Late date for Thanksgiving

 

Gorgeous orange wet leaves

Walking home from the bus yesterday, it was raining (no relief) and I saw these really gorgeous orange-colored leaves covered with raindrops from the incessant rain of the past few days. The entire West Coast is experiencing a huge rainstorm, and we are not being spared.

And here I am, nestled in bed like always, but without the slightest idea of what I will eventually write about. I went to bed too early last night and because of that, I woke early this morning. Early even for me, so here I sit, pondering the morning and wondering what will pop out of my brain this time.

I had vivid dreams and thought perhaps I could harvest some of them, but you know what happens when you wake up and think about your dreams: they evaporate with nothing to do but let them go back into the misty corridors of my mind. One little piece still remains, and I thought for a minute it might be real, a thought that I had amassed some bits of material and piled them up neatly. But no, that was the only remnant of my dream that still stuck around. And now I've sent it away, too. Here goes, my now-awake thoughts finding a direction.

I have stopped getting those eye injections, and so far, there has been no more deterioration of the worn-out retinas that are responsible for my failing eyesight. That is what they were supposed to do: slow or stop the progression from continuing to fail. Since nobody knows for sure if they helped or not, I am quite curious to monitor my eyesight as it exists in the moment. I am very fortunate to be able to continue to read, if not easily, I can still do it if I have a bright light behind the text. That's why I am able to use my laptop to write this post. And that means I might not have too much continuing deterioration, but who knows? I can only take my days one at a time, and continue to do for as long as I can, find work-arounds for it all, and stay active as long as  possible, but cut myself some slack for not wanting to walk in the rain all the time. I have quite a few raincoats, which are all getting used, and I find some of them work great, until they simply give up. They can be reinvigorated by a good washing and drying, I'm finding.

I have made a few essential friends during my volunteer work at the Senior Center. Both of my frequent rides home are becoming really good friends. Both are recently widowed (within the last year) and are making new lives for themselves. Friday I saw the two of them in deep conversation with a new friend. She is a beautiful woman, dressed elegantly in pink and white. A fragile frame but a lively and interesting mind, Elaine is 94 and recently  lost her husband after a long illness. This was only her second time at the Center, but she has already begun to find a new life. She said she really didn't like eating alone at home, and finds the community that surrounds the lunchroom crowd to be delightful. And she herself is delightful. She doesn't drive any more and uses the WTA Specialized Transit service to get around. Right now, those of us over 75 pay nothing for fixed routes and a small fee for a bus to come to your home and return you there. The fares are increasing, though, and starting next summer, I'll be paying something, not that much but something, for my rides. 

I'm glad they are not cutting services, just making the difficult choice to raise fares. There are people I see riding the bus who would have a hard time paying anything at all, and I'm hoping they can come up with some way to help those people. I live in a very caring environment and think they'll figure it out. Perhaps those of us who can afford it can pay to help others. I'll keep you posted as to what they come up with.

I am taking every opportunity to keep myself healthy, happy, and active. If I had tried to find just the right place to retire, I could not have found any place more perfect for the two of us than Bellingham. It was just a happenstance that I found it online and then we visited before we moved here. It does rain a lot, but that's the reason, I suspect, that more people don't move here. Just like the rest of the country, or should I say world, we have our struggles and wrestle with too much growth, too many people leading to overcrowding and other community problems. But considering what so many places are facing, we are not doing too badly. When I was young, it was inconceivable to me that we would have such a population explosion. Nobody wants to talk about it, but it's real and very concerning. Check out this World Population Clock if you need something to consider before deciding to find some place less crowded. (Hint: there isn't any place)

Well, when I first started writing this post, I didn't know where it would lead. But here it is, worrying about our planet's health when one species has become incredibly dominant and endangers the entire ecosystem. I'm not sure where I'm going with this thought, but there is nothing I myself can do about it except point to it and marvel that we are not all looking at it every day and wondering what to do about it. In any event, I am now stirring in my bed and thinking about starting my day, getting up and doing my exercises, going out to breakfast with my friend John, and seeing the wonderful world as it really is. 

Dear friends, until we meet again next time, I wish you all good things. Be well.

