De-friended.

I've already had a lot of fun with this, but it seems a shame to waste it on Facebook. I made a vow to myself to try to get out of my own head and see what's going on and ever since I've noticed so many things and have had some really exciting experiences. I'm grateful, I'm just sayin'.

I got friended by someone I went to high school with on the aforementioned social network site. Her name isn't important. I'm not even completely sure who she is or was, although I think she ran in a flashier social circle than I. That's how it feels to be that age, so I'm not sure. My classmate is married and considers herself conservative politically (!) and has wonderful grandchildren.

My classmate posted some pictures of things she was doing to get ready for homecoming. There were rows of dresses hanging in plastic in long rows. There were tables of boutonnieres and banners hanging and strangely no people at all. Other pictures showed various people, but no one that I recognized. There were pictures of my classmate but they weren't really close ups and so they didn't help me make out how I was supposed to remember her. But what the heck, right? Wait and see.

My classmate seemed sympathetic when I posted about my adveture at the DOT office. That was nice.

Facebook has inane polls which it uses to mine your personal data for sales and analysis. My classmate answered a poll and indicated to one and all that she did not support removal of "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance. I'm not aware that there's anything cooking in this arena -- God removal -- but I'm up for a little discussion.

I'm as big a fan of America as they come, particularly as we seem to have come at least a little to our senses as a nation of late. This Pledge has always bothered me.

I have never been very attached to things as objects worthy of allegiance. It does bother me that the Republic for which it stands gets second billing.

"Under God" was inserted in the '30's or 40's by politicians pandering for votes. One suspects this would be similar to saving Marriage by amending the Constitution.

"Under God" presupposes that we all agree about the Almighty. Religions that evangelize have a natural tendency to minimize the value of other points of view. Because the congressmen were Christian, we are not "One Nation Seeking Nirvana" although undoubtedly some of us are seeking Nirvana, rather than being born again.

Actually our early forefathers were free thinkers, Congregationalists and Unitarians, for God's sake. Their sense of the need for separation of Church and State was palpable.

In 1965, when I used to recite the Pledge, "liberty and justice for all" was just not happening. I knew that. I was a little Unitarian kid.

I commented to my classmate on Facebook that she was reflecting a certain bias. I shared with her my sense of the politicians who inserted God into the Pledge . . . the pandering part.

She commented that I didn't have to say the Pledge if I didn't want to then, did I? I commented that if the Pledge instead demanded that her children stand up every day in school and DENY God, then perhaps she'd feel differently.

And now she is not my friend. Sure was fun. I wonder who she was.

church

Brief update: the visit to Madison was great, in that Dr. Mejicano, who is great and truly worth the price of admission said my wound was "beautiful," and my labs were "great" and explained very clearly what we're watching and why. He treated us as though we were capable of understanding this stuff and in fact we were. I really love being treated as though I'm capable of understanding my own situation, particularly when the news is good.

As I mentioned, my friend and colleague J.J. is hauling me to work when he can, which is every day this coming week, and that's just the thing for my morale. I work better in my office, get more done, and the interaction and stimulation remind me that I'm part of something that I really love. NCCC is a great place to be these days and soon there will be 160 young people running around our quaint little campus.

The campus is very much like a small college and I have to walk back and forth between my building and our 3rd floor administrative office in the next building. This is more walking than I was doing at home and I can feel it. You don't get stronger if you don't push a little and I was defaulting to the not ineptly named La-Z-Boy far to often.

After a good night's sleep it is easier to have hope and not be so impatient. Yesterday, I went to the DOT to try to get my lapsed driver's license renewed before I passed the 60 day limit. Needless to say, I went as Samatello. I checked in at the desk and got my number, sat in a very uncomfortable chair and waited for an hour, only to be asked if I was under a doctor's care. Good guess, Tonto! I said that I was and that I was not currently driving because of my injury, and would not drive until my doctor released me, but that I'd like to renew my license on time. The woman called the manager.

