Countdown, One Day to Go

10-12-2019

We are in Minneapolis at the airport hotel having a very pleasant wait. Esther will be here around midnight, but we get to sleep instead of driving all night! So blessed!

It was cold and snowing for the whole drive down. Winter in October! This is snow on our patio table before we left.

Can you believe it?!

This little get away is great for getting my mind off surgery coming up on Monday. I’m never real excited about being unconcious in the hands of complete strangers who will make painful cuts on my body on purpose. Better not to think on it too long.

Supposed to say “wish you were here” but I suppose some might be wishing you were her too.

We’ve had a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant and I think the husband is about ready to go to bed. New places and experiences are good but really tire him out and leave him feeling disturbed. Nevertheless I’m glad he’s along and not home with only the cat for company.

Tonight and tomorrow will be important times to get rested up for the early start on Monday. I don’t know what to expect post surgery pain to be like. I only hope it will be different from the pain I have now.

In a couple hours I will take the hotel shuttle to the arrival area and find Esther. Hoping she has a good flight. I saw her only briefly last spring and will enjoy this week with her. I hope I don’t have to be waited on too much.

Two nights, one day until I have a different hand. Trusting God to take me through this.

A Night at Intercontinental MSP

Picking up the daughter flying in from Seattle tonight – it only made sense to stay overnight instead of driving home till 4 am. It’s been quite a while since the husband and i had a special night out. This is it.

This is a new hotel, and the only one right at the airport. Two restaurants, beautifully appointed rooms, the feel of luxury. We are enjoying it immensely, although feeling a bit out of place.

There is a wedding party upstairs – and what an easy place to gather for guests flying in just for the celebration.

There is a TSA checkpoint right at the hotel that gets one into the airport via a skybridge. Its only staffed during peak morning hours, but facilitates an easy get away for those early flights.

Very modern, beautiful place with friendly staff. You do pay a price for the convenience but there are times it would be worth it. Just sayin’…

Countdown, Three Days Left…

Today I was thinking of all the things I might not feel like doing for a week, or more (lots more) after the surgery.

There was the furniture moving, for instance. There were some heirloom pieces stored in the barn that I wanted in the house. They were things I’ve wanted to look at and enjoy for a long time – but it was unreasonable to get them to Florida. But now, I’m right here where they are so it was time.

One is a dresser that was in my grandmother’s bedroom for her whole life, I think. The other is her cook stove, a woodburning Monarch that weighs a ton even though it looks small. Years in the barn meant they were dirty. The cook stove even had ashes in the ash box from the last fire – I can only imagine when that was. Doing this kind of cleaning and handling of heavy things is probably why my hands hurt tonight and probably why they are in such bad shape overall. But isn’t work what hands are for? In my world, yes.

I did laundry. I shopped for groceries for next week. I talked on the phone to the pre-op nurse who asked me a lot of questions she already knew the answers to and told me to be at the hospital by 7 am on Monday. The surgery is at 9. I hope that means there aren’t too many people ahead of me, and that I will get home before the day gets late.

I’ve read a couple different accounts of how restricted I will be after the surgery. The video even showed how my hand will be wrapped up and cast. My doctor indicated that I will be in a splint of some kind until my first post-op appointment, when a hard cast will be put on. That will stay on for the next three or four weeks and then I will get a softer, removable cast for another month. My thumb will be immobilized but I think the rest of my fingers will be free to wiggle.

Initially the pain will be eased by the nerve block given during surgery. It must last a day or so, after which I will be switched to oral meds. So no driving while on pain medication. I will be dependent on my daughter to cart me around, if I feel like going anywhere.

One video I watched said that driving would be permitted as soon as I could grip the steering wheel with both hands. My doctor didn’t say differently, but she added that if there were to be an accident, my insurance might not cover it. I would be considered an “impaired” driver because of the cast. I’m thinking I will be less impaired than many others on the road – not going to worry about that.

Three days…

Yes, It Hurts

10-09-2019

A good part of my life has revolved around music and playing the piano. For a few years I even taught beginning piano students and had a studio in my home. A friend and I were pianists for our church as well. Many times she would say “You play today. I can’t do it very well when it hurts this much.” I was in early stages of arthritis in my fingers as well, but I couldn’t imagine how the hurt could be bad enough to keep me from playing. Playing piano didn’t hurt at all, really.

Now, I get it. The last couple of months have been the worst ever. I’ve had flares at times when one or two joints would swell with inflammation and be tender, but lately it’s more than that. My left thumb is the upcoming surgery site, but the right hand is equally painful in the fingers, not the thumb. One finger is swollen so much that I had to go to a jeweler and have the ring cut off of it. Almost everything I do with my hands has some degree of pain associated with it.

