It's quitting time. Carrying my briefcase, I head for the parking lot, only to find that my humongous RAM pickup is totally blocked in by other vehicles. Not a problem. Magically, the truck shrinks down to 3' in length, I pick it up, turn it around, and carry it to an open area.
The truck morphs back to full size, at which time my old friend John hops into the backseat. 'Where's your car?' I ask him. He replies, 'It was stolen!' John opens up a folding map, places it on his lap and starts studying it intently. Then, he opens the flip-top console, which has a dashboard mount-style floating compass inside. He continues to study the map, pausing every few seconds to slap the compass. He doesn't say anything, just keeps looking at the map and slapping the compass, over and over. You're one weird dude, John.
I get into the truck on the passenger side to find Ranger napping in the driver's seat and Artie standing on the floor beside him. Then, Holy Crap! I realize the pickup is moving. But nobody's driving! What the hell? Panic! Gotta get the dogs out of the way and get into the driver's seat before we crash into something!
I solve the problem by waking up. Mr Totally Nuts strikes again.
The part about the truck moving along, with me not in control, is a recurrent theme. Sometimes it's because my legs weigh a ton each and I can't move them to the foot pedals. Other times, the brakes don't work - or I'm dozing and can't seem to wake up enough to take control, even though I know I have to. I always wake up before I run off the road or crash into something.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Totally Nuts II
Several of the strange brews concocted by Mr Totally Nuts (see last post) are recurrent.
Flying
Sometimes it's high above the ground, other times it's only a few inches above a paved highway. I'm riding on something that performs like a magic carpet. It's not carpet, though. It's more like a thin piece of plywood; I'm lying on it face down and it's quite comfortable. Whether high or low, it's always fun. When it's high, there's not much sensation of movement, but when I'm 'on the road' I'm going like a bat out of hell, power gliding into the turns, doing a slalom ski slope kind of thing - and having a really great time. I'm going nowhere in particular, just out for a joyride.
Vietnam
I'm about 50 years old and I'm going back into the military. I have no idea why. The Vietnam war is still going strong and my assignment will be to lead a small bunch of elite troops far into enemy territory, hunker down in the weeds and do some serious damage. But first, I have to go through all the training again: basic combat training, advanced infantry training, infantry officer school and, finally, jungle warfare school in Panama. The training takes a full year. When it's done, I will be reinstated to my real-world final rank/MOS: captain/infantry.
The fact that I have to do the training all over again concerns me nearly as much as the Nam assignment. It's not the training itself so much as the time it takes to do it. This is nothing like the post-Vietnam nightmares I had for several years after I returned from Nam. It's a little stressful, yes, but it's very matter of fact: I don't like it but I gotta do it so let's get on with it. Regardless, if this dream never returned, I wouldn't miss it.
Restroom Search
I'll bet I'm not alone on this one! These mostly occur in the offices of the company where I last worked. The company has moved since I was last there, and, although I did the tenant improvement layouts on lots of offices, I didn't do this one. If I had, the friggin restrooms wouldn't be so damned hard to find. So, I'm wandering up and down the halls, going from floor to floor, looking for a restroom cuz I've really gotta pee! I always wake up before I find a restroom. Good thing, too, don't you think?
Flying
Sometimes it's high above the ground, other times it's only a few inches above a paved highway. I'm riding on something that performs like a magic carpet. It's not carpet, though. It's more like a thin piece of plywood; I'm lying on it face down and it's quite comfortable. Whether high or low, it's always fun. When it's high, there's not much sensation of movement, but when I'm 'on the road' I'm going like a bat out of hell, power gliding into the turns, doing a slalom ski slope kind of thing - and having a really great time. I'm going nowhere in particular, just out for a joyride.
Vietnam
I'm about 50 years old and I'm going back into the military. I have no idea why. The Vietnam war is still going strong and my assignment will be to lead a small bunch of elite troops far into enemy territory, hunker down in the weeds and do some serious damage. But first, I have to go through all the training again: basic combat training, advanced infantry training, infantry officer school and, finally, jungle warfare school in Panama. The training takes a full year. When it's done, I will be reinstated to my real-world final rank/MOS: captain/infantry.
The fact that I have to do the training all over again concerns me nearly as much as the Nam assignment. It's not the training itself so much as the time it takes to do it. This is nothing like the post-Vietnam nightmares I had for several years after I returned from Nam. It's a little stressful, yes, but it's very matter of fact: I don't like it but I gotta do it so let's get on with it. Regardless, if this dream never returned, I wouldn't miss it.
Restroom Search
I'll bet I'm not alone on this one! These mostly occur in the offices of the company where I last worked. The company has moved since I was last there, and, although I did the tenant improvement layouts on lots of offices, I didn't do this one. If I had, the friggin restrooms wouldn't be so damned hard to find. So, I'm wandering up and down the halls, going from floor to floor, looking for a restroom cuz I've really gotta pee! I always wake up before I find a restroom. Good thing, too, don't you think?
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Totally Nuts
Imagine if you will, a huge warehouse with row after row of shelves, each shelf fully stocked with sequentially-dated items. Some items are several decades old, while others were shelved just moments ago. The warehouse is a beehive of activity, with hundreds of workers zipping around in little carts, stocking the shelves and gathering items as directed. Ever seen a picture or video of an Amazon warehouse? Think 1000 times larger than that!
