SILENCE

Sometimes silence can be my best friend.   One of the first things I do in the morning is turn the radio on to get the latest news and weather report.   After about an hour of hearing all the negative things humanity is inflicting upon it's self it's time to turn it off.    Just the sound of the wind, rain, birds and the frogs at night can be enough for me.   A trip to the city with all the traffic, construction, and other noises makes me just want to get back home ASAP.   

I will never forget when Celia and I were in Costco years ago when she was getting a hearing test when an older man left his hearing aids off to have them cleaned.   As he walked off to do some shopping he said out loud--SILENCE AT LAST!

MOHS SURGERY

 My appointment was at 9 am on Monday to have skin cancer, the size of a dime removed from my lower right leg.  The biopsy, taken a month earlier, showed it to be basal cell cancer.   After checking in at the front desk of the Advanced Skin Center in Roseburg, I was instructed to wait in the second waiting room until my name was called.   Most the patients in the waiting room were old men, some with bandages on their noses, faces, arms and God knows where else.   It looked like a room filled with the walking wounded.   Mohs surgery involves cutting out the tissue with cancer, having it examined by the pathologist and if the edges of the tissue is free of cancer cells they stitch you up.   If it is not clear of cancer cells more cutting is performed until it become clear.  Some people could be in here all day.   I have been through this procedure before and never had to go back for a second cutting.  Medical staff personnel walked through the waiting room carrying towels, garments and other medical supplies.  Soon a young woman, who was a  medical assistant appeared calling out a name.   Not getting a response she yelled out the name and an elderly man responded and off he went following the young woman.   I got the impression some of these gentlemen had a hearing problem in addition to skin cancer.   After waiting a half hour my name Mike was called out, and off I went to an examination room where the medical assistant introduced herself, asked a few question and proceeded to injecting a numbing substance around the area that would be removed.  After a couple minutes she poked around the area asking if I could feel anything?   It was totally numbed and off she went to get the surgeon.   The surgeon looked like a man that had been up most the night, in desperate need of coffee with those big telescope lenses fasten to his glasses, like the ones a dentist wears.   He was a man of few words as he put on rubber gloves, picked up a scalpel and quickly did his business placing the chunk of flesh in a glass container the medical assistant was holding.   As he left the room he told me it would be an hour before he would have the pathology results done.   I asked the medical assistant if he was the pathologist too, and she replied yes.   He was a busy man and no wonder he looked tired.    The medical assistant applied a pressure bandage to my wound after cauterizing it to stop the bleeding and took me back out to the waiting room.  

While sitting in the waiting room for the results, an older couple sat down next to me.  The man told me they had come all way that morning from Port Orford on the Oregon Coast.   We got to talking as he told me they lived up Elk River, which I was very familiar with when I worked for the Forest Service in Gold Beach back in the 1980's.   He mentioned a few names of people that I had known including some loggers.   Soon his name was called and off he went.  Then another man sat next to me asking if he was in the right room.  I asked what he was here for and he did not seem to know.   He had come from Cottage Grove and said he had been here before to have something on his face looked at.   As we were talking I heard a man call out William, my first name which I usually don't respond too.  Everybody looked around as nobody responded, until I asked what is the last name and he said Burke, and off we went to another section of the facility where I was told to my relief the tissue was clear of cancer.  Here I was stitched up and a large compression bandage was applied from my knee down to my foot to keep the leg from swelling.  I was instructed to keep the leg elevated for a few days and not to get the bandage wet for week.   A real challenge for taking a shower.   After going to the front desk for scheduling appointments for the bandage removal in a week and in two weeks for the stitches to be removed, I walked out the front door with a new lease on life or at least until next July, when I'm scheduled for my six month full body exam.   I still wonder if that man from Cottage Grove ever found out what he was there for?     

THE LAST DAY OF AUGUST 2023

Finally some rain on the last day of this dreaded month.   The only rainfall before today was during the thunderstorm on the night of the 24th with 0.15 of an inch.   This thunderstorm touched off many fires in  Douglas County, including the Tyee Ridge Complex of fires about 8 miles to the west of me.   The smoke from these fires has made the air quality unhealthy.  Even with the rain today there is still the smell of smoke.   I had the windows open this morning but had to close them as it seems the rain pushed the smoke into the house this afternoon.   Now the air purifier in running to clear out the smell from the house.   

What will September bring?  

THE ICO"S OF AGING

The Issues, Concerns and Opportunities (ICO'S) of aging can be many, some good and some not so good.  Much depends on how well we took care of ourselves in our younger years, family history, the relationships we maintained over the years and the new relationships we develop.  

With old age and living alone comes a sense of freedom limited by health issues and financial means .  One big side effect of living alone is loneliness.  Over time one becomes stuck in their ways and the thought of finding another partner seems unfair, not practical and slowly fades away.   What Celia and I had together can not be replaced.   Over 20 plus years we grew together, respecting each others routine and accepting the lifestyle we both developed.   That does not disappear abruptly after her departing this world over two years ago, but over time somethings change and I get into my own rut.   Hard to imagine another woman putting up with me now at this stage of life.

