New Eye Glasses

 I've worn glasses for years. They correct for astigmatism, and seeing closely. I've always worn progressive lens glasses, until this time. I decided on bifocals, which don't require finding the "sweet spot" for whatever is being observed. It's a change, and typing at the computer now requires my readers. I can use the bifocals, but they cause an unnatural tilting of my head, and I'm finding the neck strain I would have is gone. Also, my peripheral vision is better. I don't have to turn my head as far to see side road traffic. That would exacerbate my sore neck. Still it's a change, but in the next few years, my ophthalmologist thinks cataract surgery will be required for my cataracts. As of now, I don't have the terrible night vision, or the dullness of light advanced cataracts can cause.  

I Don't Know What It Was, but It Kicked My Butt

I know it was a virus. What kind? Maybe a flu variant, or some other virus, but whatever it was, it made me sicker than I've been in decades. My fever lasted for a few days, and it finally broke with a torrent of sweat, which was an uncomfortable way to wake. Maybe it's my age, or maybe in the past I just soldiered on because work demanded, but this one is requiring doing nothing, resting when not resting, and letting my body heal. My stomach feels as though I tried to do 200 push-ups, which is the result of trying to cough up a lung. The cough is now productive, and the spells are few and far between. 

No, I didn't go to the doctor. I was one more night of unbroken fever from doing so, but saved from dealing with urgent care doctors, or nurse practitioners. They must have a playbook they follow that demands they keep Pfizer, and the other big boys in the money, regardless of how many people they kill. I'm getting to the point even talking to them is a nerve grating experience, and think they probably feel the same after dealing with me. 

So recovery is underway, I plan on doing nothing during the rest of the holidays, will probably sip some bourbon later during the recovery, and avoid any person that had contact with children, adults with children, or has seen them while driving past a school. They carry germs, and have no problem with sharing.

Skills By Observing

I've never built stairs. In theory, I knew how the risers are cut, but never had to cut any. For porches, I'd buy the pre-cuts and make them work. However, my wife doesn't care for the 7 1/2 inch step height, which I understand. The less you have to step up, the more comfortable is walking up the steps. I'd seen risers cut, so I decided to build them myself.

The problem with pre-cuts is the standard height of the steps. To take care of my wife, I decided on a 6 inch tread height for some steps I added on the side of the porch. With our new dog, she wanted a small yard for him to be safe if we can't watch him. So placing new steps, adding some fence, and placing a small gate at the front steps will give him and area for outside, without worrying if he decides to chase the UPS truck. 

I found a site on the web with a calculator for the steps. I knew the rise, and the run didn't matter, since that was a flexible distance. Placing my figures, seeing what was necessary, buying the materials and careful measuring with a framing square, soon yielded the risers. Placing two deck boards beside each other gave me the tread width I needed. The fence is started, and I hung the gate on the two 4 by 4's I concreted in the other day.  

So, the steps are in, without the handrails. That's tomorrows task, if it doesn't rain. Truthfully, I wouldn't mind if it did. Not working like I once did revealed some muscles I forgot. A little Acetaminophen helps, but rest is probably best. I have some more post holes to dig for the fence, and that's not my favorite task.

Never Try This at Home

After removing the cancer cells, and making sure they were all gone by microscopic analysis, the following is the final trimming before stitching.

When it was being stitched closed, it felt like the skin was being pulled from down to my neck.

So far, the pain is minimal, although the stretched skin feeling is still noticeable.

Don't Do This

Tomorrow, I'm having Mohs surgery on my scalp for basil cell cancer. It's the second time I've dealt with this type of cancer, but the first time for Mohs surgery, since my scalp is involved, and there's not much meat to trim away.

The last surgery for the cancer was on my cheek. Since there was plenty to carve, the dermatologist cut out a chunk around a quarter inch wide by an inch long. How deep they went I don't know, but it required several stitches.

Curious about the procedure, I looked it up and learned it requires removing small sections of skin, until microscopic examination shows there are no cancerous cells. Since it only requires deadening the area for the surgery, I'll be awake for the procedure, which lasts until it's done. How long will that be? Until it's done, and I'm hoping it won't take long.

