Archive for the ‘Family’ Category

Enjoying the life of a lioness on the Serengeti

May 4, 2010

There are some pretty disappointed critters in our backyard today, I cut the grass. It has only been four weeks, but there was a lot of moisture, rain/storms, while we were gone.

Mother rabbit was hanging around most of each day with her ears visible in the tall grass. I’m thinking she was enjoying the life of a lioness on the Serengeti. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of an occasional coyote, nor did she look up much to be aware of the red tails in the neighborhood. Anyway, without the cover she’ll feel more vulnerable and go back to her predawn hours.

My many friends in the mole family have had their shenanigans revealed. Is there a four-wheel drive hand mower for those soft spots? It’s time to put out my I HAVE TRAPS! sign.

A treat of treats has been the baby chipmunks. In all these years, I had never seen a baby chipmunk. We have four! They are obviously honing their skills, exploring and doing some low-level climbing. One found a hole along the edge of a brick walk. It would disappear, come back out, disappear again. They found maple seeds interesting.

I remember when I saw my first chipmunk in Minneapolis. They always were in the north woods of Minnesota, but I didn’t see one in Minneapolis before the 70s. Now, seeing them in Saint Louis really seems odd to me.

Our late Schnauzer, Katie,  did a pretty good job of critter control, dragging a squealing mole out of the ground cover, finding baby rabbits fun to catch and kill. When she barfed up an entire mole on the family room floor, we found her willingness to share her spoils a little much.

The spot on the carpet is still there twenty years later. Oh, we clean at it and render it invisible. But it comes back,

Not a happy activity

January 14, 2010

Having space in our house held hostage by a couple sets of old encyclopedias was resolved this morning. After repeated attempts to find a home for them, I drove to a recycling company which handles hardcover books. Slipping them into a slot on the top of a green dumpster was not a happy activity. I grew up too soon following the Great Depression to enjoy tossing anything that holds many hours of labor and years of quality care.

The  Encyclopedia Britannica was an absolutely stunning set. Believe me, if we were in a larger space with book shelves to burn, they would still be here … dark blue imitation leather with brilliant gold lettering and all in excellent condition. But the 1947 vintage had them totally useless as a source of information. We never looked at them, and one could hardly expect anyone else to use them. An interior designer could have stuck them in someone’s mansion, I suppose.

The set of Collier’s was of little interest other than as a constant reminder of how slick a young sales lady can be with a young married couple anxious to have good educational material in the home for any future children. That set, along with yearbooks covering 1964 to 1992, also went to the recycler. That the yearbooks couldn’t have been of use somewhere is still a mystery since what happens in a given year doesn’t become (too) obsolete. But I guess all that stuff can be Googled more easily and more quickly.

Yesterday, I delivered an entire set of the Harvard Classics to a used bookstore as a donation.  It was known as a “five-foot shelf of fiction” back in the day. Proceeds of any sale will go to aid adults with disabilities. I believe my grandmother purchased the set in the 20s, and there was no evidence any of them had ever been read.

So, nearly 200 books have left the house. Our college textbooks are slowly moving into the crosshairs. Texts for two bachelor degrees and three masters programs do pile up. But somehow they have been treasured. Never mind that some of the books are nearly 50 years old, traveled from house to house, and sit in boxes having multiple van line stickers on them.

What brings all this about? Memories of dumping tons of stuff into a huge dumpster parked behind my parents’ home. Things they held dear were of no value to any of us as we plowed through a basement filled to the rafters. We can at least direct some of our stuff into recycle programs rather than have it all go to a landfill.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that the things remaining behind will be seen as anything but trash when our dwelling place has its final cleaning by those we leave behind.

What do those without insurance do?

December 15, 2009

Today’s health care debates have made me very aware of the stability I’ve had in my own health care for a long, very long, time. And for that I’m grateful.

I’ve also noticed that an attitude of  selfish indifference for what others may experience in health care tends to yield few ideas for reform. Although, I can most assuredly state from observation, that it does yield much spirited opposition to any attempts to make things better, for oneself or anyone else.