I’ve read that the 50% of the hand’s work is done by the thumb. My left hand knows that very well because it’s pretty much useless for holding on to anything that requires thumb opposition. But fingers are so important too. Unfortunately, I don’t think there are good surgical fixes for finger joints. Right now it hurts to:

⁃ manipulate, or lift pots and pans in the kitchen. They are heavy and have to be grasped.

⁃ Fold laundry, especially little movements like turning socks right side out.

⁃ Put on socks and shoes, especially pulling ties tight or pulling zippers on boots

⁃ Hold small objects tightly, goodbye any kind of handwork

⁃ Type, even on sensitive keyboards like my iPad

⁃ Pull the sheets and blankets when making my bed

⁃ Open lids of jars, milk and juice cartons. Most any kind of packaging is not my friend.

Most of the time I plow through these activities anyway because the pain of movement is short lived. But I have progressed into a different stage now where pain occurs out of nowhere, without movement. It is more constant and has a “burning” nature. All of this just emphasizes to me how important hands are to life.

I’m sure having my left thumb fixed will eventually make things better. My doctor said that I will hate her for the first post-op month, dislike her for the second month, and thank her after the third. Reports also say that this surgery is long lasting with good function up to twenty years later. So the countdown continues, five more days.

Countdown to Monday 10-14-2019

It’s evening and I’ve just finished watching a video of a surgery that I’m going to have next Monday. If you faint at the sight of cutting and bleeding, don’t click this link Basilar Thumb Joint Arthroplasty with LRTI, but know that it is a good surgery with a high success rate. It’s also probably the most common surgery done worldwide. It is called CMC arthroplasty and ligament reconstruction. Simply put, if all goes well, they are fixing my painful thumb joint.

I’ve encountered a number of people who have arthritis in the basal thumb joint so I know it is common, especially among women. I want to do a few posts on this experience, mostly to inform, but also to work out the pain of the recovery period. Writing is helpful to me when I’m in pain or stressed because it ascribes purpose to what I’m going through. I hadn’t heard of or considered this surgery until a couple of months ago and there might be others, in the same situation, who will find my account helpful.

It’s not known why some people get this problem and others don’t. My thumb pain started several years ago. I have treated it with NSAIDs, with cortisone injection, and with platelet rich plasma (PRP) injections (a precursor in the stem cell therapy family). Of all these, the thing that has been most helpful is the thumb brace recommended by the PRP therapist.

A large part of my problem has been the loosening of ligaments that normally stabilize the thumb. Loose ligaments have allowed more movement and that causes more pain. The Push thumb brace holds my thumb firmly in place and keeps that joint stable – it’s been protecting me from the most unbearable pain for two years now. I have recommended it to others and they have also loved it.

Unfortunately, the pain is now more constant and not only the result of movement. It is time for a more permanent fix. The surgery is outpatient, but it will be with general anesthesia. I’m not allowed to drive myself home so my youngest daughter has generously arranged to come and help with the day of surgery and the first week. I’m hoping the fun of her visit will greatly distract me from what my poor hand will be feeling.

Check back tomorrow and I’ll describe what medical science has come up with in this remarkably successful procedure.

Family, Festivals, Fire Trucks

10- 5-2019

It is blustery, rainy and cold today. The electricity went out mid morning. My brother is visiting and we had planned an early breakfast outing to Delta Diner but gave it up after thinking on it. The weather wouldn’t keep the place from being busy, but it would mean we would have to sit in the car waiting for a table. We always have to wait there.

This is October, month of Cranberry Fest (today) and Apple Fest (all weekend in Bayfield) and the area is hosting people from all over. Some just come to see the fall colors which have not disappointed, in spite of rainy weather. Hayward is a destination. For us, family is the draw.So, we gathered one by one in Mom’s living room while it was still dark.

I’m first. Like Mom, I usually can’t sleep much past 5:30 so I get up, dress, make a cup of coffee and peer out towards Mom’s condo. She turns on her outside light when she’s up, just to signal that she’s alive and okay. Today I managed the short walk in the rain with my cup of coffee and the umbrella, my coordination challenge for the day.

Dennis, my brother, was next, raincoat and hood in place. Somehow he had managed to keep his toast from getting rained on, and he graciously chose the wooden rocker, saving the recliner for his older brother. Gary came out of the guest bedroom a few minutes later and we sat, three siblings and Mom, talking about life and the world. I’ve come to love these times, whether we are two, three, four or all six.

Deciding we would be happier making our own breakfast was fairly easy. The night before we had gone to a notable fish fry at a resort in the area. I say “in the area” when it was actually as much as 20 miles away. It was so busy the host couldn’t even determine what the wait time would be. We left. It was not a total waste of time because the drive was beautiful, and we did find another fish fry, as good or better, and were seated immediately. I’m learning that life is like this when you live in a tourist town – be it in Florida or Wisconsin.

