Monthly Archives: December 2022

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Catch and release

The chances of you changing are quite small.
I know from very early in our time.
Why God makes angels that will one day fall.
We could be sent to teach each other rhymes
or something else. I wonder at it daily.
My heart opens like a flower even so.
The candle just at dusk burns quite palely.
I wonder what excuse you’ll use to go.
It’s a comic denouement I see at last.
You denigrate my knowledge and my skill.
After exposure you refuse to wear a mask
or test. I rise in anger at ill will.
It’s comic that I’ve liked your busy mind.
Respect for mine is nil: you elk’s behind.

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Yesterday

A triple play: a loss, a gain, a change.

Yesterday

Yesterday our friendship died for good
A small death that won’t be noticed
I want to place a small cross on the day
to mark this death and life
life because my small child is gone
she grew up, now part of the quiet woman
who came to me in a dream
when you left
you move on and tell me you won’t change
so you will find another to draw close
and push away, terror
that you will be trapped
you already are, in your own mind
you say you want freedom
in refusing change, that is death
slow and alone, is lonely different from alone?
call it freedom as you wish

I want to grow, I want to learn always
you want your past, your dead
you tell me I am keeping you from your life
you have it back I say as music restarts
I don’t, you say, my brother is dead, my wife
I did not cause those
they happened before we began to walk
and yet you blame me
like an angry child

I am in the gardens wandering
I am in the gardens wondering
the gardens of the world
everything is a garden
though some are planted with skulls
and young people fighting
It is strange to feel whole
I do not know what to do with it yet
but I will

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I have fallen for this band. I am really enjoying them.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: triple.

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strange

This is part of the decorations in the park by the Kingston, Washington ferry terminal. I think this is a candy cane in the tree. I am afraid that the song that popped into my mind is NOT one of seasonal ones.

And here is another object, this one hanging in the sky.

Live long and prosper.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: hang.

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In the box

Wednesday was interesting and frustrating and part was beautiful.

The beautiful part was arriving at the Kingston, Washington ferry dock early. I took photographs of the quite gorgeous light display while I waited for the 6:25 ferry.

On the other side, I drove to Swedish Hospital, Cherry Hill. There I had another set of pulmonary function tests. The technician was very good. She said that since I have a normal forced vital capacity it does not look like asthma. However, a ratio was at 64% of normal, which is related to small airways.

“Have you had allergy testing?” she asks, “And a methacholine challenge?”

“Yes,” I say. “Both. In 2014. No allergies at all and the methacholine was negative.”

“Hmmmm.” she says.

Afterwards we call pulmonary. I have an appointment on this next Wednesday but we call and ask if there is a cancellation and I can get seen today, since I am two hours from home already.

Yes, there is, but I have to hurry to Issaquah, Washington.

There is an accident on the I90 bridge, so I do not think I will make it. But I am there by ten and the pulmonologist will see me. I check in, fill out paperwork, wait, go in the room, a medical assistant asks questions.

The pulmonologist comes in. He is nice and is able to pull up the chest CT from 2012, two of them since the first one “couldn’t rule out cancer”. Since I am referred for hypoxia without a clear cause, he questions me about my heart. Echocardiogram, zio patch (2), bubble study, yeah, it has all been normal. I describe getting sick and tachycardic and hypoxic and coughing.

“Do you cough anything up?”

“No.”

“Do you cough now?”

“Yes, if I exercise or get tired.”

He is like many physician specialists that I have seen. He has a number of pulmonary diagnoses, or boxes. Emphysema, COPD, lung cancer, bronchiectasis, chronic bronchitis, the progressive muscular disorders. All of those are ruled out in the past. So he puts me in the asthma box.

“I thought asthma was ruled out with the methacholine.” I say.

“Well, you have SOMETHING going on in the lower airways, and it was present in the 2021 and the 2012 pulmonary function tests. Maybe an asthma medicine will help.”

I mention ME-CFS and my muscles not working right, but he only deals with lungs. He won’t say a word about those disorders.

Sigh. I do not get the improvement with albuterol that diagnoses asthma on the pfts and never have. The formal reading of the pfts is that I do not meet criteria for asthma but there is something in the lower airways.

Monsters, maybe? I’ll try the inhaler, though with skepticism. Antibodies seem like a better guess, but antibodies are outside this pulmonologist’s set of boxes.

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The photograph is from Swedish, Cherry Hill, bird’s eye view from the balcony.

Methacholine test.

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Query tale

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is question. Those cat tail question marks come to mind. When I am having tea in the morning, Elwha guards me, facing the doors of the kitchen. There are three doors, so he has to triangulate the angle just right.

I think the question here is clear: “WHY aren’t you rubbing my belly? WHAT do you have to do that is better than that?”

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: question.

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Grace the Sea Serpent

This is Grace, a Winter Break Sea Serpent. She is visiting the Kingson, WA, in the park right by the ferry dock. There are many other creatures. I am not sure what the Sea Turtle’s name is, but she and Grace are clearly friends.

This all seems to be very watery.

There are some more earthly critters, if this is what I think it is.

Striking terror in the heart of gardeners everywhere.

I still like Grace best.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: grace.