It turns out that if they suspect you are unable to drive, they put you on a list and require that you fill out a long form, and that your doctor fill it out too, in order to get a license. I suggested that had I not come in in good faith they would never have known that I was not driving because of an injury. The manager agreed, and said that now that she knows, they can't help me. She said if I wanted to take a driving test, I could get a license. I reiterated that I was not driving. She reiterated that I could get a photo ID, but no license. I suggested that this was penalizing me for coming forward and wasting my time and damned poor customer service. "You are free to go," she suggested. I had not been aware that I was in fucking custody, but it was a relief to know. I suggested that it would have been nice if the woman at the first desk, seeing the full body brace I display prominently, could have cued me when I hinted by saying "I am here to renew my license" that this might be a futile mission. The manager again offered me the long form.

After a long night's sleep, I can understand that there are some who will continued to drive when they can look neither left nor right. Most drivers regularly encounter able bodied people who seem to have this disability while driving. As a responsible middle aged citizen who hasn't been behind the wheel since June 17th, I resent being treated as though I am one of these people. I would think that showing up on time to be responsible would count for something. What really makes me mad is the limitation, though. I miss the freedom and independence and the idea that now some dimwit who never met me is enforcing something I am compliant with anyway just adds insult to injury (literally). Having done my best irate citizen imitation I took my fiberglass clad somewhat bizarre form out of that den of iniquity, as the speaker recited "now serving number 657."

I understand that one of the lessons I am to learn here is that, as my son said, I am "not invincible." Apparently, I need reminders. One of these days, I'll be a senior person trying to renew my license and some drone is going to figure out that I'm a hazard to navigation and I'll get my license pulled permanently. I request that my friends and family assure that I am not carrying weapons or sharp objects when that time comes. I may not be entirely cooperative.

Easier to have some faith

Facebook is ridiculous in a lot of ways, but a lot of folks from my past have found me, and that's mostly gratifying. For those whose gratification escapes me there is the "hide" button. Yesterday, a woman "friended" me and I had to go look to see who she was. One look at her kids and I knew, she was a girl I worked with when I was a new social worker still working at child psychiatry and then doing street outreach.

I won't recount her story here. I'd probably get it wrong, because I wasn't involved in all of it. She experienced unspeakable trauma and for a while used her wit and intellect to protect her awful secrets and her family. Later she used the same wit and intellect to find herself and to heal. The message from facebook was about how she turned out "okay" and had a family and beautiful children who are safe and healthy. She lives nearby and is a professional who works to help children. I am guessing she's on to most of their tricks. I am sure she gives them much of her very large heart.

I used to have an imaginary house on a hill in my mind with a great big porch and a long grassy lawn, and I populated it with kids I knew who I felt needed to escape from their lives and be appreciated. I supposed it was a mental excercise that allowed me to rescue them, even though I could only do a little in real life.

In the end it's not about rescue, of course. I can do what I do because I've been around long enough to observe that people rescue themselves. They grow stronger and healthier and heal themselves. Like the rest of us, they come to approximate normalcy and often to find the things in they long for - family, love, safety, joy.

She thanked me in her message, and she's welcome. I am a priveleged observer.

Road trip

We're back to Madison for blood (drawn) and twenty minutes with Dr. Infection Control, one George Mejicano. He actually seems to be a very sharp man and is pretty informative. My sedimentation rate and something else are still too high, or were last week, although significantly improved. His job is to get every last one of the bugs that the Ciproflaxin is supposed to kill. My body tells me it's working, but he gets paid to obsess and I'm glad, mostly.

Gets you thinking about what might happen, though, doesn't it? I feel less immune to what might happen than I did this Spring. I'll be happier when the visit with Dr. George is over and I'm walking out, rather than checking in.

I've been back at work for the past two days. A colleague commutes from Cedar Rapids as well and has agreed to let me share gas as he comes to pick me up. What a mensch. He's saving my bacon. (Now there's a sacreligious mix: yiddish, followed by a pork reference. Nasty.) It is great to be back. I have a very nice office and comfy chairs, computer, copier, all the goodies, as well as a sofa to lie down and rest my back on, and permission to do so if need be. Why would a guy NOT go to work?

