I noticed Elsa curled up in her extra comfy dog bed made of squishable foam covered by heavy piled soft cloth. I bought it a while ago, hoping it would provide a place for her to shelter and calm herself once the shutdown was over, and I wasn't here 24/7 anymore. This is the first time I've seen her use it.
When I was out for my walk this morning, I ran into the ninety-year-old who takes on the hill on Hiolani for exercise. About a week ago, I saw her coming out of her driveway and learned that she lives in the home with the beehives. Today she told me that her son is the one who maintains these hives and sells the honey. She said it is difficult to maintain beehives in Hawaii because the flowers aren't pollinators. Flowers without pollen? Didn't know that existed—these poor bees.
I completed close to 8,000 steps in my walk. I didn't cover more ground; I changed my stride. Aiming for symmetrical movement, I have been touching the inside of my thigh with my opposite hand as I walk. I touch my left thigh with my right hand and my right thigh with my left hand. This forces my knees to come higher and further forward. I feel that my legs are closer to the same length when I get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
I also have been incorporating the '4-second' exercise routine. I heard about it on Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, as they made fun of this plan. I found the NY Times article explaining the research. No, it's not just one 4-second bout of exercise for the day. It was a 5- four-second bouts separated by 45 seconds of rest in between. They recommended eight sets per day. The point is to get off your ass during the day. Don't just sit till you can feel your cellulite being baked into lumps on the back of your thighs. Keep moving. Doing one intense exercise for the day is not enough.
I'm not following the full prescription. I certainly don't do it eight times a day, but I get more done than nothing. Anything is better than nothing. In the research project, they had the participants, trained athletes, working on a machine. I don't have that at home. What I do is rapid movement in place. Since I can stand, I run and punch the air, directing my punches both straight ahead and across. I look like a little old lady trying to look like she's doing a Mohamed Ali workout. Sometimes I just pound my fists up and down as I do a fast walk in place. Then I looked like a little old white lady throwing a temper tantrum. I do it to the count of forty. I do it until I feel my pulse rate increase. Then I go about my business. For example; I stand up, do my routine, walk to the bathroom, do my routine, do my business on the toilet, stand up, do my routine, walk to the sink and wash my hands, do my routine, walk back to my chair, do my routine, and sit down. I try to mix it into my day as I go about my routine. I actually work it into my morning walk too. Whenever Elsa stops to sniff, I do my routine. It adds up.
Those of you who are not comfortable running in place, just move your arms as you sit. My best guess is getting our pulse rate up periodically is the key.
I'm finally in a deep grief state. I miss Mike's smiles, hugs, and kisses so much. My whole body pounds with my grief. How long will this last? I assume I will adjust to the new reality eventually and find other ways to cope. I invested forty-five years into that relationship, and now it's gone. I made a crack to a friend, "What a waste of forty-five years!" That is a joke. Forty-five good years were worth anything I have to suffer now. Not only because they were good years, but because I like myself better because of who I became during those forty-five years.
I am reading The Hidden Face of God, which Judy lent me. The author argues that behind the whole material world and all life forms is a 'wisdom' which he says is a conscious God. The book starts with a description of the atomic structure of molecules. I loved reading these early chapters. I learned breathtaking information about the structure of all matter. If the nucleus of an atom is 4 inches large, the nearest electron or proton is 4 miles away. Wow! We are mostly air—what a concept. We feel so solid but were not. Judy and I share the amazement of how the world works. It is truly breathtaking. No one could make this up. Judy and I differ in as much as this is proof of a God in control of everything. For me, I have no need for evidence of God's existence. It is not a meaningful question for me. I 'act as if' because it gives me comfort. I see the benefit and no harm to me or others in 'acting as if,' but I have no need for 'proof' of God's existence.
I am in the chapter on how human life develops from sperm and egg to final delivery. One diploid cell contains all the information needed to form all our organs in all the right places. I told Judy something I heard or read about the metamorphosis of the caterpillar to the butterfly. It seems logical that the caterpillar transformation is comparable to the transformation of a tadpole to a frog, certain body parts are shed, and others are grown. But no, that's not what happens. If the cocoon is opened, all that is inside is a liquid. That's it. And out of that liquid, a butterfly is formed.
After speaking to Judy, I called Kaiser. This is my third phone call about my appointment with the ophthalmologist. This time I asked if my situation was more precarious, could I get an appointment sooner. Could I be a priority case? The appointment nurse told me that she would have someone from the ophthalmology department call me. This made me feel hopeful that I might be able to get treatment before September.
I got a text from a cousin telling me that her aunt had died this morning. Her mother, a relative through marriage to me, and her sister were close. The sister has been suffering of late. She had some sort of prefrontal lobe dementia and was placed in a nursing home when it became too much for her husband to take care of her. Then the virus hit, and she, along with everyone else in nursing homes, was cut off from family visits. She was felled by the virus and some other infections. From what my cousin through marriage has said about her sister, I envy their relationship. I am so sad about her loss. My cousin wrote to thank me for my condolence email and comment on how the typical family get-togethers for grieving are out because of the virus. I can only wish her and her family all the best.
I was feeling quite down. I turned off the TV last night in the middle of a cliffhanger. I did something I never do; I watched TV in the afternoon. I did do something of value. I printed out some of what I had written to see if it made sense to me. Aside from that, I binge-watched The Blue Rose. It's kind of fun. It's a Charlie's Angel's-style vigilante group with an interesting variety of personalities and some humor. While the group gets involved in several side gigs, they mainly focus on solving one particular murder. The show does a good job holding my attention and my interest in finding out who the guilty party is. It's clearly a chick flick.
I got close to nothing done on my writing of the book today. I am so afraid that I can't do it right. What a bore! It's Deja vu all over again from my days in high school and my undergraduate days. I did a little better when I was in graduate school. I did do a little. I moved one section to another location and did some formatting, which helps it look better. When it looks organized, it sounds better as I read it.
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