Weak Ends?

This past week was not a good one. The spouse's bypass was pushed back a week, to January 2, giving us one more week in which to feel nervous, even scared. I had asked Spouse if he wanted to scale back on Christmas things--fewer cards, for example. He wants this to be as normal a Christmas as possible. He did put the artificial tree together, but I ended doing all the decorating as he snored on the coach. He fell asleep while watching a program on Nazi death camps; I was afraid turning it off or changing the channel might wake him. Needless to say, I had some resentful moments when I wasn't enjoying the memories brought back by the various ornaments. The glitter-covered mink skull from my biologist cousin, for example, or some of the ornaments I made with Older Son, then two, while in the Netherlands and pregnant with Younger Son. Resentment aside, the tree looks great especially with the addition of Christmas Ape. I don't remember how many years ago it was that Older Son wanted a stuffed ape to top the tree. The ape was a two-way toy and could be turned inside out to be a stuffed globe. The zipper broke, giving a perfect slit in the back by which the ape could top the tree. The star that we used to put on top is now the ape's crown. 

The tree decorating is an example of the fine line Spouse and I have been walking. He wants to take care of me given my long COVID and back pain; I want to take things off his plate to keep things as low-key as possible given his upcoming surgery. We have stepped on each other's toes more than once doing this. I did raise the subject for a brief conversation. We're both trying to do better. 

I have made a start at Christmas cards and at wrapping the presents that were already here. Both activities wear me out thanks to the long COVID that is about to celebrate its second birthday. Some of the cards may arrive after Christmas. I just have to have them all sent before Spouse's surgery. I normally give local friends a holiday gift bag with homemade bread, small jams, and single-pot coffee samplers. One year I also included homemade granola. Last year, I also included homemade cookies. I went back and forth on doing them this year. I finally decided on just cookies. I just didn't remember that I have a bad back, and standing up and moving around the kitchen for much of the day only made bad worse. At least I wasn't standing and kneading bread. 

I had a follow-up with the doctor treating my back. He is not happy with how weak my hips are. I've started to add some hip things to the physical therapy exercises I do most mornings. I've also added some balance exercises since I lose mine easily when as tired as I am most days. While my first pain management test did nothing, the doc has referred me for another specific one. It's similar to the epidural I had while delivering Older Son. He also suggested that, despite how much I have spoken out about not wanting surgery, I see a surgeon for an info visit. He recommended someone he said viewed surgery as a last resort and could give me information I might need if the pain management treatments continue to be fruitless. While I can control most of the pain with over-the-counter nsaids, the amount I need to take is well over the "more than this is not good" dosage. Two doctors have told me I am risking going past the stage 2 chronic kidney disease I managed to develop, possibly from the nsaid doses I have taken over the years for shoulder and knee issues. 

While typing the first paragraph, I opened Amazon Music and started to play Josh Groban's Noel album. It's helping me feel the Christmas spirit a bit more. I need to remember that in the days to come. I want to feel Christmas more than the concern bordering on fear over Spouse's health not to mention my own. All will be well....

On Being Memorable

Spouse and I went to a memorial service yesterday. The person being remembered, Bob, was the father of a very good friend. We had met him and played games such as Cards against Humanity and Florida Man with him. We loved seeing him deliver an answer that made his daughter blush. She didn't know he had it in him. He was a memorable man on both the personal and the career levels. Speakers at the service included each of his four children, one of his grandchildren, and various friends from both of those personal and career worlds. Memories of various people who could not attend in personal were read. As people talked, images of him in various years and places played on a screen on the stage.

As the speakers delivered their assorted memories or even goodbyes, I found myself wondering what would happen with my death. I have no idea if Bob wanted a funeral or memorial service. My father did not want any sort of funeral or memorial service. He'd even written his own obituary, in which he lied but that's material for another post some day. His widow, my stepmother, held a memorial service anyway, as a way for his friends and neighbors to say goodbye. My mother wanted no acknowledgement of her passing, but I wrote a (factual) obituary that ran for one day in the local paper. I haven't been haunted by Mom's ghost, so I figure the obit was okay with her. 