Now for the reason for the title: Don't go looking for photos of the aftermath of the procedure on the internet, if you're to have this procedure. Not only are some of the photos ghastly, the amount of skin removed indicates some people had to have major reconstructive surgery to not look like something from a horror movie.

So, now I'm sufficiently concerned, and will be nervous when they start. Without any feeling, they might literally scalp me before it's finished....maybe they'll give me a sedative. I think I'll ask.

Something I Used To Never Think About

I had a day this week that reminded me of my mortality. The temperature was around 102, the humidity was a little high, and I found the heat was more than oppressive.

I was laying out a long ditch to drain a project. It wasn't hard work, but required a lot of walking. As I worked, I walked slowly, didn't hurry and was methodical in preventing any extra steps.

After I reached about 600 feet from my truck, I realized I needed some water, and the need to stop for a few minutes to sit in the air conditioning.

The distance was farther than I anticipated, and I realized the energy was gone. I'd been hot enough before to know heat exhaustion was setting in, and I needed to do something quickly.

Another employee was checking grade for an excavator one hundred feet away. They were waiting for the off-road dump truck to return for a load of dirt, so the machine was idle.

I motioned for him to go for my truck and bring it closer. He walked away, while I slowly walked to the machine and crouched under the counterweight for some shade.

As I waited for a few minutes, I thought of my brother, and wondered what through his mind during his last moments before heat finally killed him. I knew his angst. I knew his feeling of helplessness, and I knew he went from conscious thought to unconsciousness in seconds. Mostly, I wondered if he was aware of what was happening. There are only short moments between feeling able and the intense exhaustion, where walking becomes a challenge, and the dizziness appears.

Keeping my truck close, and retreating to the ac for a few minutes, when needed, I finished my task. The heat cramps started about thirty minutes later. Supplements helped keep the back cramps from doubling me over, but one in my thigh caused soreness for a few days.

Age brought a feebleness, and vulnerability I wasn't expecting. I don't like it, but I'll accept; and adapt. Where I could once work for long days, weeks at a time, in the intense heat, without any concerns, I now must be very careful, and learn my new limitations.

Carpal Tunnel

I've had the symptoms of a problem with my carpal tunnel for years. I really don't remember when they started, but do remember the "shaking out my hand" for years, to remove the numbness. Over time, some areas of my fingers remained numb. At night, I wake with a pain I can only describe as the throbbing like a toothache in my arms.

A few years ago, I had some tests performed, which revealed I had Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. My family doctor didn't think it was necessary to do anything at that time, except to wear wrist braces at night. They helped, but even braces didn't remove the symptoms.

Last week, after too long of sleep loss due to pain at night, I had some tests run. After they were over, the doctor said: "You have very, very bad carpal tunnel syndrome in both hands.

The tests involved placing probes at various places, and electric shocks. The best description is a series of three, with the first as a tiny jolt, and the final similar to grabbing a spark plug. The doctor even warned me of the worse, which resulted in nearly jumping from the chair. The jolts were severe.

Long story short, some nerves returned no signal, so some of the numbness may be permanent. Surgery is a week Monday for the right hand. After it heals, the left will follow.

After it's over, maybe sleep won't be disturbed any longer, and I can use my hands, without shaking them out ever few minutes to return the feeling.

Time will tell.

I'm Getting Too Old For This Crap

Nothing to add. The title says it all.

Carpal Tunnel Madness

I took some tests a few years ago, after the constant numbness and pain in my right arm led to lack of sleep. The tests were conclusive for carpal tunnel syndrome. My doctor didn't recommend surgery, until I lost strength and started dropping things.

 I bought a wrist brace and it's usually all I need, although I'm constantly shaking my arm to stop the numbness. This leads to the "pins and needles", which is annoying. Since my left hand has the same - although less severe - symptoms, I feel like a laboratory experiment, when I wear the braces, while sleeping.

I don't know why, but even with my wrist brace, I awoke this morning with pain; and it's more than just an annoyance. As the day progresses, I'm hoping it alleviates and turns out to just be "one of those things". If not, and find I'm turning into a zombies again, due to lack of sleep, it's on to Plan B.

