Life Goes On

 

Before.  The Vermont house when we bought it.  This is the entryway looking into the living room where I sit on the couch and ice my knee these days.

After.  The Vermont house now.  This is the entryway looking into the living room where I sit on the couch and ice my knee these days.

When I decided I was going to get a new knee I told the PA I wanted to talk to some patients that had had a similar operation.  She thought that was a great idea(to my face).  A few days later I got a call from the person in the office that gets handed the tasks the 'higher ups' would rather blow off.  She told me that it's pretty unlikely that someone would want to talk to me and that I should just go online and google petellafemoral replacement because I would be able to get all the info I needed that way.  I didn't like that answer...would you?...so I called the office again saying I need the referrals they were going to get for me.  In one form or another this went on for a half dozen phone calls over 6 weeks.   I kept leaving very specific messages with the phone person because they won't ever transfer you to the person you should be talking to.  Because I was never called back I assumed my messages weren't getting translated correctly...  so you know what I did?  I wrote and old fashioned letter, put it in an envelop with a stamp and mailed it.  The next day I had more referrals than I wanted.  I pretty much had their data base.

So then today...I won't get into the ambulance and the emergency room story....but I ended up getting my knee drained again by the person I told you about that promised me the referrals then handed the task to the person that thinks google is magic.   The draining usually goes better than it did today and when I got home I called the office to ask why there was a bruised egg-sized lump that was bleeding on the outside of my knee that had never been there before and should I be concerned.  Lisa, the phone person, said Leah (the knee drainer) was with a patient but she would have her call me.  A half hour later Lisa (note, not Leah) called back basically telling me to 'take two aspirin and call me in the morning' (except she meant 'don't call me in the morning').  I asked Lisa several questions, none of which she was able to answer except when I asked her what her position was there at the office and she told me she was a scheduler.
 
Yesterday I rode the bike trainer with one leg for 70 minutes which I'm sure that is going to have it's own set of problems before long.  I watch old  'curb your enthusiasm-s' for a distraction and once as I momentarily drifted back into reality, I realized I wasn't even peddling so the 70 minutes was probably more like 20.

Today is another couch day.  A divot has settled into the couch that is only going to get bigger and more embarrassing.  I think I'll be able to finish our Christmas card ( a month late...not eleven months early) which is something I wouldn't have been able to do without my forced rest. 

Picture this.  Me on the couch and Vince two feet behind me swearing at inanimate objects and plastering the chimney.  Then two days later and two feet behind and to my right, he rips out a door, studs out the wall, sheet-rocks, paints. 

"Excuse me.  I'm trying to relax here...."

I'm babbling.

Weak In The Knees, To Say The Least

My knee.  I must have really stretchy skin.

Yesterday I had a surgical consult with Dr. Huber.  We both knew it was just a matter of time before I scheduled a day for him to take out my old knee and put in a new one.  Gives me the creeps.  Looks like I am a candidate for a patellofemoral replacement often referred to as a 'partial' in knee replacement converstions. The knee has three compartments and it appears that only one of mine is totally trashed so that will be the one he replaces.  Even though a 'partial' sounds less creepy, they still go in and take out part of my knee.   Ick.

"He has some time March 12,"  office person Amanda said.
"I'll take it,"  I said.

The consult was productive.  He was able to answer all of my questions.  I'd prepared myself by contacting five of his previous patients before I went in and everyone was happy.  One ran a marathon this summer.

Most skiers would wait until the end of the season for the operation but since I can't ski anyway,  I'm doing it now.

When I say I can't ski, it's not entirely true.  I can double-pole on the flats.  I always wear my down jacket because I can't go hard enough to sweat.  Yesterday I felt cocky and skied the 3 km man-made loop a few times.  It's not really fun...at least it wasn't yesterday when it was 5 degrees.  I have my bike on a trainer and spin once in a while.  Last time I did that was Sunday, and Monday was '10 on the pain scale' day so the bike may not be a good idea.

Of course I'm not the first person in the world to go through a surgery like this but I feel like I am.


Good News.
The doc wrote me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory called meloxicam.  (I can never tell if an anti-inflammatory works or not but whatever) I looked it up and it's pretty much what we give our dog Max when he's stiff.  He responds to it really well...almost immediately...and I've always said that I wish there was a human version.  Bingo!

(Number Fourteen) GOOD LIFE

I had a bad feeling about ending the year with 13 posts.....


Just got back from a week of visiting my dad at "GOOD LIFE" a resort for active seniors...(seniors meaning 55+!) in Mesa, Arizona where the gum chewing drove Vince crazy.

