Hospital!

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

wpid-20140926_151406.jpgRelax.  I’m not announcing an accident or illness.  Once again, up in Jacksonville, I’m checking in on the lady veterinarian who now has a new, additional workplace.  She is still all about horses but doesn’t want to get out of touch with the smaller species either.  Enter, the Oceanway Animal Hospital and it’s friendly staff.

I came on a quiet, Friday afternoon and was able to sign up for the afternoon tour with guide Stephen.  He was manning the front desk, phone, delivery door, etc… and was able to do it all while giving me the tour.  He is a biology major in his junior year and still relatively new to his job.  I think this may have been his first tour.  He seemed a little surprised.

Stephen, hard at work.
Stephen, hard at work.

Like many smaller animal hospitals, I thought this one could have been a house at one point.  We walked through the various rooms and were back in the reception area in about five minutes, well… maybe three.  But all the necessities were there – exam rooms, lab area, med room, kennel, surgery, x-ray, kitchen.  Stephen and I had a little chat while waiting for Dr. Julia to finish with a patient.   There seemed to be a lot of laughing and talk going on in the exam room so I assumed it was a happy visit.

Dr. Julia took a moment for my requested photo op before starting on her next client, a large orange, tiger-stripe cat who had arrived in the arms of his owner.  People love their cats and dogs.  I’m sure it will be an interesting place for Dr. J. to work, and it might come in handy at some point since she has her own dog and three cats.

"Real doctors treat more than one species..."
“Real doctors treat more than one species…”

What Is That Smell?

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

“The carpet is dirty.” she told me, wrinkling her nose. She was a prospective renter for a condo we manage.

“No, actually, that’s the color it is.  Multi-color sand and dirt, and it looks pretty good.  We’ll check it out when the furniture is off.” I was able to reassure her, but I could smell it too.  Mild animal odor.

This carpet isn’t that old!  I can’t stand the thought of replacing it again already…aaagghh!

I remember other times being assaulted with an odor as soon as I stepped into a house.  Usually it was the house of an animal lover with indoor pets abounding, or an elderly couple whose days of cleaning up immaculately after kitty were past. This all makes me think of the power of smell to form our opinions, and rather quickly I might add. This is not good news.  For one, the impression left on a prospective renter might mean I have to replace carpet in the condo I was showing.  For two, it means I have to watch out as some people would describe the husband and I as an elderly couple whose days of cleaning up immaculately after kitty are past.

We aren’t that old!!  I clean up after that cat all the time, cat hair, cat puke, cat litter, all of it…

One of these days I will start losing my sense of smell.  It might actually be an old age blessing, I don’t know.  but it’s not happening yet.  Lately every time I walk into my closet from a certain direction (there are two doors) I smell something… something sour, old.and difficult to describe any more concretely.  It’s only there for a few seconds and then it’s gone. I have done housecleaning professionally and following my training I have taken that closet apart, including inspection of all the shoe soles, behind the small dressers and washing the throw rug.  There is nothing there.  I have checked out the air vents. Nothing.  I don’t know where else to check, but the smell is still there.

Did I just tell people that my house stinks?!  I’m making it sound like I live in a barn – that’s just not right.  I shouldn’t write that. 

Lying in bed in the morning, I can tell if the timer on the coffee pot worked. I can walk toward my kitchen and tell immediately if the garbage should have been taken out the night before.  I can tell what it is in the garbage that is announcing itself and almost to the hour how long it has been there. I can tell from the opposite end of the house that the pan cooking whatever on the stove is out of water and working on a burn.  I can tell if the cat has used the litter box (oh, how I can tell!), I can tell if the shirt lying on the dryer is used and on its way to the wash or fresh and on its way to the closet.  I can smell way too much sometimes.

I’m revealing my smell obsession.  Stop it now.

Last night as a friend came to the house to bring me something, we stopped and talked by the dining room table.  I was very nervous to linger there as it was the area of one of my latest mystery smells.  Smelled like rotting chicken.  Really.  Fortunately she was bringing me some essential oils which smell really great.  I will never know whether she decided to demonstrate the difuser out of self defense.  She was too polite to say, and I kept hoping it was just happy coincidence that she chose a nice strong lavender.

