Category Archives: rural doctor

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We make up all the words

My daughter says, “We make up all the words.” Authentic is the word of the year, but what does it mean to you and what does it mean to me? I am reading a book about the brain, The Neuroscience of You, by Chantel Prat PhD, brand new last year and from the library. She talks about nemotodes. A certain species has 302 neurons in the brain. Humans have 86 billion neurons in each brain. The nemotodes have been studied so that each neuron is mapped, but we still cannot predict exactly what an individual nemotode will do when presented with a new situation. Humans, obviously, are worse. She is writing about the wiring we are born with and then how experiences shape and change the wiring. I am very much enjoying this book. I am a science nerd and love fiction and poetry as well. Word nerd. When my daughter and I disagree about what something means, or what words mean, she reminds me: “We make up all the words.” Many diagnoses in medicine are really lists of symptoms and the more things on the list, the more likely it is that diagnosis. However, there is still a “number needed to treat” which tells me how many people have to be on a medicine to help one. That number always makes me a bit gloomy because I don’t think it is ever one. Some illness are pretty clear: a broken bone, a sick appendix. Others are mysterious, we don’t know what causes them and they can take years to diagnose, like multiple sclerosis. And then the behavioral lists, the latest version being the DSM-V. The diagnoses of behavioral health illnesses CHANGED. Well, some did, some didn’t. Words change their meanings, AI listens in, my phone wants me to tell everyone I am at a restaurant (why would you care?) and we pay lip service to authenticity, people being themselves, except then sometimes, no, we don’t like it after all.

And that is my authentic feeling as much as I can put it in to words this minute.

I like this photograph. What will the photographer do? Go out? Jump in? Fall in? Go home for tea? I can be most authentic out in nature when I often am not thinking in words so much as sensory impressions. Wind, cold, water sounds, light, the sunrise, clouds, birds, deer, and what do I see in the water?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: authentic.

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Holiday songs

This my current favorite new holiday song. I didn’t get it until halfway through, because I wasn’t listening quite hard enough. And then! So, is this a carol? Hmmmm. Doesn’t quite meet the definition but it’s still a fabulous and creative song. I got to hear Vance Gilbert at the Nowhereelse Festival in Ohio two years ago. I did get this CD and really really like it.

I have not heard this one in the grocery stores yet. Maybe I should encourage them?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: carol.

The photograph is from 2012. This is the last bonsai that survived both my mother’s death in 2000 and my father’s in 2013.

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Cauldron

2 Ways to Manage the Emotional Cauldron of Anger
Freud’s Theory of the Unconscious Mind

So, the iceberg graphic is wrong, wrong, wrong. Am I right? Icebergs are about 90% below the surface, which is NOT what the picture shows. Regarding the first article, preset timeouts? I think when two people are losing it, that may go by the wayside. My strategy is, “I have to use the bathroom.” It might take a while if I am really upset and want to rip the sink off the wall. But, it lets me cool down, cool off and not say terrible things. Let them stay inside my head until I am calmer and realize how stupid and nasty I wanted to be.

But let’s think about cauldrons, yes? A stew of emotions? Our culture still has little respect for emotions. Just think if we were all nice on the surface all the time and never showed any other emotion. Bunch of AI robots, I think.

Cauldron

It’s not so surprising to look up the emotional cauldron
and have it be about anger. Anger in couples, but the cauldron itself
brings up witches and therefore women. Women in black
women with cauldrons, women boiling angry.

I vacillate between thinking that black men are treated the worst and then, no,
women are treated the worst. Assumptions, useless, toys, pretty, be nice,
true that women don’t get shot as much, but our country found a black man acceptable
in the white house, but not a woman, black or white.

Anger is not nice, I am told. But anger is appropriate at injustice, when people
are discriminated against, treated badly, pushed from homes, jailed, hung and shot.
Much of our country reveres guns to protect homes, a man’s home is his castle,
and what is left for women? Not the workplace, the public, the home.