It's always something

My laptop in front, John's in back

This picture shows you the place where I (and usually John) spend our weekday mornings, drinking our coffee and tapping away on our little iPads. John takes off his reading glasses and goes to the bathroom rather regularly, and I took the opportunity to capture this iconic scene while he was away, and while I was waiting myself for a trip to the bathroom. When he joins us, Steve sits at a table like these to the left of me.

These days, I usually write a blog post (this one) on Eye on the Edge, published on Sunday mornings, and on Tuesdays I write a shorter, less involved post, on DJan-ity. This is my current writing regimen, but I do occasionally forget the Tuesday post. My ability to keep track of things these days is slipping, slowly but surely.

However, I do remember that each day is not a simple rehash of my daily habits, but each day is discrete and (hopefully) memorable. Being able to look back at my days through these writings for the last almost two decades is really valuable. I was trying to remember when I got my last Covid shot and then had that bout with the virus, and there it was. chronicled in an earlier post. My recollection of how sick I got was also surprising; I remembered it as being rather benign, but the post reminded me of how sick I was for a few days. I didn't end up hospitalized, because I was well vaccinated and recovered fairly quickly, with no respiratory distress. It was still no walk in the park.

As the days, weeks, months and years pass by, I feel very fortunate to live in a place where the weather is mostly benign; I read about the extreme weather, with rain, wind, and even hurricanes that other parts of the country endure regularly. We are not immune from bad weather, but it comes and goes rather quickly. Last week we experienced several inches of rain, lots of fierce winds, but it passed by, leaving us with puddles and some standing water in the streets, but nothing that couldn't be navigated easily. And then yesterday, Saturday, was a really beautiful sunny day with light, almost nonexistent, wind. I went to the coffee shop with Steve, and the two of us walked five miles at the harbor before returning back to our starting point. It was a glorious day in so many ways. I was a little worried that my right hip might act up, but other than a twinge now and then, it was just fine. I felt so glad that I didn't have to ask for a short cut back but kept up without any problems.

But there is always something, these days, to remind me of my advancing age and that most octogenarians need to find less strenuous workouts. When I consider my activities today in comparison with earlier times, I realize that I have done exactly that. My right hip has been bothering me ever since I took that flying leap on the ice last February and was laid up for weeks. It still goes out on me every once in awhile, but it's much, much better. And that is because I continue to move as much as I can, not taking the opportunity to stop exercising. It's part of my life and has been since as long as I can remember.

I still can walk that far, maybe a little farther, but I could no longer manage the harder hikes that I took for granted a few years ago. Because of my failing eyesight, it's helping me to cope with the changes. But it's always something, isn't it? As we age, we need to accept that we are not as capable as in earlier times, not grieve over it but find new ways to enjoy our daily lives. I am guided by many of my peers who write their own blogs about coping with difficulty and finding new ways to keep active. And a few have shown how to gracefully accept their inevitable decline and I hope to do the same. We have each other, fellow travelers on this beautiful blue rock we call Earth.

I have been missing the Astronomy Picture of the Day website, which stopped putting new stuff up when we started this shutdown. We have now surpassed the length of past shutdowns and there is no signs of it ending anytime soon. Sigh. I really feel for the workers who go every day to their job and don't get a paycheck. But I am hopeful that my Social Security will continue, and that the shutdown will not affect my ability to pay bills and buy groceries. We are all hoping it will soon end and things will return to normal, or a semblance of it anyway. But it's always something, right?

That was the catchphrase that Gilda Radner used during his time on Saturday Night Live and became the title of her memoir, which is now released in its twentieth anniversary edition. Twenty years!

I had wanted to wrap this book up in a neat little package. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. --Gilda Radner

Ain't it the truth, Gilda. And just like that, I have found a way to end my post, with her wonderful words and a wish to listen to her voice once again. I'll get the audio version of her memoir and smile and laugh along with her. 

https://www.amazon.com/Its-Always-Something-Gilda-Radner-

 So, dear friends, I will wish you, as I always do, many happy moments in the coming week, and wish you all good things. Until we meet again, be well.

