A bit more on my medical adventure

Finally Almost two handed typing right hand very shaky.  On January 8^th I fell down a full flight of stairs from upstairs to first floor.  I bounced a couple times, scraped up the left hand, hit my head and landed on my right shoulder breaking the humeral head in FOUR parts and shoving it into the chest cavity, collapsing the lung and breaking three ribs, I think.  Tim came tearing down to me and I said that we needed to get to the ER room. He somehow got me up on my feet and sitting in the seat behind him.  It was late so we parked in the garage near the ER elevator.  He had to buzz the  nurses to get a wheelchair and away we went.  I dimly remember meeting the ER doc and part of the CT scan or MRI of whatever tunnel I was in.  Two days later I woke up in ICU at OHSU. One of my siblings was feeding me ice chips.  I was so thirsty.  Carla, Phillip and Mitch had come to visit.  I loved seeing those guys.  Day spent sleeping and making noxious smells.  I was wired for food via nose, oxygen and all sorts of IV junk.

Phil and Mitch left the next day. Carla stayed another couple of days, God Bless her.  We got caught up and told jokes.  I asked her what was the funniest joke she had ever heard.  She said that one time she was in the library at Northwest Nazarene in Nampa where Silence was the absolute rule. This kid she knew walked up to her and asked, “What did the elephant say to the naked man?”  I

 dunno replied Carla.  The elephant said, “How do you breathe with that thing?”

She had to run down two flights of stairs to go outside to laugh out loud.  I liked the joke so much I kept telling over to each new caregiver who came along.

As a matter of fact while I was in the hospital I kind of lost control of all my social filters, I flirted with all the men. I chatted with the ladies.  I told terrible jokes as well.  I told my orthopedist here on follow up about all the beautiful men and women who worked at OHSU.  He grimaced and said that I must have gotten some really excellent drugs.  Ah well.  Tim had gone home to take care of the kitties and get ready to come back a couple days prior to my discharge.  Richard called to say he, Jim and Gale were going to drive over from Idaho for a visit.  Wow!  Tim drove up the same day and it was quite a get together.  We played “Do you remember?” until about 10 pm.  I was great seeing them, crossing the Blues in Winter!!!

They left and drove to Yoncalla for a visit with  Phil and Jody.

We left the hospital Monday MLK day.  Got to about exit 288 I-5 South and the alternator died.  Called Triple AAA, purchased a membership, waited about 45 minutes to get towed to AAA approved repair shop and the tow driver, John Jones drove us all over Tualatin to a car rental shop.  We got their last car, one of the smallest plastic cars I have ever seen.  I did like the gigantic single windshield washer blade.

We took off in an epic rain storm that rained all the way up and down the coast.  It was like a cow peeing on a flat rock. The traffic was bumper to bumper from Portland to Salem.  At one point we sat still on I-5 for a good fifteen minutes.  The day finally caught up with us at North Salem and floundered around at Arby’s for roast beef Sammy and drinks and found a Phoenix Inn and that was the end of us for the day.

Breakfast bar next morning tasted wonderful.  We got packed up and Tim went to load up the rental and he came back in a few minutes. The key wouldn’t open the door we might have to call the rental company to ask for help.  One of the guys at the front desk went out to help and it turned out that the does work….. when you put it in the correct car.   Giggles.  So off we went.  Took the Drain turn off and finally at long last, made it home. Thanks to every one who called or came to visit.  I love you all.

Phil volunteered to drive Tim to pick up repaired buggy so they drove up the 26^th. Phil kept

Tim entertained by telling him the four hour long saga of how he and
Jody wound up in Yoncalla. Tim got home late afternoon. 

Jody decided to bring back the Honda and they arrived a few minutes later.  We visited a bit long enough for Jody to bond with our new kitty, Charlie.  Thanks guys!!!

I am in a shoulder sling.  I am getting therapy with Alex at the PT place.  I made it to me rescheduled eye appointment and they will be scheduling me for laser each eye.  Says it is painless and can be done in Coos Bay.  Okay. Now must tussle with Pacific Source over drug coverage…..

