Tag: health stuff

Chocolate truffle tea and the most interesting cat in the world

Learning how to fall takes an unexpected amount of courage, if you happen to be a person who has a lifelong commitment to not falling.

In the normal way of things, if I feel myself start to fall, I will twist, and grab at anything to stay upright, which usually, yes, Just Makes It Worse.

Steve — who wrestled in high school — would say, “Just fall,” like that was something any sane person would do. The ground, my child, is hard. I know this because I’ve fallen on the ground and I never, ever want to do that again.

Which, honestly? Is probably not a goal that’s within my grasp, if I’m going to persist in this Getting Old(er) thing.

So, today at PT? I Just Fell. Onto a (slightly) padded platform, into walls, and doors, into my therapist. Someone else who was taking PT at a station near us said that I reminded him of when he had taken parachute training — “If you roll after you hit, you’ll be OK.”

Eeek.

Also?

Ouch.

Lunch is heating up, and I do believe I’ll be having aspirin with that.
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First taste test. Chocolate Truffle Tea, which smells terrific.
. . .
So, the chocolate truffle tea is … interesting. The taste is dark, or maybe I mean heavy, and a little bitter, like baking chocolate. Not quite what I’m looking for in a “chocolate tea.” It’s drinkable, but I won’t be ordering a full tin.

In other news, I’ve spent the last hour pinned under a coon cat, who was doing her damnedest to put me to sleep, and, yes, she succeeded.
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Things I have forgotten to mention today Part One:

For those still interested in yesterday’s discussion regarding characters and lit’rachur, and all like that, you will at this link, directly under my post, find the Cereal Theory of Writing from our very own djonn. It’s worth reading and a worthy Working Theory
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Things I forgot to mention today, Part Two:

If you’re not following David Mattingly’s diary of his career you really ought to do so. As you know, David did many, if not all, of the covers of the novels we did for Baen. I think that’s 25 covers. David is not painting anymore, and has turned to writing as an outlet for creation.

You can read past entries and/or subscribe here
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And, finishing up!

A photo of Rookie doing his impression of The Most Interesting Cat in the World:

Between the Tree and PT

Wednesday. Grey, breezy, and chilly.

So! I wrote a fun 1500 words on the outtake novella. Always nice to go for a walk in a garden with Val Con and Miri and talk with a Tree.

FedEx managed to deliver my tea to the correct address, and now I am wealthy in Russian Caravan, four sample tins of chocolate teas (I know, I know, but I live in hope of finding a chocolate tea that actually tastes good, and — samplers!). I also bought a six-pack of tea pearls, because tea pearls are cool and not because I can afford to make them a daily thing.

The USPS swears my Penzey’s order is out for delivery, though the whereabouts of tshirt remain a mystery. Is it in California? Is it in Connecticut? Has it vanished down the guts of a mail sorting machine in Malaysia? Is it occupying some temporal space beyond the ken of mere mortals?

Well. These matters are for later.

For now? Physical Therapy calls.

What mysteries are visited upon your day?

Boldness is all

Thursday. Dim, damp, and cool.

I am returned from mammogram and breakfast. Planning on making cinnamon bread later in the day, but first, I at least ought to go back to Steve’s office and see what’s going on with Jethri.

Many thanks to those who offered the information that their PCPs have told them that they won’t need mammograms after 75. As a breast cancer so-far survivor, I’m thinking mammograms are going to remain a part of my life, no matter the birthday.

I watched all 10 episodes of Murderbot Season One yesterday afternoon, so obviously I found them worth viewing. I think the books are funnier, and I can see how the — adapters? Is that what we call people who make books into shows? — the adapters felt like they needed to bludgeon viewers over the head with the secondary Trust Crisis, and twist tails with the Narrow Escape of the POV(tm), but those decisions didn’t work that well for me. Though it did give Gurathin room to grow into his next level (which he also does in the books, but it’s a more subtle process).

I did like the glimpses into Actual Episodes of “Sanctuary Moon,” and the decision to capitalize on the lessons Murderbot took from the show. I did, perhaps unworthily, think that the adapters ought to have put their entire attention on producing “Sanctuary Moon” — which I would totally watch — because they were clearly having way too much fun with it.

And now? Back to the office to see if I’m working today.

Who else is planning on baking today?

Proceeding in a Tuesdayish Direction

Tuesday. Trash and recycling set out and collected. The recycling bin is back in the garage. Breakfast was leftover leftover soup. Lunch will be … something.

Eleven hundred new words today, bringing the WIP to something approaching 53,490 words.

I was craven yesterday and did not attempt the Anthropic mess, so I have something to look forward to.

Tonight is needlework, and I’ll have to stop at the grocery on my way home — or perhaps I’ll do that tomorrow, since I have to be out early to a doctor’s appointment, anyway.