What's Plan B.? Telling the doctor I don't share his opinion anymore and they need to do something about this. It's to the point I write for a few minutes, shake my hand out for a few minutes, and go at it again. If he doesn't want to help, I'll find someone that will.

Bleh! I have lots of things to do today and this is pissing me off.

I Went To The Doctor

It was time for my annual checkup. I was a little disappointed, since I gained 8 pounds (according to the arbitrary clothes weight information from the nurse...it's really 5 pounds) and my blood pressure was a little high.

Still, my heart is the normal size, my lungs looked good on the chest x-ray, and I still have some signs of wear and tear on my spine.

Cholesterol, and other blood work data, will be announced the day after tomorrow.

I don't know about you, but age has been very kind in some aspects, and kicked my ass in others. My weight is at the upper end of what's considered healthy, my gerd and cholesterol are under control, and I generally feel good.

On the ass kicked side: I have a multitude of aches and pains due to the unnatural wear and tear on my body; heavy lifting and injuries are not good on a small fellow like me. Where a six plus foot bruiser can lift, or carry much more than me, the effect on me hasn't been good. In my youth, I wouldn't let anyone of size best me in any endeavor.

So, I'm still operating on eight cylinders, although I'm burning a little oil, my timing is off and the transmission has a tendency to slip on hills.

Bleh!

Cold Weather

Yesterday, the high temperature was 34 degrees, which pained me considerably, because I'm a weenie, due to my geographical location. I went home feeling as though I spent the day finishing concrete, which I'm guessing is due to spending the day trying to hide from the cold.( I wasn't successful )

It's 23 this morning and we're to reach the mid 40's, which will be downright pleasant. We pay for the warmth at the end of the week with rain and generally sloppy conditions.

Arthritis

Age is bringing arthritis to my hands. It's not debilitating, but it can add a nagging ache to my finger joints after a long day of using my hands.  It's part of the aging process; especially for someone like me. I've spent a substantial portion of my life having to grip things tightly, such as finishing concrete, or driving nails.

We wear out. Like old cars, something grinds against something else, until the wear causes damage.

Getting old is not for sissies.

Age and Memory

Age brings the wisdom for you to forget what you did to be so sore on Monday. I have no idea, but other than sleep walking through a marathon, there is no explanation.

When The Options Run Out

I'm meeting with a hospice nurse for an assessment of my mother this afternoon. After a downhill run, a weekend of barely responding and watching how the prospect of even moving is a terrible experience, I'm faced with a decision that is mine alone. It's been on my mind for a week and it won't be any easier than when I first contemplated the decision.

I can't describe the importance of now, when it comes to loved ones. There is only this moment and something that seems insignificant, such as a quick phone call, may be the last. You never know and you don't get second chances.

When The Best Decisions Hurt

They evaluate my mother tomorrow. They'll make an assessment of her physical and mental state. I don't know exactly what the final result will be, but I do know some important decisions rest on my shoulders.

My mother can walk up to thirty feet. She can get from a wheelchair to a toilet and visa-versa. She's gained some weight and her appetite (helped with medications) is good. That's the good part.

She can remember certain family members, hold somewhat of a conversation, describe her physical state and eat without assistance. She can't remember five minutes ago. That's not good and removes any self-determination on her part. She will now need constant care and I can't do that by myself. The anesthesia, which was part of the risk, increased her dementia and the doctor said it probably wouldn't get better.

While my mother was able to take care of herself before, with me, or some other family member only at night, those days are over. I don't have the support network required and it's looking more like her next destination will be what's euphemistically known as "an assisted care facility".

So, I'll soon be faced with something I didn't want to face. The decision to take on this responsibility was mine, and I did it willingly when she asked if I would, but it doesn't lessen the hurt.  I'm researching, and weighing the options, but my decision will be completely based on the quality of life she'll have in her last years. While home care may seem inviting, the isolation and lack of constant input from more than one person doesn't seem to have the dignity required to complete her life.