Wow, maybe I do live in a barn!  What kind of house cleaner am I?!

When the husband came home from band practice, he smelled it too, and said he had been smelling it for days.  Funny thing, it was coming from his briefcase that he keeps on a chair at the end of the table.  Yeah, the one he takes to work and sometimes he throws his lunch into the side pocket.  Well, what do you know?  There’s still a boiled egg hiding in there from two weeks ago.  Nasty thing.

Gosh, it was rotting chicken.  We are getting so old.  But hey, we found it.  

I ran the difuser all night, right by my bed.  It was great.  I love lavender.

________________________________________________________________________________

 

Please tell me this happens to you too.   Maybe, just once in a while?

 

 

The Value of a Hard Day

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Every hard day I go through becomes a part of me.  I think back on the recent hours of physical pain and ask myself what is different about me now?

I am much more aware of my mortality. Reminded of how little control I have over the complexities of this body. How little it takes to bring on a crisis.  I sat and wondered how much pain it takes to make a person pass out, not able to take any more. I thought of others who endure more pain over longer periods of time, in prison perhaps with no care at all to help them. But I thought more about my own pain and what I might possibly do to lessen it, make it go away.  I mean, how could there not be anything?

I made some promises to my body.  I realize pain is a message of sorts that my body gives me to tell me valuable things. I need to listen better. I need to keep times of pain in mind when I choose activities, work, play, eating.  I haven’t been totally negligent all these years but I do wish that the awareness I have now in my 60’s had been with me in my 20’s and 30’s. I could have been listening back then too.

I have reviewed what I know about God’s view of my life and my pain. I know by now that I can’t expect the laws of the universe to be superceded to produce miracles for me. I believe that happens but I don’t understand  why sometimes and not others. I know Jesus’ heart in the matter because he healed everyone who came to him. I think he has that same compassion for me. Sometimes my prayers for relief are answered quickly, other times not so quickly.  When the answer has been “no” I can usually see that there is benefit for me.  I know that my spiritual healing is the most important thing to God and the answer to that has never been “no”.

I have friends.  When they know that I have a need, love is poured out so generously.  I feel God is in that.  It’s part of that body metaphor where other parts feel the pain when one part hurts. I was encouraged and blessed and I’m told lots of good brain chemicals are released in that.  What a wonderful built-in response to love.

I learned that the husband can make really good sandwiches, and he is attentive and caring.  I knew that before but it’s kind of rare that I need this kind of attention so I forget. He gave up most of his day carting me around to medical care and waiting, waiting…. going for my prescriptions, making me comfortable.

I learned once again how wonderful it is when pain stops.  What relief.  What rest.  A new and joyful appreciation of pain free moments is mine.  I’m flooded with gratitude – more good brain chemicals.

One more part of my body taking on a troublesome behavior could cause a bit of dread, fear, uncertainty.  But today I was reminded in Proverbs 1:33 that listening to the Lord’s wisdom promises me that I will live in safety, be at ease and not have to dread disaster.  Disaster might come, but I don’t have to dread it.  My days are numbered by the Lord, not by circumstances of accident or disease. And thinking back, I wasn’t afraid.  But gosh, the pain was awful.

And so it becomes part of my past and part of me. I’ve seen pain make some people more beautiful.  Isn’t that kind of an exciting concept – that you can do something with pain and use it?  That I might become more beautiful, even stronger, in character is growth. I love that kind of growth!

I don’t wish hard days on anyone but I’m just sayin’, if you have one, it can be valuable.

Today’s List

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Today I made a list, which I almost never do anymore.  There were some important things that I didn’t want to forget.  I am never sure of my lists – are these the most important things? what am I forgetting? can I possibly do it all? But I did make the list and then prayed that if it mattered at all, I would be directed what to do.

And then I did other things, none of them on the list.  I guess it didn’t matter?

But it was ok.  I had made the decision someone else’s.

Today I helped my employer, somewhat longer than I had planned, but she needed it.

Today I returned a phone call and as a result, someone who needs a place to live, might have exactly what they wanted.

Today I fed someone who couldn’t feed herself. The food looked disgusting (pureed) but she ate it.  She had no response except to swallow and look at me once or twice. I felt overwhelmed with compassion.