Twelve hundred, 400 square foot trailers 5 feet apart and if there were neighbors that hated each other, I wasn't aware of it.

Dad pretending to understand everything Vince is telling him about his (Dad's) new tablet.

Dad (cane) and me (crutches).

Dad pedaling at level 10.

I met Harris, 90, from Balaton, Minnesota. He'd ridden his bike with a basket to the fitness center then ridden the stationary bike for 30 minutes before riding to the post office to mail his lavender enveloped Christmas cards.  I mentioned something to Dad about Harris's degree of activity and he said "Yah, but he only has the exercise bike at level-one." 

This sign, posted at the Good Life fitness center, must have been effective because I didn't see anyone wrestling the whole time I was there.

On the flight back the flight attendant acted like the plane couldn't take off until I put my Galaxy Bookshop bag, holding a sandwich, under the seat in front of me.  Meanwhile, the woman beside me had an un-anchored one year old in her lap.   That doesn't make sense to me.

For Sale, One Seed-Sprouter

"I forgot to lock the car," said Vin as the plane's bulkhead door slammed shut. Our car was in the Bradley/Hartford airport parking lot with my passport and two heirloom diamond rings.  It would be there, unlocked, for a week while we were in Phoenix visiting my dad.  (Before you ask why I would keep diamond rings in the glove compartment...have you ever moved something from a place it's always been to a 'better' spot, never to see it again?)  I had just enough time, before I screwed up the planes navigation system with my cell phone to call the number of the Toyota dealer on our key chain.  Good news.  He said you could lock the car without the keys.  Now all we had to do is find someone who would drive two and a half hours to the airport to see if that was actually possible.  In the meantime our best bet was to point the automatic door locking gizmo at the car as we flew over the parking lot and push the lock button.  We were transferring in Charlotte and as soon as the plane landed I called Jay, one of our best friends ever, who thought the situation was epic/funny/typical enough to drive the two and a half hours to the airport to lock the car for us.  We told him that there was a chance it may already be locked which to him made the situation even more epic/funny/typical.*

I spent two entire days learning how to list a few things on ebay.  I figured out if I sold everything at the 'buy-it-now' price I would walk away with $46.97. 
Example: I had the starting bid for a 'seed-sprouter' (are you wondering what a 'seed-sprouter' is?) at $1.99 with a ' buy-it-now' price of $3.99.  It had 34 hits and 7 watchers (ebay language)....what I wondered was....why didn't someone just buy it for the $3.99?  In the end, no one bought it which was good because the amount I was charging for shipping was a lot less than it would actually cost me to ship it so for me to get rid of my 25 year old never-used 'seed sprouter', it would have cost me $2.40.   I'm taking a break from ebay for a while.

I remember 25 years ago, how excited I was, when I realized there was such a thing as a seed-sprouter.

Vin and I are applying to a few more film programs.  Florida State is the only application we've sent in so far.   The 'Statement of Purpose' (where I used the word 'thus' for the first time in my life) is the letter where you tell the people that require a 'Statement of Purpose' everything you've done in your life and how it relates to being the ideal film student.  Being 55, it was hard to keep my life to the 1000 word limit...the same number of words a 20 year old applicant is allowed.  How is that fair?

*Jay and Denise (Jay's wife) drove to the airport.  They found the car (they said "because it was the dirtiest one there") and it was unlocked.

Hear Goes Nothing

Max is ready for hunting season.

Had Vince and I been accepted to the Binger Film Lab in Amsterdam I would have had some exciting news but we didn't so I don't.  We knew we were under-qualified the whole time (three weeks) we were filling out the application but thought maybe we'd fulfill some obscure admissions requirement quota for them.  Guess not.  It would have been fun to spend 4 months in Amsterdam rubbing elbows with Spike Lee but what about Max?  We figured he wouldn't have liked flying so we'd have had to take a boat.  And then once in Amsterdam, while he may have enjoyed all the smells, but he wouldn't have enjoyed sitting in an apartment all day just waiting for us to come home.  I want to cry just thinking about it.

Our Christmas cactus has one blossom this year which is one more than it had last year.

Our default location is Vermont (we go north for the winter) where we are attempting to feel productive by doing at least one thing on the house everyday.  Vin's week long cinematography workshop at 'Maine Media'  didn't help our timetable any but whatever.*    We are about 2 task-weeks behind but stay closer to our schedule better than my online Spanish 'A Word A Day' people.  Yesterday's word was zanahoria which means carrot and when they used it in a sentence I'm pretty sure they used it incorrectly...like I would know.

