Another year, another day...

Today is over a year from my last post. Here's a list of what has happened in that year, in no particular order:

Princess died, she was just over 15 1/2 years old and suddenly lost control of her rear end. Too big for me to carry and I declined the vet's recommendation of X-rays and possible surgery.

I flew out west and back; I stayed with a friend in New Westminster and visited various friends and family. The main purpose of the trip was to see my brother with stage 4 liver cancer on Hornby Island. I had promised myself I would go when I no longer had a dog. I had such a lovely time with few health repercussions. Wore an N95 mask on all airplanes between here and there.

My New Westminster friend's balcony overlooking the Fraser River

While out west I saw a dear friend with advanced Parkinson's. Sadly, the mental/cognitive symptoms were far worse than the physical ones. Her partner arranged for her to go into a pretty good nursing home when he could no longer cope with her cognitive decline. When I saw her she was seriously crippled and in a wheel chair, but she did recognize me and smiled delightedly to see me. Her partner said it was the first time in a long time he saw her that happy. But she cried when we left. And a couple of weeks ago her partner called me to say that she had died. Her decline was rapid after I saw her, she no longer recognized him or responded to him. She was my best friend when I lived there, I feel so badly for her, how awful her decline was. But I am grateful that I saw her before the end.

My dear friend and I

My brother continues to decline, he is all there mentally but very thin and frail.

My other brother has also been diagnosed recently with cancer. The diagnosis came in December but he didn't want to tell anyone over Christmas so I only found out in January. Simultaneously his wife was diagnosed with cancer, had immediate surgery and is recovering now. I hope that goes well.

I started attending my writing group's zoom calls, in hopes that it would inspire me to start writing again. Not sure it was that successful. 

In addition to my fish I got four mystery snails. They fornicate a lot and leave bright pink batches of eggs on the walls of their aquarium. They have zero interest in parenting those eggs.

 

Mystery snail fornication in progress

Worst drought in a long time, starting in June and not really letting up until October. Followed by an early winter with lots of snow. My snow plough guy came five times in December alone, which is pretty unusual. 

I have two new dogs, Daisy and Maisie. Like Princess they were 13 years old when they came to live with me, but being terriers I suspect they will live longer than Princess did. They bark a lot.

 

Maisie and Daisy

And I am still sick. The last couple of weeks have been bad, I am trying to wait it out. There's nothing I can do. I feel like a puddle of mud.

However last fall I attended the 3rd annual Covid Symposium via zoom ( the Covid Network headed up by Dr Angela Cheung) and among other things connected with a guy who has organized a province wide support group. Since then I have attended a few group meetings and it is nice to connect with others in the same boat. They are trying to expand the reach of the group to the rest of Canada, people in Alberta and BC are interested but they haven't made connections in the rest of the country. I'd have thought people in Ontario would be interested but apparently not. The thing about this group is that sessions are facilitated by fellow LC sufferers. It's night and day having a group facilitated by one of us versus some healthcare professional. They just don't get the lived experience.

I've also been seeing a counsellor. She is nice and really tries hard to understand, but I can't describe it effectively. She told me about a case she is following, a couple in which the wife has LC and the husband feels like she is making a lot of demands on him causing him some frustration. It sounds like the wife is not Severe, she is able to work from home. Maybe Moderate-Severe. But even so… I am curious to hear how their counsellor is handling this case.

Today: well we had a big dump of snow two weekends ago and my snow plough guy ploughed my driveway up to my car, but I still had to dig a path from my back door to the edge he had ploughed to. Maybe double my car length. The snow had drifted so parts of it were over three feet deep. After that I did not have the stamina to dig out my car. A day later my neighbour was concerned and came over to dig it out (covered in over a foot of snow). By that time I was in a crash; I couldn't have dug out the car if my life depended on it. So I was very grateful. She said she needed to get out of the house to take a break from doomscrolling (she's American Canadian).

Anyway, I am still in a crash. Can hardly move from my couch, my skin is so sensitive my clothes feel like steel wool and when I touch my skin my fingers feel like sandpaper. My hands and feet tingle, my bowels are unhappy, my eyes are burning, my head feels like it's full of lead. Not to mention no stamina and even though I am in bed for 10 hours at night and apparently asleep for most of that time, I wake up utterly exhausted. The lack of stamina and the leaden head require that I spend most of my awake time lying down or semi-reclined. I force myself to get up to let the dogs in/out, bring in a load of firewood and fill the bird feeder. I make simple meals most of the time. 