Because we're on a campus and our administrative offices are in a different building than my office (in the dorm basement, near my people, thank you!) I'm walking a whole lot more than I have been at home. I find I need to rest a while after these jaunts, but I suspect they are just what I need. I can work from home and telecommute if necessary, and I may do so rather than get worn down. Soon our people are coming and we'll have lots to do, so it makes sense to ease back into the groove now.

And, frankly, I'm tired to monitoring my own well being. I would like to expect to be well again, and this requires that I have things to do, to think about, to work on. I fear I'm running the risk of becoming one of those decrepit old goozers who reminisce about their bowel movements and haunt Bishop's, lurking by the cream pie. Get me the fuck off the lazy boy, pretty please.

These days, what I deal with is an ache, not sharp pain, or someone sliced me open pain. It's bone healing pain. I feel it when I remain in a position too long, or after I walk longer than usual. I feel it more as the day goes on. I find changing position, walking, taking short naps, keeping on the Tylenol schedule, and having something to freaking do help a lot.

I am going to have this ache to some degree for a long time, I suspect. On a cold rainy day it may be the cost of doing business. I have it when I stay home. When I go out it goes with me. It says "Why are you thinking about me? Do something."

Cap'n Crunch

Le Fort I fractures
Le Fort II fractures
Le Fort III fractures

Hey gang! I found my facial fracture on Wikipedia. My documentation says I had Le Fort 1, 2, and 3. Good thing I broke my back for distraction.

It's a good day. Caitlin hauled me to Iowa City and I got organized around my lovely consulting gig. I think I may have a lead on getting myself to and from work, at least some of the time. My office is lovely and I can work better there. I have two sofas to snooze on if I wear out, and permission to snooze to boot. Clocking out, of course.

My back doesn't hurt much today. I believe this will be coming and going.

I love the rain and the cool moist air. Open my windows and let the dust and cobwebs out. Off in the corn, I hear the whisper of October.

Woo-hoo!

For the first time yesterday, I entered UW Madison Hospital and left on the same day. Stitches are out, the x-rays look good, see you in a month. If they put that to music, I'd sing it. I was in and out in a couple hours and left behind me the enormous feeling of vulnerability I have been carrying around, most obviously since the second, "do over" surgery. The first hint of this, of course, came when I became involuntarily airborne. Details.

This is Walker's kindergarten graduation picture, one of my absolute favorites. He looks about as delighted as I feel. Give hugs.

Retractions, corrections, meas culpa

It's been a little while since I posted. This is actually good, I think. For one thing, this business of writing about one's self and how one feels all the time can be a bit much. This phase of healing shall be called "enough about me already!" I go to Madison today, tagging along with Geof and Isaac and Bee and they will remove my stitches. I do not anticipate they will keep me, and this is based on some semblance of actual experience, but the fear still lurks, hiding somewhere about mid-spine, that they will. Fear be damned, I am not packing extra.

I have found that working half time, or at least (so far) sitting at my work stating half time waiting for all the right components to show up so I can have a virtual private network, I can manage pretty well. I get sorer as the day progresses, but it's not unmanageable. In fact, it's more managable with reduced pain meds that do not make me feel stoned. You'd think a guy who used to work pretty hard to maintain a buzz would appreciate being stoned on pain meds, but there you go. I guess I like to CHOOSE.

The best and most amusing news has to do with the toilet paper and neighbor confrontation saga. Walker came home from cross country practice the other day with the news that it was HIS friends who had done the dirty deeds, and NOT Bryce, the much maligned neighbor boy. Robyn went over and confessed to the neighbors that they were innocent. I am proud of her. We learned a few things, too.

We learned that the neighbor lady who identified our innocent buddy is not so astute. We know that when things are out of control, identifying local criminals may not be the best diversionary activity. We learned never to discount the capacity of Walker's numbskull cross country team-mates. Ah, karma. Ran over my dogma again!