Like Katherine Hepburn said, " men and women are not meant to live together, just occasionally visit."

COUNTRY DOCTORS

 When I lived in Orleans in northwestern California from 1971 to 1977 the nearest doctor was 40 miles away in a medical clinic in Hoopa Valley on the Hoopa Indian Reservation.     

This doctor did it all from setting broken bones, stitching up cuts and digging bullets out of people.   If major surgery was required or the birthing of a child we had to drive 85 miles to the hospital in Eureka.  I do not remember any ambulance service.  If there was a medical emergency you were at the mercy of neighbors to provide first aid and get you to Hoopa.  Some vehicle accidents, usually caused by excessive drinking were fatal and it could be days before somebody noticed a vehicle down off the road near the Klamath River below the highway.   Those that survived had to crawl up to the highway in hopes somebody would stop and take them into Hoopa.  

When we lived in Gold Beach on the south coast of Oregon, there was one doctor for the town of about 1500 people.   He worked out of the hospital doing everything from emergencies to clinical work.   To see the doctor you just went to the hospital emergency room and waited your turn.   When I developed an  infection on the side of my waist that prevented me from keeping my pants up it was time to wait my turn in the emergency room.    Once I was called into the exam room the doctor had me lay down on a table where he proceeded to cut open the infection in order to drain it.   Afterwards he told the nurse to pour peroxide on it and bandage it up.   I was sent home with a prescription for antibiotics and instructions to soak in the bathtub daily with Epson salts.  During the cutting procedure I was not given any local anesthesia.  There was a water pipe on the wall adjacent to the table that I hung onto thinking I might break it while dealing with any pain.   It all reminded me of the wild west.  

WORKING IN THE POISON OAK

In the summer of 1972 the seasonal fire crew of four people were put to work clearing the roadside brush leading into the Bluff Creek Guard Station on the Orleans Ranger District of the Six Rivers National Forest.   This work was done with hand tools and the brush was piled in a Forest Service pickup to be hauled off to a burn pile.   Most of the brush was blackberries mixed with poison oak.    Nobody on the crew was familiar with poison oak.    It was a hot day and some members of the crew had taken their shirts off as they gathered up the brush and put in the bed of the truck stomping it down.   The next day these people were human blisters in need of medical attention.  

GETTING OUT ON THE LAND

When all else fails and the weather permits, I grab a tool, such as loppers, a hoe or pruning saw and go into the woods.   There is always invasive plants to cut, trails to clear or trees to prune.    There is only the sound of the wind and birds rustling in the brush.  My thoughts are about the here and now, and time seems to stop.    It is good treatment for depression, anxiety and loneliness during this time of transition.  If there is a need to talk to my neighbors all I have to do is walk down the road with a shovel to clean culverts and debris from the drainage ditches, and soon somebody will drive by, stop and talk.  When the sun starts setting or the rain drops start falling, I make my way back to the house, throw a log in the stove, feed the cats, heat up some swill for dinner and call it a day.  It sure beats going to town, getting exposed to the Covid or flu virus, or spending money on something I can live without.    

LIFE THEN AND NOW

 Most of my ancestors were farmers in eastern Canada after migrating from Ireland in the 1840s.   They raised much of what they ate and traded or sold the surplus to neighbors, the local market, including the grain miller, distillery, and butcher.    They had some milk cows, a garden, fruit trees, butchered their own livestock, chickens, and sometimes feasted on wild game.    Much of the excess fruit, mostly apples were made into cider, the fermented type to add a little cheer to their lives.   Life was not easy as they usually worked from sun up to sundown.    Sunday was usually a day of rest and the only time to socially gather with others at church.  Getting there involved hitching a wagon to horses and traveling over a muddy trail to the nearest settlement 5 to 10 miles from home.   After church and depending on the weather people would assemble for a picnic, men would barter over the price of a cow, talk about their crops and maybe share some of their homemade beverages.  Women talked about when they were expecting their next child.

Women married young, had many children, and spent many hours cooking over a wood stove, washing clothes in a tub, and doing some of the outside chores in addition to tending the younger children.   The older children helped with raising their younger siblings and helped out with the milking, planting, and harvesting of crops.    

Some children never went beyond grade school.   If there was a crop failure or some family's house burned down they were at the mercy of relatives and neighbors.  There were no government social programs or insurance.

Many of the young men took up farming after leaving home, some worked in the meatpacking business, and later between 1900-1910 others went to work on the railroads in western Canada.   Visits to the local doctor were for broken bones, bad cuts, or to the dentist to have a tooth pulled.   Most lost all their teeth by the age of 50 and were fitted with false teeth.   Women usually died before their husbands, probably from exhaustion.   If a man became disabled or too old to work he was retired to a corner room in the house and dependent upon his children for care.  Most men, who were lucky died in their 60's and 70's from pneumonia or heart disease.

