Thursday, August 1, 2019

            Just a busy, busy day.  In the morning, I had Bikram, then raced home to shower and make it to my 11 am chiropractic appointment.  I had time between that appointment and my 1:30 dental appointment.  I dropped off some unused items at Petco in their donation box.  It was then next door to Office Max to Xerox papers regarding the Will and information on what to do if I become incapacitated or die.  

            Damon is the primary executor with Karin as his backup. I will send the original signed sheets of the Will to Damon with copies to Karin, so she would know who and what to ask for if Damon was no longer available.  Both Damon and Karin have electronic copies of the Will.  All they need are the original signed copies to activate the trust.  

            Besides those papers, two promissory notes will still be due after my death (unless I live to 108), information on my Long-Term Health Care Insurance, and information on an Annuity that is not with Raymond James.  Besides that, I included information on agencies to call upon my death to stop payments: Social Security, New Jersey Pension and Benefits, and The State Teachers Retirement System of Ohio. 

            I still had time before the dental appointment, and I was able to stop off at Habitat for Humanity to drop off some donations. There will be lots more where that came from.

            Yvette came up to check on Elsa.  She was already doing much better but not chasing balls yet.  When Yvette went to rub her belly, she saw that her abdomen was all black and blue with one spot blood-red although the skin wasn’t broken — seeing that sent chills up and down my spine.  I realized that while they didn’t mean to kill her if they had continued tossing her about as they were, they would have. 

             I have thanked Marsha repeatedly for rushing into the fray to help me rescue Elsa. She said she had no choice.  I told her, “There’s always a choice.”  She could have gone into her house to call the police. By the time they arrived, Elsa would have been dead.  Every time I think of it, I get an adrenaline surge.  

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Musings:  I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

 

            Brooks talks about giving our all for a purpose outside or bigger than ourselves gives meaning to our lives.  Giving our all for any purpose is energizing and wonderful.  We’re not designed to sit around and run on idle all the time. That’s for unused machinery.  When we treat ourselves like that, feel useless and get depressed.  

            But does this drive lead to moral behavior?  No guarantees.  A devoted football fan is prepared to display his painted body in the middle of winter to support his team.  While this act may undoubtedly be considered a sacrifice for a cause outside of himself, can we consider it a higher moral act?

            A member of the KKK filled with righteous indignation involved with hunting down and killing a member of a minority group gets that feeling.  He or she is involved in something larger than himself or herself.  He or she is running on full throttle.  He or she loses himself or herself in this activity.  He or she feels great. Does this make it moral? 

            I feel Brooks too often refers to the feelings involved with giving your all and equating it with something good.  I wish there were an easy formula for determining what is moral.  In the past, even in the relatively recent past, we lived in smaller and more homogenous groups that laid out rules for behavior that everyone in the group was expected to conform to.  Not that everyone did; I doubt that has ever happened.  Today we don’t live that way. Moral relativity is the active mode.  There are no ‘shoulds’ anymore. 

            For some, the absence of ‘shoulds’ means the absence of any restrictions on their behavior.   These folks lack moral imagination.   Unfortunately, many don’t think there is a need for any ethical considerations.  The goal is pleasing oneself, and that’s it. Now that sounds like an uncomfortably empty existence.  

            These folks deny the human condition. We’re social animals, and we are designed to help each other survive.  If we fail to do something that forwards this cause, there are consequences, not from the world around us (unless we have actually broken the law) but from within us.  We are born with a need to participate in a grand design. 

            I think many people fulfill this need by having children. Others are called to other ways of contributing.  There may not be one way; we each have to find our way.  If we don’t look for it and find it, we are lost souls.

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

 

                        Oh, boy. Did we have fun yesterday?  When I took Elsa for her evening walk, she got away from me and slipped through the small opening in my neighbor's driveway gate. I wasn't immediately concerned. I believed that Elsa wanted to play with the four large dogs on that property, and they wanted to play with her.  Well, I was right, but not quite as I expected.  The four dogs formed a pack and 'played' with Elsa as if she were a stuffed animal.  Fortunately, my neighbor Marsha was with me.  We had been talking just before this happened.  I was able to open the gate, and Marsha and I ran in screaming at the four dogs who were nipping at Elsa and rolling her around.  

