2008 news, notes and links

Go, Dr. L., Go!

gingerpetunia — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 17:47:24 GMT

It's hour four here at the hospital. Dogg's check in was at 5:30am so now at 9:40am and I'm just sittin waiting for the doc to come out and shake my hand like in June for the last surgery. Deja vu anyone? Deja vu anyone? The people here are nice, two gals even remembered us from this summer. I'd guess 6 out of every 7 people who walk by me have a Starbucks coffee cup. Red with Christmas trees on em and a white lid. I brought my own 16oz mug and got a house blend for 2 bucks while the others around me bought $6 carmel machiatos or wtf they're spelled. The last surgery took 2 hours and Dogg was released two days later. This time he's slated for a five-day stay. I am trying to figure out how to load some Iron Maden on our cheap off-brand mp3 player. It seems to not want to douche my "Angels and Airwaves" and "Lagwagon" and "Ween" I guess the bitch is more EMO like mom is. Not that Ween or Lagwagon are emo bands... but anyway. I'll let you know Dogg's alive when the doc comes out smiling. Till then keep us in your good vibey thoughts. I don't care if you're Gnostic or not, prayers, good thoughts, crossed fingers... give us whatever mental joy you're able to spare. And be glad if you're fairly healthy. Waiting sucks. I mean... Good times, Good times. Photo credit to Craig's mom.

Thanks Friends

gingerpetunia — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 15:06:23 GMT

Due to overwhelming response, it is clear we'll have friends behind us. I'm so honored at the replies! Still send leads on places $550/mo or less in Reno! I'm not sure if we'll find it before the surgery, but it's clear we won't be hobos. You are awesome people. xo gp

slaw in seconds

gingerpetunia — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 01:22:47 GMT

Smoosh 4 cups cabbage into the sink disposal drain. Turn on disposal. Add 1/2 c. mayonnaise 2 tbsp. vinegar or lemon juice 1 tbsp. grated onion 1/2 tsp. celery seed 1 tsp. sugar 1/2 tsp. salt 1/8 tsp. pepper catch it in a bucket as it spews from the drain yum it's slaw in seconds

Valley Fever

gingerpetunia — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 19:37:29 GMT

I quit my J-O-B in 2001. Hit the road with $3000 saved up in cash. Immaculate credit and a 1990 car I had affectionately named "Buckwheat" Buckwheat was a pull-me-over red 4-door hatchback with just enough room for me to bring everything I could think of needing. I showed up to do festival set-up 118 degree heat, girl with asthma from back east. think indoor sit-down jobs experience meets survivor. I camped in a tent in the dust in the desert and ate my meals outside. there was no indoor plumbing either. My mind was ready but my body got hit. I collapsed in a fever of 1 hundred and four. I was sweating in a climate where sweat evaporates before you can even produce sweat. wicked away. if some kind kids i met there hadn't taken care of me I could possibly have died. Asthma and Valley Fever is a bad mix. I was fed canned peaches for two days and water with Tabasco. other strange flu remedies and plain old water. sleep. i slept and slept flies. the flies in my tent i felt all third world dying. i was achy and sore for weeks after but eventually it faded away and i was back to me The delirium of Valley Fever left an imprint on me I still know. But that what doesn't kill us; doesn't kill us, so... Please keep my friend Roy in your good thoughts. I got a call last night from his wife who I went to school with in Virginia. They moved to San Joaquin Valley from Pennsylvania... Roy is a dad of two kids under 12. He has Valley Fever. Diabetes complicates it. And that he's an Hispanic man. I know he can come thru it in the hospital I came thru it in a tent. Come on Roy! Here's a photo of 2005 Fourth of Juplaya. Good Times - Good Times.

Oh! The keys.

gingerpetunia — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 09:42:52 GMT

What's so damn important about bits of molded metal? And then you're the one behind the locked door. Oh! The keys.

