Taking Care of Nana!

 You probably don't need to be informed that music has been overrun with explicit lyrics since Crosby, Nash, Stills and Young were leading the charts!

Members of my family have a long-standing habit of changing lyrics to suit our moods but even then, we pretty much kept the language clean.

My great granddaughter was in the car with me earlier this week, humming a beautiful melody. I wanted to hear more. I asked her about the song and artist. 

Exited to shared her love for the songs of her favorite musician but especially the love for the song she was humming, she hummed it a little louder.

"That is beautiful! Will you sing it for me?" I asked.

A deep wrinkle developed between her eyebrows and her mouth kind of twitched a bit. 

Though she sings out loud all day long while she is here with me, she said she would try to find a version of the song "without explicit lyrics" and share that with me!

I love it. My great granddaughter is going to protect me, a nana fluent in trucker-speak, from explicit lyrics.

She makes me smile! 

You Fought a Good fight

 Fare travels, Mike. You fought a good fight.

Standing beside MIke's bed in the VA hospital, I was filled with sadness and thankfulness. Thankful that I had known this man for so many years as a truly good friend. Our conversations through the years were sometimes mere laugh fests and sometimes extremely deep.

Since his passing I have reconnected with Mike's best friend and sidekick from high school. Sharing our memories of those days of carefree youth has been sweet. Reminds me of life surrounded by orchards, drives to Santa Cruz and picnics at Steven's Creek Park, basketball games in our respective gyms, and the night Mike rolled our friend Gavin's parents Mercedes.

I imagine Mike sipping brandy with Hemmingway in some tropical other-world filled with joy and contentment discussing all their favorite books and classic movies and the meaning of life.

"Friendship is not a jewel or a coin or a gift

Jewels and coins and gifts don’t die

Friendship is not a flower or blown glass;

Friendship is not fragile

Friendship is not a poem or a melody

Because friendship cannot be forgotten

Friendship is a symphony

With grand overtures

Melodic harmonies

and unforgettable phrases

punctuated by Attacking staccatos, Vibrant arpeggios then peaceful interludes

And sometimes rests Followed by thoughtful segues

All held together by a coherent structure

called Respect"

(Ellis Reyes Apr 2021)

Frightening

Hi Friends! Hope you're all well.

When I was 7 or 8 years old I read an article in the Readers Digest magazine my parents subscribed to. The article was written in the voice of another 7 or 8 year old. She was in  Czecholslovakia in the 1950's.

Her story begins with her being awakened in her bed in the wee hours of the morning by a deep rumble that shook her bed. 

I don't remember how she discovered that the rumble was not an earthquake but was actually a Soviet tank rolling down her street, but I remember her fear. 

I remember her fear when soldiers broke down the door to her home and dragged her father away.

I remember her fear and misery when as she talks about never seeing her father again. He disappeared along with the fathers, uncles, grandfathers of many of her friends.

I also remember the fear I experienced while reading her story and the relief I felt when my father reassured me that we live in America. 

"What happened to that little girl and her family will never happen to us."

Years and years later, when Donald Trump announced his candicacy for president, my father shared with me how frightening it was that a man of that temperment could be seriously considered for the highest office in our country.

Dad shared with me that this man had the same attributes as Hitler, Mussolini and other despicable men. Men who lacked character, compassion or simple humanity.

My dad passed away in 2018, at almost 90 years old. I miss him with all my heart but I can't tell you how relieved I am that he is not here today to witness our country so close to losing our way of life, our democracy; to witness how close we are to having tanks rumbling down our neighborhood streets to round up those of us who have declared outloud what we think of Trump and his minions.

The good news after today's Supreme Court decision on presidential immunity is that I have a terminal disease. I may not be here if the Cheeto Banditio wins the election. The bad news is that my grandchildren will inherit a world we never could imagine for ourselves.

I am afraid for them. I am afraid for women, for LGBTQ+ community, for minorities, for disabled, for the elderly, for the impoverished. 

I am afraid for the United States of America.

Rolling Stones

 The Rolling Stones have never been one of my favorites. I may be one of a dozen people in my age group that isn't fond of them, let-alone "in love' with them. I did like those striped trousers but the music was meh for the most part.