Just received bill from Life Flight for the trip from Portland airport to OHSU. That trip was 6 miles long and was about 1700 hundred dollars. My portion is a buck ninety five...

 

INVENTING STUFF

When you are lying around in a hospital bed you have time to think.
1.  All hospital beds should have cup holders because I kept losing track of me bottle of ice water.
2. Need retractable armatures to hold personal items, five arms should do it.
3. The phone should be wireless blue tooth along with the forehead temperature gauge thingy.
4. the TV should hang on the room divider curtain instead of the ceiling.
5. I wore SCUDS they squeeze your legs tp help prevent blood clots. You health care folks ought to make SCUDZ for BUTTZ to help prevent bedsores. #squeeze pleeze.
Get busy please.

RECAP

Two days before our 21st anniversary I slipped and went bouncy bouncy down the full flight of stairs. I landed on my right shoulder and managed to make Trauma history. No one had ever seen a radial head broken off in the chest cavity. Broke some ribs too. I asked Tim to take me to ER. Did not think about 9-1-1. I dimly remember the CT scan. Woke up 2 days later in ICU post shoulder replacement and begging for water. M y sister Carla, her hubby Mitch and brother Phil were there giving me ice chips!! Forgot I woke up in OHSU! what a fabulous place. That part of the family stayed a couple of days. Thanks guys!! Tim came next after caring for the livestock and stayed. Next day two brothers, Rich and Jim came and so did sister Gale. The visit was epic we gossiped and tpld stories! Got discharged MLK day. buggy broke down at exit 288 South I5. Got AAA tow to repair shop and rented very tiny plastic car. Weather was bad traffic was at near stand still until near Salem. We got  room for the night. finished getting home next day.  SO thankful to get home.
 

Book review

An older book one of Robert A, Heinlein's juveniles, one which I had never read.  Well!!

Called "The Rolling Stones" This is set shortly after "The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress" on the moon actually.   The Stone family is bored. Things are getting too crowded and civilized on the Moon for Castor and Pollux 16 year old twins.  They live with their father and mother, their grandmother Hazel Meade Stone (who appeared in The Moon is..) and one or two siblings.

The boys decided to go to a second rocket place and check out something to run about the solar system.  Father is not pleased, the boys have not completed their formal education.  They have the money but it is in trust for when they are older.  The entire family gets involved and they ultimately purchase the rocket with the proviso that the twins help rebuild the thing and complete their education via home study while en route to where ever.  Many educational things follow mostly higher mathematics and the author throws in a great deal of hard science.  I mental skip these pages and keep an eye out for when the mathematical formulae suddenly returns to dialog.  Isaac Azimov wrote the same way, these men were determined to push the hard part of science fiction.  Thanks Guys but I still hum tunelessly during that particular exposition sometimes with a French accent.

One of the math problems is figuring an elliptical cometary orbit by earth on their way to Mars.  On their way, they pass another passenger ship, exchange pleasantries.  They get a distress call, is any Doctor available?  Um, Mrs. Stone is a medical doctor so off she goes to go into quarantine on the War Bird to treat an outbreak of modified measles.

The Rolling Stone proceeds to Phobos and the family is reunited.  They get stranded on Mars and decide to head out to the asteroids and sell high quality goods.  Before they go they purchase a Martian critter called a flat cat, as appealing and prolific as a Tribble. 

Ultimately they have to decide if they return to the moon for the boys formal education but they all decide to chuck it and head for Titan and Saturn's Rings as Hazel had vowed to get to see them before she died, being 95 and all.  This was a delightful romp, good bedtime reading material for the kids.

Back in the time of the dinosaurs...