Cogent Evidence

gingerpetunia — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 06:55:38 GMT

The present occurrence, ends with one next exhale. Evidence is meaningless. Another inhalation is important. All drama aside, this cycle is it all. Cogent evidence everything is alright.

snowy

gingerpetunia — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 15:02:09 GMT

http://www.pbase.com/gingerpetunia/pyramid_lake_winter we got hit with snow again after 60 degree days. yay almost spring

the analog-to-digital TV transition

gingerpetunia — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 05:48:27 GMT

Understanding the analog-to-digital TV transition Coming to a broadcast TV near you, or hopefully, not if you have a clue. February 17, 2009 Recycle your TV. Give it away. Turn it off. Or only use it as a monitor. This coupon thing for TV, buy a converter crap. 50 bucks if you don't submit your personal info to get the coupon. And wait... that's per TV. You can't even share the device with other sets in your home. Oh there's technology to, they just want you to buy more devices. Devices that do what? Tax your free TV. Buncha BS. pipeline in the soma Maybe you cable TV buyers are already hooked into the veins maybe if you have a 69" plasma hoohoo you don't care about this Then I actually thought worse of it all having gone to the coupon website. So, I have a PO BOX rural ranch no mail service delivery comes to the trailer. two stations on a good day if you don't buy sat service cause ain't no cables here. They still want you to give a street address if you give a PO BOX What is this a damn census? Most people are going to charge this convenience / comfort device on their credit card anyway. They gonna match em up? Counting TVs now there's a novel approach to knowing how many Americans there are. Good Americans Here's your TV. You get a coupon. We get your soul. No thanks. I'm not entirely bitter. I'd just rather skip this quiz. Am I alone? I mean i'm a sucka for some good shows but not this much.

no way

gingerpetunia — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 03:38:17 GMT

Today was breezy and chilly in the shade, but in the sun, glorious. 54 felt like 70. I drank soup for lunch at my desk so I could lounge around my whole lunch break reading. When the time came for my break I walked to the quad and sat under a tree to read away an hour. The quad lawn is mostly goose poo but it's grass got-damnit, and I wanted to pretend it's spring. Face in the sun, lean on tree. I was completely engrossed in 'The Last True Story I'll Ever Tell' subtitled An accidental soldier's account of the war in Iraq. I had two bucks in quarters and the book and a phone. Well typical of me, the phone fell out of my pocket while I read. I had checked the time on it once, and when shoving it back in my pocket I guess it just didn't make it. Four hours later, realizing the phone was no longer in my command, I thought back on lunch. Oh crap. I bet it fell out when I was reading! My mind raced back to checking the time. Forty jittery minutes later when I could flee back to the tree where I had sat and read and it was actually freaken there. It was nestled in my butt-print in the goose poop. I threw up in my mouth a little from relief and gave thanks.

how do you ask this?

gingerpetunia — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 04:52:08 GMT

This is horribly embarrassing. My neighbor across the street totally knows my name and I don't know hers. Normally it would not matter but today she waddled across the street saying, "Hey Ginger! Check it, I'm 8 months pregnant!" I don't know what is worse, that I didn't know she was pregnant or that I never really heard her say her name loud enough to make out what it was when we met the first time and then I faked it after that. Luckily she told me she only found out at 4 months and has been inside a lot. I felt better about not knowing she was with spawn. We probably haven't done the across-the-street wave in about... come to think of it, four months. So how do you ask someone for their name after you've known them for a year? I mean, we never got deep enough before for it to matter. But now, I gotta find out her name! How do I find out her name?

earthquake

gingerpetunia — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 15:54:15 GMT

News travels fast these days. Elko, NV, had a nice fluffy 6.3 earthquake. 19 minutes later ma and pa messenged from God's Waiting Room to ask if we felt it. That's freakin fast. It must have made morning national tv news or something huh? I have not had an earthquake experience yet. Seen hurricanes by the dozens... Wonder if we'll get the BIG ONE here anytime soon. We are supposedly due for the hundred year massive. Every time I leave SF by the Bay Bridge on the lower span I am grateful the BIG ONE didn't happen then. I am flee-town ready or whatever they're calling emergency preparedness these days, but I am not the-house-fell-on-me ready. I am not earthquake ready. I better take those hammers off the top shelf above the bed... Ha! No, I don't sleep with hammers. Just doggs and cats. The only thing in the sleeping chamber is a life raft and two squat filing cabinets and a giant picture window measuring 7 foot by 4 foot. Nothing too dangerous. right? No, really I know to get away from the windows. Except to see saturn. Go outside tonight. Last night was closer, but it is still damn close. It was about as close as it will be in a long time. I heard if you had binoculars you could have seen the rings or ya know, something like that. Did anyone else see Saturn first hand with a telescope? The photo here is today's sunrise. Ya gotta be early for it. That pink color last for about 7 minutes right before dawn. Once the sun is up it's too bright. Before then it's too dark. This was just right.