Think good thoughts. My plan last time was to get the outpatient stuff done and then have my first beer since the wreck. This is still the plan, I think. I hope. Please. It's time to move on. No do overs. Really. I have not pushed limits, I have endured Minerva's determined embrace, I have taken my pills and learned to eat smaller portions, chewing thoroughly. In honor of our old friend Frank, I have glued purple feather to my bum and danced suggestively in the back yard moonlight.

I may continue that one. It was kind of fun.

It's recycled but I like it.

I won't say which friend described me very gently as "pouty" (but her initials are Dede!). Scared is what I was. I don't like to think of myself has helpless. Thinking that way makes for long nights. So what about this makes me different from anyone else?

So Robyn convinced me that trying to go cold turkey off pain meds wasn't sane and a nurse in Madison explained that both the antibiotics I am on make a person prone to nausea (which is you see also an indicator of increased infection) and the gently blunt Dede has offered her magic skills (and it must mean something that I'm going to take her up on this. I'm still uptight but I've been handled by so many strangers lately this'll be a pleasure, I know). A friend from work came by and caught me up. Brought me the chip I'll use to work from home next week. And so it starts to fit together.

If you page back a few weeks there'll be some doggerel about how I'm going to learn somehting meaningful from all this. True and low hanging fruit, that. You don't get to choose what you learn. That's the deal.

Walker's home!

Low

Here's a picture of young men eating after Caitlin's prom. Nice. They didn't get anything on their jackets (and, one hopes, on their dates).

I was very excited to get my wires out and my jaw loosened. I didn't count on my jaw getting used to being closed, or on my brace pushing my lower jaw up, keeping my head back. Ironically, my mouth is now NOT big enough. Chewing is strange because my teeth are not quite where they used to be. Close enough, but I'm not chewing on steak yet.

The endless "recovery" is what is getting to me. I get to thinking I'm feeling better and some test tells me maybe I'm not. It gets to the point that I feel like I can't trust my own perceptions. Am I feeling better or am I just telling myself that. Am a nauseous because I'm still infected by something or is it just the two antibiotics, the pain meds and a relatively empty stomach doing it? If I'm sleepy a lot, is that me healing, or my body telling me I'm not really okay?

The little hole in my back that has been a concern is very, very small and does not seem to really be infected. It's an enormously long scar and it makes sense that it all would not be "perfect." I talked to my boss and I'm going to telecommute part time next week, which will be great. I may try to go there and work as well, just to get a feel for how things will work. I told him it might mean that I end up sleeping for a little while on one of my sofas. He's okay with that kind of break. I'm lucky.

Although I'm not hungry enough, not busy enough, and don't have enough energy. I really do think I'm on the mend. Right now. I'm just incredibly, overwhelmingly tired of being in this process. I can usually will my way through most of life's events. Damn.

Worship is good.

I'm doing some worshiping right now. It's Sunday, after all. Throwing a little worship out your way if you checked in, helped out, offered to help out. Throwing a little good karma back at all of you good karma flingers. I don't have a lot of close family. This must be what that feels like.

We are feeling grateful for the outstanding array of talent, imagination, intelligence and humor you represent. And you appear to be on our side! How fortunate. This has been the first time since childhood when I really needed my people.

And you showed up. Thanks.

Amen.







Amongst the fellowship there has been some controversy. Some of you who have been following our lives through the facebook portal may be aware that we have been t p'd. Caitlin and Walker cleaned it up but really didn't feel as though anyone in their crowds would be doing this sort of thing.
Hey, I'm recovering from surgery! No one's asking me to clean up. Case closed, eh?

I went to bed about 10:00. I'm recuperating. The kids were still out back being good. I was tired. I fell asleep some time after 10:30 p.m. Caitlin came and woke me later to inform me that we'd been t p'd again. I responded "zmoprhg." I looked out, and my kids were cleaning up the mess again! My kids! Wow. Walker said "it's a lot easier now than when it get's dew on it." Wow.