These past two days their hit song Time Is On My Side (no, it's not) is stuck in my head. Stuck in my head when I am not thinking about a dear, dear friend who is in surgery at this moment. 

He and I have been friends since I was 12, he was 14. He was also too cool for me when we were that age but I thought he looked like Dr. Kildare (Richard Chamberlain). 

As we matured (or so we thought) we begin going to parties together and eventually dating. He was my first real kiss, my first date, my first make-out partner! I went to his high school prom with him. 

He had a 1954 Ford that we would jam full of friends and sometimes drag race down El Camino Real in Santa Clara. The front bench seat of this peach of a car was not bolted down, so occasionally, it slipped a bit. One Friday evening we were headed to have pizza with friends; Mike and I and some friends in his car, the rest of the gang in Norv's car. 

At a red light, our friend drove up next to us, revving his engine. The light turned green,:we peeled out. We were far ahead of Norv's car when the light in front of us turned red. My friend slammed on his brakes. As we skidded to a stopped the bench seat slid out from under us. The three of us in the front seat were looking up, staring at our knees, when one of the guys in the back seat yelled, "I smell smoke!" 

Smoke was, indeed, rising from the back of the vehicle. It was a sight watching 8 crazy teenagers trying to squirm our way out of the vehicle. Oh yeah, the left hand door in the back didn't function so back-seaters had to scramble out of the right hand door. Bruising did, indeed, result.

After we all settled down and the adrenaline oozed away, Mike, my friend, discovered that he had left his emergency brake on when we were racing, hence, the smoke!

Did any of us morons call our folks for a ride home? Heck no. We pushed the bench seat back in place, piled back in and went for pizza and spent the evening harrassing the Norv that we beat him even with the brakes on. 

How are we all still alive?

Mike and I have been good friends for the last 61 years. We dated for a short time and then moved on to other people but stayed friends. 

The past two years we've both had health issues and talk quite often, not just about health problems. We just share life's experiences, thoughts and perceptions. His significant other died early this year leaving 16 years old twins in his care. Since her passing he has had several serious surgeries and complications from surgeries. 

He called on Sunday to tell me that he was back in the VA hospital with a serious infection from the last surgery. The doctors had also discovered he has cancer in his spine and it is not the primary cancer but they are not sure yet of original location. 

He called yesterday to say that he was going to have surgery on infected site but transferring hospitals first. 

This morning he called to say the doctor said that the surgery was needed asap; maybe this evening or tomorrow BUT that with everything else going on with Mike the possiblity of not making it through surgery was a real issue.

We spoke for only a minute or so because I was in doctor's office myself. I told him I would call as soon as I saw the doctor. 

Ten minutes later, about an hour ago, Mike called me back. He said the doctor went over the most recent test results and said emergency surgery was required "right now!" Just then my own doctor walked into the room.

We said, "I love you." He hung up.

I don't remember what my doctored said. I could only think of all the things I've always wanted to tell Mike. What a good friend he's been over the years. How brilliant a writer he is. How compassionate he is. That he still reminds me of Dr. Kildare. How I really loved that first kiss and the prom. 

Time is not on our side, people. Tell those you love, those you appreciate, those you respect how you feel. Tell the now. Don't wait until they're being wheeled in to surgery and might not be coming out.  

May (Maybe Yes and Maybe No)

I can't say enough about how awesome the doctors and pharmacists are at U C Davis. They must major in medicine but hold a minor in Listening Skills and Communication Arts.

If you need medical care, try to get a referral to U C Davis. The Critical Care Unit is in downtown Sacramento and only minutes from the airport. It's a two hour drive for us but the drive back usually includes a drive through Sacramanto Wildlife Refuge for some photography. 

Good medical care, eagles, owls, and a Costco ice cream sundae!  

It's a win/win trip! 

Speaking of photography, one of the Guy's photographs was chosen as the banner for the U. S. National Weather Service-Sacramento website for the month of April. 