Today I called the above person’s husband and told him that his beloved wife with Alzheimers was clean, fed and safe for one more day.

Today I came alongside someone who was helping someone else and hopefully answered some of his questions and encouraged him.  We made copies of his friend’s last will and testament.   We went to a restaurant and I had a strawberry shake while I watched him eat his burger and fries.

Today I let my cat sit undisturbed on my lap for half an hour.  It was the only time I was stationary at home and it did me good too.

None of these things were on my list, but they were on God’s list and ultimately I was very satisfied.  I’m making a list again for tomorrow but I’m not going to worry about it. The God I believe in is also making a list which is far better than mine. Hopefully as I trust him, my list will match his more and more. That is really all he asks of me.

So This Is Canada: 12 Unguarded Observations of a Returning Canadian

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Yes, I can imagine every one of these being true, and they are well said! Canadian friends, you will love. And Seattle daughter, #7 is for you to laugh about.

Janelle Visser's avatarBreaking Moulds

Reverse culture shock is an interesting beast. It’s been six weeks that I’ve been back in Canada after living in Japan for four years, and I am in a weird headspace. People ask how the adjustment is going; it is certainly bewildering. I feel that I have not actually adjusted a single bit, but that I have simply been plucked mid-step from one life, one world, and shoved straight into another.

I've always felt a certain affinity with the little green men. I’ve always felt a certain affinity with the little green men.

Here are a few things I’ve noticed about this strange land since arriving/returning. I realize that some of these points might touch on sensitive subjects, so please take them for what they are: not criticisms or statements made to be inflammatory or offensive, but raw observations and unguarded thoughts of a person seeing their home country with fresh eyes.

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Changing My Mind

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Changing My Mind

My mind needs to change.

I have been of the mind that serious health problems belong to other people but not to me. I have always worked activity into my life effortlessly – I love to move. I have grandparents who lived into their 90’s and parents who are still living independently. I have weighed the same, within a few pounds more or less, all my grown up life. I don’t worry about what I eat, am seldom ill, am probably a type A multi-tasker, go years between doctors appointments. To all appearances I am a healthy person.

My human nature doesn’t spend a lot of time focusing on the diabetes, Parkinson’s disease and cancer in my family history.

Last week I decided to fill out a health survey. One of the questions was to compare blood triglyceride values from past years to the present. I didn’t like what I saw. I went on to look at cholesterol levels, HDL, and LDL. Again there was an alarming trend. I have also noticed a rise in my blood pressure from my usual quite low reading to a higher “normal”. I don’t know how much of this, if any, is normal for me as I age. I’d like to think these changes could go away.

I think I’ll start by admitting that the better eating habits we’ve been adopting aren’t just for the husband, they’re for me too. No more hiding stuff to eat after he’s gone (did I say that, really?) No more reminding him not to eat what I’m eating. And now I’ll not just be walking the husband, I’ll be walking the self for exercise.

The thing I’m really worried about is butter. I’m a little worried about Half and Half in my coffee but I’ve already decided that cutting down a bit on the caffeine would be better for me so that tablespoon of cream is not too bad. But butter, hmm… I love butter.

I read that overuse of NSAIDs can affect blood pressure and that’s another thing I’ve done in the last few years. Ibuprofen has been my friend and how I miss it when I lay off for a few days! But I’ve already decided to get used to hurting a little bit more and maybe taking things a little easy to avoid some of those hurts.

My goal is to see those numbers in my lipid panel improve.  And I’m pretty sure it starts in my head, with a change of mind.  If anyone out there has done something that really worked well, please share it with me.