Anyway, the internist I had since the 70s retired a few years ago. I needed to find another, as did my wife. Her ob/gyn gave her a list for us to consider. A little online research (yes, I have online access as well as health care insurance) gave us a few promising prospects, those who were also “in-network,” so we began making initial appointments.

My choice wasn’t a complete failure, and I stayed with him for a couple of years. In the end, however, he seemed more interested in asserting his office hours than attending to those who might need his professional assistance. An excruciating headache accompanied by red blotches all over my legs elicited a question about  why I was calling after 4:30 since the office was open all day.

Well, I don’t need a doctor to make me feel disrespected when I was already scared with a headache reminiscent of my meningitis of ’92. So, I asked my cardiologist for a couple of names. My favorite on the list spoke my language … also a  meningitis survivor  … and upon hearing about my headache, ordered a scan to dismiss a “sentinel bleed” as a potential cause. He had asked, “Was it the worst headache you’ve ever had?”, rather than “Why are you calling after hours?”

A year later he left the group and established himself beyond a 15-mile non-compete radius. His new location wasn’t what I would call convenient, at least for the long term. I signed up with the new guy in the same group, an internist from Iraq. He left for family or other personal reasons before I could see him more than once.

I again signed up with the new guy in the group. This one is from Pakistan. I have seen him once, and he seems to be a good fit. He also listens.

What am I trying to say? After more than 30 years with the same internist, I am now on my 4th replacement. But I’m not concerned. The hospital system I have aligned myself with has incredible bench strength. My insurer has an online resource for quick and easy assessment of credentials when I’m given a list of names.

What do those without insurance do?

I’ve had my ophthalmologist since ’85, my cardiologist and electro-cardiologist since ’06, my ENT since ’07, a retinologist since ’07, my dermatologist since the early 90s, and a 2009 model internist.

But something may be of interest, I’m actually in very good health, run regularly, am very active in whatever I wish to do. Feel good, not over-weight. Pacemaker gets good battery life, and if they ever make one which is rechargeable based on exercise, they’d really be on to something … something of a hybrid, I suppose.

None of this is by accident. As I’ve said, I’ve had great stability in my heath care for a very long time … the same length of time I’ve had health care insurance.

Disoriented in time

December 7, 2009

On the Friday following Thanksgiving, we went to a small gathering in the neighborhood where our first house is located. We moved from there more than 32 years ago. It’s a small street of story and a half Cape Cod homes. At one point during the afternoon, as dusk was setting in, I found myself looking out the front window. Across the street, and two houses down, stood our old house. For a brief moment I was disoriented, certainly disoriented in time.

My wife later reported experiencing a similar feeling as she sat talking between two of our old neighbors. A little light-headed and momentarily lost.

An hour or two later we were back in our home eating pulled-pork sandwiches with our grown children and all three grandchildren. All was well.

If you’ve ever been there

March 21, 2009

Received the DVD of  “Rachel Getting Married” from Netflix on Wednesday, watched it Wednesday evening, and again on Friday evening. We found it simply wonderful with superb casting.

If you’ve ever been there, it is hard to not find yourself nodding frequently and reflecting on the severe impact chemical dependence has on everyone in and near the family circle.

But did we have fun!

January 29, 2009

Our family began heading for the lake on weekends during the summer in the early 50s and at a time when drives were long, means of travel was on two-lane roads, and smoke-saturated fabric headliners in cars with no air conditioning often led to intense car sickness. Our clothes were stuffed into cardboard boxes, and we were easily identified as visitors in our wrinkly clothes at Sunday Mass. No running water, an outhouse, a one-room cabin built by our parents.

But did we have fun!  Boats were small, outboard motors were slow, docks were homemade. The days were spent in  bathing suits. When it rained we stayed in and played poker with match sticks for chips. Along our portion of the shore were scattered cabins and a total of 29 kids our age. Several of us had August birthdays. A big fire summoned dozens of people to gather down by the lake for the party. Laughter would linger in the darkness for hours.

One of our “lake gang,” one of the 29 kids, passed away this week.