Photo by Frank Tona (copyright)

 It was taken on a crazy weather day and evening. We were standing on the top of a nearby parking structure and the lightning was constant, the thunder was both rolling and rumbling. Scary and exciting!

Doctor and pharmacist are lowering the dosage of Ofev and sending a new perscription. I start it again next week. Wish me luck.

Lab Results

 Sometimes we are stuck in  dilemma, not knowing which unpleasant choice to make and something comes along and makes the choice for you.

The Hep panel results are in today and in just three months the new medication has flipped my liver test results from straight down the middle of normal to a crazy patch of highs and lows. 

Too late to call the pulmonologist today. Don't most doctors (and lawyers) take Friday afteroons off for a round of golf?

So I guess I'll find out Monday if I continue meds or not but in the meantime, I think I'll not take the pills, drink lots of water and go eat some spicy Mexican food and maybe some Indian cuisine! 

Still over-the-moon with joy for my son and his family and I know (cause I do my research) that I can get my liver back to normal in three weeks or so.

Yo Vivo!

Joy

 Yesterday was a pretty down-day for me. Those days come and they go. I practice being "up" but sometimes it's just too much to pretend!

Today, however, was a great day. A truly great day.

I talked to my youngest son. He just started his dream job, working for a large non-profit organiztion. For the first time in a long time the stress and worry was not in his voice. His voice was joyful! 

His position has an extraordinary amount responsibilty as have his jobs in the past but he made the observation that never once in any of the seemingly endless meetings the words "profit, bottomline, net gain" was ever uttered. 

This mother's spirit was filled with incredible peace hearing the joy in my son's voice.

Truly, a great day!

Apologies and Other Stuff

 Apologies to all my blog-friends. No good excuses for not keeping up to date except, well, shit happens and some shit doesn't happen. It seems like in our household we've got it all mixed up!

I do have good news about Lily, our little Chihuahua/Terrier cross. Ever since we've had her, her breath has been atrocious but we kind of figured it came with being an older dog! We've taken her to the vet several times (usually for foxtail removals) but none of the vets have ever told us she had issues with her teeth. She had that typical esophagus cough that Chihuahua's get but a little CBD calms her down and the cough goes away. 

A couple of months ago, she started sneezing and then she would shake her head violently. We took her in, thinking that maybe she had a foxtail up her nose. Nope! Our poor baby's teeth were so bad that she had a serious sinus infection with an accompanying fistula in her nasal cavity. Over $3000 later she is happy, acts like a puppy again, doesn't sneeze, cough or shake her head. AND her breath is sweet as a baby's!

She seems to be a whole new precious little dog. 

The not-so-good news that goes along with that is that the Guy and I have been putting money aside to help us update the house to prepare it for sale. We don't want to get into investments, we want to just pay as we go. 

We put a new roof on the house, installed a new HVAC. We demolished the tile and grout counters in kitchen and had quartz counters installed. We had just put away enough to update the guest bathroom when Rex, our Border Collie, got cancer. That surgery and care was over $3500. He is fully recovered and doing super fine, especially for an almost 17 year old dog. We waited a bit to do the bathroom and ended up doing a lot ourselves but we got it done...mostly!

So we had just saved were pretty close to enough to redo our own bathroom when Lily's surgery came up. So, I guess we will be waiting on the updating on that pretty ugly 1980's bathroom.

But, we have two healthy, happy pups and that's what matters.

On the personal side. A pharmacist at U C Davis helped me get a grant to pay the $3000/mo copay for Ofev for my Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. I've been on it for just over a month. Other than feeling like vomiting two-thirds of the day and night and having to stay within sprinting distance to a bathroom, I'm doing okay with it.

The ablation on my knee worked pretty well but I find myself off-balance quite a bit. I got a disabled parking placard and I use my dad's walker.  I feel old and tired. My energy level is damn low and honestly, I'm wrestling with whether i want to keep trying to thrive or just get some good books, go to bed and wait for the IPF to come get me. 

Basically I guess I'm grieving the loss of me. The active me I used to be. The me that could walk to my bedroom and back without having to sit down and catch my breath. I miss the me that could go out back and work in the yard and lose track of time because there was no pain to remind me how long it's been and I didn't have to rest for 10 minutes for every 5 minutes (if that) of work. 

