Last night, I felt a need to go to bed around 9:30. That was a surprise because I had spent a good part of the day resting in bed if not sleeping. I expected to be up for most of the night. But no. I fell asleep quickly.
I woke up at 6:15 and was out of bed by 6:30 and off for my walk with Elsa. My tush hurt. I limited my walk to flat surfaces closer to home. I'm sure, as sure as I can be, that the increased irritation is because of the changes in my walk instead of the injury being worse. I am increasing my range of motion, and my stride it almost even. I can feel the pressure on that bruised disk with every step I take. Again, the pedometer was inconsistent in registering my steps. I moved it to the sleeve of my sweatshirt. My arm moves as I walk. It is sometimes accurate, and sometimes it doesn't register my steps.
Dorothy called. She told me that she has mastered mask making. She has a set up in her dining room with her ironing board, a cutting board, and her sewing machine. She said she can easily make one or two a day. With some effort, she could make up to four. She doesn't want to put out more energy than that.
She reflected the same feelings I am having; the confinement doesn't have a significant impact on our lives, at least not yet. We’re retired. We don't have children at home; we haven't lost jobs or find ourselves having to adapt to working from home. We both enjoy being alone with telephone contact.
Dorothy told her daughter Karin, who lives in Settle, that her mother was planning to go out to do some food shopping. Karin's reaction was intense. Absolutely not! She said her brother would do it. She called David, yes, both her husband and her brother are named David, not to mention that Dorothy kept her maiden name, which is David. That family is awash in Davids. David, the brother, called Dorothy, his mom, and told her he would go out to pick up what she needed. She was not to leave the house. The worst is that Dorothy is anticipating the possibility of never seeing her daughter and her family again who live in Seattle. Who knows what the world will be like when this is over if it ever is? How long will it take before we can do air travel again? The companies will be impacted, and will she be able to afford the airfare? Will anyone be able to afford the airfare?
While I was on the phone with Dorothy, Yvette came up and asked me to move into the library and turn off the radio. She was making a relaxation tape for her clients from Ornish. The mic was picking up my voice and the vibrations from the radio.
I had moved my radio out of the kitchen, which sits right above Yvette and Josh's quarters, to the floor in the hallway in front of my bedroom. That part of the house sits on a slab, and no one lives under it, and it is a good ten feet from where their living space starts under the kitchen floor. I was wondering if they could still hear the radio since I moved it. Yvette said no, but the mic she was using was sensitive and picked up the sound vibrations.
I had another long, delicious nap, and read more of the book on Jung.
Scott came to the door and announced he was heading for Costco; did I need anything? Yes, a package of salad. Ronen's salad is great for a prepared plate. I need a large bowl with hardy leaves. His lettuce doesn't cut it for me. I will see what his mixed greens look like. However, his carrots, yes, his carrots, Yum!
I watched The Big Sick last night. Someone interview Kamail on NPR yesterday, and that's how I heard of it. I enjoyed it. It was a romantic comedy based on real life. Real-life often is a romantic comedy.
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Musings:
McGilchrist's book said that mental illnesses like autism and schizophrenia were diseases of the right brain. The left brain dominated. I had a thought- those were warning words for Mike when I issued them. He would say, "Oh, no. She's had a thought." He used to find my miscellaneous thoughts an annoyance. Before he died, he said that he started finding them interesting and fun. He said he never knew what would come out of my mouth next.
Again, I had a thought about why autism often shows up as late as age three. These children can look normal up to that point. Here's an unasked-for opinion. Babies are born right-brain dominant. They are in survival mode, which is guided by the right brain automatic responses. The left brain has to develop, or at least the skills of the left brain have to develop. At the point where symptoms manifest in these children, one of two things may be happening. The left brain may have developed preternaturally, or the right-brain may not have continued to develop. In either case, the child becomes left-brain dominant to the extent that it is dysfunctional. That is why they sound like 'little professors.' They are reciting information that they learned from sources other than their own perceptions.
On the other hand, there Temple Grandin, a famous animal scientist, says that she thinks in pictures, not in words. Thinking in pictures is a right-brain activity. Not only that, but she also definitely learns from her our perceptions. If that is true for all autistic people, that contradicts my theory. How's this for a resolution: While Grandin has some problems that overlap with autism, she's not autistic.
And then again, I believe we all think in pictures and then translate those pictures into words. Some people claim they don't produce visual images. At a symposium at Princeton University, a speaker said that research on those who thought they didn't think in pictures the visual cortex lit up but not as much as in those who did think they thought in pictures. When it comes to abstract thinking, those images may not be like live-action movies playing in our heads. I experience them as abstract images which I can translate. Kekule had the image of a snake eating its own tail. He was able to translate that image into the shape of a benzene molecule. I wouldn't have the background to make the leap, but I often rely on images which I translate into words. Images guide me in fields where I do have some expertise. I believe that most of us translate our visual images into words so rapidly we lose our awareness of the phenomenon.
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