MRI RESULTS

As promised here are the results of my MRI last week. There is good news and bad news.

The good news:

I am in no real pain if I'm careful and am only somewhat limited in normal day to day activities. I'm grateful for that but surprised after reading the results.

The bad news:

According to the report I have a "Full-thickness tear of the supraspinatus tendon". This is the tendon that attaches to the rotator cuff on the top of the shoulder. Full-thickness tear means complete tear.

It also shows a "Superior labral tear" which means your labrum (cartilage) is torn at the top in both the front (anterior) and back (posterior) of where it attaches to the biceps tendon. 

And finally there is a "High-grade partial longitudinal tear of the long head biceps tendon with associated tenosynovitis (inflammation of the tendon)".

It finished with a few references to mild and moderate osteoarthritis in various parts of my arm and shoulder which I know about already.

Now, I'm no doctor but it doesn't take a rocket scientist (or even an orthopedic surgeon) to surmise the meaning of the results - my arm is fucked up. After a bit of internet research and an email to my regular doctor, my above diagnosis was confirmed. I have been referred to an orthopedic surgeon but couldn't get an appointment until August 19th. Delay must be supply chain issues due to covid???

I'm expecting to hear that surgery will be needed if I want to do anything more than keep my arm fairly still and call Lou every time I need to lift something or pull something or reach something.

So, that is your shoulder anatomy lesson for the day - and what can go wrong when you do something crazy like push a chair back from the table.

BETTE DAVIS WAS RIGHT

It's a quote that most of us have heard for decades, "Old age ain't no place for sissies". It has been widely attributed to the legendary actress, Bette Davis, although it is not really known if she did indeed say it. I'm going to choose to believe that she did utter those prophetic words and that amazing old broad was one hundred percent right!

Pretty much everyone who passes the age of 65, especially women, has had occasion to recall that old age ain't no place for sissies. It is common place to go to bed feeling pretty good only to wake up with a myriad of aches and pains - a back, a shoulder, an arm or a neck. What the hell? How did I simply sleep and hurt myself? Hey, it happens all the time. And it only gets worse as you age. Not to mention that time speeds up exponentially with each passing year. What seemed like six months ago was actually two years. No way???

I've had a particularly rude awakening these past few weeks as this phenomenon jumped up and bit me big time. Just about a month ago we departed for a Caribbean cruise with my son and granddaughter. It had been cancelled twice due to the pandemic but we were finally on our way looking forward to a wonderful adventure. My "Travels Near & Far" blog has details and photos.

Lou and I met up with Darrin and Charley at the Denver airport where we all flew to Miami together. Our flight left Sacramento at 5:05 AM and we had a long layover before their flight arrived so we skipped breakfast at home knowing we'd have plenty of time to eat in Denver. Here's where it gets kind of stupid. I shoved a heavy chair back from the table to put our bags on it and was greeted with one of the worse pains I've ever experienced in my right upper arm. I almost screamed in the airport restaurant and it took several minutes to settle down. It hurt like hell but I had two strong guys and a pretty strong granddaughter to help schlep all the bags around.

The next day as we boarded the ship I notice a small bruise on my upper arm. Over the next couple days, it spread to a 3 inch around, nasty, purple, ugly ass bruise. It freaked everyone out. Fortunately, it no longer hurt like hell but sure looked awful.

By the time we got off the ship, it had faded substantially but I had this "Popeye muscle" (which I never had before) in its place. I saw my doctor who suspected a ruptured tendon or muscle and ordered an ultrasound. The ultrasound didn't show enough detail but the report says "a probable torn tendon" and ordered an MRI (scheduled for next week) along with an orthopedic referral. What the fuck? All this from pushing a chair back from a table?

I've been favoring my right arm for a few weeks and now my left wrist is hurting so I'm wearing a brace on it. I need my arms to negotiate the stairs due to my severe neuropathy and total lack of balance.

And, just for the hell of it, I woke up a week ago with a pain in my upper left back muscle. My whole life I've had the occasional lower back issue but not the upper back. It was killing me for a few days then inexplicably moved from the left side to the right side. What? I've given up trying to figure it all out. Basically, something, somewhere usually seems to hurt anymore.

