Peg Kerr's Journal

As I mentioned before, I received a diagnosis several months ago for the pain in my pelvis: I have gluteal tendonopathy and bursitis. The inflammation also includes the SI (sacroiliac) joint. I have been doing physical therapy for several months, and things were a little better, but I have been plateauing for a while.

Finally, absolutely fed up with the decreased mobility and the pain, I made an appointment with a pain specialist and quickly arranged to get steroid injections in my SI joint and my gluteal trochanter last week. It was not fun, and the results will take a while to emerge (3 to 14 days).

I have been monitoring my step asymmetry with my Apple watch, and my limp had been pretty bad. It is getting a little better, and I can walk farther. The pain hasn't entirely gone away, but I am hoping things will continue to improve. Anyway, I'm glad I did it, and maybe I'll be able to exercise a bit more consistently now.

Image description: Background: Lavender flowers (representing serenity and physical healing). Center: a human skeleton with a figure eight-shaped thorny bramble over the pelvis. Behind the skeleton at the pelvis: an orange calendula blossom (representing comfort and recovery). At the right side, a hand in a surgical glove angles a syringe so that the point hovers just above the pelvis.

Pelvis



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You know, I do my best to just live my life and be a brave little toaster, but this week, it's just felt like...a lot.

I need to get a new car. Mine is twenty-five years old and leaking coolant. And I don't know where or how to start. Will I be able to afford anything decent?

Pain continues. The physical therapist has ordered me to use a cane. I have to use it in my (non-dominant) left hand, the one with arthritis, and just manipulating it with that hand is difficult enough that I have to start using my arthritis brace on that hand again.

I've also been told to wear an IS brace, a velcro strap that goes around my hips. Weirdly enough, it gives me nausea. Constantly.

Medical appointments. So. Many. Medical. Appointments.

All of this makes it difficult to exercise. And I NEED to exercise. I got the results of my bone scan this week, and my osteopenia is continuing to get worse. I need to get into the gym and lift weights and I'm not doing so, and so I'm beating myself up about it.

The news. Need I say more?

Christmas is looming, and the thought of preparing for the holidays is daunting.

I'm about to retire, and I am struggling with uncertainty about what it is going to look like. (Will I have enough money is giving me constant low-grade anxiety)

Rob's 70th birthday was this past week.

Both of the girls have been sick and stressed. Delia's internship is about to end, and she doesn't know where she will find another job.

On Wednesday, I had to sit through a meeting that droned on for an hour and a half. I kept standing up and sitting down again. I was so obviously uncomfortable that my coworkers sent me home, and I spent the rest of the day with the covers literally pulled over my head.

I'm sorry. I'm complaining, and I truly don't like that. I don't feel depressed, exactly? But I don't feel at my best, shall we say.

Image description: Background: a light-filled doorway in a room with gray peeling paint. Superimposed over it: a semi-transparent image of a woman's face with eyes closed, strands of hair blowing over her eyes. Lower center: a statue with green patina of a woman, holding her hand to her forehead. Upper left corner: a dried leaf clings to a twig.

Melancholy



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I have had to do waaaaaaaaayyyyy too much adulting this week.

I've been thinking about the fact that modern daily life involves an unavoidable level of risk.

People get sick.
Car accidents happen.
A passerby might slip on one's property and decide to sue.

Society has developed a way to deal with these risks by creating the concept of insurance. Spreading the risk out to a pool of people makes an ugly surprise much less catastrophic than it might be.

But this past week, an immense amount of work has gone into administering my risk management.

I have mentioned that I am going to retire soon, partly due to the fact that I have in the past year had a Significant Birthday. For various reasons, I had to change my personal insurance arrangements.

But it did not go smoothly, bureaucracies being what they are.

I have had a number of problems with doctors' bills since the Very Significant Birthday when my insurance changed, but I paid the extra money demanded and grumbled but did not think much about it. I had to cancel a dentist appointment because the insurance information was incorrect.

