Wednesday, May 18, 2022

 Wednesday, May 18, 2022

 

    I slept well until the early morning hours. Then anxiety hit. When Mike was alive, I took a low dose of Lexapro on his insistence. I would say, “I take Lexapro for my husband’s anxiety.”  Mike’s anxiety was off the charts. How he managed to conceal it was beyond me. But now, I could see it in myself better. I didn’t know if the anxiety was a nice healthy response to the circumstances: Covid, international saber-rattling, the stock market collapse, Mike’s death, my aloneness, or my impending surgery that I have to face without Mike and every one of my bodyworkers and the surgeon have said will not make me well. My bodyworkers said outright, I will be unhappy. The surgeon said, “Pain in my lower leg is caused by sciatica and will not be improved by the surgery.”  I hoped the surgery wouldn’t make it worse. I would settle for being about the same. The only difference would be a femoral head that wouldn’t collapse within 15 years. Oh, well. We’ll see.

    I got up early and got a meditation in. I wanted to do that more. I was in the middle of reading The Surrender Experiment by Michael Singer. He meditated twice a day and managed to cope with a life that took off on its own. Now, all the stuff he reports is positive; if you don’t count, he was overwhelmed.

   I had PT with Katie at 8:15 am. I stupidly took Mamalahoa Hwy thinking school would already be in session. There were no bus drivers available. Parents had to drive their children to school. The backup on the roads leading to the high school was not to be believed. I turned around. I had to go back to my neighborhood and start over again. I made it to my appointment by my chinny-chin-chin.

   I told Katie the same thing I told Terry; I wanted to work on my old injuries in the reverse order of their occurrence. 1. The wrenching on my left inner thigh muscle. 2. My rotator cuff surgery, 3. My rotator cuff injury. 4. I pulled the left inner thigh muscle when I was nineteen 5. My fractured coccyx from when I was 12 and 4, my bruised ribs when I fell on a tent post, and I thought I had died and was glad. 6. A startle response, pulling my hips way over to the right, caused by an incident with my mother. That set my startle response pattern for life. 7. The injury to my neck delivered during my birthing process left me with a slightly lower left brow and a bashed nose. She worked on my shoulder. She approached the joint completely differently than Terry had. Amazing. These two women are a perfect complement to each other. I am so lucky.

   Katie commented that I must have had an outstanding surgeon for my rotator cuff surgery. Most doctors go right for a shoulder replacement if there has been a long time between the injury and the surgery. I injured my shoulder in a fall when I was 35 or 36; I had the surgery at 62. She said most shoulder replacements leave people with a limited range of motion. I was unaware of how lucky I was. While my shoulder is tight, it is largely mobile.

    I stopped off at the Hope Center for the Homeless on the way to my Kaiser appointment with Dr. Reed for my pre-op evaluation. Thanks to Cylin’s suggestion, I collected the empty refundable plastic bottles and soda cans from the Damons visit. I found someone to hand them over to. I was thanked. Lovely. These didn’t wind up in the trash, and someone who needed it made a few cents with them.

    I arrived early at Kaiser. I hadn’t loaded my new Kindle yet; I had a book by Steven Batchelor, After Buddhism: Rethinking the Dharma for a Secular Age. I was called almost immediately. The nurse had to take my vitals and administer an EKG. All my vitals were good except my blood pressure. OMG! It had never been so high. On the first attempt, it was 147/73. On the second attempt, it was 167/73. I have been agitated. Could this be the cause for this escalation? The nurse didn’t even try to retake it. Dr. Reed said my EKG was good. There was no change from my last one, taken several years ago. I shared my concern over my increased anxiety. Damon had recommended I get a prescription for medical marijuana to help me deal with it. Dr. Reed said CDB is better for anxiety than marijuana. It can increase anxiety in some people. Dr. Reed asked if I would consider retaking Lexapro. She recommended a minimal amount, 5 mg. I agreed. She upped my blood pressure medication from two pills a day to three. She had reduced it to two pills a day only six months ago because my blood pressure was so low. We’ll see.

   Dr. Reed asked me if I had second thoughts about the surgery. Oh, yes, and third and fourths. However, doctors have told me I have qualified/needed THR surgery for the last 13 years. I trust Dr. Salassa as I have not trusted any previous doctors. Two sources told me the current Kaiser surgeons are exceptional, and Dr. Reed spoke well of Dr. Salassa’s skill. Besides that, I was concerned about the collapse of the economic system, if not also the medical. That would make having the operation in the future impossible. To add to my concern, there is all the saber-rattling. Oh, do we ever live in interesting times! Seeing my life proceed so smoothly while others have already been sucked down the drain was amazing.

    I took a nap when I got home. Elsa, as usual, decided to lay on top of me as I woke and considered getting up. I gave her some time. At 12:30, I left for Holualoa to pick up my Sundog bread order, one deli sourdough rye, and one traditional rye sliced for Judy. I arrived at the stand shortly after 1 pm. They had set up at a different location. I asked why. “Don’t ask. Politics.” The public parking lot is owned by someone who resents their using their land to distribute their product. The restaurant down the street welcomed them. It’s just for a few hours a week.

    I got home in time to get on Zoom for Mama K’s crew. I texted her I was ready. She texted back that she was at a funeral. Oh, well. We have to work out a summer schedule.