Now I am done complaining for awhile because even with all its problems, this old body has taken pretty good care of me these past 72 years. And contrary to the content of this post, I really do try NOT to complain too much. Just wanted to point out that Bette Davis was right on the money, "Old age ain't no place for sissies".

Besides, the aches and pains still beat the hell out of the alternative.

LOU'S DAD

Lou's dad, Louis Jacob Padgug, passed away early last Wednesday morning, October 27, 2021, after being in hospice care at home since August. He spent a little over 97 years on this earth. His only son, Louis John Padgug, was at his side holding his hand as he left this world.

The last Father's Day, June 2021, for father and son.

First, let me sing the praises of my partner of 20+ years. Lou stepped up managing his dad's care along with relieving caregivers and doing all the hands on care necessary for someone in the final months of their life. Remember this is a man who, having no children, never changed a diaper or sat up half the night with a sick kid. Yet he walked right into the trenches, learned what he needed to do and helped his father in every way. His strength and capable determination was commendable. I couldn't be prouder of his effort to make his dad's last weeks the best they could be. 

Lou was the only "father-in-law" I have ever known. My ex-husband's father passed away when he was a teenager. The family always referred to Lou's dad as "Lou" and my Lou as "Louis". My Lou was always just Lou to me and his dad went by Lou, also. Bruni and I spoke of "my Lou" and "your Lou" when we spent time together since they weren't junior and senior with different middle names. For the purpose of clarity, I'll say "Lou" for his dad and "my Lou" for, well, my Lou.

Being that my Lou was Lou's only son, it was always apparent that he adored his youngest child and my Lou was the light of his life. The feeling was mutual. There was a special bond between father and son that was obvious. As the years passed and Lou's condition began to worsen, my Lou provided more assistance to his father in all aspects of his life. 

Lou was a kind, caring and generous man. He led a long, varied life that was free from health issues for the most part. His ability to walk worsened over the years probably partially due to spinal stenosis but there was never a definitive diagnosis in spite of countless doctor visits.

For years, one of Lou's consistent replies to the question, "How are you?", was "As well as can be expected." A few weeks ago, I walked to his bedside and asked how he was doing expecting the usual reply when he surprised me by answering, "Pretty shitty." It brought a smile to my face.

Speaking of smiles, during Lou's last few months, he always had a genuine smile for those of us who stopped by to visit. We had numerous talks about mortality and eternity during his decline and I was grateful to share that with my father-in-law. I always felt his love and affection during my time with his son.

One day maybe a couple weeks prior to his passing, I was already over at Lou's house to confer with the hospice nurse when my Lou arrived. My Lou was wearing a t-shirt that I had no idea he owned or when he bought it. The shirt read:

"Son of a World War II Veteran. 

Most people never meet their heroes. 

I was raised by mine." 

We were all fighting back tears as my Lou read it to his dad and said, "You are my hero."

I am so thankful that my Lou was there with him at the end, sitting at his bedside, holding his hand as he passed from this world to the next. It's all any parent can ask for. Rest in peace, Lou. You will be greatly missed.

SOAPBOX TIME AGAIN

Every now and then I feel the need to hop up on my soapbox and get my two cents worth in. Well, now that I am 71, I don't hop anymore but rather carefully step up using the handrails. 

First of all, I am NOT a vaccine person. No, I am not an "anti-vaxxer". I've just never thought that routine vaccinations were a big deal.  Then my baby son had a bad reaction with a high fever to the first DPT vaccine. It was awful and they eliminated the "P" (pertussis) from the second dose that often caused the problems. He was okay but I was turned off. 

Flu shots are often ineffective. They guess as to which strains of influenza will be prevalent in the next year when they are formulating the vaccine. Being pretty healthy I've had one flu shot in the past 40 plus years. And, knock on wood, the last time I had the flu Darrin was six years old.....39 years ago. Being a pretty healthy person, I've never had a pneumonia or shingles vaccine. It's just not in my make up to run out and fill my body with all these things.

BUT....this one is different.......REALLY DIFFERENT! 