But I hadn't really buckled down to get at the root of the problem until now.

I had an appointment arranged with my doctor this week, but when I did the pre-check in with my doctor's office, I found that they had a company listed for my insurance that I had never even heard of before.

I am not going to bore you with the bureaucratic details (it would take much, much too long to explain), but the upshot was that I was on the phone with six different insurance entities this week, trying to straighten out various problems.

Being an adult really sucks sometimes.

Image description: Central image: a woman leaps into space with her outstretched arms and legs shading into color that suggests movement. Top and bottom: names of various insurance entities: Medicare, State Farm, Further, Portico, Delta Dental, and AmeriHealth.

Risk



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I have been reluctant to talk about it, but the arthritis in my left wrist has worsened to such a degree that I broke down and did something I was reluctant to do. I got a cortisone shot in the bones of my wrist. Getting the shot was as unpleasant as you might imagine. The doctor used an ultrasound machine to guide the needle, but there was a bony ridge between my wrist bones (due to the arthritis) that made it difficult to direct the cortisone into the right place. So that was about four or five very painful minutes of mucking around. I held the aide's hand really, really hard and made a number of pained squeaks.

But the relief has been profound, and I'm grateful I did it. Now the only question is how long the relief will last. I have talked to others who have had this done, and for some, the relief has lasted six months. For others, it is much less.

Background, semi-transparent: ultrasound machine overlaid with a fluffy feather. Over the feather is an outstretched woman's hand. A syringe in the lower left corner is pointed at the woman's wrist.

Relief



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By all rights, I should be doing this collage about attending Mythcon. But another matter rather preoccupied my mind this past week.

Specifically, my health had deteriorated to such a point that my coworkers kept ordering me to go home because of my out-of-control coughing. As I mentioned, I contracted some type of viral infection at the beginning of of July, and last week, my asthma really spiraled out of control. It destroyed my sleep, and exasperated my patience and--gah. Finally, I went back to the doctor. My chest x-ray was clear, thank goodness, but the doctor ordered all the big guns. I went to Mythcon, as I said, wearing a mask (both because of the local Covid surge and because the meds lower my immunity), and enjoyed the con as best I could despite all the side effects.

I am finally starting to feel a bit better.

The sword in the card is one of a pair of hair sticks I wore to the con. I lost one of them during the course of weekend but fortunately found it again. But as I was looking for the hair stick, I started thinking about swords, about defense, and that prompted the concept behind the collage.

Image description: Center: chest x-ray. Foreground: an N95 mask, overlaid with a sword. Lower left and lower right corners: prescription bottles. Pills stream out of the bottles toward the lungs.

Defense



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Several weeks ago, I suddenly had pain blossom at the base of my left thumb. A visit to the doctor and an x-ray diagnosed arthritis. Ugh.

I have been wearing a brace and doing physical therapy. If the physical therapy doesn't work in about four weeks, I will be trying a cortisone shot. Which will suck, but will be preferable to dealing with this pain with all my daily activities: chopping vegetables, buttoning my clothes, pulling on socks, opening bottles--it all hurts.

Growing old isn't for the faint of heart.

Image description: Background: a tracery of bare, gnarled branches against a gray sky. Over this are several shots of a left hand. One wears a rigid brace. One rolls a ball against a pad. One has a clip clamped on the web between the thumb and forefinger. One holds rubber bands between the thumb and forefinger. Bottom center: a bottle of Ibuprofen.

Arthritis



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This card pinpoints a moment when I noticed that I was experiencing what almost seemed to be something like flashes of lightning in my peripheral vision on one side. What's more, I realized, there were suddenly a bunch of floaters in that eye, too. I remembered a warning an eye doctor had given me many years ago: 'If you suddenly see a lot of floaters, and especially if you're seeing a lot of flashing lights, get into an eye doctor right away. You may be experiencing a retinal tear.'