Still weathery but lots of fun

Some of the costumed Halloween workers

We had a great deal of fun at the Senior Center during the Halloween festivities. You may not recognize some of these people, but you have probably seen them incognito during previous journal entries, but now they are not quite so recognizable. I didn't dress up; there are so many previous years when I spent a good deal of time finding just the right costume. But that was then, and now I am quite happy to enjoy other people's fun costumes.

One of my favorite past year's costume was decades ago, when I decided to become Harpo Marx for the day. I found an old floppy top hat and men's clothes, but the most important part was an old brass horn. Many people reading this post might not have even known who he was, since Groucho was the brother most people recognized. (Learn about the Marx Brothers here.) There were actually five brothers, who performed in vaudeville for many years before becoming movie stars in its early days. Since I am old, I remember seeing the old comedies they performed in. I sure enjoyed learning about them and trying to be a passable Harpo. I didn't speak for the entire day, using the horn as my "voice."

My other memorable costume was becoming Dolly Parton. I bought an appropriate wig and paid a friend to give me some over-the-top thick makeup to look like her, complete with voluminous hair and a glittery outfit. That was fun, too.

As I have grown older, I have somehow lost the desire to play dress-up or pretend to become some famous person. It's just one more thing that has simply fallen away. There are times when I look at my life today and wonder how much of it has become part of the ether, and how much might be possible to remember and reconstruct, even all these years later. Just thinking about dressing up has reminded me of part of my past that I had completely forgotten.

Everybody must be the same way, I think. The young engeneu I was in my early teens is maybe still somewhere inside my soul, but it's been buried for so long that I'm not sure I would even recognize that part of myself today. As I have aged, the old lady I have become feels right and appropriate, but it was so gradual that I cannot even contemplate returning to that reality. Do you ever think of yourself as a child? I wonder.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. --Lao Tzu

Now that I am losing the ability to see the world around me clearly, I am finding that there are many other ways to appreciate being alive than simply seeing. People are incredibly helpful to me, when I cannot do something alone, I often find someone who is happy to help. It also makes me realize how much I can still accomplish, and I hope that will be true if my world grows darker. I often think of Helen Keller and how much she accomplished without the seemingly essential gifts of sight and hearing. Helen died 1 June 1968 at the age of 87. A quote from the internet: “I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times, but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. The wind passes, and the flowers are content.” (Helen Keller)

She is my inspiration in life. Once she found her passion for learning, she became an internationally recognized scholar and read (in braille) more than a dozen languages. She wrote books and essays all her life. I will never be as accomplished as her, but I can find joy and love whenever I look for it.

And with that thought, my dear friends, I will leave you for the week. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and my gratitude for him is boundless. Until we meet again. I wish you all good things. Be well.

Weathery and windy

Some of the great crew

 I love my volunteer work very much. Every Thursday and Friday I join others, like the ones in this picture, to set up the lunchroom, serve the clients who come every day (not everyone comes every day, but many do), and clean up the place after it's all over. I am totally impressed with the system, which seems to work pretty seamlessly when everybody shows up who is on the schedule. You notice we seem to be mostly female, but we have some great guys who join us too.

After we arrive in the lunchroom around 10:30, we work pretty constantly until 1:00, when everybody needs to have left so the next project can take place in the lunchroom. This past Friday we saw a tap-dancing class come in when we finished. By 1:00, we will have taken all the tables down (there are 11 of them, each seating six. It works out well, actually, and during lunch, the regulars will find a seat and enjoy the wonderful lunch that the cooks have prepared for them. On days when salmon or salisbury steak is served, it can get very crowded. The place can accommodate up to 175 over the period. Mostly people eat and leave, especially if we are truly crowded and there are no seats left. But many come every day not only to eat, but also to have social connections.

This past week, I had an appointment in Fairhaven to have my ear wax cleaned out. I found out about this service from one of my yoga companions on Wednesday and called them to find out when I might be able to use their service. It turned out to be 3:00 Friday, the first opening, so I took it. Once we finished our work at the Senior Center, my friend Michelle drove me there, and since there was time before my appointment, we did a little clothes shopping. Michelle is an expert at finding good deals, and I ended up with two blouses before I went into the office. It only took a few minutes before I was seated in a comfortable chair and removed my hearing aids. The woman who did the work was quick and efficient. It didn't hurt, but I did have quite a bit of wax in my left ear, and I listened to the whistling and other interesting sounds as she cleaned them out completely. I was thrilled by the difference between walking in there and walking out: I could HEAR so much better. I had to turn down the volume in both hearing aids before I was comfortable again. It wasn't cheap, but it sure was worth it. I will be back, but she said I shouldn't need another treatment for at least a year.

