Thursday, May 12, 2022

 Thursday, May 12, 2022

   I woke up in a worried state of mind and thought, “It must be 2:30, my agitation hour.” No. It was 12:30. The rest of the night was divided between agitation, restless sleep, and massaging my leg with a tennis ball to resolve some pain. I had been very agitated, mostly over the upcoming THR surgery. Should I, or shouldn’t I?   

    I have put off this surgery for 13 years now. Seven surgeons told me I needed it, but it felt wrong. I discovered that PTs agree with my perspective. Most physical problems can be resolved by soft tissue manipulation. Who wouldn’t want that instead of surgery? Many people would prefer what they hoped would be a quick fix rather than do the necessary work. I’m not that way. I believed I had to get my postural problems fixed before the surgery. The PTs support my point of view. They are still discouraging me from the surgery. The one I trust the most said, “The implants only last 15 years.”  I checked that information online. “95% last 10 years, 75% last 15 to 20 years, and 58% last 25 years.”  Some last even longer. I’m not overweight and remain active without indulging in high-impact sports. I have a good chance of being in the 25-year group. Since I calculate the possibility of living to 106, that should be perfect.

    As I walked this morning, I recognized the agitation I was experiencing. I get agitated about social interactions gone wrong, but this is different. This was a teeth-rattling, mind-numbing agitation. I experienced it before Mike, and I moved to Princeton. I was scared to death. I was so upset Mike proposed dropping the idea. I said no because I was the one who had proposed we do it now. We had talked about needing to do it. I woke up one morning at five and had this super strong knowledge we had to move to Princeton as quickly as possible. I was so fired up that I couldn’t stay in bed. I got up and sat in the living room. When Mike woke, he knew something was up and came looking for me. He found me huddled on the couch, shaking. I announced we needed to move. That impulse which was so clear and strong trumped my fear. There was no way I was giving in to it. It was a wonderful move. We were a mile away from Damon on his way to and from school. I loved living there. Mike’s jobs were more stressful than either of us would have liked. He was the CEO of NJ state mental institutions. He took his responsibility very seriously. I have had other ‘clear’ moments in our lives together. Mike always followed my lead when I had them.

   Yvette said this was her best interaction with Damon. He was more relaxed during this visit than when his dad was here. Mike was controlling; Damon is controlling. Need I say more? Me, I couldn’t care less if he took over my house. He ordered sheets, blankets, and pillows to use on his bed on his first visit here after his dad died. Ours were not good enough for him. Sure, why not? He would never have made noise about leaving for Maui around his dad. Around me, he can think of himself. I would have been sad to see him cut short his five-day visit. I was so glad he didn’t.  

   I called the state park rangers today to find out how the beached turtle was doing. I couldn’t get hold of one of the officers, but I spoke to someone who gave me the number of a dispatcher. She told me there was no report of an injured turtle. Their shell would have protected them from being damaged if stepped on. I emailed Cylin to let her know. She bonded with those turtles after her first encounter with them a few years ago. She makes a point of visiting every year.

     I called Adolescent D’s mom today to give her good news. He felt he saw a significant improvement in his reading, and I found a way to work with him that he rated as a 10. His mom understood the value of his positive response to the work. If he’s positive, he won’t be resistant to learning. Whatever the value of the lesson, subtract the student’s negative response to evaluate its effectiveness. That negativity takes up brain space that prevents learning.

  I bathed Elsa. Given her skin problems, I should bathe her every other day. She’s lucky if I bathe her once a week. I have to leave the medicinal soap on her for 15 minutes. I think both of us are getting used to the procedure. I did not want to give her antibiotics or medicine that compromised her immune system.

    I called Isaac during my evening walk. He said he was also out walking. I changed my direction so we could meet up. He’s got great energy. It was always good to see him. We ran into Lutz, Darby, Mei, and Sui as we walked. That’s my neighborhood; plenty of friendly walkers.

    A bell went off in my head. It was time to give Elsa her single tick, flea protection, and heartworm pill. I was so disoriented. The kids’ visit was central. I only had additional energy to worry myself sick about the surgery. I am more peaceful now than I’ve been in a long time. I was reconciled to the surgery. I was good when I learned that 58% of THR lasted 25 years. I am a perfect candidate for the long-lasting one. I am not overweight; I would remain active, walking, and not doing high-impact activities. Twenty-five years should carry me through to the end.