Long Live Your Heart

gingerpetunia — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 20:26:52 GMT

"Long Live Your Heart" Watercolor and paint pencils on paper. Kitchen sponge hand made stamp. On reverse it has recipient name and says "Long Live Your Heart" I have four left from the batch I made. Icky and Buddy get two because I have their address. First two people to claim the others get em. Send address off list. Normally I'm not a huge Val-day celebrant. Today though, for whatever crazy reason, I got up at 4 am and started painting these. I sat up in bed with the line in my head. Long Live Your Heart. So there you go. best wishes.

jones for empty space?

gingerpetunia — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 03:43:18 GMT

Missing the desert? Go there in yer mind. http://s139.photobucket.com/albums/q294/gingerpetunia/?albumview=grid First two or three pages I think. Didn't count. The first couple pages are the playa but also include Nixon, the ranch, Gerlach, and the highways back and forth. They are not in order it skips around. They look better big. Ya know, life size, actually there in it. Happy winter desert wishes. Hope you feel free. Free as a bird on a bone by some bikes.

on balanced procrastinating... and Darren Mack

gingerpetunia — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 21:08:05 GMT

Procrastinator ideals: If I relax long enough, it will be easier to start. I do some of my best work under pressure. My creative juices flow when I am squeezed. I will get it all done in my own time schedule. ------------------------- I know about these things. I used to live most of my life in a scramble. When I got diagnosed with ADD at 31 & they put me on speed and I said yuck, fuck speed (sorry fans of speed, I know, can you have my scrip? NO!) Medicine offered nothing much but pills back then. But a few people were discovering what I would find. I looked online and found some people with ADD were advocating for getting super organized because clutter contributes a huge portion of energy to an ADD mind's already busy multi-track multi-tasking multi-mess. So over a couple years I got organized. I used a professional organizer which really helped turn things around. Not everyone needs one. A lot of the info is online now. I liked using a coach and think it sped up the learning process. Now, a lot more often, I can say YES I know exactly where to find my keys, shoes, coat, ID, and gear! I have even helped others get more organized now that I have been practicing it for so long. I still sometimes struggle with paperwork. I have to remember to throw it out often or it piles up fast. No process is perfect. They say it takes 21 days to pick up a new habit. I remember that about every 42 days. Thank goodness for sticky notes, eh? So now it's almost 10 years after I found organization (around 99-2k). I am grateful to have found balance in being organized most of the time. I admit every now and again I allow a down day or two. I totally took yesterday off. Took an early Sunday on a Thursday. I knew there was a lot to do Friday so, to prepare, I did... nothing! I just relaxed. It made today easier. Today's agenda: Dentist, bank, bills, PT. Made future appointments for routine things like doctors and eye care. WOO! Now, instead of putting stuff off until it's scary, I can take a down day, rev up and tackle the duties, without putting it off the ADD way - waiting until stuff bonks you on the head, overdue for action. Good luck procrastinators! I feel ya. -------------------------------- And let me add... for those of you who are following the Darren Mack case... The judge is reading his sentence on local tv it is being covered. It is on right now. Judge is totally reaming him a new one. Saying how he did not seem even a little remorseful about either his wife nor the judge that he tried to kill. The sentencing Judge is Doug Herndon saying this stuff live -giving the sentence now and if I understand it correctly (which I might not have heard right): Life with the possibility of Parole after 20 years for killing Charla. Then consecutively 20 years with possibility of parole after 8 years for shooting at the Judge in Reno. Then 20 more years with chance of parole after 8 years -for commissioning the crime with a firearm. Judge said it would be Un-American and unfair to let Mack serve the terms concurrently for it would negate the punnishment for each of the crimes which were separate events. IF my math is right it means he can get out in like 36 years? 20 plus 16...? So around 80 years old? Mack was listed as born in 1961 when I googled it -according to wikipedia, which you guys know is not a credible source, right? Even if it usually has some pretty good info and often has interesting correct info. But back to the sentencing -Judge Herndon voiced hope, and seemed to even cry a little, sniffed and paused, that Mack would man up and forget his sentences and be the best parent from behind bars he can be. Reno is so small, I kept bumping into people who claim to be connected to the case when it first happened. Well, even the day of the shooting I was in Reno when they closed off six blocks and it became a police state while they looked for who shot at the judge. The security guard of Charla's gated community who was working the night she was brutally murdered got fired for leaving a balled up suicide note in the gatehouse on a shift the week after the murder. He ended up working security at an event I worked and since it was right when it happened the guy wanted to talk about it. Then I heard scandalous things about Mack from a very weird local source. Someone claiming to be the new assistant coroner said that Mack had cut off his wife's breasts because "They were mine, I bought them." Anyway, that's what this person claimed... drinking... who knows could be fake... In France at a really rural bar at a crossroads of farmlands I met a girl who said, "No way! you're American? We met two other American boys! Come meet them." But the boys were not even American. They were pretending to be from Ohio. The boys said, no not Ohio, really Vitre, France and please don't give us away we like these girls... I did tell the girls they boys were lying, and they said they knew and had fun getting the boys busted by introducing them to us and then we all got drunk together anyway.