The rain and wind continued even later as we sat around the table. We had finished our blueberry pancakes, eggs and sausage, and fruit salad when the place went dark. Strangely, we had been talking about things like the power grid going out and how we would handle that. It seemed appropriate for us to think about it more.

The husband and I are back home now, wondering why there is a fire truck and more than usual commotion next door. It is a blustery, rainy day – a good day to stay home, which I intend to do. Just sayin’…

Autumn and Family

A past Thanksgiving in the place that is now my home.

I’m not sure I can blame it on the season, but there is something about fall that makes me miss my family in far away places. Sitting here at breakfast with the husband, I even miss our  family members that live down the street. Maybe I’m thinking longingly of Thanksgiving gatherings. Maybe it’s the thought that the long winter is coming and we should see people now, before travel gets risky. Maybe it’s because life is so obviously changing for all of us and I feel the need to KNOW how it’s affecting everyone.

We do a lot of sitting and talking. Good stuff.

Mom and I were sitting in her living room, doing our sunrise chat one day this week. She brought up the fact that many of our southern family members had moved recently. They were in houses she had never seen, so she didn’t know how to picture them at home. We started reflecting on how much better we know someone if we have visited them in their home – or at least we think we know them better. We know where they sit to relax, where they stand to talk on the phone, where they let their cat in and out, where they set the table for a meal. We know a lot of things, if we’ve been there. 

This topic is also on my mind because it was just a year ago this summer that we moved.  For quite a while friends and family didn’t know where to picture us. Even scarier, we didn’t know where to picture us. We were kind of floating and fitting in. A year into being Hayward residents, I feel like we are gradually setting our stamp on our home. There are beginning to be ways that it reflects who we are, our interests, our activities and priorities. As that happens, I feel the need to be known.

I am grateful today, for all the times I’ve been able to visit friends and family in their homes. I’m grateful for the times I’ve been able to host them in my abode. Those sharing times add to my awareness of their personalities. I know the ones who find minimalism comforting, and the ones who surround themselves with ALL their treasures. I know who is handy with tools, who loves creative touches, and who spends most of their time outdoors. I love knowing these things.

 And since this is Saturday sabbath, I have to consider that God is leading me to think about what I consider my “real home”. What will I find there and in what style am I getting ready to decorate it? From what I have seen of God (who I believe came up with the idea of home and family), the good things here on earth are meant to show us, in a small way, what he will let us experience in the future. He is such a hopeful God. 

I know not everyone is comforted by their knowledge of family togetherness. Some have never known a family. Some would like to forget what they know of family.  If that’s you, I want you to know that when it is done God’s way, family is wonderful. My family experience is not perfect – no one’s is, but even the hard and sad times have purpose. They create a holy longing for the perfection that will come when God makes bad things good again. I think it’s that simple, maybe. Just sayin’… 

Why? Just… why?

I am not into “cat think” yet, unlike people in the cat litter marketing video I’ve watched about ten times.

I try. Take today for instance. I imagined I had run around outside chasing things, getting tired, perhaps tasting raw frog or feathers. Then I came inside and took a nap in a really warm room for hours, perhaps a little mouth breathing. I wake up and I imagine I’m getting really thirsty.

Why would I walk past this

And do this instead?

Why? Why?

The Shadow, Renamed…

Most people my age have had numerous pets of their own, and also have had their children’s pets to contend with. In addition to that, I have a soft heart for strays of all kinds and have successfully passed the gene on to my daughters. I have grandpets. I truly know the joys and sorrows of pet ownership. Most people my age could live very well without any more pets, thank you.

But there was this small cat, barely out of its kitten hood, that my brother and his wife found. It was under their car as they were leaving a graduation party this spring, mewing pitifully. It was skinny, wet and cold, probably hungry. And it was black. For some reason, being black is a strike against a cat. They are least likely to get adopted once they are abandoned. My brother tried but could not find the owner and since the cat was overwhelmingly friendly, they took it home.

More than that, they had their vet look the little creature over and give it some drops for its eyes and an appointment to be spayed. It was litter trained already and acted grateful for a warm bed, food and people petting it.

This is where I came in, thinking that the husband might enjoy having a cat to pet and take care of. He’s retired and spending a lot of time at home without much to do. He’s gotten attached to cats in the past. It seemed reasonable. And the first few days, when the cat was tired and half starved, were peaceful days. And then it got frisky.

Now, several months later, I am very much reminded of what cats do. I have wiped up mounds of semi-digested cat food from the carpet. I have awakened in the middle of the night to find the cat sleeping on my chest. I have taken to smelling any pile of laundry left on the floor for the all too familiar odor of cat pee. I frequently walk around the house feeling like the cat is tied to my leg with string, trying not to trip over it. I sneak to doors and try to get through them before the cat hears me. I could go on – you’ve all heard about cats, if not experienced them yourselves.