However.

I signed up for HelloFresh just for a break from ready-made meals, but the minimum order is three meals of two servings each. Although for my appetite that's three servings each, sometimes four. They say that they require 15-35 minutes prep time, but at my pace it is at least double whatever they think it should be. 

I cannot stand at the kitchen counter for that long. I read the recipes and try to figure out how I can break it into two or more sessions on my feet, but the recipes have a lot of "meanwhiles". As in "while the rice cooks heat a large pan and fry some other ingredients" or "heat the oven and roast some other ingredients". 

Sometimes there are nested or sequential meanwhiles. Cognitively I just can't manage all the timekeeping involved in the meanwhiles, let alone the standing there always doing something or other. I frequently burn stuff. I have one more "free" meal and then I plan to quit. I enjoy the variety of ingredients and flavours but definitely not the work involved.

Ice and Snow, ME and My Dog

I've been intending to write a post here, but every time I open the laptop to do so, I get distracted by something else on the internet and lickety split it is supper time and I need to get going on Princess's supper, my supper, etc etc.

Reading: Supersurvivors (2014) and A Memory of Light (2013). I would like to say more, but just can't right now.

First major snowstorm of the year I think, happening today.

Listening: Podcast called Breathing Pattern Disorder and implications in Long Covid (2022). This is the distraction that got me today. One of my diagnoses. The other is ME.

On Monday I skated at the Reservoir. First time in years! I was shaky but I did it.

On Tuesday I skated again, this time with Princess. She was so delighted to chase me across the ice, running as fast as she could, ears flapping, tail going hard. It was such a moment of joy but we both paid for it. With congestive heart failure she shouldn't have been running. In my defence I didn't know she would do that, that she would be so excited. I thought she would just meander around like she usually does.

With my ME, any activity like that makes me sick for the rest of the day. It's a trade off. Same for Princess.

I didn't skate today, I wanted to, but Princess was with mr and I didn't want her running again. I thought I would come back later without her but then the snow picked up and I knew I needed a break anyway so I didn't go.

There's a family who live near the Reservoir who clear the snow off the ice, when the ice is thick enough and they are not out skiing. They were there today, skating and clearing snow.

I hope there will be more skating days.

Catch up

New car in the driveway, in the rain and through a window, my reflected red plaid housecoat obscuring the view

So where was I?

Today is a very rainy windy Saturday and I am in my jammies, I may not change into daytime clothing at all. Last night my new-to-me car was delivered and now sits in the driveway. I have never driven it and it is raining too hard to transfer the licence plate from the truck to the car. I am assured that it is a wonderful car to drive, but have had no chance to confirm that.

I will definitely miss the truck. The past week I have been enumerating all of its deficiencies each time I drive it, in hopes of breaking my attachment to it. We did all the paperwork and money transfers last night, so the previous owner of the car now owns the truck. He plans to sell it to a mutual friend who really needs a reliable truck. I am happy about that, but still a little sad to let it go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My brother out west is in liver failure, and my 15 year old dog in heart failure. After a crisis a couple of weeks ago my brother was given 3 months to survive, if that. I was trying to figure out a way to see him before the end, but travelling across the continent at this time of year whilst sick is near impossible. Could be done but at great risk to my own health.

Princess in her new bed with her favourite toy

Finding out that my dog is in heart failure pretty much put paid to that. In the meantime my brother's status has somewhat improved, his GP is saying that with proper meds he could survive much longer than the original prognosis. He even sounds better on the phone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By mutual agreement my former GP and I parted ways a year ago. I've been transferred to a Primary Care Clinic and if I manage to get through on the phone on a specific morning I can get an appointment with a doctor the following week. Getting through is the tricky part, there is about a one hour window each week in which hundreds of people are trying to get through.

Nevertheless I have gotten more better care there in the past year than in the past 8-9 years with my previous GP. The doctors at the clinic ordered so many tests and scans and made so many referrals to specialists it darn near took my breath away. And unlike my former GP they explained stuff in non-patronizing ways. This is what medical care looks like!

It all came to a head in late September when the referrals came through and the tests and scans were scheduled. Extremely busy October, driving hither and yon for various appointments!

The specialists in turn recommended seeing other specialists not covered by MSI (provincial health insurance), so November has been a very expensive healthcare month. Specifically, a respiratory physiotherapist and an acupuncturist, both of whom are concentrating on getting my lungs working properly again. I was unaware that they were not!