Arthur Ashe

gingerpetunia — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 18:04:13 GMT

Two years ago I wrote this in honor of Arthur Ashe. I meant to run it again last year but forgot. Well, today is Februray 6 2008. That means Ashe died 15 years ago today. I think the media is missing a huge chance to honor a hero. What would the world be like if we had Arthur Ashe in it for the past 15 years? Well, we didn't. trop triste. (too sad). Here is my blog on Arthur Ashe from 2006: "True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost." --Arthur Ashe You don't hear a lot about Arthur Ashe anymore. But today is the 13th anniversary of his untimely death a few months before he would have turned 50 years old. Ashe died of AIDS from a blood transfustion which he got during a heart transplant, back in the days when AIDS was new, misunderstood, and much scarier than it seems today. Even though AIDS is still scary, it was truly worse then. Ashe is buried next to his mom in the small, plain nondescript Woodlawn Cemetery of Richmond, VA. One very strange day many years ago, doing some community service, I found myself at his graveside walking with a busload of incarcerated black women. I can still feel the silence of the many minds whirling. We stood there, looking. Silent. Listening. I wonder how they turned out, those ladies. Did they get past their stigmas? Ashe wasn't allowed to play tennis, growing up, at the city's courts in Richmond because of the color of his skin. Now he's mentioned on the city website for public tennis courts. After Ashe died, a statue was erected on Monument Avenue where confederate soliders are memorialized including: Robert E. Lee Jeb Stuart Jefferson Davis certain other Southern Civil War era leaders. Ashe's wife asked that instead his statue be placed at a tennis court named in his honor, but the statue ended up on the Southern city's walk of fame / shame. (depending on who you ask) I would like to have seen his statue towering over the tennis court where he wasn't allowed to play as a kid, before he won the US Open and Wimbledon. But Monument Avenue won, somehow. Maybe it's oddly appropriate. Monument Avenue is near a state University and has large, dingy, cheap roach-infested rooming houses nestled up against well- groomed, massive gated mansions. All the buildings are quite similar, It's just different how they were treated. On Memorial day two years before Arthur Ashe died I was living on that Avenue. I awoke startled -was that really the sound of flute and drums? Looked out the window to see more grey coats than blue, marching. Monument Avenue's Memorial Day parade didn't attract many people, especially not many yankees, it was mostly rebs and other funky weirdness: A trany giving head to her client, a granny walking her purebreed; tourists and rapists, drunks & soccer moms. Teens playing frisbee... ahhh Monument Avenue. When Arthur Ashe contracted AIDS it was still so new, and the stigma of the disease was almost worse than the stigma of his skin color. Now AIDS is viewed a bit differently, and so are black men and women, but still, millions of people around the world are not treated fairly, every day. We still have a long way to go down the road to compassion land. Land where man and women can feel free and equal. Regardless of their social status, their skin, and all the other ways we try and make it seem like we're seperate beings. February 6 In honor of Arthur Ashe's death, I'm gonna meditate that stigmas lose power. Maybe you'd like to do that too. Talk about stigmas and how to stop them. We are One Love