Imagine further, that this facility has 2 shifts, a day shift and a night shift. The day shift is full service, half the workers diligently stocking the 'today' shelves with new materials, the other half retrieving items as needed. The day shift manager is truly a gem. Intelligent, decisive, efficient and amazingly quick, he runs the show like the finest maestro directs an orchestra.
The night shift, which is the focus of this post, is not full service; 99% of the night work is retrieval only. The night manager compares favorably to the day manager in every way but one: he's totally nuts! Certifiable! When this guy's running the show, the workers are directed to retrieve shelved items from anywhere and everywhere, no rhyme nor reason whatsoever. The retrieved items are dumped in random piles on the warehouse floor.
Got it figured out? 1st clue: the warehouse has no physical presence; it's electronic in nature. 2nd clue: each row of shelves has it's own label, including these: people, places, events, sounds, smells. Now you have it, yes? The warehouse is your mind, the shelved items are your memories. The night manager, Mr Totally Nuts, has one hell of a good time, taking those randomly piled items and molding them into bizarre scenarios - your dreams. Often, just for the heck of it, Mr Nuts throws in extra items that weren't in the warehouse, people you've never met or places you've never been, for example. Needless to say, these extras have absolutely nothing to do with anything else in the pile. They just make a strange brew even stranger.
The next time Mr Nuts concocts one of his strange brews I'm gonna share it with you - if I can grab it before it's discarded as most brews are. It should prove to be entertaining.
Imagine further, that this facility has 2 shifts, a day shift and a night shift. The day shift is full service, half the workers diligently stocking the 'today' shelves with new materials, the other half retrieving items as needed. The day shift manager is truly a gem. Intelligent, decisive, efficient and amazingly quick, he runs the show like the finest maestro directs an orchestra.
The night shift, which is the focus of this post, is not full service; 99% of the night work is retrieval only. The night manager compares favorably to the day manager in every way but one: he's totally nuts! Certifiable! When this guy's running the show, the workers are directed to retrieve shelved items from anywhere and everywhere, no rhyme nor reason whatsoever. The retrieved items are dumped in random piles on the warehouse floor.
Got it figured out? 1st clue: the warehouse has no physical presence; it's electronic in nature. 2nd clue: each row of shelves has it's own label, including these: people, places, events, sounds, smells. Now you have it, yes? The warehouse is your mind, the shelved items are your memories. The night manager, Mr Totally Nuts, has one hell of a good time, taking those randomly piled items and molding them into bizarre scenarios - your dreams. Often, just for the heck of it, Mr Nuts throws in extra items that weren't in the warehouse, people you've never met or places you've never been, for example. Needless to say, these extras have absolutely nothing to do with anything else in the pile. They just make a strange brew even stranger.
The next time Mr Nuts concocts one of his strange brews I'm gonna share it with you - if I can grab it before it's discarded as most brews are. It should prove to be entertaining.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
120 Degrees
It's degrees of flexion (the bending of a joint) we're talking here, not the weather. Specifically, the target post-op flexion Trish is struggling to achieve in her knees. To clarify, if leg is totally straight, it's at zero degrees; if upper and lower leg are at right angles to each other, it's 90 degrees. So, 120 degrees is going well beyond the right angle.
The motion machine described in my prior post was initially set at 65 degrees when T was in the hospital. The machine is adjustable and the instructions are to increase the flexion angle 5 degrees per day. The machine that has replaced me in our bed at home (temporarily, I hope) is now set at 90 degrees. So, 25 degrees done so far, 30 degrees yet to be done.
The action of the machine stretches the muscles and tendons and other leg stuff, getting and keeping everything as flexible as possible, keeping things from 'freezing up.' Since T's legs weren't exercised much after her knee blew out last May, the tissues now need to be restretched and tuned in to the new 120-degree reality.
She had her 2nd therapy session yesterday, in a pool designed for that purpose. She liked the pool approach a lot, much better than the Chamber of Horrors - that room with the same body building machines and devices you find in modern fitness clubs. The pool thing is only for a few sessions though; soon she'll have to return to the Chamber to serve out the remainder of her 6-week sentence.
She experiences a lot of pain occasionally, especially towards the end of pain medication periods. To be expected: the surgery was only 8 days ago and there's still a lot of healing to do. But, every day sees a bit of improvement in her mobility and the ability to do the normal things of everyday life. She's coming along nicely in my view. Depending on when she took her last pain pill, Trish may or may not agree with that view.
The motion machine described in my prior post was initially set at 65 degrees when T was in the hospital. The machine is adjustable and the instructions are to increase the flexion angle 5 degrees per day. The machine that has replaced me in our bed at home (temporarily, I hope) is now set at 90 degrees. So, 25 degrees done so far, 30 degrees yet to be done.
The action of the machine stretches the muscles and tendons and other leg stuff, getting and keeping everything as flexible as possible, keeping things from 'freezing up.' Since T's legs weren't exercised much after her knee blew out last May, the tissues now need to be restretched and tuned in to the new 120-degree reality.
She had her 2nd therapy session yesterday, in a pool designed for that purpose. She liked the pool approach a lot, much better than the Chamber of Horrors - that room with the same body building machines and devices you find in modern fitness clubs. The pool thing is only for a few sessions though; soon she'll have to return to the Chamber to serve out the remainder of her 6-week sentence.
She experiences a lot of pain occasionally, especially towards the end of pain medication periods. To be expected: the surgery was only 8 days ago and there's still a lot of healing to do. But, every day sees a bit of improvement in her mobility and the ability to do the normal things of everyday life. She's coming along nicely in my view. Depending on when she took her last pain pill, Trish may or may not agree with that view.
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