When I was growing up anytime my mother caught me just sitting and reading a book, she would tell me, "I'm sure there is something in this house that needs cleaning before you can just sit and read." I haven't outgrown that voice in my head. When the Guy and I are working on a project, I feel so guilty that I have to go and sit for 20 minutes to catch my breath while he carries on without me.

He absolutely never makes me feel guilty. He wants me to rest but I am filled with guilt and shame that I'm so useless. 

Time to feed the pups and take some really icky pill! 

I miss you all.

Happy Holidays

 Hi all!

I hope your holiday season has been joyful, comfy and full of love.

The guy and I had a most wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas. Totally chill and fun. 

If you're ever in the area of Corralitos, there is a really fun winery, El Vacquero. Friday nights there is live music and dancing from 6 to 9. The wine is excellent. You can bring in your own food or you can pick up some munchies at the various food trucks they have parked out front. 

I am looking forward to 2024 with every bone in my body. I have seen my therapist almost weekly since November 2022. She's helped me resolve some life-long issues, a couple of family issues and helping me with a Death With Dignity plan.

A clinical trial agency contacted me to see if I would participate in another IPF trial. After all the hoops and tests my pulmonary function did not make the cut. The  fibrosis is progressing. Sucks!

I think I've written about the pressure of trying to keep moving while in 9+level knee pain. I had a knee ablation which has helped a little but it's only been a month so maybe it will still improve. Hoping.

I had a dream the other night. It was weird and incredibly lucid. 

The pain in my knee, back and neck is off-the-charts, fatigue is my constant companion and I get short of breath just walking to check the mail or walking down the hall to my bedroom. 

In my dream, I was crawling on the floor and it seemed as if 3/4 of my soul, or conscience (or whatever you want to call the thinking-you) was out of my body and I was trying to kick my body away. I couldn't get away from my body and I was frustrated that it seemed to be clinging to me. I remember being very lucid and wanting to ditch my body so bad; angry that it wouldn't let go.

When I woke up my first thought was wondering if this dream is part of the process of dying. Processing how to move on without one's body.

I've had out-of-body experiences before. I've practiced astral projection off and on for years, but I've always known that I would be returning to my body. I've never not wanted to belong to my body. 

I guess it's back to my therapist after the first of the year!!! 

One step forward, two steps back.

Meet My Pretty Addiction

 Great Day!

I finished re-upholstering my antique rocking chair. I've only wanted to do it for about 20 years! Procrastination baby!!! One of my super powers!

Well, of course, the rocking chair is barely visible!
Just don't look at the bottom!

Two of my granddaughters brought the plate on the table from Italy for me. I love it but mostly I love that they know my style; Bright and Colorful!!!

I took a couple of other photos of some of my plant addiction today. I did dust the leaves today but do not look closely at the floor...dog hair!

Can you see my didgeridoo on the table? Part of the therapy 
for my lungs! Cool huh!

Meet ZZ on the table. I am in love with this plant. It has such beautiful branches and glossy leaves. The fern (Herna-Ferna) is lower right. She's growing so fast I'm going to have to build her a room of her own!

The top of brick half-wall is filled with Pothos. I may have more Pothos than anyone in the world (just ask The Guy). I have several of my mother's and many, many rooted cuttings. 

Don't tell me I didn't warn you about the overabundance of Pothos. They're everywhere!

Speaking of overabundance; the Purple Heart Wandering Tradescantia is trying to take over the house. 

Several times a month I need to take cuttings of the wandering purple heart and root them in the kitchen. While the cuttings are rooting, I have to take cuttings from them. This photo does not do it justice though. It really is a deep, deep purple!

As I look at these photos I wonder why I took them without picking up the clutter. 

Oh, I know, the clutter is still there because I can always put stuff away tomorrow! Isn't that what tomorrows are for?

More plants? Hell yeah.

Kitchen, family room, bathrooms and entry. Still need to find a place for the Sansevieria I promised myself earlier this week.

Weekend is coming up...any plans?

