myself push the limits of my ability. That's probably because I am getting older by the day. Little incremental changes are now more noticeable as I spend less time exercising. I am happy for all the many years I spent outdoors and exploring the High Country. Now I am content to keep my excursions short and sweet. 

It's Super Bowl Sunday, the 60th time they will play the top two teams against each other. I well remember when Daddy would watch the game and how much he loved football. I was not exactly indifferent, but I didn't really care who won or lost, or even paid much attention to it. I do remember realizing, when I lived in Colorado, that on a beautiful winter's day, I might be one of the very few people outdoors, while hordes of people gathered around indoors to watch, eat the requisite food like barbequed chicken wings, pizza, and (of couse) beer. Not much has changed in half a century, when it comes to the Super Bowl menu, I guess.

I went looking for a Super Bowl quotation from the BrainyQuote website and, as usual, I spent an hour thinking and perusing them. But somehow this one from Rabindranath Tagore caught me:

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy. --Rabindranath Tagore

I figure that quote sums up my current moment. I am writing this post out of service, not because I particularly want to, and here is a perfect ending for an eclectic post. I still need to get up and prepare for the Sunday breakfast I'll share with John, and I need to be ready for the rain as well.

How about you? What will you do with this one perfect day in your life? I always love to hear from my readers as to how you're doing and what's happening in your life today. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

 

Tired of it all

Lily captured this yesterday

In some ways, I feel like I've been wandering around in an endless cycle of distress and stress, with no way to get off and start finding happier times in my future. I know I am not alone in my desire to return to a better, more stable world. We are all, it seems, coping the best we can with whatever tools we have at our disposal.

I am eternally grateful for my family, both physical and virtual, because I know when I hear  from them, that I am not an outlier, that many of us are all having similar thoughts and trying to find some safe space where we can relax and enjoy life. And many of us are also dealing with the problems that come with growing old. The hard part for me is knowing that these little vicissitudes of life only travel in one direction. When I think of who I was a decade ago, I still remember what it felt like, and I know that in another decade (if I am still here), I will have lost more of my faculties; it's how the system works. We old people need to make room for the young to take over the planet, right? This tiny little place we call Earth is almost full to the brim, as we enter into the millennium with more than eight billion of us, living and breathing and hopefully leaving the place better than when we got here.

It's Sunday again, and I am finding it harder and harder to maintain my usual equanimity in this uncertain world. Trying to find ways to be happy becomes a task that I fail at more and more of the time. But I am still trying, and sometimes I even succeed in looking into the future with a hopeful smile. If I could choose my day's focus, it would be to find and share the love, not ugly anger and hopelessness. What good would that do? One dear friend reminded me that Martin Luther King once said that hate cannot be conquered with more hate; only love can do that. And it feels so much better to walk with love by my side than to allow hate to take over my heart.

Advice is like snow: the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind. --Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Hoping to find inspiration, I went over to one of my favorite spots on the Internet, the Brainyquote website. This is the Quote of the Day, which seemed quite appropriate and even hopeful. And here I am, hopeful that the snow falling in the southern parts of our country is soft and clean, just like I want to see the beauty surrounding me, if I just look for it. During the day today, I will open my heart to each person I greet and give each one a dollop of kindness. And miraculously, I'll feel better, too. Funny how that works.

And, just because many of my loved ones are no longer here, I can still look at a picture of my son, smiling at the camera and looking like he's got a secret. Maybe I'll find out one day what it is. Until then, I'll keep on looking for ways to spread love and happiness in my little corner of the vast universe. I hope you will help me with that, since we all need to do our own small part to make the world a better place.

I wish you all good things and also much health and happiness, until we meet again, dear friends.

 

Flowers of ice

Lovely, but not my favorite flowers

I looked in my large collection of pictures for something to start out this late January post with. This was taken almost a decade ago, when I went on a hike up to the lookout where we could see Samish Bay on a very cold, wintry day a few years ago. I am still capable to hiking to this area, but since I am no longer going out with the Trailblazers, I think there would be little reason for me to see this scene again: instead, I'll wait for warmer weather and head on up there at least a few more times before I no longer can.

Every year brings another reminder that there is no way to stop the passage of time, even if I wanted to. So much has happened to me, and to the world, since I snapped this frosty scene seveb years ago. Right now, today, most of the United States is enduring a very cold, frosty winter storm, complete with freezing ice and plenty of snow. We are spared from that scenario here in the Pacific Northwest, but we are still having below-normal temperatures every night. I still go out onto the front porch to do my exercises in the dark, and it still is "warm" enough (relatively speaking) for me to take off my socks and attempt the five exercises with freezing toes. Since I know I will be spending only ten minutes or so out there, and soon will be able to warm up properly again, it has to be well below freezing before I do them indoors. It might not be the equivalent of a polar bear plunge, but I think it makes me a little stronger. And I am still able to brave the cold and allow myself to feel a little virtuous.