Being Home, Being Restored

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I love to travel. I love to be home.  Even though there is a lot here to be responsible for, and when I’m gone nature does it’s thing pretty much unchecked (the husband did mow the lawn) it is still a place that restores me. It begs me to take part, to pull a weed, pick up a few fallen branches, smell the mint and the rosemary, touch a mossy rock, marvel at a single strand of spider silk floating from somewhere to who knows where, hold my ears when the cicadas get all fired up. At some point there will come colder weather and it will change, but for now it is still the hot, humid, green glory of summer. Nature is more than amazing, it is God’s gift showing his thoughfulness, his love of beauty and drama, his attention to detail, his desire to nurture and uplift, his power to take down and start anew

If you need a spot of beauty in your day, come take a morning walk with me through the Oneacrewoods.

one of many paths
one of many paths

shapes, colors, texture, variety for our eyes to see
shapes, colors, texture, variety for our eyes to see

wpid-20140912_104506.jpgwpid-20140912_104543.jpgwpid-20140912_105145.jpgwpid-20140912_105216.jpgwpid-20140912_105412.jpgwpid-20140912_104738.jpgwpid-20140912_104702.jpgwpid-20140912_105231.jpgwpid-20140912_105513.jpgwpid-20140912_103922.jpgwpid-20140912_104111.jpgwpid-20140912_103947.jpg

Nature’s Twists and Turns (a freak storm)

Shirleyjdietz7 Comments

The last two times I have visited my hometown of Hayward have been connected with storms of note. Last fall I was there for the first blizzard of the year. This week I happened in on a freak storm that colored most of this visit.

The morning started like any other in northern Wisconsin in the late stages of summer, overcast and grey. Then it changed to something unusual. Everyone who witnessed it starts their story with “and then it got dark”, “it was as black as night”, “it got as dark as this black shirt I’m wearing”.

From her living room window my mom can see the top of the flagpole at the next door furniture store. The flag was flapping in a west wind. The rain began and the sound of it soon grew louder as hail began hitting the windows and siding of the house. There was a fury in this storm that sent those who had basements down for shelter. After about an hour, when the wind had subsided and the sky was lighter many people came out to look at the damage. There were piles of ice here and there. The fence around the development had been shot through with holes where it was still standing and completely twisted and blown down everywhere else.

this fence will not go up again
this fence will not go up again
holes from the wind driven hail
holes from the wind driven hail

As they stood in the street talking, my brother noticed a dark bank of clouds rapidly approaching from a different direction. It was as if the storm turned around and came back for a second round. More rain pelted the area and winds continued from what seemed like all points of the compass. There have often been tornado like events in this area without any sightings of funnel clouds or advance warning of any kind. This seemed to be one of those times. The area affected had no clear boundaries, the destruction had no apparent path.

A day later, we drove around to check on nearby properties that my dad owns. I saw firsthand what hail can do. Cornfields with stalks still standing but no leaves on them. Lawns looking like they had been mowed. A green carpet of chopped leaves on roads, roofs, and the forest floor. Trees looking like fall had already stripped them. In addition, many trees were down, sometimes in clumps having come down together, but often randomly, here and there. Trees that had fallen on the road had by this time been cut allowing cars to pass, but clean up was going slowly.

What's left of the corn
What’s left of the corn
Trees nearly bared by hail
Trees nearly bared by hail
Chopped leaf salad covers many roads
Chopped leaf salad covers many roads
and roof tops
and roof tops
Many roads obstructed with fallen trees and utility poles.
Many roads obstructed with fallen trees and utility poles.

Gardens and flower pots that had been still in full bloom and production were decimated – an early demise. I worked at cleaning up my mom’s patio where she had several planters, one full of herbs and flowers. The plants had been chopped and spread about and my sweeping stirred up the aroma of basil and parsley. The garden that had received compliments the week before was empty of everything except a few cabbages. I pulled up the bare corn stalks and cucumber vines. The small creeks that flow through my brother’s property were overflowing and flooding the drive. The downed trees numbered 40 and as already mentioned, the fence was history. In the nearby town there was much flooding and standing water. One other noticeable post storm effect – the birds were gone.

The garden I helped plant last May. I got to help tear it down after the storm.
The garden I helped plant last May. I got to help tear it down after the storm.
A lot of loveliness shredded and beaten down...
A lot of loveliness shredded and beaten down…

People are helping each other clean up. Those without electricity are borrowing generators. Things are slowly getting back to normal. Much has been lost but the landscape will recover. We are all reminded that nature is still a powerful, untamed force.

After the hailstorm, Those are not bullet holes.
After the hailstorm, Those are not bullet holes.