Spouse and I have left no guidance for how our sons handle our deaths. What they do is up to them. We have pre-paid cremation plans to make things easier for them. My mother had done this and it made things so much easier for me. We have not reserved space in a columbarium or mausoleum for our cremains. I keep my mother's ashes under a table in my living room. The cremains themselves are in a wooden urn which sits in the fancy white box the funeral and cremation service provided. My brother and I along with our stepmother took Dad's ashes to Montana and anonymously--and possibly illegally now that I think about it--scattered them at one of his favorite duck hunting spots. Spouse and I can decide how to handle each other's cremains or the kids can do it for both of us. 

If the kids were to have a memorial service, would people come or send in memories of each of us or either of us? I expect that more people would come or contribute to Spouse's service than would to mine. He, after all, has had a career, something I never really had. People would acknowledge his passing on both a personal and professional level. And what memories worth sharing would people have of me? I can think of some noteworthy things I have done or have happened to me, but in many cases only a couple of people know what happened. The time I told a police officer that I wanted him to charge me with a driving offense? When I got four stitches in my chin by an animal doctor rather than one who treats humans, stitches removed by someone trained as a vet tech? Maybe I should write my own obituary and mention those. The idea intrigues me. I'll let you know if I really get around to writing my own obituary; I promise I tell the truth, possibly not the whole truth but nothing but the truth.

Matters of the Heart

Spouse and I met with a cardiac surgeon the day before yesterday. We came out of a two-hour meeting with Spouse set for a double, possibly triple, bypass on December 26. We came home with a bag of supplies he can learn to use now along with a notebook of all the relevant info as well as various numbers to call with questions. It made me wonder about a similar appointment in which someone is told they have cancer. I'm assuming that one would not leave that meeting knowing exactly what is coming. While I have no idea how the bypass will go, there is a closure to the "data collection" phase. We assembled the information and suggestions and made a decision. 

I am now trying to convince myself that I can get Spouse, and myself, through all this. I am making lists, some mental and others on paper. I have started freezing meals; I made more spaghetti than usual last night, and now have two meals in the freezer. We typically get take-out on Fridays; tomorrow, I will order an extra entree or two to pop into the freezer. I expressed concern to the kids that Spouse might have a hard time getting into and out of the back seat of my Honda Element. It looks as if we will temporarily trade Spouse's pick-up for a Mazda our younger son does not use that often. Since said son and daughter-in-law are slowly moving things into their new house, the pick-up will be useful. We can evaluate the Element and the Mazda and see which is better for Spouse. He'll be riding in the back seat for a while, to avoid what would happen should an airbag hit him in the chest. 

I went to the pain management clinic yesterday. They did some injections in my lower back and sent me home with a log in which I report my pain level over two days. Sad to say, I haven't really noticed a decrease in pain. I go back in two weeks for another such test. If nothing they try helps, I shall move on to other possibilities. My brother told me I was handling this much more calmly than he expected. I told him that I have pain. I at least know what it's from. I also know some things I can do to help it hurt less or at least not hurt more. I try not to sleep on my back, for example. That makes the pain much more severe to the point that I cannot walk without using some form of help. No help? Hello, floor! Whatever calm there is comes from knowing that there's nothing I can do on my own to make things better. I also know that I did not to whatever caused this. My back did not start hurting because I asked someone to hold my beer. 

We are not putting up the porch Christmas lights this year. I normally give friends what I call "breakfast in a bag," bags with a loaf of homemade bread, small jars of jam, small (single-pot) bags of coffee, and something else made by me. One year, that was granola; last year, cookies. I don't have what it takes to do all that this year. For about 24 hours, I thought I would just do cookies this year. Honestly, I don't think I can handle that either. We will send out fewer Christmas cards, and I doubt there will be the newsy recap of the year. 2024 has been too rough a year here. The letter would likely report that seeing April's total solar eclipse with dear friends was the high point of the year, while the rest of the year in comparison sucked. Not the sort of letter I would enjoy getting from someone.

