And this, good peoples, is the first thing that I'm typing, now that I'm not restricted to wearing a sling.
Just returned from the dr and the pharmacy - been maybe an hour without the sling - and already the shoulder is starting to get sore from unaccustomed usage. But.. I CAN TYPE CAPITALS (without tremendous extra effort)! And I can type reasonably fast. No more hunt & peck. Soon, I suspect, I'll be able to type with both hands without my left arm becoming quickly exhausted.
Anyway. That's the news.
Also, I bought bagels.
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it is snowing. a lot.
a month ago today i had my first ever surgery. still relegated to typing one-handed; my follow-up with the dr is on tuesday, and hopefully he will tell me (in his absurdly brisk manner) that i may dispense with this sling.
i've not managed to write a damned thing. fiction-wise, that is. i can't figure out how to engage the creative piece of my brain when i have to spend so much effort figuring out how to make the individual words happen. i've managed one crit for a friend, and will be trying to get another done today.
i have gotten back my reading brain. i read steven brust's iorich, enough of damon knight's a reasonable world to decide it isn't what i'm in the mood for right now, some tank girl. i'm not up for "serious" stuff; mebbe that'll come back later. but mostly, i've just been watching farscape and babylon 5.
there's over a foot of snow on the ground, and it ain't done falling yet. the walk needs to be shoveled, as does the driveway. i can't do anything about it. this is a problem, a matter of some degree of guilt. linda's already trashed her back the first couple weeks after i had surgery, doing my housework as well as hers and all the caretaker shit that was needed. this... sigh
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post surgical entertainment has largely been dvds of cheesy SF television. lexx - swedish erotica meets steampunk. farscape - muppets in space, how can you go wrong?. and babylon 5.
it's been a long while since i've watched bab 5. the first striking thing is the CGI. when we were watching it on tv (back before we had cable, and whatever the folks living upstairs were doing would make the screen go static, and we'd play with the rabbit ears until the picture cleared), at the time we were blown away by the realism of the cgi - they were using computer graphics for all the space scenes - no little models hanging on strings and firecracker explosions. now... its ancient video game graphics. you can practically see the pixels. in contrast, lexx - only a few years later - showed significantly improved cgi, and farscape, yet a couple more years down the pike, significantly more than that.
the second thing that is striking is how clumsy the scripts are. painfully so. season 1 gave us cardboard cutouts in place of characters, sometimes offensive stereotypes, infodumps instead of stories and the most wooden of performances of badly written dialogue. bab 5 was a vastly ambitious show, certainly more ambitious than could be supported by the director, the writers, the actors and the budget (especially in the early seasons).
still - they took on serious issues, if perhaps often in a ham-fisted way.
the one i found most chilling was that of free will, mind wiping, mind control and artificial personality constructs. the public's casual acceptance of "death of personality" as an appropriate and "humane" punishment strikes me as wrong on so many levels. and there are numerous incidents where people are controlled by [insert any number of mind controlling parasites, telepaths, aliens and what-nots]. and where in star trek these things are shrugged off, "well, it wasn't really you," and any sense of guilt or responsibility for things done while not in control of one's actions is shunted off on others (insert Kirk's anguished cry: "KHAN!"), in bab 5 these things are left less resolved, a realm of ethical ambiguity.
this, i think, is where bab 5 succeeded, despite any and all other failings. any number of characters could say, as Samuel from heroes put it: "i'm not one of the good guys, but i'm not all bad." people make decisions to achieve one good that result in another evil, or commit an evil to prevent a greater evil. actions have far-ranging and sometimes unexpected effects, and while blame is easy to assign, guilt and responsibility is a muddy, ugly thing. and the past always haunts.