Kitchen lights from Etsy.

Last week Vince installed the lights above the counter which should count for at least a week of projects but I'd never tell him that.  Me? I order things and then figure out where in the neighborhood UPS has dropped them off.   We're going to finish the fireplace as soon as the beam we picked out for the mantle is dry.  The guy at the mill left a message saying it's at 25 and he wants it to be at 10 which doesn't really tell us much since we don't know when it was at any other numbers.


Riding and Dogs:
1.  If I'm really quiet I can get past the two nasty dogs on Center Road without them chasing me.  They've never bitten me or hit my front wheel which surprises me every time.   Today my plan was to try holding my breath until I got even with the 'Save the Lowell Range' sign on their lawn and then sprint.  They'd never know.  Sprawled on the sidewalk with their backs toward me, I sneaked by.  My timing was perfect.  And then I sneezed.

2.  There was no way to tell from the map how many unleashed dogs would be on the new loop I was riding that day.  Near the end of the ride, having outrun a dozen poised and ready-to-pounce mutts, I started to let down my guard.  As I approached the last dirt road crossing, out of the corner of my eye I saw the biggest dog of the day coming up full speed on my left.  He cut right in front of me, just missing my front wheel, and that's when I noticed I'd been chased by a goat.  Swear to God.


Other News.

Aunt Marlene (holding prints from her film camera), Vince, and Uncle Roy at Good Life last Christmas day.

•Dad is already down at 'Good Life' the age qualified/55+ (Vince and I are 55) 'resort community' in Mesa Arizona for the winter.  He told me he got an ipad that's "really more than an ipad" because when the guy in the store talked to it, "it could write what he said in any language".  Sold.

•I'd always wanted to be able to whistle but never could.  A few weeks ago my jaw shifted a bit and now I whistle a little when I talk so be careful for what you wish.

•I don't know what made me think of this but the day we left Metaline Falls I was outside swallowing the last of my tea and with it the grasshopper that had sneaked into my mug...so when I say there are no bugs here, it's not entirely true.

Enough of trying to make 'nothing' interesting.


* I meant to grab my credit card from the wallet (we share one wallet) before he left but didn't so my week was spent seeing how long I could go in the Vermont countryside with no car and no money.

Let There Be Light and Recycling

Finishing Vermont.

Just when I was sure I'd looked at every pendant light ever made, I involuntarily clicked on a link that brought me to another 1436 of them.   It didn't help that I wasn't really sure for what I was looking but thinking that I'd know it when I saw it made me look at every one.  Filled with hope, while wondering why 'view all' isn't always an option, I trudged through 24 items per page sixty times.    An hour later I decided that the pendant light I was looking for must not exist and went to the dump.

Finally.  I decided to go with the one millionth pendant I looked at.

I guess it's called  transfer station.  Whatever it's called, the one in Washington is like a carnival compared to the one in Vermont because of the glass pile.  True.  In VT you can recycle everything in one bag which is it's own reward but nothing like being encouraged to shatter a month's worth of wine and beer bottles without having to sweep them up.  But, if you want to recycle your number 5's (like yogurt containers) you have to mail them somewhere and I'm not sure where that effort ends up in the good-for-the-earth recycling pay back stream.  

The Metaline Falls bottle throw

One Saturday on the way to the post office with a box of empty yogurt containers we got to talking about what would happen if we drove our plastic up to Nelson, British Columbia for recycling and decided to head north to find out.  Sitting at the border crossing feeling guilty for no reason like usual we told the agent that 'recycling' was the reason for our trip ( now, I would've thought that sounded fishy ) and they waved us through.   The transfer station in Nelson was closed when we got there but it looked like it wold be pretty easy to climb over the gate past the signs that said we were being watched and would be prosecuted if we dumped anything when the gate was closed. Idle threats?  It was a chance we were willing to take.  Now, after a couple months of looking over my shoulder I'm letting myself assume we won't be spending Christmas in a Canadian jail cell.

Our sixth road trip across the country in two and a half years started with a 'hi-bye' stop at my cousin Linda's in Spokane to make excuses for not visiting while we were out west and to move a heavy hutch from smack-dab in the middle of her living room to it's real home in her dining room.  Two days later, in Tyler, we were at Uncle Roy's making excuses for missing his 80th birthday party at the Legion and moving a china cabinet from his garage to a flatbed.  After that, caught up on the excuses, I played gopher while Vin fixed a couple tornado-torn roofs on my brother Dale's farm.