            Marsha was able to get hold of the collars of two of the dogs, and I was able to drag Elsa to the safety of the other side of the electronic fence.  Marsha came home with me. We washed Elsa and cleaned her wounds with hydrogen peroxide.  I called Yvette, and she came up to see what she could do.  On her recommendation, I called the emergency number of the vet. I told them her wounds didn't look bad, and she had accepted a treat.  Yvette checked how to determine if a dog was in shock on the Internet. We decided that while she was unnerved, she was not in shock. 

            Elsa asked to go for a walk before bedtime, which she never does. I was so proud of her.  I thought I would never get her to walk in the street again. She was so brave. We went to bed when we got back.  She couldn't get up on the bed herself, even using the doggie stairs at the bed's foot.  She curled up with me or slept on Mike's side of the bed.  At one point during the night, I noticed that she was swaying while she stood.  Oh, Oh. It was clear I wasn't going to Bikram in the morning. NO way was I going to leave her. 

            I got up shortly before 7 — no need to get up early; no Bikram.  I walked her; she didn't pee again. This was scary. Why hadn't she peed in 24 hours?  I checked the vet hours; they opened at 8 am.  I called Yvette to tell her Elsa wasn't doing well, and I was going to the vet. She asked me if I wanted her to go with me.  Absolutely. I had already decided I would leave a 7:30 am to assure a visit with the doctor. 

            We got to the vet around 7:40; they let us in at7:45.  A vet tech took her temperature-normal, yeah!  She took her to the presurgery room and shaved the spots where she had been bitten. The bites were mostly surface bites. While Marsha and I thought the four dogs were trying to kill Elsa, it is clear that it was never their intent. They could easily have torn her to pieces in the first few seconds.  They didn't. 

            The doctor came in right around 8.  He checked her wounds.  He explained that it is easy to rip the surface skin from the underlying tissue on dogs because their skin is so loose.  When that happens, the separated skin hurts.  The doctor said it was unlikely that there were internal injuries. She had gotten off easy.  He prescribed antibiotics and a pain killer. 

            When we got home, I gave her the pills. Then Elsa and I lay down together.  I was committed to spending the day in the house doing nothing except attending to her. The pain killer must have kicked in because she ate and drank- and begged for a treat, and ate it. 

            Oh, boy.  If I had lost her too after losing Mike -oh, boy, what else can I say?

            I had a telephone appointment with my therapist. I worked on my grief.  Betrayal came up.  I felt betrayed because Mike left me.  Now, let's be clear; this is not what my conscious mind thinks.  There is no way I think that Mike betrayed me by dying.  He did everything he could do to survive.  He hung on longer than any human being should have had to, given how much he was suffering.   Fortunately, I am now working with a therapist who understands when I say something like that,  I am referring to what my nonconscious, primitive body/brain thinks.  In the past, when I said something like that to a therapist, they would argue with me. When I told them that part of my mind felt that way, they would tell me that I was out of touch with reality.  I put it down now to a clear difference in our understanding of the human mind.  For me, there are various parts, and each has its own thoughts.  Getting all the parts to communicate with each other and work out the best solution under the guidance of the forebrain is my idea of mental health.

            Now, I don't remember the full sequence. Maybe it will come back as I describe what followed.  I was sitting with the physical feeling of having been abandoned. I remember thinking, "Why did you leave me? I loved you."  "Why did you leave me? Wasn't I good enough? Was there something wrong with me?" I am sure these are not uncommon questions on the part of those left behind.  Being abandoned by someone who is committed to watching out for you is a big, big loss.