At first I was reluctant when they were rushing the covid vaccines into trials. Given my tendency to avoid vaccines, I needed to be convinced. But I trust Dr. Fauci and the other experts. Having lost two sister-in-laws to this horrible virus, I read everything I could find. In a very short time I decided that the way vaccines are made now, it was safe. They have been working on various covid vaccines for 6 or 7 years knowing that this was going to happen. Vaccines for the current strain, Covid-19, just needed to be plugged in and trials hurried along. I was totally onboard AND it was worth any minimal risk to protect myself and the rest of the people in our world. 

I want to encourage everyone to please, please, please get the covid vaccinations. That is the way that we will get our country and the world on the way back to "normal". The experts say that vaccinating 70 - 80% of the population will create a "herd immunity" for Covid-19. As I looked up facts to verify those numbers I discovered that herd immunity for measles was 95% but for polio it was only 70%.

Back when I was maybe ten years old, I recall going to the local junior high school for the Sabin polio vaccine. It was dropped onto a sugar cube and put in one of those tiny paper cups about one inch across. We all filed by the table and were handed our sugar cube in the cup. My dad dumped it into his other hand and as he was popping it into his mouth, the attendant about had a fit shouting, "Don't touch it! You aren't supposed touch it!" It was already in my dad's mouth and he never contracted polio so I guess it was okay.

I don't know if it was required or if it was just recommended or what. Being a kid I don't recall how we knew or what records were kept of who took the vaccine. I did know that polio was a terrible disease. According to the Mayo Clinic website, "Polio is a contagious viral illness that in its most severe form causes nerve injury leading to paralysis, difficulty breathing and sometimes death." The CDC website states that in the 1940s, 35,000 people a year were afflicted with polio. That is a drop in the bucket compared to Covid-19.

I bring all of this up to encourage everyone living in the U.S., and the world, to please get the covid vaccine. The polio number of 70% vaccinations have eradicated polio in our country. If we can get 70 or 80 or 90% of citizens vaccinated, we can kick this virus's ass. This is not political, this is not a hoax, this is not a conspiracy. This is real....and real science and real medicine can protect us. 

After more than a year of isolation, mask wearing, social distancing and fear, the feeling of finally getting that first vaccination was exhilarating and liberating. I felt I was helping myself and my granddaughter and every other citizen of the world by doing my part to put this horrendous virus into the history books. The fight continues and the fight is real.

I implore you to please get the facts, read all the information then step up and do the right thing by getting vaccinated. I love meeting with friends and saying, "I am fully vaccinated!" and hearing their replies, "I am, too!”

HOT, HOT, HOT!

Goofy things seem to happen to me sometimes. I'm one of those people who have this uncanny ability to attract bizarre events on occasion. As I've aged those episodes seem to have subsided somewhat but every now and then one of them crops up to let me know just how crazy little things in my life can be.

Maybe I come by it naturally since my dad has had a few of them, too, and he sometimes shared them with me. For example, here is one he shared many years ago. He used a tube of Brylcreem on his hair. Why anyone would take squeaky clean, damp hair and put sticky goop in it every day is beyond me but he did. One day he related the story that he accidentally picked up the Brylcreem instead of his toothpaste, put it on his brush and began to clean his teeth. A few seconds later he realized he was brushing his teeth with hair cream and it took him hours to get the taste out of his mouth.

I wondered why he would tell anyone about this faux pas but here I am about to relate one of mine tonight. Must run in the family. I have an arsenal of creams and topical medications that supposedly relieve arthritis and neuropathy that I've purchased over the years. Nothing seems to help a lot but I continue to try various remedies in the hopes that they will lessen the pain of these two afflictions.

I have a roll on applicator of liquid capzasin, a topical analgesic derived from pepper that is supposed to relieve the pain of arthritis. The other night one of the fingers on my right hand that was injured 15 years ago was bothering me a fair amount. I decided to rub some capzasin into that finger. After liberally slathering it onto my right finger, I used my left hand to rub it in thoroughly. Initially the only relief I felt was minimal as it is with any of these treatments.

Shortly thereafter, not thinking, I rubbed my left hand along my upper lip to wipe off my mouth. Then I scratched my nose with my right hand. Within about thirty seconds my mouth began to burn like hell followed quickly by my nose. "Damn, that hurts", was the first thought that went through my mind. I immediately headed to the bathroom using a wet wash cloth to wash off my mouth and nose. It didn't help.....at all.