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just got home from PT as linda was taking loki to the vet.
it was grey and drizzly and warm when i left home. short-sleeves warm. i spent an hour in PT. it was hot when i got out, and the sun was blinding bright in a vivid blue sky. by the time i got home - grey. as we got loki in the car, a couple drops hit us. i went back inside and the heavens opened up.
bad news - loki is profoundly unhappy. will hear more when linda gets back. (linda is back, loki is not - vet is holding her for diagnosis, but blood in the bowel is not a good thing...)
good news - driving != null.
comes back fast, this one-handed driving. all the little tricks. holding the wheel with the left knee and sliding the right hand down the wheel to hit the turn signal. use thumb to pull up for right turn, index finger to push for left. instinctually slow on blind curves to give greater response time, and break earlier when coming to turns, or anything that involves downshifting. be even more aware of the vehicles around you. give yourself extra time for everything.
thank the american people for the laziness that gives is power steering, power windows, and power locks.
--
edit from the dr office - seems I use my expressive finger for managing the turn signal. Also interesting is the automatic body movement so that any move away from a firm grip on the wheel is exchanged for 2 soft grips - signals and wipers both involve left knee up and pressed against the wheel AND the base of the thumb pressed against the other side.
Shifting is it's own thing. Left foot up on clutch, left knee pressed against wheel, move hand to stickshift, make sure surrounding environment is safe. Then, quickly, foot down, shift, foot up so knee reconnects, move hand to wheel, relax leg.
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for today:
1) in pt - was able to stretch my arm up above the plane of my shoulder.
2) after pt - linda and i went to eat at the cafe. in other words, i sat down and hung out for half an hour someplace other than my chair, the dr office, or pt.
bill declared mine "the best shoulder injury story ever." (that story being that it was sustained whilst stabbing an attacking swordsman in the chest with a spear.)
i am determined to try driving next week. popular opinion among the class of persons who are my spousal units is
while sling {
driving==null
}
but i couldn't possibly do worse than the woman in the mazda was doing, flicking her eyes up occasionally in the general direction of the road as she texted.
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| 2010-01-20 09:51 |
| ugh |
| Public |
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a volume misjudgment... different kind of glass, and magically there was a touch too much vodka.
i died last night in my dreams. quite vividly, and quite a lot. some day there may a horror story based on this.
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and looking out at the world, at the things going on, all my trials and tribulations are trivial. as of today, i can finally read. not much at a time, but those brain cells are starting to make their way through the oxycodone haze. and i'm reading about Jay Lake's ongoing cancer saga, about a friend's father who made the mistake of believing his employer when told that this asbestos stuff was perfectly safe. about haiti.
gods.
and yet, when the oxycodone hits, it's like a big slab of useless awfulness that presses down on me, smothering just about everything. there's no perspective. just me, this chair, and the pointless, stupid things that fill the time until bed. and then there's me, the bed, and the pointless stupid thoughts, until they are replaced by pointless, awful dreams.
i've been unreasonably easily frustrated, mostly at myself, but sometimes snapping unfairly at linda, who deserves in no way to be hurt, by me or by anyone else. and yet...
can an apology be meaningful when you know that it isn't over yet?
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| 2010-01-11 18:42 |
| winter |
| Public |
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yesterday was visitation day. my parents came by and properly chastised me for not telling them about my surgery in advance. when they left, i crawled into bed for a few minutes, and then the kid & his girlfriend. at the end of the day i was exhausted. that too-exhausted to sleep place. linda had no such difficulty - i think she was asleep before she lay down.
today was physical therapy, day 1. they say PT stands for pain and torture. in reality the pain was not terrible. but harrowing. gods. the getting out of the brace for the first time, the trusting the entirely too chipper therapist with my arm, the realizing that there's a safe 2-4 inches i can move in several "safe" directions, and some non-safe directions, and the learning of what those limitations are. basically an hour not of pain but of anxiety and adrenaline.
winter has been cold this year, colder than we've seen in recent years, and i often can't get the chill out of my bones. wearing an ice pack across part of ones torso at all times can wear on one.