            I theorize that in the hunter-gatherer days, everyone watched out for everyone else.  It wasn't reduced to just a buddy system like it is now when our life partners are the only ones who check on us daily, if not hourly.  For the primitive groups, every group member is significant because their survival was dependent on every other member of the group. This is comparable to what a group of soldiers in combat experience.  They don't watch out for just one person, even if that person is their best buddy. They watch out for everyone because they are counting on everyone watching out for them. While I understand that I am not alone by contemporary standards,  my body-brain experiences me as totally alone in a dangerous environment.  It is scared for my very survival.  This is an appropriate reaction for this part of my brain. My way of dealing with this disparity between historical circumstances and the current ones is to communicate to my body-brain that I am not in that order of danger.  It can be done.  It is sometimes done through hypnosis, but it can be done more easily with the forebrain directly communicating with the hind one.

           As I worked, I could feel the energy draining from me.  It was draining from my just under my heart down my abdomen and exiting my body just above the pubic bone.   I felt like I was expelling something.  The birthing process came to mind.  I felt like I was 'giving birth' to Mike, ejecting him from my body to be a separate person so I could go on with my life, and he could go one his death.

           The process of giving birth releases the baby from the mother to live its own life.  Likewise, expelling Mike was releasing him to 'live' his own death.  If I didn't do this, I would be holding on to him.  I was releasing him from taking care of me.   I realized his concern was for himself.  I thought my holding on to him in my body was preventing him from moving on.  It reminded me of what some families do who cannot face the prospect of choosing to take their loved ones off life-support. When I was in the hospital on Oahu, I was told there were several patients in this position, people who were being kept alive with extreme measures for years.  OMG!  However, difficult and scary it was to decide to take him off life support and let him go, I would never have done that to Mike.  Now, I think I must also give up on hoping he will be someone in my physical life. 

             I am reminded of what C.S. Lewis said in a Grief Observed, that this change, the death of the partner, creates a new phase of the marriage.  We would have had to negotiate a different relationship if he had lived.  He would have been much weakened by his months in the hospital. That would have been different from what we had before. We would have had to make adjustments then.  These are a different set of adjustments.  I don't know if I will have to let go altogether. We'll see.  I want what's best for him, whatever it is.  I trust completely that what is best for him will be best for me.  

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

            In the book review section in the NY Times, I came across a description of a moment in a happy marriage. "The couple stood together, crotch to crotch and talked about weeding." (It's not an exact quote.) Boy, does that sum up something about the intimacy between a happy couple. With whom else can I do a hug without worrying about which parts of our bodies come together?  With Mike, it was just comfortable, joyful, so satisfying.   Those intimate moments which occurred while the ordinary business of life went on.  I miss him. 

            

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

            I felt choked up this morning. My throat is getting tighter. It's getting a little more difficult.  

            When I got on the scale this morning, my weight, which has been stable as the rock of Gibraltar, dropped to a lower number than ever. Huh?  I haven't been eating that much, and I haven't been losing weight.  I ate one good-sized meal, and the weight dropped like a broken elevator.  When I told Paulette about it, she knew what had happened.

            She did Weight Watchers.  Clients are allowed so many points a day.  When her weight stayed the same over a long time despite following the diet, the counselor told her to eat the maximum number of points possible for a single day. Then her body responded by dropping the weight.  Neat trick. 

            During Bikram, Heather stood over me and examined the straightness of my spine.  She indicated that I had to shift my head, so my chin moved over to the left.  I had a hairdresser pointed this out to me once. She was having trouble sizing up my hair because my head was on tilt. I have paid attention to it periodically, but now I'm ready to pay attention to it 24/7 since I've felt the shift's impact on my neck and back.

            I stopped off at the UPS store to drop off the return package to Amazon, that book by Brooks, that I got two copies of by accident.

            I had an appointment to speak to an old friend this morning. It's easier to make actual appointments with folks living in the Eastern Standard Time Zone. We talked for about an hour, updating each other on our lives and the lives of the people in our families.  Her husband was Mike's best friend through elementary school through high school.  They kept in touch for a while, lost touch, and renewed their relationship when they were in their forties.  