Turns out that for the past four years I have been hyperventilating, causing insufficient oxygen to be absorbed by my lungs and in turn by my blood. You would think that hyperventilation would be obvious to me, but it was not. I think the acupuncture and breathing exercises are helping, but all the work of getting to appointments, minding my sick dog, buying a car and the usual activities of shopping, food prep, and minimal housekeeping is counterproductive. Not to mention the stress of family stuff. I am in a crash now.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One of the internists I saw prescribed an antidepressant that she thought would give me more energy. First time I tried it I last two days, the lethargy and nausea overwhelmed me. Second time I tried it I only lasted one day, same side effects plus insomnia. On top of the fatigue and orthostatic intolerance I am already experiencing it is just too much. I am told that the side effects will subside, but I need to take the pills for more than two days. And walk the dog, get meals, attend appointments in the city, and just generally carry on with daily life.

I thought I had four days of nothing scheduled so maybe I could try the pills then, but it didn't work out that way.
I was incapacitated by one pill.
Stuff came up I had to deal with.
I crashed.

A Debate Recap With Song, Dance and Joseph Gordon-Levitt

From the New York Times, the Harris/Trump debate of September 10, the debate analysis you didn’t know you needed:

A Debate Recap With Song, Dance and Joseph Gordon-Levitt

”They’re eating the dogs!

They’re eating the cats!”

Fish tails

Please note that while based on a True Story, names and gender assignations are for storytelling purposes only.

Mr. Pleco and Ms Cory Catfish live in a flowerpot. There are two entrances on the ground level and also a very large picture window, but for the most part Mr Pleco and Ms Cory live in the windowless upper level. Mr Pleco prefers darkness and it is hard to know what Ms Cory prefers. Also hard to know is the exact nature of their relationship, or what it is that they do in private, in the dark. Perhaps the relationship is romantic, or possibly platonic, or more likely simply a matter of convenience: they both like the privacy of the dark.

Mr Pleco stands in front of his flowerpot house

Their immediate neighbours, the Tetras, are not exactly noisy, but they are quite rambunctious and stick their noses everywhere. They have been admonished on more than one occasion not to enter the flowerpot, Ms Cory chases them away. They occasionally and very cautiously peek through the main entrance but I doubt they see anything of note. They know they are not welcome there. Amongst themselves they play hide and seek games, play fight and chase each other around in a form of fish tag.

The nosy neighbours

Mr Pleco rarely appears in public but when he does he is most formal in appearance and demeanour, dressed all in black standing upright against the wall and moving about most solemnly. When he first moved into the neighbourhood he had the entire place to himself, but did not care to be seen at all. The privacy of the flowerpot appealed to him immensely and immediately. Ms Cory moved in later, about the same time as the nosy neighbours. She was accepted into the flowerpot but the Tetras most definitely were not.

Recently Ms Cory discovered a counterpart just beyond one of the glass walls of the neighbourhood. Oh my, wasn't she excited! The new catfish was just as excited as she was, as they zoomed back and forth trying to make contact. A far cry from the taciturn Mr Pleco, this new companion was a most delightful playmate. If only they could breach the wall! It would be so lovely!

Ms Cory gazes at her new playmate, who is barely visible beyond the glass wall,
while nosy neighbours watch

Mr Pleco stands with his back turned to Ms Cory's antics. As far as he is concerned, Ms Cory's new playmate is but a mirage, not to be taken seriously. She will return to the dark safety of the flowerpot soon enough. He simply stands by the main entrance and waits for her.

Bobby - end of an era

Note: I wrote this on August 7. I was hoping to find a suitable photo for this post but never did, and then forgot about it. Only ran across the draft of this post by accident in October.

Yesterday I heard that a man I kind of grew up with died on Saturday. Kind of. Our parents were good friends at one time, they met when they lived on the same street in Toronto. I was just 4 then, the same age as Bobby. He was very worldly-wise in my four-year-old eyes, he knew how to make phone calls and we talked on the phone. He said we would get married when we grew up, and that actually scared me, I am not sure why. 

Once we ran away from home together, he seemed to know exactly where we were the whole time but I was utterly lost. At one point we ended up on a very busy street with stoplights, I didn't have a clue how stoplights worked and didn't want to test them, but Bobby did. Fortunately I was just too scared to be cajoled into crossing that street. We ended up back home in time for supper.

