Outdoor feed

My daughter, her housemate and her housemate’s parents came Friday night. We all went to Arches National Park yesterday morning. This is part of the Parade of Elephants.

This morning we went to the Colorado National Monument again.

My daughter and I both practically backed away from this optical illusion. CUT THAT OUT! NOT FUNNY!

Anyhow, the outdoors is my feed, nourishing and amazing all the time.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: feed.

Beading memory

Both I and my sister have done some beading.

She gave me this necklace one of the last three times I saw her. She was at home with breast cancer and referred to hospice. I flew down to visit three times in the last three months. I was expecting it before then but she was very very strong and fought it all the way to the end.

We were both born in March, so this has amethysts. She liked silver more than gold and we both liked the irregularly shaped pearls. I am not sure what the dark round beads are. They could be bloodstones, which were the March birthstone before amethyst took over. I like the clasp in the front and that it is not symmetric. My sister died in 2012 and of course I still miss her.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: beading.

Tough cat

Sol Duc is quite a cat. The other morning I let her into the fenced back yard. I went back in to get my tea.

There is a knock at the front door. I open it and there is Sol Duc. “Meow!” which I hear as “Mom, I’m not supposed to be in front of the house without you.”

She comes in and I take my tea to the back. Oh.

Yes, I see the problem. She went into the neighbor’s yard and then around to the front. But she didn’t run off, she knocked. Apparently the storm was pretty hard on the fence.

This morning, after two days of rain, there were lots of small frogs singing to the sunrise in the man made run off space across the street. There is about a foot of water in it and the small frogs were all singing to their true loves. They continued to sing as the sun rose. Guess they better make hay while the pond is present, or something like that.

Sol Duc is a tough cat and smart. I think she still misses Elwha too, especially when I am at work, but she is careful not to run off.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: tough.

Adverse Childhood Experiences 15: Guidelines

I wrote Adverse Childhood Experiences 14: Hope quite a while ago.

The American Academy of Pediatrics has a guideline that physicians should introduce and screen for Adverse Childhood Experiences. The American Academy of Family Practice is skeptical, here: https://www.aafp.org/pubs/afp/issues/2014/1215/p822.html. Here are two more writeups: https://www.aafp.org/pubs/afp/issues/2020/0701/p55.html and https://www.aafp.org/pubs/fpm/blogs/inpractice/entry/screen_for_aces.html.

It is difficult to screen for ACE scores for the same reason that it is difficult to screen for domestic violence and to talk about end of life plans. These are difficult topics and everyone may be uncomfortable. Besides, what can we DO about it? If growing up in trauma wires someone’s brain differently, what do we do?

I don’t frame it as the person being “damaged”. Instead, I bring up the ACE score study and say that first I congratulate people for surviving their childhood. Good job! Congratulations! You have reached adulthood! Now what?

With a high ACE score comes increased risk of addictions (all of them), mental health diagnoses (same) and chronic disease. Is this a death sentence? Should we give up? No, I think there is a lot we can do. I frame this as having “survival” brain wiring instead of “Leave it to Beaver” brain wiring. The need to survive difficulties and untrustworthy adults during childhood can set up behavior patterns that extend into adulthood. Are there patterns that we want to change and that are not serving us as adults?

This week a person said that they blow up too easily. Ah, that is one that I had to work on for years. Medical training helps but also learning that anger often covers other feelings: grief, fear, shame. I had to work to uncover those feelings and learn to feel them instead of anger. Anger can function as a boundary in childhood homes where there are not adult role models, or where the adults behave one way when sober and an entirely different way when impaired and under the influence. There may be lip service to behave a certain way but if the adult doesn’t behave, it is pretty confusing. And then the adult may not remember or be in denial or try to blame someone else, including the child, for “causing” them to be impaired.

What if someone had a “normal” childhood but the trauma all hit as a young adult? I think adults can have trauma that changes the brain too. PTSD in non-military is most often caused by motor vehicle accidents. At least, that is what I was told in the last PTSD talk I went to. Now that overdose deaths have overtaken motor vehicle accidents as the top death by accident yearly in the US, I wonder if having a fentenyl death in the family causes PTSD. Certainly it causes trauma and grief and anger and shame.

I agree with the American Academy of Pediatrics that we should screen for Adverse Childhood Experiences. We need training in how to talk about it and how to respond. I have had people tell me that their childhood was fine and then later tell me that one or both parents were alcoholics. The “fine” childhood might not have been quite as fine as reported initially. One of the hallmarks of addiction families is denial: not happening, we don’t talk about it, everything is fine. Maybe it is not fine after all. If we can learn to talk to adults about the effects on children and help people to change even in small ways, I have hope that we will help children. We can’t prevent all trauma to children, but we can mitigate it. All the ACE scores rose during the Covid pandemic and we are still working on how to help each other and ourselves.