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the post surgical brain (or perhaps the post-trauma brain - i remember this from my accident in '93 as well) is a horrendous thing. it is its own rollercoaster, complete with moments of calm, when all seems well, and the worst of it seems to be over. and then, a jaw-clenched pause at the precipice before a plunge into darkness. mix the chemistry released as the body tries to make sense of what happened to it with the chemicals that you and the doctors pump into it, and dump into the cuisinart with generous portions of helplessness, loss, pain, anxiety and fear, and you've got a lovely psychotropic concoction.
everything is magnified. the smallest kind gesture feels like a gift from the gods. but it is also when we're most vulnerable. if you really hate someone and you really want to do the greatest possible damage, this is the time.
i remember that from '93 as well.
yesterday i managed a shower of sorts. after, i was cold and shaky, and then continued to get colder. i had the up to near 80 degrees, multiple blankets, and could not stop shivering. the nice thing about modern thermometers is that the do not shatter between chattering teeth, filling one's mouth with glass slivers and mercury. the bad thing about modern thermometers is that after a while they stop working. a delayed beep and ERR on the LED screen.
today? today i am dreamsick. i woke from nightmares last night four or five times, vivid, hyperreal nightmares of deliberate cruelty in supersaturated colors. thats all i can remember of them now. had i been able i'd have taken notes when i woke each time - i feel that they were important dreams, for all their awfulness - but i had nothing with which to write within reach, within range of the machine to which i'm tethered. the nightmares have left my head, leaving nothing but the vaguest of impressions, and taken residence in the pit of my stomach, where they sit like month-old potato salad.
--
edit: of course, i totally failed to actually talk about the intended point of this post, which was to be the inability to remain on focus. i've tried reading, but cant keep my brain on the words for more than a page. linda wants me to sort out how to shunt hulu et.al. to the television so we can divest ourselves of our absurd cable tv bill, but the very idea seems insurmountable at this point.
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...of the paperwork, now that my brain is starting to regain lucidity and i can actually process what i read.
---
Proposed Surgery (line 1)
29827 Arthroscop rotator cuff repr LEFT *BEACH CHAIR*
---
ARTHROSCOPIC FINDINGS
rotator cuff intact
bone spur
shoulder joint arthitis
labrum tear: superior
PROCEDURE PERFORMED
arthroscopic joint evaluation
rotator cuff debridement (trimming frayed edges)
subacromial decompression (spur removal)
labral repair: superior
joint debridement: labrum | joint (cartilage) surface
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managed to take a half-assed shower. am exhausted and shaky. but clean.
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took off the huge pad and bloody dressings. i have 4 holes in my shoulder. no sign of infection, but my tattoo has suffered. *sigh*
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...to assist me with my balls. had to remove all jewelry for the surgery. got the rings back in, but the balls require both hands to get snapped in, and linda's been unable.
:(
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other than the burst of energy that generated yesterday's post, i slept most of the day. ate some toast, took percacet. had some broth late at night. discovered that 1 pill is inadequate.
got a very sweet email from a long lost friend, nothing from a recently lost one.
managed to read a chapter of the red tree, but i dont think my brain is together enough for vast landscapes of text.
just discovered that the PT im supposed to go to doesnt take my insurance. we have to figure something else out.
today i'm out of bed and in lindas chair, at least for now. cream of wheat for breakfast, lots of ginger ale, a tiny bit of coffee. saltines.
i do not know yet how my tattoo survived the surgery. wont until i'm allowed to pull off the dressing.
yesterday, i woke up in the recovery room fairly abruptly. took me a bit to get my lips working. a nurse saw me awake, came over, asked if i needed anything.
"Dancing girls," I managed to croak. "I was sure I ordered dancing girls."
she laughed. "they never show up when they're supposed to. sorry."
"dancing boys?" i asked.
she shrugged. "that would be nice, but no."
"ok. how about a cup of ice, then?"