When we're in Tyler we stay at my Dad's.  We called him from the road to say we were on our way but it was Thursday and he had to get to Men's Night at the golf course so he couldn't really talk. 

Growing up, 'for cryin' out loud' was the only swear word Dad ever used.   I don't know what happened but this trip it seemed like every other word was 'fricken'.  Where did he even learn/hear it?  Vin says he probably learned it from his girlfriend (80).  I think it might have been Men's Night.

I think I promised to post a few pictures from our Greece trip.

 

They told us they never crumble feta in a Greek salad...and they would know.

Linda and I were born the same day in the same 12 bed hospital.

We never ate inside.  Not once.

The chef.  We drank wine he made and ate potatoes he grew.

It really looks like that. (Island: Naxos)

View from out balcony (island: Santorini).  Scary.

Another view from our balcony (island:Santorini) Everything is very old.  The mountain goes straight up and the houses are built into the rock.

Everything is connected with stairs.  Steep stairs. (island: Santorini)

If you don't want to walk the steep stairs you can ride up on a mule.  (island:Santorini)

A little harbor town below the Santorini buildings above.

In hind sight maybe the Greece trip wasn't so bad.

The Visitor(s)

'The Visitor' was the feature at our Saturday night dinner and a movie blowout.  It's just about my favorite movie ever so I liked seeing it for the second time and Vince went along with it.  John and Kathy couldn't make it for Saturday so they came Sunday.  I told them how good the movie was and that we could watch it again when they were here but Vince didn't like it as much as me so we talked instead.

Speaking of visitors...
Twelve hours after I arrived in Spokane on a red-eye from Athens I was sitting at a hotel in downtown Spokane with Kathy and Gaynelle, both Mankato State college roommates.*  Helen was the only college roommate missing from our 1978 apartment down the hill from campus where even though we had two bedrooms, we all slept together in one (the other sat empty except for the turn table and 8-track player) because we couldn't decide how to divide us up.
Between the three of us we were able to dredge up the names of a lot of college friends that we knew we never forget but did.  We convinced each other that we all looked the same as we did in 1978 and maybe even better.
Nineteen hours later,  Janet**, an earlier college roommate and stepsister (long story) pulled in from Minnesota on a motorcycle with her husband.
You can't have too many close girlfriends.

Writing.
Thinking the meeting would give me the motivation to wrap-up (i.e. start) a little screenplay I been thinking about, I went to my first 'Metaline Falls writers group' last week but since all they talked about the whole time was how expensive things are nowadays, I may not go again.  There must be some reason I can't work on the writing project at home but I don't know what it is so I rode on my mountain bike on pavement with really new, really wide knobby tires and an unpadded, lopsided 20 pound pack that didn't conform to my back (miserable ride) to Nelson, British Columbia and stayed at the Dancing Bear youth hostel for few nights to see if that would inspire me.  It did, and now I have a screenplay about a girl that enters a cooking contest.  It should be better than it sounds and shouldn't be too complicated to do except for the scenes with all the animals.

The Dancing Bear inspired my 'girl enters a cooking contest' masterpiece.

There was no easy way for me to get into that top bunk.

A Big Week:
The movie theater re-opened on Friday with 'Super 8', the smell of new paint and popcorn and a near record crowd, many of whom had to park somewhere other than the main street because all the parking spots were taken.  Except for the sci-fi parts the movie was good. 

Next week.  Is anyone else tired of Harry Potter movies?

We won 2 local kayak races on Saturday.  One race had 4 boats, the other had 2 and the blue ribbon we came home with was the first of the summer.

We got some new red chairs.  This is just one of them but the other one looks just like it.

After a fifty-five year delay, last week during a paddle, I got up the nerve to execute my first rope swing launch.  Describing is as a 'launch' is pretty misleading but I can't think of a better word. 


*I told you about Greece and I told you about Kathy my best friend from college and now Sleepy Eye, Minnesota home of Buttered Corn Days in my last post.  Both Kathy and I majored in Parks and Recreation/Natural Resource management.  She was a Rec major because she was passionate about it.  I was a Rec major because it was easy.  I was one of her bridesmaids.

**I was one of her bridesmaids too.

***Trying to come up with a good way to make sure that the three-quarter can of refried black beans I couldn't eat wouldn't go to waste, I walked over to Justin, the Liverpool, England-ite that had been traveling for 4 years and working on a website about how to travel for a long time with no money.
Beans in hand, I asked "Do you wan......" and before I could finished my sentence, he'd grabbed the can and was writing his name on it with the group sharpie while holding the refrigerator door open.