it's not finished

gingerpetunia — Tue, 05 Feb 2008 04:24:11 GMT

It is possibly going to be an organizer for hair clips. It is more likely to turn into an odd diorama perhaps glue gun some shit on there. The push pins are a temporary thing while it is figured out. I am trying to find a use for the moderate pile of lace and ribbon Dogg's mom gave to me. One grandma and six of my great aunts in NYC were seamstresses so I grew up doing lace crafts. Very few of them are practical for me to do today. The put-your-baby-teeth-in-it pillow about 30 years too late... I don't have any slips to re-hem or lengthen. I am not finding cute practical modern uses for ribbon. Googling it makes me dizzy. Anyone got good solid fun links to stuff to use some of it for while I have time? Meanwhile Spike the cat has more hair growing in every day. You can see if I start a project, he likes to help by sitting on it.

Kiss my Real Grits from now on

gingerpetunia — Sun, 03 Feb 2008 18:50:16 GMT

Wow, what a difference real slow cooked grits make in taste! Not that it is surprising, real is often better, real oatmeal, real slow cook rice versus instant. Guess it's kind of a gimmie. Have had them in the south but had only ever cooked the quick cook 5 minute stuff so I didn't really know what I was missing. What a difference 15 minutes is. Thanks to Buddy of PDF fame -the mushroom man. Buddy on his recent trip to Georgia, picked up for me a bag of REAL grits. He sent it through the mail and it survived the travel without injury. It comes in a sack closed with a copper wire twisty. It was hard not to tear into the bag right away but I wanted to wait until the weekend to make it and relax and eat it slowly. Grits as slow food. I may not be working desk hours but the PT and appointments take a lot of time when I'm not sleeping, Weekends, other than making sure to move and not get stiff, there isn't formal plans. So yesterday in preparation I made a rasher of bacon. I was saving two pieces to be the bacon crumblies in the grits. It is good to make them beforehand so it crumbles nice. But it worked out that the the animals in the house found the bacon and none was left today for the grits. I can't blame them but would have to make due without bacon in this beginning batch. I undid the bendy and peered inside the bag. First off, these real grits are full size. I guess they pulverize the instant ones so they are smaller particles to boil up. Also, there is color variation. It isn't all bleachy white -it's got yellows and browns like real life corn. Instead of the bacon, I added some pepper jack at the end of the 20 minutes cook time and yum. Real grits. I rejoiced to know I've been making leftovers right instinctively for years. You pour off the left overs into a glass. Grits is filling and you cain't always can finish a pot. Refrigerate it and it gets firm. Slide it out of the glass like cranberry sauce in the can and slice it in rounds. Add water in a simmering pan and it comes back to life. It said as much on the bag. Also on the bag, it had the other name for grits: Georgia Ice Cream. Now I really know why.

up and out!

gingerpetunia — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 21:32:34 GMT

Today was the big day. I left the studio and went to the gym for a swim. ADD can't count how many laps but I can clock watch and I swam for a half hour. Not allowed to do frog kicks yet so the repertoire consisted of a made up combination of flipper kicks and gyrations. There were many rewards. For one thing, the fire department was parked outside the pool. Two ladder tucks filled the wall-length windows. I floated on my back to watch the firemen wind up their hoses and pull off. How exciting. This was definitely better than looking out the window at the alley birds. My next reward was to enjoy the endorphines (spelling unknown - too lazy to look) rush of pain free time, long enough to visit peeps. Chose to brave the ice and go see Heather, Natalie, Jasmine, Jirish and excitable Shoethiefa, plus of course the ever calm Angus. It was good being social with people who don't care that you're coming out of a two week narcotic stupor and can only hang for a few minutes but it was just what was needed. Some actual sunshine hitting actual skin. This snow keeps circling around playing tag with the sun. This photo was taken during that game. black clouds and white light dancing. wheee.

gingerpetunia — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 07:02:10 GMT

little black birds; tweet tweet tweet! they splash in puddles left by snow. fly to telephone wires above the street. sun themselves dry in the midday warmth. dive bomb down to the trash to peck. graceful city birds; tweet tweet tweet. .