            I trimmed Elsa's face. I hate the way the Petco groomer does it.  The hair is too long the day it's cut. I trim it and then forget to tell them to make her hair shorter when I have the next appointment.  It started raining while I was cutting her hair. It was a little rainfall and Irish shower.  When I was finished, I finally went out to trim my hibiscus shrubs.

            I noticed that my plants had pimples the other day.  I took a sample to church to show Margo, who runs Sunrise nursery. She said, "Blister mites. Get Avid. It's costly but solves the problem. Get it from Farm and Garden." I stopped off there on Monday on my way home from yoga.  The Avid isn't just expensive, it's outrageously expensive. $110 for a small container.  Bill asked me how many plants I had to treat. I said, "2." He said no. Avid doesn't make sense. Use Sulfur Dust.  You will have to apply it more than once after trimming off all the affected leaves. Sulfur dust only costs $10.47 and isn't as bad for the ground. 

            I suspect our gardeners realized that the plant had this blight before.  They dealt with it by trimming it back sharply.  I can tell because I can see how one of the plants grew back, a lot of sprouting branches. It's not the best look for a hibiscus, but it's good enough.  The oldest plant is thoroughly infected. The second one less so. The third one has a small plant and has only a few affected leaves.  I went at the two plants and trimmed them back, throwing the cut branches on the driveway.  I found this great tool at Ace Hardware the other day.  I think it is called a Ratchet. It's a little hand tool, and it is incredible. It makes cutting branches of all sizes easy.  I cut back one of the shrubs completely, ridding it of every infected leaf. I was working on the second one when the rain came pouring down instead of the steady drizzle I had been working in.  It was time for me to go inside and take a shower. 

            Scott stopped by and talked about a design for the bathroom I want to install in Mike's library area.  There is an alcove off the library area where Mike had four four-drawer filing cabinets. They fit perfectly.  The area was originally a closet off a two-car garage.  The two-car garage became Mike's library.  Yes, it's that large. Remember, it contains over 3700 books, a desk,  a large two-seater reclining chair set,  a large stuffed chair, a large cassock which can be used for storage, a stationary bike, and a Pilates machine.  It all has to go if I am to make that room into another bedroom I can rent. 

            The nook isn't very large. A sink and a toilet can be fit into it easily.  I want to place the shower outside the house with access from the inside and the outside.  We have four-foot overhangs on our homes here. They protect us both from the sun and torrential downpours.  I plan to fit the shower under that overhang. I want to put in a skylight.  These changes will make the shower as close to an outdoor shower as an enclosed shower can be.

            Not knowing much about construction, I thought I could put drywall right over the bookcases.  Scott tells me that they're easy to remove.  Now I am looking at a whole different set of possibilities.  Scott wants to use some of the wood from the bookcases to make a Murphy bed for Yvette in her yoga room. That way, she can put up guests comfortably downstairs. Up to now, if comfort was a requirement, her guests have stayed up here with Mike and me. 

            Today the emails from John Coughlin came pouring in, which he forwarded from the librarian from Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans.  The librarian didn't sound like he would be interested in many of Mike's books, assuming he already had everything that could be n Mike's library. The order list includes something like 150 of them.   

            I'm not quite ready to start filling his request list. I want to get the library in order and take pictures of it in its original form so we can all remember Mike's dream and how it became a reality.  I am so glad he got what he wanted.  It made him so happy.  I loved making him happy. 

 

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

 

            One of the great things about retirement is that there are no deadlines; one of the bad things about retirement is that there are no deadlines.

Monday, July 29,2019

 

            When I got up this morning, something else was out of place. Mike's towel rack with his used towel on it was shifted in an odd position. Nothing subtle.  Anyone who thinks it was Elsa, no way.  A) I throw balls for her while I'm in the bathroom, bouncing them off the walls. They often wind up between the wall and the base of the towel rack. She steps over it carefully. B) she weighs 14 lbs.  She doesn't have the strength or the heft to move that towel rack.  For some reason, Mike is upset. 