A New Year Approaches

Not wanting to pay the increased fee for having a website I did not update nearly enough, I let Weebly/Square un-publish it. I'll try to do more here but that, as so many things these days are, may or may not come to pass. 2024 has been that kind of year with surprises all around. Long COVID led to my seeing a sports medicine and rehab doc who started me on a walking program and some related physical therapy out of which it was discovered that I have anterolisthesis (my L4 vertebra is sliding forward relative to my L5 one) and stenosis, a narrowing of the spinal column. For almost six months, I have been battling pain from the stenosis including one ambulance ride to and morning in the emergency room when the pain was so bad I could not stand up. I'm headed to the Pain Management Center Wednesday to see if they can offer some relief. 

At the same time, Spouse admitted to having some minor (he said) chest pains when working out after which the family doctor sent him for a stress test. The results of the stress test sent him for a possible cardiac catheterization and placement of a stent. The result of that procedure was discovering that there multiple blockages around the heart, one of which is in the left anterior descending artery otherwise known as the "Widowmaker." He had two follow-up exams after he came back from the cath, and will have three more tomorrow, after which we meet with a surgeon to discuss further options. I'm imagining that they will suggest a bypass, but we shall see. We have a second meeting with the surgeon on Tuesday, though I'm not totally sure why Spouse is scheduled for visits with the same doctor on two consecutive days.

On the brighter side, we managed to make it to Maine for the total solar eclipse in April. I required a wheel chair to get through airports. I tried walking on my own, but the jetway leaving the first flight bitch-slapped me and I admitted defeat. The eclipse was great; even greater was seeing it with dear friends we hope to see more of after Spouse retires. That is right now planned for May 31, 2025. He is supposed to teach one more class in the spring, but the prospect of cardiac surgery may suggest otherwise. We hope to do more travelling once he's officially retired, starting with a 15-day Viking river cruise from Amsterdam to Budapest followed by three days in Prague. 

The Maine trip also gave us the chance to visit the Duck of Justice in the Bangor Police Department lobby. If you're on Facebook, you can look that up. That's my brother Jon in the background. He lives in Bangor, so the trip also gave us a chance to see him. 

Well, this has been pretty painless, so I hope I get back to writing more regularly. The next couple of days, though, are dedicated to seeing how the rest of the year might come to pass medically.

Another Year Down

I can't believe I went a year and a day without writing anything here. Actually, I can believe it. There are a lot of things I didn't do in the last year that I wish had been possible. I'm not going to start a list, because the list would be too long and it would depress me even more than long COVID alone does. 

I didn't make any resolutions for 2024, so there's no progress for me to check in on. Most days I float through somehow, accomplishing nothing. While I am no longer taking non-trivial morning and afternoon naps, I still need at least one or I am essentially useless the next day. I read the paper on and off. Look at social media. Occasionally write emails. Lately, I've actually been able to read for more than 15 minutes before I can no longer focus, so I've actually finished some books. I did start taking walks again, under the guidance of a physical medicine and rehabilitation doctor. That more than anything else has helped lift the major depressive disorder I was feeling. The doc also had me going to physical therapy. One's balance takes a hit after sitting or lying down for a whole year. 

Between the walking and the physical therapy, the slight lower back ache I had had on and off turned all the way on. Some days I had trouble walking without pain. The physical therapist thought it might be due to the scoliosis she said I had. The doctor thought that if I got my hips stronger, that would take care of the pain. After he had me lie on my back and be unable to lift my left leg due to pain, he sent me for x-rays. The good news is that they showed what the cause of the back pain is. The bad news is that it's not clear what can be done about it, though more information coming out of an MRI on July 19 should shed more light on that. 

It's called anterolisthesis. My L4 vertebra is sliding forward on my L5 vertebra. The sliding is somewhere between 25 and 50 percent, meaning it's Level 2. Level 1 is better; Level 4 is not. This may be something my mother had. At one point, she had a rod put in her back to hold her back straight. That's one of the last-resort treatments for anterolisthesis that I refuse to think about until after then MRI results are in and explained to me. 

So, this has been an enlightening post, hasn't it? Let me finish with the horoscope from The Washington Post that tells of the year ahead for someone born on July 1.

You are adventurous, imaginative and impulsive. You have an excellent memory. This is a year of learning and teaching. You might take time to renew your spiritual or religious beliefs. Explore philosophies that will give you a better self-awareness and understanding of the true meaning of your life.