This morning I awake to another day of below normal temps, but I feel very fortunate to be here, as I read about all the terrible awful conditions elsewhere, and my heart is breaking for the latest shooting incident in Minneapolis. The videos are clear that the young man was not trying to kill anyone, but he did have a concealed weapon, even if he had a license to carry it, I believe it might have contributed to his killing. But, that said, I have very little understanding of why it happened.

I spent last night trying to keep those awful images out of my mind so I could get some sleep, but I wasn't very successful. I know it doesn't help anything, but I don't seem to be able to train myself to look away. I am just glad we don't have masked vigilantes roaming our cities here in Washington State, and I hope it stays that way, but I have very little hope that we will again be a nation of law and order any time soon. I am so sad and despairing as I read and watch the news. I know, I know: it doesn't help anything and only hurts me to keep on staying current with these terrible events. So, here goes an attempt to change the subject as it roils around in my head.

Today I am hopeful that John will start up his magic carpet known as his truck and transport me to Fairhaven for a wonderful breakfast. It is very cold out there, but it's nothing compared to what the entire Midwest and East Coast have in store for the next few days. I do hope that we get through this without any lives lost. I sometimes wonder how the wildlife copes when it's so cold, but they seem to know what to do better than those of us who live indoors. I remember years ago in Colorado helping to make an igloo, and we managed to spend an uncomfortable night inside it. I didn't realize that, as we tried to sleep, the walls would gradually collapse from the heat of our bodies and warm breath. I woke to the feeling of an icy wall no longer protecting me but falling into the interior. It was not the best night of sleep, but I did realize how I could improve it if I had to do it again. I didn't try to spend another night in such circumstances, though. Now all I have left of that experience are memories of discomfort and a desire to leave such adventures to the younger set.

And it won't be long now before I can leave my headlamp behind, as we are gaining plenty of light every single day as we move towards the vernal equinox on March 20 this year. That is less than a month away, and from that day our nights will be shorter than our days, and the leaves will bud out and the flowers spring out of the ground. The entire Northern Hemisphere of our planet will wake up to another cycle of green and mild temperatures. And here in the Pacific Northwest we will be greeted once again by our old friend, the rain. We won't have to worry about freezing rain by then, not for another year at least. 

Well, I wasn't able to find much to be happy about, but I know that will change as the days pass. I am always happy to wake up feeling moderately content, as I stick my head out from under the covers and start my day in earnest. And I've got my constellation of blogs to read that you all wrote recently. I love finding out how others are coping as well. I hope that you will share some of your tricks with me, letting me know that I am not alone. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Another tumultuous week

Teeny little buds taken yesterday

Yesterday I walked with Steve, not for long since he had an early breakfast to attend, so we walked on the Boulevard Park trail until he had to turn around the head back. We didn't even make it all the way to Woods Coffee (which would have given us a five-mile round trip), but it was such wonderful sunshine and nice weather that it didn't matter that much. We've had days and days of sunshine and little wind, but very cold temperatures, right around freezing overnight.

I took this picture as I walked up my driveway to the apartment complex, after taking the bus back home after Steve left for his breakfast. I saw that there are actually a few little buds on the branches of the lilac bush and captured them for a nice picture to brighten the mood. I am always happy to spend some time with Steve before he goes off to his various activities. 

John called me early in the afternoon to cancel our Sunday breakfast, as he decided to watch the Seahawks game, which started in the evening, and he won't be getting to bed Saturday until late and we old folks don't do early mornings very well if we are up "late" the night before. The Seahawks trounced the 49ers. Now they will play the winner of today's game between the Rams and the Bears. Listen to me, sounding like a real fan. I really don't care, but everyone around here is riled up to have the Seahawks in the Super Bowl and maybe even win it.

Sports are a good distraction from all the other news of the world. I have been struggling with my ability to cope for several weeks now. I once upon a time had a strong sense of optimism about how everything would play out, but that is gone now. After the Minneapolis shooting, I have begun to find myself in sadness and fear much more often than usual, even during the dreary winter months. I also think turning 83 has reminded me that anything happening at all positive is beginning to become less and less likely. Is that partly because it's normal to feel all these aches and pains and have so little to look forward to? Or is this just a phase? It doesn't help that slowly but surely I am losing what's left of my central vision. Peripheral vision is not only intact, but I tend to think it's even better than it was before this started happening to my sight. I can still drive, carefully and cautiously, in short trips to familiar places. I realize lately that the most difficult part of my low vision is not having any depth perception. Did I tell you about me waiting for a robot to cross the street, only to realize it was a parking meter on the sidewalk and as I walked, it moved with me? I smiled at the misperception, but often I realize that is the most difficult part of being out walking. When the sun isn't up there, showing me the truth of my surroundings, I am at a loss.

Probably the hardest part of aging is realizing that you are not going to suddenly spring up out of bed and feel like things are getting better. That's not the way it works, but frankly when I look at my life, it's not all that bad or difficult. But there is a "yet" lurking in the background, because that's the way it works as the days, weeks and months fly by.