I sure wish there was something that easy to treat my eyes, but there isn't. As I continue to lose my central vision, it has become quite uncomfortable to drive very far; I only attempt it for short trips in well-known areas, and only when the weather is sunny and bright. I can still function well in most settings, using head lamps when I am outdoors in the dark, like walking to the bus in the morning. Bright lights sure help everything I try to do with my failing eyesight.

However, considering my advancing age and abilities slipping away, I am very fortunate to still continue to function well enough for now. These things don't stay the same, and I am doing everything I know how to keep moving and keep myself going in the right direction for as long as possible. I love my life, and I know how much I love still being able to enjoy almost everything I have always done. 

Being a morning person, I have a routine that helps me start every day with serenity. Once I make a cup of tea and take it back into my bedroom, I slip back into bed, prop myself up with pillows and enjoy the tea while I solve the wordle of the day. It usually takes me about fifteen or twenty minutes, but it so satisfying to start the day with an accomplishment. I do occasionally not get the word, but it's rare. On Sundays,  once my tea is gone and the puzzle solved, I get up, dress, and go onto the front porch to do my Tibetan exercises. It is obvious to me that these essential practices help me start every day with a smile. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, being a night person who goes to bed long after I do, and I then get up and tiptoe out, hoping not to wake him. John will be coming to pick me up at 7:15 for our usual Sunday breakfast.

I also realize how lucky I am to have found a virtual community that I care deeply about. If I have time before getting up, I sometimes have the time to read blogs that were posted since I last visited The Old Reader, which lists them for me, and I read them every day. If you are one of my  virtual friends, I read about your life and usually leave a comment. It is a community that didn't exist a few decades ago, but for those I follow, it's been part of my life to care about your trials, tribulations, and concerns. It helps give me some perspective on life, as we are all on this boat together. So, don't ever forget how important you are to at least one of your followers.

And now it's time to get up. I wish you, my dear friends, all good things in the coming week. Until we meet again, be well.

No Kings Day

Before the rally

Yesterday, before the No Kings Rally in Bellingham started, I got there early, having gone to the ecoffee shop with Steve and then we went to a short walk. We decided to go to the site of the upcoming rally and see how it looked before the throngs would arrive. Before Steve left to join a scheduled breakfast, we did see how the scene for the No Kings Rally.

Me and new friend Roseann

I found a spot on a bench and made myself comfortable, and in the process I met a new friend, Roseann, who shared the bench with me for awhile. It was spitting a little light rain, but nothing to worry about. I was well dressed with a jacket and my raincoat over it. 

By the time I was deciding to walk around and take pictures, as more and more people arrived, I saw that many of whom were dressed in costumes: a red Handmaid's Tale outfit, lots of inflatable whatsis, and even a few seven-foot-tall people on stilts. It was a lot of fun, and I kept getting overcome by emotion as I saw more and more people showing up. This is the best final picture I was able to get:

It was so much bigger than this

Once I arrived home, which was by bus, I was a little damp but not really soaked as I would have been had I gone home later. During the rally, our spirits rose and we all had a fun time together. I walked back to the bus station and turned on the TV to see what the rallies looked like in other parts of the country. It was an incredible turnout, all in all, and I'll be interested to see what the final numbers will be from across the country.

San Francisco 

I found this information from the Independent about how many were protesting in the streets of America:

Nearly 7 million people across the country turned out for the second “No Kings” protests against President Donald Trump and his administration, marking the largest single-day demonstration against a sitting president in modern history, organizers said.

Looking at the weather through pictures, it looks like it was really nice across most of the country. We had some rain, but that is to be expected here in the Pacific Northwest. I am so glad to have had the chance to be a part of this historic event. Even though my eyes are getting worse, as long as I can still walk and function in the world, I will remain a happy old gal. And continue to write and read posts.