Shortly after that his family moved to Mississauga and a while after that my family moved to Forest Hill Village, then one of the municipalities that made up Metropolitan Toronto. But our parents remained friends and there was a lot of visiting back and forth over the years, we kids were close enough that Bobby once referred to me as his cousin, in a particular situation where I felt in danger and he was putting himself between me and the mean kids.

Bobby's younger sister and I became quite good friends as kids and teenagers. I ended up introducing her to the man she would marry and have a couple of kids with. More water under the bridge and Bobby moved to the US and I never saw him again, although I did hear stories about what he was up to from his sister and younger brother.

I was chatting with Bobby's sister over Facebook when she heard from Bobby's girlfriend that he had just died at her place. Not sure what happened, might have been a heart attack. I asked her if she had any photos of him, today she posted a few on Facebook.

"End of an era!" She texted me. I guess it is. In her family she is now the elder: both parents and her older brother gone now.

It is not so much that I miss Bobby or am sad about his death (I am), as that it brings back so many memories of us as kids. There were eight of us and we did a lot of things together, like family, or at least close cousins. Bobby was definitely something else; his sister said he became eccentric later in life, but I think he was born eccentric.

In the last few years of his life he reconnected with an old girlfriend. He moved back to Canada to live with her. I am glad he found love at the end. His sister said it changed him, for the better.

Politics, heartbeats and stories

The last couple of weeks have been too much. Too much going on, too much I have to do, too much I can't deal with. But I think things might settle down soon.

My pheasant neighbour keeps an eye on things

I lose control emotionally when I have too much to deal with. There have been some not great moments.

 

Song sparrow by the pond

I ran into a couple of writers from my old writing group who urged me to come back, I said I haven't been able to write anything but they said that people would just like to see me. They are still meeting over Zoom, so I said Okay and someone sent me the link to the group meeting.

It was nice, and definitely validating to have my writer friends welcome me back so enthusiastically. I mostly listened, and made a few comments on what I liked. Then there was a discussion about trying to meet in person, various locations and possibilities. I originally stopped going partly because I had nothing to contribute but also because I didn't like Zoom. I still have written nothing but I have changed my mind about Zoom.

While they were discussing different locations I said that I was okay with staying on Zoom, but whether I attended an in-person meeting would depend on how close by it was. Apparently that clinched the deal, they said that if staying on Zoom was the price of having me return, then everybody was okay with continuing on Zoom. I felt honoured. I may not be able to write, but I can critique constructively.

The clinic wanted to teach me a breathing technique that would improve my Heart Rate Variability (HRV) which in turn would improve my health. I had to go to the clinic to learn the technique, using biofeedback. I was a total failure at it. The doctor thought the equipment might be at fault, but it wasn't. He demonstrated what should happen by hooking himself up to the equipment, and it was nothing like what I was getting. Within a couple of breaths he had his HRV under control, whereas mine was way out of control, disappearing off the screen both top and bottom. No control whatsoever. Then he took my pulse and said he thought I had a sinus arrythmia that was preventing me from succeeding.

It was a long trip there and back and I felt like it was a complete waste of time, I was a failure in self control. Well, that's how it feels.

I've also come to realize how political the Accessibility Committee is, and I don't like it. I was particularly upset that my comments at a previous meeting had been completely ignored and something meaningless had been written in. I spent a couple of days getting more and more upset about it and finally sent an email saying I could not accept the draft minutes as currently written. So at the next meeting I was told that they didn't have time to discuss my comments and so they would be deferring the vote on accepting the minutes to another meeting, as yet unscheduled.

I said that I could write a couple of sentences that would be acceptable to me and the committee could read and think about them before the next meeting. I was told that is not allowed. I said I looked it up in Roberts Rules of Order and that was acceptable. So then I was told that we don't follow Roberts Rules of Order, we follow something-municipal-something. I didn't even catch the whole name and had no idea what that was. And here I am severla meetings in and am only just now being told the parameters within which I am supposed to operate? That kind of made up my mind that I did not belong here.

One of the men at the meeting offered to chat with me over coffee about what was going on. I told him that getting stressed out like this was bad for my health so I was seriouly reconsidering. He said he understood how difficult it was but the fact that I refused to accept the minutes as written was a huge statement. And I should be patient. So that's where it stands. Plus there's another reason to stay, I might write about it later. But when I volunteered for this committee I thought it would be the least political of all the committees. It is, but that's how bad it is. The man I chatted with laughed at my comments, he agreed. I met him several years ago, he was just starting his new job in charge of Parks and Recreation. Apparently he wears several different hats within the administration now.