It is way to early for this

gingerpetunia — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 15:40:40 GMT

The knee bone's reconnected to the shin bone. The thigh bone's reconnected to the knee bones. The meniscus is shaved down and fixed now. Would someone please tell them to shut up? I woke to the feeling of the screw rubbing against flesh. Oh noes! Did I sleep wrong. Can you sleep wrong? Isn't any sleep good sleep? Why am I wide awake at 6:30am. Should I go to the gym and beat the crowds? Go back to bed? Housework? Pain pills? Write about it? Put some music on? The options in the silence in the dark are wide and I am awake. I know I've slept wrong on a pillow before and then had to outlast how my ribs felt for two days after; like I had slept with a pillow under my ribs. But that was obvious. This pain isn't obvious. Unless you figure they swapped out a bunch of parts recently. I guess it's all normal. IT's been going on a few days. The PT room is filled with us knee people and so on Friday I payed attention to the buzz to listen for hints about this. OK, so I'm not the only one. There's definitely talk of night pains. So what do you do? I can go about 18 hours during the day (some days 4 hours, but we're talking about good days) and be fine but upon laying down in the bed it is as if the puppeteer pulls on a sting connected to the screw in the Tibia. I do give the knee rest, I give it exercise...vitamins. I guess even when you do it right there's gonna be some agony. I mean they drilled bones. But I won't end this on that. I have other good interesting things to add. OK, So... actually, everything I try to type it's all coming out as bitching. That's too bad. When you're ouchie the bile spews. Well, next time someone hands me their asshat It will easier to be compassionate. Maybe they have pain. Pain changes what colors you see. But the good thing is... Yeah, see, I'm tryin to be nice again. But I just don't want to be nice just yet. Talk to you in a bit. *The photo is called Four Heads and a Bunch a Roses.

Feel the Screws

gingerpetunia — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 22:49:03 GMT

The Physical Therapy is going ahead of schedule. I do the homework faithfully. Today while it snowed and snowed outside, I rode the stationary bike and did my heel slides. It is snowing quite steadily now although it is also sunny. I'm sure there's a snow-bow out there but I'm inside and can't get facing the right way to see it. But that's OK. I know it's there. I did go out in it for PT earlier this morning. Delicate little flakes melted on my eyelashes while I trekked on crutches from the car to the PT appointment. That was enough of the outside world for me today. The ice scares the shit out of me and I stay off it. The PT guy (who happens to be named Craig) showed me where one of the screws is in my leg below the knee and told me that I'll be able to find it better when more of the swelling goes down. I still marvel at the science part of what they did to me. I feel kind of accomplished today. I didn't do anything important out in the broad world like MLK did -I'm thinking about him cause it's King day. No, I didn't do anything like that. It's all personal best stuff. It's big to me things like bending the leg 5 more degrees toward my butt and standing on the weaker leg for longer and longer. But these little victories are so sweet to me cause it means I'm closer to healthy. Health is pretty much the only thing that matters, at least, it feels that way when you don't have it. But I do have quite a good bit of health back now. It was much harder before the surgery, the months after the injury when I had to figure out a way to walk with no ACL and live with the pain and how to get around safely -walking in the fear of the random buckling of the knee at any moment. Having a fast heart rate near curbs and stairs. That part was rough. This part, with good drugs and PT coaches, seems easy. Today they introduced stairs for the first time. I was to step up a stair and back down the stair a total of 30 times. I laughed at their little task. For while I'm just now cleared to do stairs I have been doing them for two weeks on my own because every time I want to leave the studio, which is on the second floor, I have to hobble down 16 stairs and then to come home have to go up them again -so I was already doing 30 stairs three times a week when they said I could walk stairs. I broached this at PT and said hey, I know I was s'posed to be going down stairs really, on my butt, but they're cement stairs at the studio and it's cold out. The doctor's instructions every step of the way has been to do as much as I can tolerate and let the body say when enough is enough so as long as I been tolerating it, I been doing the stairs with crutches. PT guy said it is all good but said, make sure to go slowly -which I do -because a fall at this point in the healing, could mean total disaster. But then he flipped it and said it's incredible. He couldn't name any other of his patients from memory who were doing stairs at two weeks. I think all that effort to stay active before the surgery, even though I was injured, helped. I think some of the muscles healed up so when they were cut they were strong. I think if I had had this done right after the accident it could have been much harder. So somehow, it's working out. Humping it up those 16 cement steps after PT today was pretty exhausting after doing 30 steps in PT. But wow, I did 62 stairs today. That's accomplished for this stage. 18 days post op.