The burning and pain was not going away but seemed to be intensifying. I quickly searched "how to stop the burning of capzasin" on my computer. The primary antidote was to dab on a mixture of vinegar and water to ease the effects of capzasin. I semi-ran to the kitchen to see if we had any vinegar. I knew where it would be and, finally, behind the olive oil, honey and other spices, located an old bottle of red wine vinegar. Hallelujah!

I diluted it with some water as Google suggested then used a paper towel to dab it all over my mouth and nose. I was feeling a bit of relief in a really short time. You gotta love the internet! Thank God that whatever you need can usually be found there with little effort. Within minutes there was only a minor feeling of tingling pain that was certainly bearable compared to what it was twenty minutes prior.

Even though I enjoyed the relief of NOT having a painful, burning mouth and nose, I was scared to death of touching my face or heaven forbid, my eyes. I washed my hands with soap twice but was not taking the chance of experiencing that pain yet again. I was back to day one of covid protocols - don't touch your face!

Why did I share this with you? I have no idea. Maybe it is some sort of genetic defect that I share with my father in telling others stupid things that we have done to ourselves. Maybe there is some sort of human failing that we feel the need to express to friends and family. Or maybe there just isn't a rational explanation.

And remember, if for some crazy ass reason your mouth, face, nose or anything is burning from capzasin, pepper, chilis or whatever, grab some vinegar, it helps......and for god's sake, don't touch your lips or eyes! By the way, my finger was only minimally improved with the capzasin. But now, a few days later, it's back to feeling okay. I should have left well enough alone but I learned another home remedy. And I bought a new bottle of vinegar to keep handy.

ODDS AND ENDS

Isn't "Normal" Weird?

After over a year of lockdowns, quarantines, face masks and social distancing, it seems a little weird to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel - and realize it isn't a train. It's the beginnings of "normal".

Last week we went out to dinner and actually ate inside the 25% capacity restaurant! To be honest it felt kind of strange, almost like I didn't know exactly what to do. Unfortunately, I think the servers didn't either. The service was lousy, the food was average at best and the price had gone up quite a bit. Hmmm, was restaurant eating overrated?

We are beginning to make some travel plans. I've flown to Albuquerque several times this past year to visit Darrin and Charley but leisure travel was definitely off limits. We have rebooked our Alabama and Georgia trip around a Giants/Braves game the end of August.  Lou and I will celebrate twenty years together this June with a Palm Springs getaway. And we have Pool Parties galore planned with Darrin and Charley this summer since they can now travel freely as well - with all the protocols in place, of course.

Everyone in my circle of friends and family are fully vaccinated or on their way. There is an odd sense of relief after that first shot and a feeling of triumph after the second - I've done my part! Yes, I will continue to follow the CDC guidelines for the most part. It seems that "normal" can actually be on the horizon. But it still feels just a little weird to really believe it. My guess is that it will take some getting used to as the months go on.

Sneezing Fits

I have this strange affliction that my dad had and I think my sister and my son also have occasionally experienced as well. We have what I call sneezing fits. I don't just sneeze once or twice like most people, I suddenly start sneezing two, three, four, five or more times - sometimes I lose count around seven or eight sneezes.

It doesn't really have anything to do with allergies or illnesses, it's just a sneezing fit. I can be sitting in the house reading the paper or driving to the store and it comes on suddenly. When it is over I go right back to what I was doing and I'm fine. Lou and my close friends or family members have learned not to say "bless you" every time I sneeze. It used to be I sneeze, bless you, sneeze again, bless you, sneeze again, bless you, etc., etc., etc. I have convinced them that one "bless you" will cover all of them.

Just curious. Does anyone else have these sneezing fits that go on and on?

 

Delightful Old Lady

Since I am now in my seventies, I have decided that I want to be a delightful old lady when I grow up. The kind who doesn't constantly complain about her maladies, what she can't do anymore or how much everything costs now days. With that in mind, please disregard my above comment about how much it now costs to eat out. I am still a work in progress.