I don't know why I'm writing this, but it seems important. Life is such a finite journey and we can only hope our passing is with dignity and while we're at peace.  Still, there's always that nagging thought that any decision won't be right and will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Crap. Even though I thought I was prepared for this, I'm finding it a little daunting.

When Old Folks Break

My mother fell and broke her hip. The options are:

- Do nothing, which means she'll be bed-ridden, more than likely get bed sores and eventually die from complications of the sores, or pneumonia.

- Screw the ball at the top of the long bone back to the bone, spend weeks recovering and probably not be able to walk, due to constant pain.

- Attach a synthetic ball to the top of the long bone and start aggressive physical therapy within days of the surgery. The typical method is a controlled rehabilitation environment for weeks before considering a return home. This method will allow her to walk.

Her cardiologist says the risks of either surgery are equal, so he deferred to the judgement of the orthopedic surgeon, which suggested the partial hip replacement.

This happens tomorrow in early afternoon. After that, it's a crap shoot, due to my mother's age and her willingness to keep on trying.

The waiting process has started. The results will only be known after it's all over. I can only hope for the best and pray for her relief.

Update: The surgery went well. The surgeon said the surgery is the easy part; rehabilitation is the tough road. She'll be in pain, the therapist will be aggressive and nobody knows how a person will react. While my mother always was a fighter, there's no guarantee she won't throw in the towel for the peace of passing. 

Time will tell. 

If This Doesn't Make You Feel Old...

...nothing will.

As I was checking out at the grocery store, I made the comment to the clerk: "It's too pretty to be working."

She blushed and replied: "Thank you.", which I assume was a response to what she thought I said, which was "You're too pretty to be working."

I was a little embarrassed, since I don't say such things; even if the clerk is pretty.

She went on: "I don't plan on working here forever. I've applied for college."

We went on with small talk about what major she should choose. She was uncertain, since a college degree doesn't necessarily mean success these days.

As the conversation progressed, I mentioned she should go into the Army. She commented on how her fiancee is in the army and had never considered the prospect.

I told her they want smart people and she could retire after twenty years. She didn't reply, so I explained how if she didn't take that option, she would be like me and have to keep working.

She looked at me and replied: "You're not retired?"

I replied, after feeling a little bit old: "Nope. I still have about ten years."

She looked at me like Methuselah had entered her store and replied : "Ten Years?"

What could I say? I just smiled and walked away.

Crap!

CRS Rears Its Ugly Head

I'm not usually obsessed by something that slips my memory, but over the last few days, I couldn't remember the name of the band that Sting was a member.

I thought about it; put it out of my thoughts; I knew it would pop up.......nope.

So, finally I told my wife, who looked at me like I was three years old and asking why women don't have penises.

It's the Police. That's the name, and I'll never forget it again.....until tomorrow. I wonder if I'll remember I forgot?

Advice For Those With Aging Family Members

The tax increases in the near future will affect the elderly much more severely than most know. Increases in taxes from investment income will place a dent in their income. While this may seem like only a worry for the rich, you're wrong. With the terrible rates offered by CD's, many people moved their savings into other investments. When you add the lackluster performance of the stock market, inflation, increased prices and increasing medical costs, those that live on fixed income are facing some rough times.

I know the young have very little idea of what this means. My advice is they do some research, ask their older relatives for suggestions and make strong efforts to change the way the elderly are treated. Sooner or later, they'll be older and will feel the pains of surviving on limited resources with diminishing abilities. How they shape the future will be determined by their involvement with the older population at this time.

Figuring Things Out

Yesterday, at work, I spent a good portion of the day on uneven ground and changes in grade. This morning, when I took the first step out of bed, the dull ache in my leg became a sharp pain from my lower back, across my butt, down the front and back of my leg and around my knee cap. This, from what I've read, is Sciatica, or maybe Spinal Stenosis and it could be a tumor. If I had to describe the pain, I'd say it feels like an ice cold rod stuck through my right femur and connected to a taser.

As I've written: getting old is not for amateurs. If I known this would happen, I'd taken better care of myself when I was younger.