art on the wall

gingerpetunia — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 19:18:38 GMT

Thank You Kevin for Art! It was nice to stare at this during the blotto days of recovery. Do you think it looks weird mounted on a mirror? That's where it is afixed for now. The walking gets easier in dots and dashes. Weight bearing as tolerated. I crocheted a scarf for dogg and dragged out my old "dudes" to replicate. Dudes were little crochet faces that spontaneously erupted from yarn by crochet one time I was freestylin. I'll take a photo of one soon. I think there are four or five dudes but i can never find them all at the same time. They are about the size of a small hand puppet. In addition to crochet the scarf and dudes the blanket is coming along too.

doing the mending

gingerpetunia — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 04:47:28 GMT

Well maybe it seems obvious and cheesy but I made a decision to do the (clothes) mending while I'm stuck here doing the (physical) mending post knee op. I fixed several items of clothes that had gotten too holey but were too loved to toss out and also took the time to add 6 patches to my hoodie. Hoodie Use #88 -Inspired by a need for Comfort AND Warmth. Use the hood (rolled up) as a pillow while wearing the hoodie. I also started a new blanket out of yarn as seen in the photo. The backdrop is an older blanket. They are both made entirely out of half-stitches in crochet. It is basically one long daisy chain.

3:22 am to 5:15am

gingerpetunia — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 13:15:49 GMT

3:22 a dialog with pain. I yelled over to pain expectantly, "Percoset, Percoset." Pain countered, "Pop 100 of 'em, see if I care." I whispered to pain, "Mary Jane Mary Jane" Pain replied, "Mary who? Mary what? Shut up slut." I offered pain a cookie. Pain laughed at me. I reminded pain, dawn soon lets not fight about it all night. Pain snuck in a zinger: "I have limited time to piss you off. You will not always have the body to bitch about." I resigned to sit quietly listen to trains honk in the dark. No longer waiting for... Just here observing now. Pain, exhausted nodded off first.

Standing Oh!

gingerpetunia — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 02:16:26 GMT

Look at that photo. That is the power of standing, which I am allowed to do as tolerable. That is the power of following the P.T. exercises to the letter and spirit. I'm doing all the stuff on the PT lists to get strong fast because dear Dogg returns to work this week at the ranch and I stay here with a lot to juggle while healing. I'm not a sissy healer though and am already working on getting back to normal. Although suddenly I don't like crust on my pb&j sandwich anymore. Did the previous owner of my knee hate crusts on their pb&j or is it just the pain induced time warp in here? Things like cleaning out the cat box and taking a shower without falling seem to be going great. Other mundane chores that normally are easy will be harder. Taking out the trash in snow in crutches down a flight of stairs is out of reach. I'm technically still supposed to take stairs on my butt. There's more weeks of P.T. weaning off the meds, learning to use the new leg. Exercises include leg lifts and slides. Sometimes it feels like there is a jagged broom stick broken off handle sewn in there when it is sore but then knowing there's a dance of threads and bits in there a scientific recipe of loops and knots. It's damn lovely. Progress walking comes in fits and starts. Highlight of the week: 8 glorious painful minutes on the stationary bike at P.T. got knee up and all the way around frontwards and backwards. If I can bike, things can't be that bad. That's Spike with a lion haircut in the photo and some of the medical gadgetry scattered about.