Reminiscing this morning.  It is a windy day on the coast.  Which brings to mind my encounters with late 19^th century technology in my grade school days.  I attended Parkview Junior High School in Emmett, Idaho. The building was actually the first high school built in Emmett and even had post grade studies for those students not quite ready for college.  I attended from the fifth grade through the eighth grade.  My eight grade class was the last class to have a graduation ceremony.  When I was in the sixth grade my teacher was Mrs. Shane. There was a janitor named Mr. Shane but they were not related nor married to each other.  Mrs. Shane had a very large wind up record player and a collection of records.  She would play some of them for us from time to time.  I remember one in particular.  I do not remember the title but it was a comedy sketch and was all about a Swede making his first ever telephone call to someone.  The reception was not good.  The story was a series of yelled lines, garbled repetitions and the last line was “The vind! The vind! Not da Devil!”.  Pretty sure it was straight from Vaudeville and one of the lesser acts. But we laughed politely, because even then Mrs.Shane made sure we knew “Vind” meant wind.  You had to be there. We also listened to some music. One was “Barney Google of the Goo Goo Googly Eyes!” Who apparently drove around in a Stutz Bear Cat, wore a raccoon coat and flirted with girls.  Dad used to sing that song.  He sang lots of oddments now and then.  As a result we grew up singing songs when we were on the road.

"Time Enough For Love" By Robert A. Heinlein.

Been re-reading an old Robert Heinlein.  I had forgotten what I loved…and hated about those stories.  His hard science explanations were brutal, probably correct but Lord only of intense interest to particle physicist and geneticist. I re-read “Time Enough For Love”.  Lazarus Long, oldest member of the Howard families and man of many names,  has been retrieved by his loving descendants.  He was near death and determined to complete the act of dying.  There is a very long couple of chapters where they have to explain why they saved him.  He told them he had lived long enough and there was nothing interesting left to do.  If they could convince him that there were more mysteries and things to learn he would go ahead with the rejuvenation.  Story telling time.   He reminisced about one planet where he raised a foundling, Dora until she got big enough to tell him that she wanted him for her husband.  He had surprisingly, fallen totally in love with Dora.  Dora knew he was a long-lived Howard and he decided he wanted nine children with her.   This story was all about leaving the outskirts in a two wagon mule train. The mules were intelligent and Buck talked quite well.  They fought off wild life, nearly died of thirst but made it up and over a rocky pass into a lovely valley.   There they settled.  Only had trouble from people once.  A wagon showed up with three men who turned out to be evil, wicked, bad and dead.  Dora had her many babies, other settlers showed up and it looked like the community was going to thrive.  Dora died at an advanced age and it was time for Lazarus to move on.  I blubbered all over that scene.  There was also the story of the man who became admiral through laziness. A young lad aged 13 raised in farm country loved to read because that meant he wasn’t doing chores.  School ended for him at age 13 and after following the south end of a mule pulling a plow he went into town, lied about his age and enlisted.  The entire story involves his efforts at trying to find more time to read involved disguising laziness as hard work.  Most amusing.  Lazarus had more generational adventures and it got boring, so he settled into a nice ending.  His kids got him partially rejuvenated when they asked him what he thought he might like to do.  He said it would be time travel.  Oh not to the deadly times just to observe some of his favorite places, things and times.  So, they got that going.  He programed his space ship for early 20^th century, Kansas City and wound up there August 1916.  He had intended to visit his family,  He was only four years old at that time.  So Lazarus went as Ted Bronson and eventually met his then family and the most important love of his live and got his arse shot off during WWI.  Now I’m trying to download “The Number Of The Beast” (Deetie and her crew meet Dora) not on Amazon and “Beyond The Sunset” (Mama Maureen’s adventures) not on Amazon.  Also there were a number of transcription errors in the digital copy that RAH would have not tolerated.  So I am off to grumble at Amazon.

 

I remember sewing.

SEWING AS I REMEMBER IT:

So I saw a Facebook post about someone whose sewing machine broke and she was going into withdrawal.  And I got to thinking about Mom. 

I do not remember Mom sewing much before she got the Necci Elna in the mid to late 50’s. I remember the salesman pitching the machine with free sewing lessons for anyone in the family nodding at me.  Little did I know that I would not touch the machine for a good 30 years.  That particular sewing machine came with a knee peddle and all sorts of plastic gears and knobs to make different stitches.  During that time the only sewing machine I ever touched was my Grandma Horn’s old manual Singer sewing machine and the one electric machine provided in my one attempt in the Home Economics class at Parkview Junior High school. More about that later.

