Picking apples

I have two trees: a Wolf River and a Gravenstein. I picked the Gravensteins over a month ago, but the Wolfe Rivers like to stay on the tree longer. I will pick a bunch today. They are lovely and wonderful pie apples. Picking is not quite overdue!

Meanwhile, my magnolia has damage this morning.

Human? No, I don’t think so.

That spike or the 3 prong in the neighborhood, sharpening their antlers. I have watched them other places in town. It feels safer from a car. I think I need some protection for the magnolia.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: overdue.

Design and build

The Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Sculpture Race has some serious designers. I don’t know if they use a forge, but the sculptures have to go in the 52 degree water and come out a few blocks away. They have to move in the water, not just float. They have to have functional brakes, since they go over a significant hill and they are human powered. They have to get through the mudbog somehow.

Some go for power and some try to go light. This one looked the lightest this year.

Many have been in more than one race and the racers and their support teams are happy to lift the hood and explain.

The two bundles under the hood are lifejackets and floats for the water course. They have to carry all the parts on the sculpture. Each team can have support personnel. Our local school kids’ STEM groups had a Maker’s Fair near the water course. We have a group that has made an underwater robot to fish out lost crab pots. If the pot’s line is lost, crabs and other creatures can be trapped inside to die. The robot helps to fish out the trash that traps creatures.

Wikipedia lists ten locations for Kinetic Sculpture Races. Ours has been going for 35 years. Will someone forge a new vehicle that we start using daily? I hope so.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: forge.

Not blonde?

Ok, wait, green hair?

Also not blonde. This is the Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Sculpture Race. The fabulous parade and bribing of judges was Saturday morning, when I took these photographs. The costumes are wonderful. After the parade comes the brake test and the water portion of the race. The Kween was there and the Unexpected Brass Band. Then Sunday is the hilly portion and mud bog. The sculptures are all human powered.

Oh, look, blonde.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: blonde.

Sol Duc and the spike

Here is our young spike with Sol Duc. She is very interested in the deer.

He was interested too, but was also thinking about chasing her. Sol Duc prudently declined to go any closer. He turned away and followed the does, while I retrieved Sol Duc and took her inside. Whew!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: spike.

An ideal death

Death is quotidian, isn’t it?

There is a movement to make death more ideal. I agree that we should talk more about death and find out what people want, but ideal is complex. The VA did a survey and found three ideal deaths. Which is your ideal?

  1. The Hallmark Death. In hospice, surrounded by family and friends, making peace with everyone, visitors from all over. My mother died of ovarian cancer. We had a hospital bed and a baby monitor and when she was awake, she would say, “I am ready to be entertained.” It lasted for 6 weeks and my grandmothers bones rose out of her face as her weight dropped. I was so tired by the end that I couldn’t see straight. She did not want us to cry, so my sister and I did not cry. Afterwards I wished that I had cried.
  2. No warning, sudden death. Take me, in my sleep, or suddenly, with little or no warning. The heart is the number one cause of death. My father went this way, in his home. I was the one who found him, though I’d expected it for over a year. He was a bit of a hermit and had horrible emphysema, was on oxygen and steroids, but he stayed at home. That’s what he wanted and I did not fight it. It was not much fun finding him.
  3. Fight every step. There are some people who remain full code, who have end stage cancer and want dialysis, who will not give in. My sister was in this category. She was a truly amazing fighter and refused hospice until the last week. This can be about believing that one can continue to hope for a miracle or it can be about social justice or about a promise to one’s family. Some families have said, if father had been able to access care earlier, he wouldn’t be dying, so he wants everything done. I can understand all of those feelings.

So which would be your ideal? Ideally we would talk to our parents and our children and explore these different ideals. I did that with people in clinic. There are interesting openings. A patient would say, “I don’t want to die of cancer.” I would say, “How do you want to die? What is your ideal?” They would be surprised and I would explain the three different scenarios above. “Put in your order, though we do not have any control.” I would say.

We do not have control. I did prenatal care and deliveries for 19 years and didn’t have control there. I always preferred to intervene as little as possible and only if I had to for mother or baby’s health. Once our surgeon went to take out an appendix and it turned out to be something else, so took three hours. I had called a cesarean section, but had to wait. The baby had a fast heart rate and it rose in those three hours. We finally did the c-section and the baby promptly looked completely fine. I have no idea why the heart rate rose from 140 to 180. We were all hugely relieved. Sometimes the cause was obvious: a short umbilical cord or a cord wrapped four times around the neck, but sometimes the cause is a complete mystery.

I talked to a person yesterday who has a frail 90 year old in their life. They said something about keeping them from dying. I said, “Well, they are going to die eventually.” Then I thought, I wonder if they have had the discussion: what is your ideal? Do everything, which may mean being in a hospital? Hospice? At home? And I sometimes see families fight, because siblings have different ideals and may not even be aware of it.

Blessings.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: quotidian.

I took the photograph of the neighbor’s flowers while I was walking the cats in the dark. I like it.

Work dream

Last night I dream that I am back at work.

I get called to do an emergency surgery. I am a Family Practice Physician. I assisted in surgery, C-sections, and did minor repairs of lacerations (yeah, we don’t use small words like cut) and biopsy of skin lesions (lumps, right?). In the dream I do the surgery, but it worries me. I am not a surgeon. I talk to Dr. L. afterwards. He is a surgeon and has worked here for longer than me, and I’ve been here for 23 years. We get along well.

“I shouldn’t be in the surgical call schedule.” I say.

“Don’t you have the certificate for appendectomies?” he says. Now, that isn’t really a thing. My brain made it up.

“No.” I say.

“Oh.” he says. “I thought you did. Great job on that surgery. We need you.”

“But I am not a surgeon, I would need more training.” I say.

“Oh, we’ll figure it out.” he says. I am worried that I’ll be called for an appendectomy. Or something way worse.

I wake up with a very stiff neck. It has relaxed now, but clearly some part of me is not totally on board with work. I need to be careful what I am getting in to. I am not sure, what if I get pneumonia number five? We are short on physicians though. I can argue with myself very easily. Ok, ok, says the part of me that really wants to return to work: we won’t do appendectomies.

The head of our Legion says that some of his people wish I were working again. I really got along well with my veterans and liked them almost always. They could be really gruff and growly and I would growl back. Then they’d be cheerful. Another person at an outside dance said he missed visits with me and appreciated the time I took. Last night a third person asks how they will know if I start a Long Covid clinic. They have two friends who may have it.

I don’t know. I am mostly absent from medicine right now, but still doing my continuing medical education. I have about 30 hours on Long Covid now, which means I have a lot of strategies to improve things but I can’t cure it. May the research will get there eventually. I am maintaining all of the certifications: medical license, board certification, DEA, membership in the American Academy of Family Medicine. But I also listen to dreams.

For the RDP: absent.