            The poltergeist incidents started after I had that dream that he told me he left me for another woman.  God, I wish he'd stop worrying about me.  That makes me worry about him. I want him to be at peace. I want him to be happy. 

            I had plenty of time to make an east coast call this morning before I left for Bikram.  Kathrin had done the dishes last night, and I had my breakfast smoothie made already.  I called Workmen's Circle to determine if a Life Insurance Policy I found among his paperwork was valid. Surprise! Of course, not.  I didn't think so but thought I'd better check before throwing the paper work out. 

            After Bikram, I went to the transfer station to drop off another large bag of paper from Mike's collection of paper and some cardboard.  I loaded the car with the wicker basket Mike used to carry his books to Bible study with things I had to mail or drop off as donations.  

            I saw a young couple gently touching each other in obvious affection. It's a little hard watching the two be loving with each other when I lost my loving partner. Anyone remember the King and I's song, "Hello, young lovers, where ever you are. I hope your troubles are few. All my good wishes go with you tonight. I've been in love like you?" I take pleasure watching them, but there is also some sadness mixed in for me.

            When I got home, I did some work on the blog as I drank my morning Juice Plus smoothie.  Dorothy and Karin called on FaceTime, and Jean called while I was on the phone with them. I sent her to voice mail.  When I got off the phone, I saw it was already after 11 am.  I had a noon appointment with the grief counselor from the Hospice Center.  I didn't even have time to shower — that good rinse off I took after Bikram was going to have to do.

            The woman I was meeting with had given me the address, but I got somewhat tangled in my mind.  Unfortunately, I had several maps in my head. Many of them were incorrect. The office is on Mamaloha Highway. The address prefix was 76 as my address prefix is 73.  (Explaining the address system here is a whole other blog entry.)  That prefix told me that the location was south of me. 

            Mamalahoa Highway is the upper highway as Queen K is the lower highway.  I used to think that Mamalahoa continued down into Kailua Kona.  I recently found out that is not the case; it veers off in the middle of the road down the mountain. The roadway becomes Palani Street, which continues down into town.  So I wound up thinking that I could get to Mamalahoa Highway by going down Queen K.  

            I couldn't get my GPS to work.  I finally pulled over to call the counselor. She said, "Oh, dear." She gave me directions. Continue south on Queen K, and make a left on Lako. When you hit a dead-end, make a right. When you hit the second dead end, make a left. We're about half a mile down the road on the left."  

            I made my turn onto Lako correctly. Yeah. When I got to the dead end, I made a left. Oh, well.  It was a lovely drive. We're in the rainy season, and it rains more the higher you go.  It was a dense jungle with great ocean views as I went down this precariously curvy road.  I finally realized something was wrong and pulled over.

            I pulled over into the edge of a driveway. I had to get out of the road to make that call.  No way anyone in their right mind would sit on that curvy, narrow road to make a call.  It said, "Private Property, No Trespassing." Yeah, I wasn't going to go on their property, just to the edge of their driveway.  The house was a good tenth of a mile away down a road running parallel to the main road.  I made the call, pulled out, and saw a man come running from the house toward me. I waited.  His voice was controlled, but he was shaking with rage. Did I see the sign saying no Trespassing? Yes.  Did I realize I had run over one of his signs?  No, I'm so sorry. He had the signs up because he has a dangerous dog, and it was for my protection. Did he see I didn't get out of my car and was driving away? No danger from the dog I could see.  I was genuinely sorry I ran over his sign, Did I really?  (One of my under five mph accidents.)  I was prepared to pay for the sign. I was afraid he was going to call the cops. Another adventure.  He let me go without charging me for the sign or calling the cops.  I had made a left at the dead-end at the top of Lako instead of a right. Back up the lovely road. No loss there. I finally arrived at the Hospice center.