Today most of us have some kind of education beyond high school, worked an 8 to 10 hour per day job, 5 days a week, and retired after 30 years.   Our biggest challenge was making it through those years without losing our sanity.    We continue putting up with congested traffic, crowded markets, dodging the Covid virus, and making it home in one piece.   Many of us have not been to church in decades, socially gather at the local Bi-Mart parking lot or visit with a neighbor at the mailbox down the hill.  We have social security, Medicare, and maybe some sort of pension or IRA to get us through our retirement years.   If our luck holds out we might make it into our 80's and hopefully, our children have a corner room to put us into if all else fails.  

 

PREVENTING PARKINSON

 Parkinson's Disease is the fastest growing neurological disorder in the world.   In the U.S. it has increased 35% in the last 10 years and expected to double over the next 25 years.   Research has shown the use of trichloroethylene (TCE) used in many household cleaning products might be one culprit with increasing cases of Parkinson's.  The other is the chemical herbicide Paraquat used in agriculture.    In short, these chemicals get into our bodies killing good bacteria or microbes.   Basically, microbes make things that go into your blood to the brain, so what you eat feeds microbes.   

Parkinson Resources of Oregon (PRO) had a virtual conference today on nutrition and the gut-brain connection presented by Dr. Heather Zwickey.   She stressed the need to avoid inflammatory foods, such as dairy, meats, sugars, and produce that have been grown with pesticides and go more for a plant-based diet, mostly with organics vegetables, nuts, herbs, etc. 

The second speaker was Dr. Caroline Tanner presenting a public health approach to preventing Parkinson's.   Parkinson's can be caused by pesticides, polychlorinated biphenyls, head injuries, chlorinated solvents, military service ( agent orange), age, welding/metals, physical inactivity, and air pollution.    Constipation, sleep disorders, anosmia, anxiety, depression could be the prodromal stage of Parkinson's diagnosis before any symptoms start showing.   

The dilemma is can we change our diet, behavior pattern, and environment to prevent or slow the progression of Parkinson's?    

VACCINATED

Yesterday I received my second Moderna shot, so far, no ill affects.  Some younger folks I know have suffered from excessive tiredness after their second shot and had to catch up on their sleep, if only I was that lucky.   Most older folks have told me they only had some muscle aches, nothing new there since that's seems to be an everyday occurrence at this stage of life.

Who knows what's next after this pandemic?   In the end we're all going to the same place, and hopefully they serve beer there for those of us that have been good. 

CAREGIVING

Today was the monthly caregiver's Zoom meeting facilitated by Parkinson's Resources of Oregon.   This organization has been a lifesaver for me offering advice, virtual conferences, and the monthly support meetings with fellow caregivers.   It is a way to listen and learn from others taking care of a loved one.    We can compare notes on health issues related to Parkinson's, share ideas, remedies and at times vent our frustrations.   In many ways, I have learned more from these people than the medical professionals we have dealt with, and at no cost.   

At some time in our life, we will all be called upon to be a caregiver to aging parents, a sick spouse, or a child.   

2021

 After having my morning coffee I got to thinking of what this next year has in store for us.    Always scary when I get into deep thinking, so thought I would share what I know and don't know.   

My youngest sister, who is an RN in southern California informs me she has received the Covid vaccine and will get her second dose January 11th.   She says the hospital where she works is on the edge of a disaster due to all the Covid cases.    The experts tell us it will not  be until 2022 when we get this virus under control.   Just like the common cold and other flu viruses it will always be with us.  The only other person I know that has received the vaccine is a friend of ours working in a retirement home in Albany.   Not sure what the protocol or scheduling is for all the rest of us getting vaccinated or how.   Anybody else know?

It will take all kinds of medically trained people to administer and inject the population.   Even thought of volunteering myself as an old Army medic.   Can remember going through training at Fort Sam Houston, Texas and bending needles of each other as we practiced.    Not sure I want to do that again with the general public.   

Hopefully the new year brings us peace, hope and understanding.

Better get more coffee

Cabin Fever

 As of this morning, my Gmail account has 4,403 messages in the inbox.  The first message this morning is an ad to regrow thicker, longer, stronger, healthier hair.   No doubt I could probably use some of that.   Most of the emails deal with health issues, the latest news, writing classes, ads from publishers, and much political stuff, all wanting money in the end.   After checking all the items for deletion during my morning inventory much of it and more is replaced by the next day.   During these uncertain times, I really appreciate the stories many of you have shared.  As winter sets in along with the increasing spread of the virus cabin fever will be our next great challenge.    Nature is the best place to retreat from all the worldly madness and to share a few stories sure helps.

Keep writing!