It occurs to me that it might be beneficial to find if there’s a sauna someplace near at hand. It might help with the ongoing aches and pains. I should also try to locate a reputable massage therapist. This is not a new thought, but every time I have it, I get overwhelmed by the “reputable” part. Well.

Oh. And I really do need to get a flu shot.

The cats are giving me a little more freedom today, so I’m guessing whatever it was that concerned them yesterday has passed off, so that’s good.

How’s everybody doing today?

Cats inna meeting:

 

Wednesday doin’s

Wednesday. Hot and sunny.

Much has happened already.

The lawn guy was here at the crack o’breakfast. Rookie the Cookie has been to see his vet for his annual exam, and a three-year rabies shot. I have, with only a moderate expenditure of swear words, managed to install the two “safety hook and eyes” I purchased yesterday at the hardware store. Nails…

Nails are unexpectedly difficult. I shall need to take advice.

After Installation, I had a cup of tea and a cookie and just now as I was cleaning up the tea station, I dropped and broke the tiny ceramic saucer that acted as a used tea bag holder, because of course I did. Argh.

I still need to make some tuna salad, so it can be part of the luncheon salad, and I need to tidy up a bit, because the home health nurse is arriving “this afternoon” to make sure that I still know how to draw a clock face.

Rookie is pronounced by his vet to be perfectly gorgeous and in good health. He has apparently decided to hold at 13.2 pounds for the moment, though we all agree that his paws — Labrador paws, says the vet — might still predict a growth spurt. He is only two years old, and Maine coons aren’t officially Grown Up until they’re five.

I went to PT yesterday about my balance. Not that I’m falling, but I’m catching myself catching myself, if that makes any kind of sense. The evaluation was … fascinating. Indeed, I do have an imbalance. When I close my eyes with my feet together and try to Just. Stand. There? I sway to the right. Also, my hips and ankles could stand to be stronger. I have exercises, of course, and a promise that I will be taught to fall. This will be a great boon, because, historically, my reactions have been too fast (which was also proven yesterday), and my objective is always to not fall. Which usually results in more damage than if I had just let gravity have its way with me.

I am, so I’m told, in really good shape for an Old. My walk is brisk and firm, my overall balance, as long as I don’t have to close my eyes, is really good, and, absent the need for work in hips and ankles, reasonably strong. I’m not sure what to make of all this excitement about my general “good” shape. Steve and I used to walk for hours, miles and miles; and I walked All Over Baltimore City. I’m nowhere near in that state of lean meanness. OTOH, I suppose one must account 26 against 73.

I’m expecting I won’t be doing much, if any writing today, what with the uncertainty regarding the arrival of the nurse.

So! I’d better be about making some tuna salad.

What’s for lunch at your place?
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And! The visiting nurse arrived while I was just finishing the tuna, so that’s done, and now I can move on to lunch and maybe getting with planning my course.

Catching up Sunday

Sunday.

So I figured I was hale enough to do the shopping, which I was. I bought two different kinds of protein shake (so I can perform a taste-test), along with other needed supplies, along with Sanpelligrino Lime, and so-called ginger ale. Didn’t ginger ale used to Actually Have ginger in it, rather than “ginger flavoring”?

Though I was fit enough to get the shopping done, I am now, I suppose predictably, exhausted. Had some pudding after I got everything put away, and listened to a couple chapters of Salvage Right, which — writing a character with PTSD isn’t easy, but I think we did a credible job. Also? I do so love Seignur Veeoni.

In a couple, I’ll start the oven to heat lunch, and then I think I’ll concentrate on bookkeeping and mundane desk work, and correspondence.

The cats think I should take a nap, and they may be right, but, if that’s found to be the case, it will be after lunch, not instead of lunch.

How’s everybody doing?

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I see I forgot to update yesterday.  Herewith, the cold news from Saturday:

A break for PT homework and to throw a load of towels into the washer.

This morning, I have been in the comfy chair in my office, Sitting With The Big Ideas. I have Notes. I have an inclination toward More Notes, so I’ll head back to the comfy chair after I finish this note and collect a cookie as my reward for doing my homework.

I’m working with notes that go back to 2022, at least, trying to identify recurring themes. I wish to honor Steve’s vision for what were his character and story, far more than it was mine. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

I had early cat assistance, but just before I broke for homework, Tali and Rook decided that I was well in hand, and took themselves off to Steve’s office to recharge. I know they’re recharging because they’re curled up in the plentiful sunspots.

On the health front, I have this morning decided not to take naproxen, which is really not something you want to be taking all the time, even given anti-nausea meds. So far, I’m maintaining at a whisker over ignorable levels, so that’s Good. Naproxen does have a long half-life, so I’m guessing any increased discomfort will start showing up this evening.