I may not be able to scale mountains or look pretty damn good in a bikini anymore, but seventy-one years of living have given me a ton of compassion and lots of insights into life. My brother-in-law's family had a couple of delightful old ladies who are long passed now but they would enter the room like a whirlwind, smiling, laughing and ready for a glass or wine with rousing conversation - slightly flamboyant and full of life. That's who I want to be.

Sure, we all have aches and pains. We all have things we wish we had done differently but if we've made it to our twilight years then we must have been doing something right. Sure, it can be a royal pain in the ass to grow old but we can decide to welcome it - forget about the bad and embrace the good. It really is all our choice.

I found this quote from the now 71 year old actor, Richard Gere, that sums it up pretty well:

"I am old but I am forever young at heart. We are always the same age inside. Know that you are the perfect age. Each year is special and precious, you can only live it once. Do not regret growing older, it is a privilege denied to many."

THREE DECADES AGO

I'm sitting here staring at the shelves above my computer displaying several things of significance in my life. There are numerous photos....me and Lou on a cruise; Darrin in his pilot outfit; Charley snuggling with me, Darrin and Lou as a 3 year old; Lou leaning against the gates at Graceland; and, four generations (my dad, me, Darrin and Charley) in our Warriors shirts.

Also displayed on my shelves are my "Utah Rocks" mug from my Mother's Day trip to the National Parks in Southern Utah with Darrin; my thesaurus and dictionary (well used from my writings); a fog globe (like a snow globe) giveaway from a Giants game; various special wine bottles along with a sign that reads "Wine improves with age, the older I get the more I like it" and my words of wisdom frame that says "At some point you just have to let go of what you thought should happen and live in what is happening." When I find a particularly meaningful saying I change the frame. This one has been there for several years now.

And there is one other thing. There is a small white coffee mug with purple flowers on it that says "Daughters are Special People". I don't recall the occasion but it was given to me by my mother. My mother was not sentimental and wasn't one to give emotional gifts. March 1st marked the 30th anniversary of the day she died. Somehow that mug has been in the same spot on my shelf for the 18+ years I've lived here with Lou.

I can go weeks, even months without noticing it but lately I've been thinking about it a lot. To be honest I'm not sure what it is that I am thinking when I look at that mug and read the words. Maybe it is just that I wish things had been different with my mother and me. We were never close and I've often told friends that I learned what NOT to do from her when I became a mother. Growing up she wasn't there for me like I needed. As an adult, I know that my mother did the best she could with what she knew. She had some bad things in her life that she said she would tell me sometime but she never did. 

I was 40 when she passed away from breast cancer. After a month long hospital stay she was transferred to a skilled nursing facility. I'm convinced she had other medical problems, too. She was unable to communicate or really interact with any of us. That first evening at the SNF we were all with her. Half an hour after returning home my dad called to tell us they had called and my mom was gone. I believe that for whatever reason she waited until we had all left before dying.

My father seemed to think that she was going to get better and took her death really hard. I knew for months she wasn't going to recover from this and my 14 year old son had lost his cherished grandma. Fortunately, she had discovered the "magic of grandmotherhood" that I now understand and was a wonderful influence in his life. Sometimes reconciling my experience with Darrin's seems like night and day but she was a great grandma. 

None of this is terribly emotional for me (which is odd since I am a very emotional person). When I contemplate these past 30 years without her I'm not really sure what it is that I'm contemplating and I doubt that I ever will. There are a lot of good memories mixed in with the not so good ones.

Sometimes when I see that "Daughters are Special People" mug, I smile and sometimes I don't. I do wonder if it would have been different if she hadn't died when I was 40. I wonder if we would have talked more about some of the real life things as time went on. Most of our discussions were of a superficial nature although the last decade when we were both mothers did give me a glimpse of what might have been if she'd have lived longer. I just looked up at my mug again and the thought struck me that I am now ten years older than my mother was when she died. In this life I'll never know what might have been.

The one thing I do believe with all my heart is that someday I will know. I believe when we die and move into the next realm much is made clear to us. In some form we will be reunited with people from our past. I realize that this post is all over the place and if you're not sure what it is that I'm trying to say, don't worry, I'm not either. I just wanted to share my thoughts as I gaze at the mug my mother gave me over 30 years ago....thanks, Mom.