Somewhat alarmed, I called the night line for my ophthalmologist and fortunately, they were able to schedule me for the following morning. I went in, and the news was reassuring. This was something, the doctor explained, that happens to everyone as they age. The viscous goo inside the eye pulls away from the retina, causing floaters to appear. The examination was interesting: he put drops in my eye and then carefully applied pressure along my eye socket...and suddenly I could see a ghostly image of my own retina.

To my great relief, I didn't have any retinal tears. He wants me to come in for a re-check in another four weeks. The floaters, he told me, would be visible for a while, but eventually (if I'm fortunate) the brain will learn to simply ignore them and they won't be as noticeable.

Just another consequence of aging.

(I created the 'floaters' in the picture by reversing the images of snowflakes in a snowstorm to a negative image).

Image description: Two views of the head of a woman (Peg), looking in two different directions, looking puzzled in one and squinting in the other. Background: the retina of a human eye, overlaid with flashes of lightning. Overlaid over everything are floating black specks.

Flashes and Floaters



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This is late.

I have Covid. Peg, why couldn't you skip doing a collage this week?

Because I can't, that's why.

Nevertheless, explanations will be abbreviated.

This is a card about the pleasures of baking yummy things. Our family annual cookie bake often coincides with St. Lucia's Day. Longtime readers of this journal know I've celebrated this holiday for years.

Compare this previous collage, for the same week, also titled "Baking." Sorry that I couldn't come up with another subject, but I have no brain.

Baking helps keep the darkness away.

Unfortunately, not Covid.

But that's next week's card.

Image description: Background: christmas cookies spread in rows on a long table. Overlaid over that: coffee and lussekatter (saffron buns for St. Lucia Day celebrations). Overlaid over that lower right: a woman dressed as St. Lucia: white dress, red sash, crown of candles. She holds her hands in a position of prayer.

Baking



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How to put this delicately...

I've felt like absolute crap pretty awful this week.

I've already talked about some of it: I'm wearing a surgical boot, and that has thrown off my usual routine to keep myself healthy. With the boot and foot problems, I've been using a cane on the stairs. I'm not able to do my usual walks. I am having a problem with my wrist which precludes doing yoga (can't do downward dog). So I've done very little exercise at all. Okay, none.

I've had some other medical tests in the last month with results that I didn't like to hear. My cholesterol is edging higher. I've now been diagnosed as having osteopenia--thinning bones.

It's getting colder and darker. I'm starting to feel the effects of seasonal affective disorder, and I discovered this week when I pulled it out that my SAD light is broken. I have to buy another. And those suckers are expensive.

Sleep disorder continues--I had one night this week when I managed only a half and an hour of sleep. The next night's sleep was disrupted by a trip to the emergency room in the middle of the night (don't panic--I was having symptoms which might have been indications that I could be having heart problems, but turned out to be a false alarm. Muscle spasm, possibly, the ER doctor thought.). So that was another night of very short sleep, and I can expect a very big bill in the mail.

It just so happens that the same day I went to the ER, I got three vaccines in one day: Covid, flu, and RSV. I mean, yay for modern medicine, but I was just FLATTENED for the next 36 hours.

So I've been thinking about getting older and about how the body starts to not be able to do everything you want it to do. This week, I've felt sluggish and dull even on my good days. Especially on the day I was so short on sleep and dealing with post-vaccine symptoms, I felt about twenty years older than my actual age. I couldn't even read because of the headache.

This was all very unpleasant and daunting. There was the added issue that I live alone, which just made everything more difficult. When I called about my symptoms, the clinic told me (at 11 p.m.) that I really should go immediately to the ER, and I shouldn't drive myself.

Well, that wasn't going to happen: Fiona and Eric each live about twenty minutes away, my next-door neighbor I might have asked had Covid, and I just felt I couldn't call any of them at 11:00 at night and ask them to pick me up, take me to the ER, and sit around for four hours. And I couldn't afford the ambulance ride.