Interestingly, for values thereof, while I can concentrate on the WIP, and am doing good, sharp work there, for anything else, it’s an extremely fuzzy day in the neighborhood. I hate feeling stupid, OTOH, pay copy is being written and/or plotted, so — onward.

Looking at next week — The 1:45 showing of Hadestown on Monday, needlework, and on Friday, which would have been Steve’s 76th birthday, a morning nature cruise on the Messalonskee, if it doesn’t rain. Maybe, if I can keep to current levels, I’ll actually be able to get my hair cut by a professional some day next week, and before I take a pair of kitchen shears to it.

How’s Saturday treating you?

Saturday’s editor:

Prince Siegfried and the Black Swan

Friday.

Watched the 2010 Swan Lake last night (aka “the Swan Lake for our times”), after I decided that the production I was offered–The Velveteen Rabbit– was taking too much of my limited store of patience. My state of mind might have come over to Swan Lake, which was … not riveting, but certainly watchable, and I did watch it. I did not at all like the man who danced Prince Siegfried, and found the Black Swan much more compelling than the milquetoast–ahem–White Swan. Still, it took my mind off my problems for a while, so that was a thing.

Had a bad night, despite the best effort of cats, and only this morning realized that I have an answer to the problem of wanting to put heat on my back during the night. I have two heated throws, one of which now joins the bed furnishings.

Got grumpy on an email list, did PT homework, ate breakfast.

Wrote +/-660 new words, bringing the WIP entire to 30,145ish words. I’m still subscribing to the Write What You Know then fill in the scenes that are left mode of writing, and this morning I did leave a space for a chapter that has to be there, but the guys in the cellar haven’t gotten me the deets yet, and went on to write a scene I didn’t know I needed, until I looked at what my fingers were typing.

The cats were Very Pleased that I decided to join them at work, and they are still in Steve’s office, taking in the air from the sliders. I’m increasingly glad that I had the French windows replaced with the Andersen sliders. Yes, they were heart-stoppingly expensive, but the entire household is made glad by their presence.

I need to do my duty to the cats, then find something to eat. After, I intend to find someplace comfortable to sit-or-lie-down and try to work out some of the WIP’s future bits. I’m really enjoying the daily writing momentum. I’d like to preserve it, if I can, and give the whole Descent into the Slough of Despond a miss this time.

It’s a good plan.

How’s your Friday shaping up?

First time

So, I’ve been seeing clips forever from the Royal Ballet Company’s production of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” and really enjoyed every one.  It occurred to me yesterday that there must be a Whole Ballet streaming Out There Somewhere, so I went looking, finally finding it on Marquee, which I was able to subscribe to through Prime, and get seven! free days.  Since “Alice” was leaving the service in 11 days, this seemed like a message from Euterpe, and I signed up.

I watched it last night, with Tali and Rook’s interested support.

Rookie’s Interested Support:

It was?  Amazing.  The very first ballet I’d ever seen.  Since I still have six days, I’m inspired to watch more.

And that?  Brings us to!

Wednesday

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
From every golden scale.

How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spread his claws
As he welcomes little fishes in
Through gently smiling jaws.
–Lewis Carroll

Someone yesterday had said they’d never read Alice, and my wonder is, how did you manage to avoid it? And what did you make of the metaphors that, in my childhood at least were Everywhere.

I don’t think it was assigned school reading, though we were surely tasked with memorizing poems from the text. I particularly remember a poster of Alice talking with the Caterpillar, Your Viewpoint is looking over the Caterpillar’s shoulder, as he sits tall on his mushroom, hookah at his side, looking down at the girl who has grabbed onto the edges of the mushroom, trying to pull herself up — with a certain amount of success, as her shoes are slightly off the ground. I’m not sure what that poster was telling us to do, though I remember another, of the Cheshire Cat’s head and the word IMAGINE! beneath.

For my Ballet Conscious people — a question. How broad is the vernacular in the Royal Ballet’s “Alice?” I could follow it easily, but I know the story. How lost would I be, do you think, if I attempted a ballet wherein I didn‘t know the story?

. . .though, while I have this seven days of grace, I may well view “Swan Lake,” of which I’ve only seen bits. And, again, I know the story, and the music.

All that said — Frequent auditors of this space will recall that I swore off superhero movies, but last night I broke my word. That woman danced for two hours with only two intervals, which were certainly not long enough to count as “rest.” Eeep.

And now to find something to eat for breakfast.
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And in the realm of We Live in a Random Universe, the judge approving the Anthropic judgement is named Araceli Martinez-Olquin.