So Shadow, as my niece named her before I took her, finally got well enough to keep her surgery appointment. We thought she might be in heat because of the way she kept running to open windows and trying to get through the screens. It was hard keeping her inside. I was glad she was getting spayed.

The vet called later that morning. “You have a very lively cat”, he told me. “She’s unusually active (which made me wonder what kind of fun they had anesthetizing her) and it took a little longer than we had anticipated. Oh, and by the way, we couldn’t find any female organs. She must have been spayed already. We looked extensively to make sure so she’s going to be pretty sore for a while.”

She was. There were a few more peaceful days until she had recovered somewhat. I cautiously let her go outside to sit in the sun. That’s what I would have liked to do if I were a cat. I would leave the sliding doors to the patio open just enough for her to squeeze through. She was definitely an indoor/outdoor kind of cat, who loved both worlds. She came running when I called her and loved to nap inside, but was just as eager to get out again.

It wasn’t long after that when I realized what she was doing outside. She was hunting. One morning I found a mostly dead mole, inside the house. I found him by following the trail of blood spatters on the floor and wall. It had to have been a tortuous way to go. This was followed in short order by several frogs who also bled and lost body parts. I got suspicious of her antics any time she seemed to be having fun “playing” with something.

I knew her skill was increasing one day when she brought in a bird. She had it cornered under a bookshelf and I was able to rescue it. It was so tiny and had a numb, dazed look in its eyes. I took it outside, wondering what to do with it, when it flew away!! I had saved it! I wish I could have done the same for the next two she caught. But I had to wonder… how is she catching birds?

We were having dinner on the patio one pleasant evening. The cat was also out and we were watching her tear around the lawn. Without hesitating she aimed at a tree and went up it like a squirrel to a fairly high branch. Hugging the dark branch, with leaves all around her, she was hard to see. I think that’s why the large flock of sparrows flew into the tree all around her and perched – poor unsuspecting things. So now we know she doesn’t wait for them to come down. She goes up and gets them.

This brings me to today. This morning Shadow brought in a small grey mouse and let it get away. She was waiting patiently by the couch where it had fled for shelter, waiting for it to come out and play again. I got down on the floor with the flashlight and witnessed it scurrying back and forth, trying to find a safe escape route. Definite mouse panic. I felt sorry for it, but what could I do? I couldn’t get under the couch either.

I don’t know where the mouse is. I came in the living room this afternoon to find the recliner upside down – the one the husband usually sits in. He’s doesn’t know where the mouse is now either, but he’s pretty sure it was in/under the chair. I think we now have two house pets.

Do I hope the cat will catch the mouse? I can’t quite decide. But I am renaming her. I’m calling her Shadow of Death because it fits her very well. Just sayin’…

I’ll Pray About That

“You can do more than pray after you have prayed; but you can never do more than pray until you have prayed.” A.I. Gordon

I sat for a while this morning looking at my prayer board (yes, I have one) and praying (yes, I pray) and being grateful for the wealth of friends I’ve been given. Of course there are family members up there too, but they are also the best of friends. My life has been changed in some way by each and every one of the relationships represented by the notecards tacked up on cork. I can look at them and remember the times and circumstances. I feel rich.

Not everyone on my board thinks like I do, believes what I believe, votes like I vote – you get the idea. I know that God created them all, loves them all and for some reason (not always one that I know) has given them to me to know and care about. Caring about them, and praying for them, changes me. I feel it happening every time I sit here.

It’s more than just a walk down memory lane too. What I have in common with “my people” is that we are all trying to make it through this life and figure out why we are here. When I pray I believe I’m talking to the only one who knows that answer. I ask him to move us all closer to knowing and understanding our purpose. Knowing and understanding our real identity. Knowing and understanding that there is a good plan. Move us all, one day at a time. I don’t even have to know who has it figured out and who doesn’t. (Frankly, I believe anyone who thinks they have it figured out… well, they’re wrong. No one has it all.)

And the prayer board is just a start. Every day two or three more people come to mind.

If you’re my friend or family, I’m praying for you.

If I’ve had an interesting conversation with you, I’m praying for you.

If I’ve stayed in your home, or you’ve stayed in mine, I’m praying for you.

If we’ve had an adventure together, if we were childhood friends, if you grew up with my daughters, if you live in my neighborhood, if you read my blog, I’m praying for you.

I’m not sure what you need most but I’m praying to the God who does.

I can’t promise you a miracle, but considering who I’m talking to, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit. Just sayin’…

“Talking to men for God is a great thing but talking to God for men is greater still.” E.M. Bounds