Mom’s sewing efforts in my youth consisted of tailoring Dad’s work pants.  One leg was about one inch shorter on one side so she evened up the pant legs.  My dress of choice (by choice I mean Mom’s choice of fabric and style) consisted of shirt waste dresses with a zipper opening on the side or buttons in the front and the fabric was usually Dan River cottons.   Don’t know if that fabric is even made anymore, probably not as it was American manufacture.  Dan River cottons almost didn’t require ironing just a touch up.  And I ironed my dresses and anything else in the basket down to a certain colored towel.  So each year Mom would make me three to five new dresses.  This was usually preceded by purchasing the material and she would prewash it and I got to help hold onto as she stretched the washed material.  That was torture, as I would invariably NOT hold onto the edges adequately as we tortured the material into a roughly oblong shape.   Then she would pin and cut the pattern….and had to try it on for fit and hemming, “Stand up straight! Or the hem will be crooked!”.

Back to sewing.  My HomeEc class taught sewing and the end of year project was, surprise, surprise, a shirtwaist dress.  I worked on that thing for weeks.  Finally I brought it home to be washed as there was going to be a fashion show at school.  Mom looked at the dress, screamed, ripped it apart, sewed it back together to her specifications and I wore it to school once for the fashion show and uh I think something fatal happened to it fairly soon afterwards. 

One dress that I wish I still had and fit into was my eighth grade graduation dress.  It was black and white polka dot cotton with black trim.  The neckline was squared in the front and back with a black crisscross bit in the back.  Very sharp.  Of course it was nothing like what everyone else was wearing and being different is death amongst your peers at that age, so I hated the dress then but in perspective it was rather striking.  I shouldn’t have been such a little shit.

Then there were the quilts:  Mom used to have a quilting frame and C-clamps to adjust the frame.  Occasionally she would sew a quilt and it was a genuine party when she would get the top, batting and quilt bottom all pinned together.  None of these were ever hand quilted, the method used to fasten these quilts together consisted of a giant needle threading yarn through the quilt pieces, cutting and tying the yarn in the middle and edges of each quilt block.  This would take a couple of days and I did like cutting and tying the yarn into knots.  Grandma Horn quilted like this.  Great Grandma Lattimer hand quilted her tops.  Mom kept her birthday quilt top for over sixty years before she put it together and it is a beautiful thing preserved in a special archival box and papers waiting to enhance some of our descendant’s homes.

Permanent Press:  Came into being shortly after I graduated and left home.  My three younger sisters um suffered through endless dresses and all of those left over pieces went into quilts.  Those quilts have held up like old ironsides over the years.  My quilt top is still hanging in there, it needs new batting and cotton bottom so I have more or less archived it to decorate the top of my lovely Waterfall style wardrobe, lovely.  To my knowledge the girls went all natural fiber after an eternity of polyester during their youth.

One of the last things Mom ever sewed for me was my wedding dress in 1970.  I asked her to sew it for me, then I lived in San Rafael, California and we consulted over the phone to Emmett, Idaho.  It consisted of a armless satin sheath with a simple armless lace topper.  I wish I still fit into that.  That dress and marriage did not fare so well.  But it wasn’t bad for a starter marriage. 

When I came back to Idaho, one of the first major appliances I purchased was a sewing machine.  I didn’t want one like Mom’s.  One of my friends who had become a social worker for the state told me the brand used in the state rehab facilities (Husqvarna) so I got one of those figuring if they could use, I could use it.  It has lasted me well right up to this day.  I don’t sew all that much anymore other than to trim a hem and hand sew something needing repair. Go figure.

The weird thing is that over the years, Mom initially started sewing for her entire family as a cost savings because clothes were so expensive and fabric and patterns were cheap.  That has almost completely reversed since those days in the global economy.  It used to be I could purchase fabric, a pattern and sew myself an outfit for twelve dollars.  Now? Not so much.

And when I was a kid there was no such thing as a charity resale shop unless it was Salvation Army and we snooty Berglund’s would not be caught dead wearing such.  However, not too long ago, I shopped a genuine Versace blouse in my local resale shop for six bucks.  Hah! Take that Project Runway!!

And if anyone is interested, Phil has the Necci Elna.
PS: Just in case anyone forgot, all of the above happened with lots of yelling.