Covid Coping

 A random comment popped up today on a post I made pre-Covid.. 

The post was right after I painted over some of my murals and painted the fireplace bricks. We were "neutralizing" the house. Life was extremely hectic; we were taking care of my parents as their health declined; Frank was still working. We needed our house to be less colorful, less jazzy, more peaceful, to help calm ourselves when returning from chaos.  

We were also decluttering and packing some items as we prepared to move out of state.

I posted several photos of the changes. The photo below is one corner of the family room. 

We were making progress! Then my parents passed and Covid hit. 

Isolation and grief reigned. Restaurants closed, no one was taking donations, no one buying off of Marketplace or Craigslist, no one visiting, everything on the news was just plain ugly...you know, you were there! 

What got you through Covid? 

Many humans self-medicate to get through trauma. Some smoke, some drink or take drugs, others just gaze out the window and drool (been there). 

My preferred self-prescribed remedy for stress: Adopting houseplants, lots and lots of houseplants. I have fur babies and photosynthesis babies!

I revisited the post from said random comment  Cue the laughter and humiliation as  I looked up at the corner as it is today. I iddendiately jumped up and removed a couple of the plants to clear the jungle a bit! I can't believe I've filled the corner to the brim! Then I shot the following photo!

Realization:  I haven't decluttered at all. I just got rid of stuff to make room for different (more) stuff!

Shame on me. 

I should go to Lowes and pickup more  boxes for packing and maybe more garbage bags for donations. Gotta get back in declutter and purge state.-of-mind.  Maybe tI'll ake a quick peek in the nursery department...just in case someone wants to come home with me! You know, as long as I'm there!

I just realized we don't have a Sansevieria!

How did you get through Covid? Wine? Road rage? Netflix? Maybe you didn't cope well and are reading this blog from your cell. Inquiring minds, you know!

Couch Advice

 Mabon Blessings! 

Straddling the line today, beware your footing!

The Guy and I were watching a couple of detective/mystery shows last night. It could be that I am clueless or just haven't been paying attention. I discovered how much The Guy talks to the characters. "Talks" meaning advises, berates and admonishes!

When the "good guy" warns another character to "stay here", my Guy rolls his eyes and warns Good-Guy that no one ever listens to "stay here"! If Good-Guy is instructing a child or teenager to "stay here", my guy shouts, "They're a kid, kids don't know how to "stay here"!

When Good-Guy agrees to meet under the bridge (alone) in the industrial area (or wharf) at midnight, my guy yells, "it's a set-up, geez were you born last night?" When Good-Guy gets shot, stabbed or beat-up, from across the room I hear, "Warned you, you idiot!"

Then there are the times Good-Guy ("or woman if you are one" Colin Hayes, Beautiful World) races to a warehouse where there are 17 known thugs with weapons, drugs and bad attitudes inside, (maybe a hostage or two). Good-Guy may or may not call for back-up but does he wait for back-up? Hell no, Good-Guy  races into building alone, maybe even limps into the warehouse due to injuries from the beating in the early hours under the bridge, probably bleeding from a gun shot to the shoulder or stab wound to the gut!

My Guy couch wisdom:

"Yeah, go in by your lone-self, you narcissistic fool."
"You're going to die, don't say I didn't warn you?"
"Ooh, your mama going to be soooo mad cuz you done left your brains at home...again."

Good-Guy with wire cutters and the blue-with-white-stripe-or-white-with-blue-stripe bomb about to go off in 12 seconds; building, train or bus full of people...

"Hungover huh? Should have gone home last night instead of drinking whiskey at that nasty strip joint!"

Or

"Cut the damn wire! You've read the scrip; it isn't going to blow!"

Good-Guys are not the only characters to receive couch wisdom, There is the occasional insomniac who decides that jogging in the wee hours of the day will help them clear their head...or lose it! My blog is rated PG, so I can't share with you what advice he has to say to the lone joggers, with ponytails and earbuds...

Mostly I just love it when my guy deeply sighs and wonders outloud, "Don't these fools ever watch tv?

Do you talk to your television? Know someone that does?