Here is another article: https://www.aafp.org/pubs/fpm/issues/2019/0300/p5.html.

Blessings.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: open wound.

The photograph is one of Elwha’s cat art installations. He would pile toys on his bowl. Two bowels because I need to keep out the little ants. Sol Duc would do it too but not as often. I fed them in separate rooms. They would pile things on the bowl whether there was food left or not.

Elwha is still missing, sigh. That is a wound. The photographs are from March 2023.

Soldier on

Older
bolder
golder
told yer
moulder
soldier on

What is older? Anything and anyone older than me? At one point I have 5 women who are over 100 years old as patients. Two are 104. One is local indigenous tribe and tells me about white women moving to another pew if she sat down near them in church, back when she is in her twenties. I am apologetic at that visit because it is hospital week. Our pacific northwest hospital has chosen cowboys as the theme so being a bit oppositional defiant, I have braids with one feather hanging down. I swear that EVERY ONE of my indigenous patients comes in, including the 104 year old. I apologize, but they mostly seem amused by my rebellion.

They also influence me. Now when a 72 year old complains about being OLD, I say, “You are not old in my practice.” They look confused. I say, “I’ve had five people over 100 all at once, so you don’t get to complain about being old until you are 90.” People laugh, but they also usually look pleased. Over 100 is a LOT older than 72. When someone is over 100, I don’t really doctor them much. I might say, “This is what the book says we should do.” “I’m not doing that,” says my 101 year old. “Ok, cool.” I say. It’s hard to argue with.

And the joke about the centurian? What do you like best about turning 100? “No peer pressure.” Um, yes. I want them to tell ME what they’ve done to reach 100. The one thing that they all have in common is that they are all stubborn. I don’t know if stubbornness is what gets them there or if we just get more stubborn as we get older. Both, perhaps.

By stubborn, I don’t mean that they don’t learn and do new things. I had a woman in her upper 70s who I diagnosed with diabetes. At the next visit she said cheerfully, “I found these five apps for my phone. This one tells me the carbohydrates, this keeps track of the distance I walk, this one tracks my blood sugar.” I don’t remember what the other two did. This was a decade ago. She was retired from Microsoft. I wanted her to teach a class for me and all of my other diabetic patients.

My grandmother took classes in her 80s in lip-reading. She was going quite deaf and her hearing aides were not terribly helpful. She had videotapes and a rather shy teacher who would come to the house. She would glare at him and the videotapes. She attacked learning it like a piranha and was furious that she couldn’t learn it faster. I am like that too and my son learned some patience from the violin. He couldn’t play well immediately and found that practice works.

At what age is someone old? I think that’s moving target and the older we get, the older we think it is. I do think 104 is a lot older than 72. When does your culture think that people are old? My fierce grandmother said that she would look out her window. “I see little old ladies across the street and think, oh, poor things, they are so old. But then I think, OH, I am older then they are!” She died at age 93, fierce until the end and curious about death too. Her last words to my father were, “Look, Mac, I’m dying.” He said, “I’m looking,” and she stopped breathing. She was always curious and funny and could tease quite terribly and she and my mother butted heads and loved each other. She loved my father too, and me.

The photograph is my maternal grandmother, Katherine White Burling and it’s one I took.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: older.

Serendipity

I took this zoom shot of Independence Monument in the Colorado National Monument. I was pretty much blind, but I’ve spend so much time photographing in sunlight on the beach, that I am happy with the composition. I had no idea that I captured the climbers until I looked at it at home.

This is without any zoom.

Zooming closer.

And later along the canyon, we saw the first climber on top. They are both there, but I was shooting blind again.

What an amazing and fabulous day.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: off-beat.

Northern lights

Walt Kelly wrote this poem, which I love.

Northern lights

Oh, roar a roar for Nora,
Nora Alice in the night,
For she has seen Aurora
Borealis burning bright.

A furore for our Nora!
And applaud Aurora seen!
Where, throughout the Summer, has
Our Borealis been?

________________________

A friend named her daughter Nora and I sent her a copy. I especially love the word furore, because it doesn’t rhyme , even though it seems like it should.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: aurora.

Elwha is still missing and I did not see the aurora, though tons of friends have posted pictures. This shot of Elwha is from January. I wonder if he saw the lights in the sky?