            Susan, the counselor, interviewed me.  I talked for a least an hour telling her some of the stories from our 5 weeks in the hospital at Oahu.  It has been getting a little harder.  My throat is often tight.  She gave me a list of symptoms to expect as I go through the process. 

            At one point, I made some comment about not worrying about my survival.  I could feel the impact on me as I made that statement. Well, let's put it this way. I'm not worried about my survival because of Mike's death. I'm not so sure if any of us will survive what I fear is coming.  But that, again, has nothing to do with Mike's death. 

If what I think is coming comes, I'm glad he's gone. I always anticipate the worst-case scenario ahead of time and did well when a crisis arrived. He maintained the most hopeful viewpoint and then had trouble adjusting when the shit hit the fan.  His optimism resulted in some good decisions for all the times he was right.  My preparedness served us well when the shit hit the fam. We balanced each other. 

Sunday, July 28, 2019

            Adam told me that Uber informed him that our car insurance had expired.  At first, I thought, it's just that we haven't received our new cards.  Then while I was walking Elsa, I thought, "Yikes! Maybe there is a problem with the automatic payment due to all the changes in the accounts".  I called this morning.  The bill was paid on the date due.  I don't know what the problem was.  I sighed in relief, particularly since Kathrin had taken the car to go to Bikram this morning while I stayed home. 

            While I walked Elsa, I applied a movement modification I had used before.  I placed my heel firmly on the ground. Then gluing the heel down, I pull the heel back. Since the heel couldn't move, my hips moved forward.  I have 'discovered' this trick before, but then I forgot it and rediscovered it. This is a movement trick that others can use because it is symmetrical to start with.  Some of the things I do are designed to straighten out my crooked body. However, if someone is flatfooted, it is possible that pulling the heel back, as I described, may hyperextend the knee, which can lead to damage.

            My hope in including this material about movement sequencing and small moves is to encourage others to recognize that they are not stuck with permanent pain. They don't have to rely on strong medication or surgery; there is another option.  Yes, it requires time and attention, but it can be lots of fun for those who are open to it.  Sadly, physical therapists are not trained or were not trained when I saw them in modifying daily movement patterns and changing body mechanics.  Even my chiropractor believes that her repeated adjustments should solve all body problems.  She thinks she makes an adjustment,  and the patient automatically changes the way they move. Good luck!  An adjustment versus the memory of the nervous system built up over years and years and years. Habit is always the winner.  We have to think of making small changes in the way we do things if we are going to overcome the problems our bodies present to us successfully.  It isn't just age.  Age is important because it means we have been doing it wrong longer.  Each time we make a movement, right or wrong, we strengthen the neurological connection.  Each time we make a movement, right or wrong,  we use our bodies correctly or incorrectly.  I figured the body is a fantastic design. If you were born with a healthy body and are having problems now, you've been doing something wrong. Correct it!

            On the other hand, be careful.  Do not follow anyone's instructions without watching what happens in your body.  Discomfort is okay; sharp pain is not.

            I slept most of the day.  Church exhausts me.  I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t connect to the service, I am more aware of Mike’s absence since he would normally be on the altar, or if, as I experienced today, there is energy bearing down on me, more than I can cope with. Or, as I suspect as I’m writing this, I had an upset stomach and needed the rest. We’ll see what it’s like next week. 

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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.

Brooks's idea of good character. Eisenhower and Day.

            I'm reading Brooks's book The Road to Character. He describes the life stories of heroic people who were committed to leading moral lives making significant contributions.   So far, I have read the first two stories about Eisenhower and Dorothy Day.  Unfortunately, the examples he uses are all extreme.  They are extreme because the people he selected rose to great prominence and extreme because at least Eisenhower and Day are people who dealt with intense emotional issues.  What about the rest of us who want to live ordinary lives with peace and commitment? After reading his stories, I am ready to throw in the towel.  If I have to make the extreme choices Eisenhower and Day made, I'll pass. There must be a way to be a small person with an ordinary life and have a profound commitment to live a moral life doing the best for those who we touch as we pass this way.