Back when I met Steve, he and his friend Drew had just started a business called Araceli Kari. As far as I ever knew, these were coined words meant to be easy to remember and also alien-seeming without being difficult to say. (Araceli Kari’s primary mission was to produce a newspaper — The Starswarm News — which reported from the Alterverse (fiction. Mostly.) and also featured New Science (fact). Steve roped me in to help him write classified ads from said Alterverse, which is where we found out that we could, and willingly did, collaborate.

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I wrote about 550 words, and may get back to it later.

Broke for PT homework and changing the water filter in the fridge, which has only been begging attention from the householder for the last two weeks.

Am trying to build a modified pillow fort on the couch, which may make it … less painful to watch television, and possibly even to write. Or at least be able to read. I really want to finish reading Horngard.

I do need to find something to eat, which is being annoyingly difficult to come to terms with.

I am going to buy a ticket to “Hadestown” — Monday coming. All that remains is to decide which show. If I have to stand at the back, it won’t be the first time.

And I think that’s the news — a little sparse, but some days are like that.

Hope everybody’s having a pleasant Wednesday.

Tuesday morning

I wrote new words. Eleven hundred new words, in fact, bringing the WIP entire to 27,888. So that’s a thing.

Yesterday’s visit to the walk-in clinic was both lowering and interesting. Interesting: The walk-in clinic Does Not Prescribe pain relief medication. They do prescribe muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

The PA sent me to the hospital for an x-ray of my back, just to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently broken something since the last time my back was x-rayed. As I had not broken anything, I was given a prescription for muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

Since one is strongly discouraged from taking T3 and muscle relaxants, I have broken into the (still in date) naproxen left over from last year (because now I have anti-nausea medication, in case naproxen turns ugly), and took the first dose this morning. The muscle relaxants are to be taken at bedtime, and I perhaps have seen a slight lessening of the pain — well. I was able to write new words today, and do all of the PT homework, instead of just the Good Parts, so, yes, muscle relaxants had an effect.

I have also unearthed a crazy little hand massager (a big plastic marble in a holder) that I’ve been running firmly over the hurtin’ bits, and also still with the lidocaine roll-on (yes, I know about lidocaine patches. Have you ever tried to put a goopy, floppy, patch on your own back? Sticks to itself. Sticks to your hands. Sticks to your clothes. To your back? Not so much. And that’s without mentioning the necessity to twist around with an aching, spasming back, trying to get the fool thing in place.)

The clinic’s diagnosis (this is the “lowering” part of the program) is bone spurs, aka “small anterior osteophytes” and “mild mid thoracic spine spondylosis,” which is age-related, degenerative arthritis, and therefore nothing to be done, save what I’ve been doing, and wait for the flare to ease up or I manage to increase my ability to ignore pain.

(Aortic atherosclerosis was also noted, as an aside. This is not New news, and aside from being separate from the reason I was at the clinic, I’m thinking it wasn’t mentioned verbally because the plaque level hasn’t reached the Magic Number yet.)

Onward.

Ellen Richmond is yesterday’s hero. She brought me to the clinic, the hospital, CVS, and picked up the prescriptions. Later in the day, Beth and Steve Symonds stopped by to replenish the cookie supply, which was much appreciated.

I now need to figure out something that looks like lunch, and whether or not I’m going to take a nap, after.

Rookie is clinging like a clingy coon kitten, which–he really is too big to curl up between my cheek and my shoulder, but he’s doing it anyway.

So, there’s my news.

What’s your news?

Short catch-up and apology

Abject apologies for having gone dark.

Short form is that I can’t totally get ahead of the back situation, though I even took the Unprecedented Step of asking the PCP for strong drugs.  Which work, to a point.  But not, alas, to the point necessary for peace, harmony, and getting any work done.

Tomorrow morning, a kind friend will be taking me to the walk-in clinic (which is absurd on the face of it, the walk-in clinic being about two miles from my house, but — strong drugs.  And back spasms.), where it is my very great hope that they will be able to provide something that (1) works to stop the more-or-less constant muscle spasms, and (2) doesn’t have the side effect of making me sick.  Though (2) is becoming less desirable as (1) takes on more necessity.

Aside the Constant Complaint Thread that’s been running on Facebook, below is probably the only notable thing I’ve said in three days:

Last night I finished listening to Accepting the Lance, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens. May I just say that, while I vividly remember writing the scene where the Agent of Change is taunting Val Con — during this, my first reading of the novel as a novel, I was particularly struck by what the Agent chose to taunt him with.
“Vulnerable…so very vulnerable.” “We have seen it — cut one and the other bleeds. Kill one. Both die.”
In fact, he’s being taunted for having connections. For being human.
Wow.
Epic storytelling, past me-and-us. And truthly truth, as well.