Time goes by, and since I know there is only one direction to travel with my eyesight, I sometimes get a little down over it all, but I can also be happy to be doing as well as I am. I saw several people whom I have hiked with in the past, and we were very happy to be out there together, adding our protests to the world. It is a very good life, and I live in one of the best places in the country, so it seems wrong to focus on what's wrong with the world and not on what's right. 

And here I sit, quiet surrounding me as my sweet partner still sleeps next to me, and I know that John will pick me up in his truck/chariot and transport me to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday breakfast. Yes, there is much to be grateful for, and I choose love and light instead of gloom. Why not? Isn't life to be cherished as long as we have it? I continue to be surrounded by good thoughts and good people, so I am content. I hope you have a wonderful week, dear friends. Until we meet again, be well.

Wet, soggy but delightful

Wet pavement and brilliant trees

 Yesterday, I met Steve and John at the coffee shop and we decided, as a group, to stay out of the weather, which was unremittingly wet, and go instead to a local restaurant (the Daisy) for breakfast. I sure didn't have much desire to pile on the rain gear I brought, just in case I could be cajoled into braving the weather. Nope, nobody else was champing at the bit to go catch some rainbows. We enjoyed a very nice breakfast, and then John headed home, reminding me that we would see each other on Sunday (today) for our usual Fairhaven breakfast.

Steve and I waffled a bit before deciding to just go for a drive around town in his nice warm (and dry) car. That picture above was taken on Cordata Parkway, before we found a parking place at the community college where he works, and he took me on a tour of the Chemistry Department. The college is quite beautiful at every time of the year. I see the campus a few times a week on my bus ride to the Senior Center North, for my yoga classes.

Gentle scene from the first floor

There was a time, not so long ago, that I would not let a little thing like rain stop me from going on a hike. But that was then, and I've decided that it's just fine for me to stay inside and wrap myself in a favorite blanket and sit in my favorite chair.  And now that I am just a few months away from my eighty-third birthday, I have been telling new friends that I am already 83. Gotta get used to those huge numbers gradually, right?

I had a great week, considering everything going on. I have been trying to keep my spirits up as I watch my beloved country struggling every day with the politics of it all. I try to pretend that we will be all right, but I have my fingers crossed most of the time, hoping it will indeed turn out for the best.

I worked in the lunchroom both Thursday and Friday, getting more than 10,000 steps each day, and I talked to my sister Norma Jean for an hour or two on Wednesday. She lives in Florida, and I live in Washington State, thousands of miles apart but connected to each other by love, decades of life, and the internet. She's never known a world without me in it. And I cannot imagine my world without her presence. Fortunately, we are both in pretty good shape for our ages (she's two+ years younger and never lets me forget it). One of my favorite actresses, Diane Keaton, just died this week, and it reminds me once again that we are, each one of us, headed for the same fate, although I think she was too young to die, only 79. As I age, I find that anybody younger than me should still be vigorous and healthy. That is getting harder as I know that it's a privilege to be an octogenarian, not at all guaranteed. 

Steve outside his office and labs

It ended up raining just under an inch yesterday, with the same amount forecasted for today. It's been awhile since we've had that much rain, so it was really needed for the ground to get saturated before the cold comes. I am ready for the change in weather, and I look forward to continuing to enjoy the beautiful world that surrounds me. Although I can no longer see it clearly, it's still there, and I am still able to walk to the bus, take care of the seniors who look forward to my ministrations, and stay active, although in a limited capacity.

I have so much to be grateful for, but it's not easy watching my eyesight continue to deteriorate, slowly but surely. Of all the maladies I could have imagined befalling me, losing my ability to see clearly is not one I would wish on anybody. But apparently the rest of my physical body is doing well. I get to visit the dentist in the middle of the week, which I really don't like but see the necessity for the cleaning and examination of another part that is gradually deteriorating. *Sigh* I can either lament getting older or embrace it and make the best of it. Fortunately everybody I love and hang out with are also on this journey with me, so I am not alone.

You, my favorite virtual friends, are finding your own ways through the maze. I am jost so glad you are still around, still here to tell me about your own worlds and how you are coping. I send a heartfelt prayer in your direction, letting you know that you are not alone. Climb on board and let's see what adventures lie ahead this coming year. It bodes well for us all that we are still connected and engaged in life. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

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.