How dare they take the cauldron as a symbol of anger stewing?
The truth is that men fear women’s anger and rightly. They fear the people
who are enslaved, discriminated against, shot and dismissed, rising up.
Rising angry, anger not in a cauldron, but hot as lava and righteous.

A sermon about fear and abuse and the minister says, this is where anger can be understood
and is right. Anger at the abuse and at the fear, letting people break free.
Energizing a person to leave abuse, to leave an intolerable situation
and no reconciliation without the abuser taking responsibility.

What the cauldron really holds is greed, the people who think they deserve
more than others, more money, more women, more adulation, more more more.
Greed, gossip, lust, and all the other sins. Anger at mistreatment is not wrong
though it may not be safe to show it. Let it be conscious even if not expressed

and fight on.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: emotional cauldron.

The photograph is my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway, in 1945. She was seven. I have photographs of my daughter and me with the same expression. Not anger, thought. I cannot credit the photograph because I don’t know who took it.

And to lighten the mood, both sexes are profiled.

Not all anger is right, though, and it’s often because of different interpretations, different frames of reference or misunderstanding.

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Mortal

I am feeling mortal.

I am in my post-pneumonia phase where people say, “Well, you LOOK great.” This is round four, so it’s not a surprise. It just took two years this time, instead of two months. In 2003 it took two months.

There are various things feeding in to this. A friend my age has had a stroke. “NO!” I think, “TOO YOUNG!” The death of the actor from friends bothers me mostly because he’s nearly a decade younger. Drugs and alcohol shorten the lifespan by quite a bit. A study checking for five things: inactivity, drugs, tobacco, alcohol and very heavy weight showed that the people with all five tended to die 20 years sooner than the people with none. That study was at least a decade ago if not two. So cross off about 4 years for any of those, sigh. A cardiologist recently said tobacco is worse than alcohol and now I am wondering how much worse? And how do they measure that? Tobacco kills more but serious alcohol use is a lot faster at killing people. Both of them affect all body systems: GI, heart, lungs, brain, bone marrow, liver, kidneys, and so forth. Even skin.

Also, the last lung test was still abnormal even though I am off oxygen and feeling mostly good. I am having muscle trouble though. Every morning I wake with really bad pain in both thighs and whatever muscles I’ve been trying to build. This has been going on since at least August. Since I think that this is an antibody disorder, it implies that the antibody baseline has risen to the point where my muscles are grumpy and hurt. Alternatively it could be a Long Covid issue: microclots could be clogging the capillaries in the muscles when I exercise and causing hypoxia in muscles, which means they can’t build. Muscle cells are fascinating. When you exercise the cells need more food and build new insulin receptors in the cell wall. So exercise changes the individual muscle cells! How very amazing. My muscles are resisting the build and it is very annoying. There is research going on re the microclots, but there is bleeding risk from the anticoagulants including strokes. So, um, well, I seem to be stuck. It is not stopping me from hiking and dancing and being active but boy does it hurt in the mornings.

This is not very bucolic, is it? I am still attending the Long Covid talks and it is really fascinating and quite scary. It’s just a very very nasty virus. I wish it would calm down. The 1918-1921 influenza really calmed down after three years, but there are no guarantees. Anyhow, at least I can dance!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bucolic.

The photograph is taken in Michigan in 2014.

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Ready

My camellia is on the south facing wall of the house and is budded and ready to bloom. It usually blooms here in late January or early February. The seasons confuse me here: I still expect it to be warm by April and it really is not warm then at all. We often see very erratic sun until July fourth, when the sun deigns to shine on us. By then the days are shortening already!

With the climate changing, I don’t know what the camellia will do. We had our record breaking day of 100 degrees Fahrenheit two summers ago. My plum tree had about three plums this year and one rhododendron died slowly over the next year after the heat. It put out blooms last spring but it was cold and cold and cold and it finally just moved on to leaves and died. I did water for the hot two weeks, but it was not enough. What further changes will we see?

For Cee’s Flower of the Day.