Random Thoughts at 34,000 Feet (Up)

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

This is going to be a long flight and I’m bored already. Oh how I wish I had not forgotten the crochet hook. My plan for four hours of waiting was to crochet more of the bookmarks for my Cambodian kids. I have a big ball of thread and no implement.  Since I wasn’t going to read my book, it is in the suitcase in the bin over my head. I’m not getting up to dig it out – too much trouble.

No needlework, no book, that leaves eating and sleeping.  I know better than to think there will be much to eat on this domestic flight.  No one eats any more on domestic flights.  Well, I was wrong, here come the peanuts, all 21 of them (I counted). That shaved a minute and a half off the flight time. I know better than to think I’m going to fall asleep with the baby being loud behind me, and the person coughing all the time somewhere back there.  I must not breathe their air.   

It’s hard to sit straight in these seats for very long. I twist and look out the window until my neck hurts. All the scenery is pretty far away. Oh, but there is a big river, If I had to guess, I’d say Mississippi.  Maybe we’re getting close to Minnesota. 

Trying to make myself sit straight again. Suddenly aware of how many times and places I do sit crooked. Like in my car, always leaning to the right, away from the door. I think my bones and muscles have adapted to poor posture. Need to pay more attention to that.  They’ve done something to make these seats harder.  It’s punishment for going economy class.  For that we all get punished, and someone has already done the puzzle in the airplane magazine.  They are trying to make me go crazy. 

Clouds look like popcorn. Mmmm…. popcorn. Butter. I’m thirsty.

More male flight attendants than female on this flight, kind of interesting. And the guys are doing all the refreshment service in the cabin. The lady must have gotten the first class cabin. Wonder if I’ll ever ride first class?  In my dreams…  What have they done to make guys want to be flight attendants?  Maybe it’s because they let them be comedians and make you tube videos.  Guys love that.

It is so noisy in here. There were a bunch of announcements and I hope they weren’t important because the engines drowned out the words. I didn’t catch a one of them.  I want some noise cancelling headphones.

I can see the top six inches of head of nearly everyone in the plane, from the back. Head tops are curly, straight, bald, that one needs a color touch up, grey, white, baseball cap. I can tell which women have gotten professional cuts – they have actual styles.  I try to guess how old everyone is based on the back of their head.  

Woman across the aisle has an outfit that looks severely odd. I’m trying not to stare. Lime green ankle length dress with a straight skirt and what looks like a three foot long hood hanging down the back. Looks high fashion, matches her jewelry and haircut. She’s spent some money somewhere but I wonder if she’s comfortable.  That shiny white box is her purse?!  She is so “Project Runway”.  Thankful for my comfortable clothes.

Chocolate. Nice lady next to me gave me a Hershey kiss. She’s going to her grandson’s wedding. She asked me where I was going. We are aware of the opposite prevailing emotions behind a wedding and a memorial service, but acknowledge that we are both going to be seeing a lot of family.  She says that is going to be good.  So do I. 

What on earth am I going to do with my mind for the next two hours? Aaarrraaghh! (silently) Look through my purse for the tenth time for that stupid crochet hook. 

Wonder if the husband made it out of Tampa and back home safely.  Worry about him.  Worry about him driving my car.  Hope he doesn’t crash the car. 

Thinking about my car some more. Can hardly believe that we got 5 people and four sets of luggage in LC (little car). It’s a good thing the ride to the airport was only 50 minutes. I guess I’m getting more used to, and more appreciative of that car. It definitely has some good technology and gets good gas mileage. I’m getting used to putting my “stuff” in the back seat, getting used to the awkward drink holder that I can never get my cup out of, getting used to taking the husband’s phone out of the cubby he always tries to put it in so that I can move the gear shift, getting used to the way I have to climb up and out of my seat, getting used to waiting five minutes while the husband gets out of his seat.  

What time is it? Are we there yet? Oh gosh, 45 more minutes….

I can tell we are in the midwest. The land is all divided up into regular sized squares, none of those irregular lines around the geography of the south. Every once in a while, where the roads intersect, there is a conglomerate of buildings, a town. There’s that big river again, with a barge. Has to be the Mississippi. Every inch of land is some kind of field – so many different shades of green and brown and once in a while a yellow one. The cloud shadows are so obvious from up here.  The early settlers would turn over in their graves if they could see this land being so covered with farms and houses.  And they would never believe that I would be seeing it from the sky. I don’t believe I’m seeing it from the sky.  Hope the plane doesn’t crash.