So that meant I drove myself, in a fog of self-pity.

The next day, as I lay in bed so miserably ill from the vaccines, oh, how I wanted someone there to do the dishes, to fetch me some tea, to run out and get some pho (the ultimate I'm-feeling-sick comfort food) and bring it back to me.

But Rob is gone.

The whole week felt like a fast-forward VCR tape of the process of decline. (I had originally thought to call this card 'Nadir,' but then reasoned, 'No. This isn't the bottom yet." So I hit upon the word 'Ebb.')

I ran across a post on Facebook this week that I've been thinking about, in connection with all this:

The problem in middle life, when the body has reached its climax of power and begins to decline, is to identify yourself not with the body, which is falling away, but with the consciousness of which it is a vehicle. This is something I learned from myths. What am I? Am I the bulb that carries the light? Or am the light of which the bulb is a vehicle?

One of the psychological problems in growing old is the fear of death. People resist the door of death. But the body is a vehicle of consciousness, and if you can identify with the consciousness, you can watch the body go like an old car. There goes the fender, there goes the tire, one thing after another--but it's predictable. And then, gradually, the whole thing drops off, and consciousness, rejoins consciousness. It is no longer in this particular environment."

Image description: Background: a star-filled night sky. Right lower corner: a framed sign reading "nope. NOT ADULTING TODAY." Above it sits a lit kerosene lantern, sitting on the pillow on which a haggard-looking woman (Peg) rests in bed with her eyes closed. Above her (center left of the collage): a rusted-out old truck.

Ebb



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This week has been sort a sort of mixed bag: the good news is that I got my foundation fixed, and I'm very happy with the results. After weeks of trying to find someone and beginning to despair that I would find anyone willing to do it before the snow fell, I got a referral to someone who was willing to come out right away and who gave me a bid with a very good price. He was able to start immediately and got it finished up within four days. Yay!

On the not-so-good side, it's been a challenging week physically. My wrist, which I've had problems with before, has been giving me some pain, and I have decided to go back to physical therapy. In an effort to lick the ongoing sleep problems, I've started with a new medication and good heavens, it's been difficult. I have been COMPLETELY exhausted, nodding off at work, and having to leave meetings early. But I'm gritting my teeth and trying to stick it out. I'm still recovering from the broken toe and so not doing my long walks, which is vexing. I've decided to resume weightlifting, because I know I need to add it to my routine, and I'm truly trying to get healthier. As a result, although I have been taking it cautiously, I have been super sore all over. Between that, the wrist, and the toe, I've been taking a lot of painkillers. As I struggle to stay awake.

As a result of all this, I've been doing everything I can to take care of myself. And trying to do what makes me happy, with, I must say, a great deal of success. The weather has been lovely, which has certainly helped. I went on a picnic by myself last Sunday at the Lake Harriet Rose Garden and on the way home, I came across a street festival and stopped for a while to watch the joyously colorful dancers in complete fascination. I've been experimenting in the kitchen and making fun recipes--it's been a great week for food values.

Today, I plan to go to an art festival. Tomorrow, I'll be going to a party for some dear friends celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary and their retirement.

I've definitely been enjoying myself, despite the pain. And I've been happy.



Image description: Center: the fountain at the Lake Harriet Rose Garden in Minneapolis. Lower center: various foods spread on a picnic blanket--cherries, cheese, a plastic cup with wine. Lower/center right: a red rose in full bloom. Lower/center left: a hand holds a small glass jar with tiramisu pudding, with chocolate shavings on top. upper right: a fantastically colorful dancer with a bearded face and tall colorful headdress. Upper, semi-transparent: three different pictures of the process of making zucchini pesto rollups: to the left, slices of zucchini topped with roasted peppers on a cutting board. Upper left, two cups of a muffin tin with the zucchini slices rolled up and topped with egg. Just below that: a plate on a flowered tray, with zucchini rollups next to a fruit bowl with berries.

Enjoyment



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