I have become more reliant on my headlamps to help me get around in the dark, even here at home. Now I sort my vitamins into their cubbyholes using it, and having several of them around to use makes a huge difference. Bright light is essential to me these days.

Strange. As I sit here in the dark, with the light from my laptop making it somewhat easier to read, I think I should be happy that my sight seems to have ecome more stable. I attribute that to the awful shots I received for almost a year, every six weeks without fail. I realize with these new treatments, there are no long-term effects to study and decide whether or when to stop. I stopped them when I could no longer afford the hundreds of dollars they were costing me, once the help I received from the insurance company stopped paying. And now I know that my sight had stabilized and the shots are no longer necessary, at least in the short term. I know that at some point I might begin to notice more degradation, but for now I am happy to say that I can still see well enough for most tasks I take on. 

The new operating system for the Mac also has lots of vocal stuff to supplement the visual stuff. I haven't installed it yet, but I will, and I am definitely already using some of the vocal cues to help. So, things are not that bad, and I am looking forward to much more help from my laptop and phone in the coming days. SG got the new system installed yesterday on his Mac, and he is anxious for me to get it installed and learn about it.

One of my most favorite things to do these days is walk to the bus and ride it to town, to the coffee shop, for exercise and social interaction. I am very happy that my hips and knees are mostly functional, still, in my early eighties and beyond (who knows for how long?). Life continues on, with many happy moments if I don't expect things to stay the same forever. One thing I have to acknowledge and be grateful for are my loved ones, my friends and family, and that also includes you, my dear virtual friends.

Until we meet agian, I wish you all good things. Be well.

It's been... a week

The Paratransit bus

Last Tuesday, I spent most of the day trying to get this picture onto the website for my usual Tuesday post. I finally ended up posting it without any pictures, which was a first for me. There are many firsts happening these days, as SG and I make our way through the latest iteration of our daily lives. SG applied for and receives permission to use this transit system to get around, sincd with a shattered left elbow and his ongoing blood cancer causing all kinds of difficulties, he can now use this system to get around town.

I've seen this  Paratransit bus in front of the Senior Center often, and he has now used it three times: once to get to the ortohpedic surgeon's office, and twice to get to the Cancer Center. There are no restrictions on use, that we know of anyway, and it's free and available to SG for the next three years.

He had great news at the ortho surgeon's office. They x-rayed the break from several angles and told him that surgery won't be necessary. It's healint nicely on its own, and he is to do some exercises, carefully at first, to regain some range of motion. But, unfortunately that was the only really good news he received this week.

Then, on Thursday, he went to see his oncologist to schedule his first injection of Aranesp, which has recently been found to be effective in increasing red blood cells (RBCs) in the treatment of MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome), which his oncologist says he most likely has. It can turn into leukemia, but not always, and now hopefully he is being successfully treated for MDS. Time will tell, but we are definitely hopeful.

He received his first injection of Aranesp on Thursday, a subcutaneous shot, which he said was not painful, just cold. But after he received the shot, his doctor said his red blood cell count was so low that he needed an infusion at the earliest possible time, which ended up being Friday, early in the morning. I left for my volunteer work just before, while he was waiting for the Paratransit bus to arrive. He tolerated the infusion well, but it took over three hours, and he was not there when I returned home around 1:00pm. I was understandably worried about him, but he texted me a couple of times from the Cancer Center to let me know he was still doing OK. Once I arrived home, I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me that already he was feeling stronger and more alert than he had experienced in quite awhile.

Last night, he learned that he will be receiving more infusions, weekly I suppose, until some later time. If he had not had such good response from the first one, I would be worried about all this flurry of activity. He is in good spirits, however, and I think part of that is caused by the infusion of whatever it is they are putting into his body. I wish I knew more, but he seems to be better, and whatever happens next, he is at least in the good hands of his oncologist and we have health coverage, which is more than many people have.

Mushrooms and moss

I wish they could do something like an infusion for my eyes, but I suppose I should be grateful that I still have a little central vision in my left eye. It hasn't gotten worse, and with everything happening, I am grateful. I accidentally smashed my desk lamp to smithereens last week, and I realized that I was unable to clean it up myself, since I couldn't see the shards of glass covering the floor. It was another reminder that I am disabled with low vision, and I can't pretend it's not affecting my life in profound ways. If that Canadian procedure would help, I would find a way to do it, but all the research I have done shows that perhaps it might slow the progression. But that seems to have been accomplished with the dreaded shots. Nothing has changed in the longer term, but I am still able to see well enough to get around and to do my volunteer work, which means I still feel useful. But being old is getting harder. It's almost impossible to plan anything because our day-to-day life is so full of sudden changes.

However, life is puttering along as we learn to navigate our current situation. We have each other, we have the internet and our virtual family and many other positive things going on. I am grateful for what we are able to accomplish, even in the face of illness and low vision. There is always something to appreciate in my daily life, and one of them will be arriving at the front door to take me to breakfast (John). 

With that, I wish you all good things, dear friends, and keep yourself and your loved ones close, safe in your heart. Be well.