---
turns out that even tho the surgery place and the associated PT is literally walking distance from my house, the only pt i'm ALLOWED to see is a 15-20 min drive away. the joy of hmos. i'm sure there are in-network poviders very close by, but i'm only allowed to go to the specific one assigned by the insurance co to my primary care physician. this is free market choice? last time i went to the hmo assigned pt, they did nothing. applied heat and electrical stim to my neck. half the time the stim macine didn't work - one of them only worked on half the pads, and they'd always forget to put in good batteries. i never even saw the therapist, just his receptionist, who, in his absence, just took the $40 per session co-pay and stuck everyone on heat and stim, no matter their problem. hopefully this has changed in the intervening years; otherwise i'm fucked.
dont have the energy to write a "we dont need health insurance reform, we need the insurance cos to die" post, but consider it #included here.
---
edit:
turns out that
1. the surgeon is not allowed to get me into PT - only my PCP is allowed.
2. i have to contact the PCP and request this.
3. the PCP is not allowed to send me to PT until...
4. we call the surgeon and get him to contact her and provide her with some paperwork.
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surgical news: he decided that he didnt need to repair the rotator cuff. it was intact enough that he could just "shave" it. he did find a labral tear, as he suspected, and he did something blue to it - not exactly sure what. there's pictures. they show blue stuff.
i'm home with the iceman, in bed, and finally feeling marginnally well enough to deal with this one-handed ytping thing.
so - the iceman. its a beer cooler with an engine. you put in ice and water, it pumps the water through a hose into a cooling pad thats wrapped around my shoulder.
my arm is in a sling. itll be that way for a while. PT starts in 3-5 days. still a bit nauseated. just took my first pain pill, so we
'll see how that works, and how long i remain lucid.
scariest part was was before the surgery. between pre-surgery jitters, linda becoming dramatically ill just before new years and remaining so until today, and some other stuff that some of you have regrettably been made privy, i've essentially not slept or eaten for 2 days before the surgery. nothing like stressing your body before abusing it, right?
anyway, it happened while the nurse was putting in the IV. she stuck the needle in, got it set, and blood started pouring out. she got the tube on, was holding the needle in place while getting the tape when the hose popped off. lots of blood, and she had no hands with which to deal. and stomach turned left. i felt cold. i tried to tell her that i might get sick, but i could't get the words to come out. my tongue woulgn't move. and the blood spills out of my hand, out of hers, over the little pad and onto the stretcher - she's flustered and first she notices i'm about to pitch out of the bed is because i've started sweating so much that the tape is falling off and the iv is coming out.
there are calls for help, anf they lay me flat, stick O2 in my nose and wave things in front of my nose. i cant move. they are telling me how to breathe, and i try to do what they say, but it isnt helping. one of the nurses is doing something to my head - stretching my neck out via my cheekbones or temples, and saying, "wake up! talk to us!" and i AM awake, i just cant do anything. i try to tell them. i try to speak. my tongue is a thousand miles wide. "he's totally out," says the nurse. "and frothing." i can feel the bubbles on my lips. i'm afraid of what will happen if i puke in the middle of this. i'm concious enough to be embarrassed, but i cant make my body respond. they think i'm completely passed out. they call for the anesthesiologist, and eventually i come out of this shockfugue state. they strip me of my sopping wet gown and wipe me down with paper towels, replace the sopping wet blamket, and when i'm steady enough to stand, they strip off the wet sheets. i can apparently produce greater than my body mass of sweat when i go into shock.
i've done this once before with IVs, when i was desperately ill and dehydrated. whats odd is needles dont bug me, and i've never had a problem giving blood or doing blood tests.
enough for now.
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| 2009-12-21 12:44 |
| focus |
| Public |
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Focus has been difficult of late. This is brni-norm for November and December, but perhaps worse this year.
Focus will continue to be wonky for a bit. Work is going to involve a lot of travel the next few weeks as we try to get as much of the heavy lifting done as possible while I can still do it. January focus will probably be for shit what with pain pills and physical restrictions.