 I'm not at all sure how to interpret all that. I do not, for example, feel very adventurous, imaginative, or impulsive. I'm too tired for any of that. And what is the true meaning of my life? A friend told me I did not seem upset enough about the anterolisthesis on top of the long COVID. Without really thinking, I told her I had both so other people did not to have either. The fates could have given two people one thing each. By giving me two, at least one other person has stayed healthy. Gotta laugh because the alternative doesn't accomplish anything. 

I'll try to get back here before another year passes, not that anyone has asked where I was this year. And for what it's worth, I'm now 68. Sixty-seven could have been worse, but at least it was a prime number.I don't have another prime age until 71.

Halfway to 2024 Already

I should wait until Saturday to post this because then I could comment on its being six months between posts. Normally, I use my birthday post to report on how I'm doing with the resolutions I made six months ago. That's easy this year since I never made any. The Christmas cards never got mailed either. It's been a rough seven months. I'll still post whatever horoscope has a special forecast for people born on July 1.

Long COVID continues. My condition has improved somewhat from six months ago if only napping once daily rather than twice is a sign of improvement. While it is nice to be able to do something--anything--in the mornings, I have on more than one occasion done enough that I feel it the next day. Today is one of those days. I am trying to get the binding done on what is now a quilt I should have given to the intended recipient 26 years ago. Without the long COVID, it would have been finished and presented in January. Now, I hope to present it in July if I don't overdo it as I did yesterday.

Apart from the last six months, the last two have been compounded by the death of my mother in early May. I thank the deities that I saw her the day before she passed and that it was one of our better get-togethers. As I walked out the door, we were both laughing. Last year, my brother came to visit for Mother's Day; this year, that would have been too late. He went home two weeks before Mom died. I wonder if that helped her release herself from her body in this life. I remain convinced that she knew she was going to pass. At our last meeting, she asked me what I might want of the various things she had hanging on the walls. She said that one thing, something I did not want, really appealed to one of the aides, and she wanted that aide to have it. The aides told me that the day before she passed she'd been in a particularly jovial mood; the next day, they said, she had left that mood behind and asked to be helped into bed at lunchtime. On every other day, she only got into bed when it was time to sleep. I made sure that each got what she wanted.

Mom did not want a memorial service or funeral, nor did she want an obituary. I honored her wishes on the former, but did write a short obituary. I also let faraway friends know of her death. Many days in the past two months, the activity du jour has been dealing with some aspect of her estate. Her estate was larger than anticipated, and I need to go through the probate process. Advice to anyone thinking of their demise: Make your bank accounts "payable upon death" to your beneficiary(ies). If Mom had done that, there would have been no need for probate.

Because Mom's estate was larger than anticipated, we have been able to make some gifts to the kids. I'm also going to upgrade my plus-25-years-old sewing machine. Then I think I'll let things sit for a while while I regroup and try to recover as much as I might be able to. I just started reading The Long COVID Survival Guide: How to Take Care of Yourself and What Comes Next--Stories and Advice from Twenty Long-Haulers and Experts. I don't know that it will make anything better, but it will help remind me that I am not alone in this and that in comparison to many, many other people, my case is a mild one. Even so, writing this after doing some work on the quilt guild's website has left me somewhat drained and thinking of a morning nap.

The Road into 2023

Fortunately, I stopped the daily pandemic blog when I did. Remember the couple of times I said I was afraid of long COVID were I to get COVID? That apparently happened. Fatigue just kept growing. The first thing I noticed was that going up stairs was noticeably harder. I then realized that I was only making it through each day by ingesting over a gram of caffeine between coffee and caffeinated gum. Besides telling me to cut down on caffeine, my doctor ordered several types of blood work. When all the various tests came back normal, the diagnosis by exclusion pointed to long COVID. Doctor's orders were to stop doing all the things I'd been doing even if they had seemed fairly easy. This may be the year of no Christmas cards. This may also be the year of no resolutions, at least for now. I don't think "get my energy back" counts as a resolution, but that would be the big thing I'd be hoping for for 2023. 

Happy New Year to all, and to all however late a night you want. Mine will be an early one.