Tag Archives: outdoors

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Log jam

“Oh, the tulips are lovely! Whose garden is it?”

“That’s a log jam.”

“Log jam? No, I mean the tulips on the log.”

“Log jam. Right guys?”

“Yeah!” “Yes.” “Oh, yeah, that’s a log jam. Don’t you know log jam?”

“You are pulling my leg,” says Trish.

Heads all shake, no, no. “Log jam.” “Yeah, traditional.” Whisper: “She’s from where?”

Trish falls for the furphy, hook, line and tulip, once again.

“Just wait’ll we take you snipe hunting.”

________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: furphy.

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What the body wants

My lungs are much much better than a year ago, shown by no problem at altitude at rest. Of course, I did not exercise heavily above 5000 feet, but walked a lot.

The last three days I have been waking up very very stiff, knees hurting when I walk downstairs, and throat closed again.

I think it’s about work. I am contemplating going back to work. I am getting a clear “not yet” message from my body. I was sick for two years and it’s only been a month that my muscles have been working normally. Same with lungs. So I think the stiffness is the body resisting.

In clinic sometimes I would have people draw two charts. A pie chart of a day. The first chart is how they are spending their days now. The second chart is what they want. In order to do more of what you want, you have to do less of something you are presently doing. What are you going to cut out? Not food or sleep or baths or maintaining the home. How about television?

Anyhow, I added a third chart, to do a few days after the first two. Draw a pie chart of what your body wants. I had one person say, “But my body just wants to sit and do nothing!” I said, “So when are you going to do that?” At first she said, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. After a while she said maybe. Then she rearranged work and took a two week vacation. She said, “After a week, one day I had a book, a cup of tea, the cat on my lap, the dog on my feet, and suddenly my body just entirely relaxed. And then it stayed relaxed.”

She went back to work. “Are you still relaxed?” I asked. “Not all the time, but when I start tightening up, it’s often because I am taking on someone else’s problem. I am learning to let it be their problem, not mine.”

I am listening to my body too. What does it want? Not yet, for work. I have some work at home, or some jobs to do there first.

Wise body, I am listening.

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Sinecure

Sinecure

Sometimes patients are a mystery.

A relatively young man comes to see me.
Problems, a bit intricate, I type a thorough
history as we talk. I make suggestions
and he is to return in a few weeks.
He receives a copy of the note and plan
spit out by the printer.

He returns. There is a pain component.
He does not bring the journal I suggested.
He seems no better. I add a little to the plan
and suggest that he return again.

And again and again. Fourth visit. No journal.
“What have you tried that I have suggested?”
He replies, “I haven’t read your notes yet.”
“You haven’t read my notes yet? In three months?
I’ll tell you what: how about you return after
you read my notes and try some
of my suggestions. Why come in if you aren’t interested
in trying anything?” I do not go to rage.
It is not my problem. It is his problem.
If he doesn’t like the plan or doesn’t want to read
(yes he can read) or doesn’t want change,
that is his choice. Don’t waste my time.

He does not return.

It is a mystery. What did he want?
Why didn’t he tell me if he wanted something else?
If it was opiates perhaps he asked around
and decided I am the wrong “provider”
since I am very careful about those provisions.

A mystery. I wonder if it could have played out
differently. Then I let it go and move on.

_________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sinecure.

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Long Covid and post pneumonia update

I was up above 5000 feet last week and did not need oxygen.

This is wonderful! I was on oxygen continuously from March of 2021 for a year and a half. I was really getting better and then had my Covid booster in early October. I crashed again. Do I regret the shot? No, because the crash is because antibodies went back up. Only some of them, though. My muscles and lungs were not working well again, but brain was fine (ok, some people do not like my brain, but they are idiots) and aside from having to avoid gluten, no digestive stuff.

About a month ago I really started feeling my fast twitch muscles work again. It was two years in March since this fourth pneumonia and I’ve had something Long Covid like after each one. Recovery took 2 months in 2003, 2 months in 2012 and 6 months off in 2014 and then an ongoing mild chronic fatigue, so I worked about half of a regular family medicine schedule. I saw 7-10 people per day instead of 16-22. I was also a single parent running a business with two children, so that has a lot of energy draw as well.

On the second morning there, my pulse was 61 and oxygen level 98% on room air. HOORAY! I am back to baseline from 2014. Since it took 2 years to recover, I really do not want to do this again. No more pneumonia. I have had two more rounds of Covid, but apparently the super high antibody level made it really really mild. An immunologist tested the antibodies since I keep getting pneumonia. He said I have the highest Covid antibody level he’s ever seen. Protective was over 50 and mine was 25,000. I seem to be darn good at making antibodies.

Now what? I have felt better for the last month. I still get tired and have about a half day of the energy level from my 20s or 30s, which was high. I am hiking, up to 6 miles in a day twice two weeks ago. Now to start biking and maybe running. I don’t like to run but it’s good training. I want to ski next winter at least one day. Maybe I will swim too. I used to swim a mile twice a week, but it’s been a long time. Also my swim team daughter expressed scorn for my freestyle stroke. Sigh, children are born to humble us, which sucks.

I am still trying to see if I can work with Long Covid patients. I have rather too much experience with something very like it. But I think I would like to enjoy feeling well for a month or two, first!

Hooray! I hope other Long Covid folks are working their way out of the woods too.

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The weight of water

Sometimes water looks light and flighty in photographs, but here is Crocker Lake, with the water looking thick and deep. A mirror, inviolate. A surface that we can almost believe we can step on. Water IS heavy.

_________________________

The weight of water

You don’t realize the weight of water

I say I am a sea, deep, the emotions on the surface only
you dismiss me, female, lesser, emotional, unimportant
except for your uses. I should be receptive, listen, not speak.
You have no interest in my life, except when you want
my services.

You don’t believe me until the day
you look down and fall. The waters close
over your head. The weights you’ve tied
around your ankles carry you down down.
Welcome to the depths.

Welcome to the weight of water.

___________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: thick.

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The color of fame

I never thought I would be famous. I never thought I’d be a zombie either, but a famous zombie? In demand for murals?

When the zombie illness first hit, hundreds of years ago, we were hunted nearly to extinction. The discrimination was terrible and we were killed in heartless horrific ways. We hid and never ever spoke to humans. We often starved. And the movies that depicted us! We were never saying “Brains!” We were saying “Pains!” And get over the idea that we want to bite you! We don’t. It just hurts so much when we are hidden in the deserts and can’t get food, that we bite in despair. After all, our neurological fine motor skills only work when we are fed. Not with brains but with color! Color, crayons, paints, pencils, glorious and exquisite color.

Doesn’t this pain you too?

Browns and greys and tans and muds. The blue sky helps a little and the yellow of the sign, but any zombie suffers horrifically in this sort of environment. Parts of us start falling off! You think we are rotting, but you humans are wrong so often. You think you know everything.

But we finally managed to communicate! Someone threw their paint cans at us, a graffiti artist, and we were off. He was a mere amateur with color. No one can color like a zombie! The humans are jealous and beg us to teach them. A few have even begged to become zombies, so that they can see color the way we do. No way. We aren’t stupid enough to do that. You’ll just have to keep paying us to paint the beauty that feeds us and that you long for now too!

I am so proud of my art and proud that we zombies have been freed and at last are welcomed by humans.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: colorful.

The previous zombie story is here.