But.
I think it is time to shift the focus from writing short stories to finishing a novel or two. So. Finish up a couple in-progress short stories, then launch into longer form fiction.
A new year's resolution, made on the darkest day of the year. We'll see how that works out.
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The moon's lying on her back, legs raised in expectation of the Solstice as she glints off the snowcapped world. Should be an interesting night.
The annual Pizzelle Day festivities died a snowy death on Saturday, so Linda decided to make them today, without the gathering of family members to share the labour. So she finally allowed me to work a pizzelle iron. I was largely successful, and only burned a couple. We drank traditional anisette and listened to Christmas Music.
Christmas Music apparently consists of Crash Test Dummies God Shuffled His Feet, Jethro Tull Songs From the Wood and Cocteau Twins Heaven or Las Vegas, set on shuffle. A surprisingly good mix.
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The Kates and IIt was our first real fight, me and the Kates. I mean, there'd been plenty of normal childhood bickering: pushes and shoves, pinches and hair-pulling and nasty words, and of course the inconsolable crying jags and transient I-hate-you-forevers. But this one was different. ( read the rest of my sappy Christmas story )This story is a part of the Spec the Halls contest for speculative winter holiday-themed fiction, artwork, and poetry. You may find guidelines and links to other entries at http://www.aswiebe.com/specthehalls.html
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A long and exhausting trip to Virginia is complete. Or over, at least. I didn't get everything done that was needed, but then, I thought there'd be 3-4 of us working on this stuff. A combination of illness and delayed travel and it became mostly just me... (Thanks to Andy for helping with some of the heavy lifting.)
One cool thing. Hitting the TV remote after staggering to the hotel room late Tuesday night, I heard that D.C. City Council had overwhelmingly ratified a bill legalizing equal marriage rights. Blink Didn't even know it was on the table. But it's a bill, it's going to the mayor to sign, and he's already pledged to do so.
'Course, because D.C. doesn't actually have any rights, after being voted on by the city legislature and signed into law, it can't go into effect until the U.S. Congress reviews and ratifies. So we'll see what happens. Still...
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/05/AR2009050501618.html
and
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/discussion/2009/12/02/DI2009120201784.html
for details.
Interestingly, of the 2 dissenting votes, one was from former mayor Marion Barry, who voted against the bill because he wanted to be with those who "stand on the moral compass of God." This would be the same Marion Barry who, while mayor, went to hotel rooms with hookers and smoked crack? Ah. Yes. That moral compass.
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...I must admit that my iPhone lies.
This story goes back to... well, it goes back, and the most recent installment was in 2007: http://brni.livejournal.com/2007/10/24/ - a requiem for my boots. I have not had or worn boots since then.
Now, I'm looking at getting a pair of boots, for much the same reason. I'll be one-armed for 4-6 weeks in the dead of winter, and I very much need not to fall down. But now I have more criteria to deal with:
1) help me not fall down in the ice and snow while my arm is out of commission.
2) good arch support
3) be generally useful
4) look good with the utilikilt.
Best chance of finding something that meets all these criteria is online, but at this point, I'm not even sure how to size my feet for boots, or how to compare what I order to anything else. Last time I bought boots, after all, was 1994. So I decided to go to a Timberland store. Try some things on. Get a feel for it, before I start ordering off the intarwebs. Went to King of Prussia mall on friday - got there at 3, drove around for a while trying to find parking. Mall was already full of annoying, pushy people. And... the store had moved. It had moved into the OTHER mall. By this time it was already 4pm, and streets and traffic and people were rapidly getting ugly, so I decided to cut my losses and split. Besides, when I did a search on my iPhone, I discovered that there was a Timberland store that WASN'T in a mall and was actually closer to my home.
Today I went there. Timberland... Timberland... Timberland... um. No. No Timberland, but there WAS a sign for Logan Coal and Timber. Drats. Foiled again.
Damn iPhone.
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