Can hardly wait to get a crochet hook and make up for all this wasted time. Must go to Walmart as soon as I get to Hayward. Wonder if I’ll ever live in Hayward again. That would be kind of full circle, no it’s more like a double circle. I started there and left, came back to start our family and left again, and to return would be the second homecoming. Two circles. I never would have dreamed there would be a Walmart in Grandma’s back yard – never in a million years. Wish she could see it.  Wish the early settlers could see a Walmart.  They wouldn’t believe it. 

Engine speed is changing now and I can feel us moving to a lower altitude. Such a difference in noise level. We must be getting close to Minneapolis and I am so glad. My neck is really stiff now. Have to move and stretch soon or I’m going to self destruct. So glad this isn’t a 16 hour flight to South Korea. Hope the plane doesn’t crash. 

Ooops. Forgot my sunglasses. Oh well, Wisconsin in the fall – the sun might not shine the whole time I’m there. The lady in the lime green outfit just stood up. The dress has ruching up the sides and all kinds of chiffon draping and fluttery things in the front. Never seen anything like it. Can’t believe she wanted to wear that on the plane. What was she thinking? We are definitely pointing down now.  Hope the plane doesn’t crash. 

No Question Marks Allowed

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

Was just looking over my last few post titles and seeing a run of question marks that I didn’t realize was happening.  There are going to be none in this post.  This is going to be difficult since there are no subjects that I don’t have questions about.  For such a decisive person, I am perfectly comfortable with many uncertainties. In addition I am very skeptical of people who think they’ve got it all figured out, not only for themselves but for everyone else too.  That is not to say that there aren’t things that I have proven to myself to be true and certain.  There are some. 

Today I went to visit Jack.  He is one of my “older than me” friends who has had several months of acute illness followed by surgery, followed by infections, setbacks, weight loss, more setbacks, and endless rehab.  I don’t know how he remains as positive as he does.  

A home assessment visit was supposed to take place today and I was invited along since I may be helping him when he finally gets released.  It was cancelled.  He has a fever and didn’t feel well enough. Today I could feel the gloom and he had very little to say.  I think he is living in the kind of decline that most of us fear is going to happen to us someday, if we live long enough without a quick accident of some kind.  And for Jack it is even more of a dilemma since for the last few years he has been watching his wife Carol, go through an even slower, more agonizing decline with Alzheimers.  He is concerned for her and for himself. They are in the same rehab hospital so he at least can see her frequently.  

At home today, while I was thinking about Jack’s situation, the TV was non-stop talking about the latest journalist beheading.  It was another instance of imminent death which I’m sure the victim saw coming.  I wonder what it was like to anticipate that – and then immediately I don’t want to think about it anymore, don’t want to visualize it or feel the details.  It seems like the world is unusually full of death, be it quick or slow.  Maybe it has always been this way to those who were aware of the suffering, but it is pretty hard not to be aware of it in this present age.

All troubling thoughts about death and suffering eventually connect me to what I believe about myself and about God.  To all people I would not be hesitant to say I am certain we all will die. To some people I would say I am certain God exists, knows and loves us and wants to bring us through this life to a better one in the future.. I am certain he can be known and loved by us once we really understand him.  But to others I would not say this because of the questions they need answered, and which I cannot answer.  I think I understand these people because of all my own uncertainties.

Here’s the good thing.  As I wrestle with my thoughts on death, meaning of life, what I’m certain of and what I’m not, I feel no condemnation from God for having questions.  Unlike this post where no questions are allowed, they seem to be allowed and welcomed, certainly in the past but now as well.  I think it’s very possible that God uses questions, uses uncertainty, and is able to demonstrate his answers better because of them.  

I’m not going to anticipate decline in my old age and I’m going to encourage Jack not to be afraid.  I’m not going to fear terrorism and imagine all kinds of atrocities happening to me (well, maybe a little, well yes, I’m afraid of some of it).  What I do feel is a great curiosity and a hopeful anticipation of having my questions answered,  And it will be good when that happens. Of that, I am certain.