As some of you may know, our neighborhood has some families who have been here a good long time, and we have some homes that are, well, cursed. They sit empty for a long period of time and then someone moves in who inevitably proves to be, well, shall we say further evidence in favor of the curse.

Jackie, who has been here as long as there was a development, lives across the street and is a lawn ranger. She mows twice on the diagonal. An avid mower, she will not let her grown sons mow. One of her sons spends hours and hours out front detailing hiw WR-X. Said twig unable to avoid proximity to well known tree. Jackie was up and saw our next door neighbor kid (from a cursed house) enthusiastically t p'ing our yard. She called Robyn, who was out with her friend, and Robyn called Caitlin. Caitlin went next door and rang the bell until the mother of the house came. Caitlin reported the youmg Bryce had t p'ed our yard, possibly for the second time, and she hoped that their household was now as awake and disturbed as ours was.

Moxie.

The mother said she'd "talk to" Bryce in the morning. However that goes, we have our neighborhood posse on the watch.

I'm smiling, goddammit.

I got a great shareware photo program called Gimp a while back. It lets me take a second look sometimes. In this case, I was poking through photos prior to deletion. We'd been looking at the brace shots in terms of the brace.

That's how I found the picture Robyn took that turned out to be a very lonely silhouette.

This might be an interesting one to turn black and white.





There. What do you think? I had to sharpen it up a little.

I have increasing amounts of energy and decreasing amounts of pain. I've not messed with the original pain dose for discharge. This was a step down from the hospital dose. I think another step down will be in order tomorrow. I'm hungry. As we all know, Tuesday is the day I get to eat again. I hope someone is telling my stomach. I'm trying to keep him busy.

There is still drainage in the bandage, although far less than in the last one. [Nancy, there is still yellow in the mix. Lots of clear and red tinged as well. ] Minerva constantly rides my back, reminding me that I must comply with the expectations of my healers. If this is really the range of motion I was supposed to have (last time), then I was really out of line. Yo. Because Minerva rides my back, I feel freer to move parts of me she does not control. The safe feeling of the law abiding citizen of an authoritarian regime.

Did I mention the wiring in my jaw comes out Tuesday morning? Dang! No worries after that. I'll eat myself back to good health.

We had a campus clean up day with the Braille School staff in Vinton a few weeks ago. We have a huge campus that we all enjoy and there are not enough hands for a good spring clean up without us. We trimmed 100 yards of hedge and in the process revealed a goldfinch nest with two live birdlets and an egg. The goldfinch is a lovely bird, our State Bird, and so the loss of this nest is, of course, a loss to the entire combined communities, Avian and Human. But I digress.

We lowered the nest into the bush farther, but some wily predators had been watching our work. Note to self: you are not as sneaky as a goldfinch. The nest was scattered. There was no sign of the finchlets. The egg sat here in the bush. I think it was already broken when the nest went down. The predators didn't bother with it. After you've had fresh finchlet, day-old eggs just don't cut it.

A number of people ask me whether I will continue to ride a bicycle. I was not really a bike fanatic. What I was doing was training for the BRMA ride. In my mind it was about not letting my physical conditioning exclude me from having fun with my friends. Riding that road trip was a personal fitness goal. If I could ride up long hills and travel 50 miles per day with my some of my best friends, it would be a pretty good start to the summer. I was looking at biking as another way to get the "run" in that I seem to need three times per week in order to stay reasonably trim and somewhat less crabby. Here's one reason I'd really like to get back on the bicycle:

I only could ever ride half way up the long hills before stopping. There the wind sings and the view is spectacular. It is a view of which one feels a peculiar ownership. Perhaps that's from grinding up this far.

I never thought much about the down hill portion, other than associating it with fun, gliding pleasure. I have a pretty nice old racing bike and high pressure tires and I'm a big guy. Downhill and momentum have been my friends.

I think it was the day before I wrecked that I clipped Chris's rear tire with my front one, in town, and ended up on my back with my bike beside me, on concrete.

Oh, I just can't imagine even being in that position now. Oh. I have to go the bathroom.