ABC Wednesday - C is for Chard

I'm walking across the Hawthorne Bridge, eastward. It's the middle of May. Purely by chance, I glance down toward my feet, something I am not wont to do on a bridge because I'm afraid of heights and might accidentally notice that the Willamette is far below. On the sidewalk up ahead, I see this rather large green leaf. When I stop to take a closer look, I see that it is replete with white veins and all by itself. Lamont identifies it for me later on as chard. Bonne chance! I have an ABC Wednesday C photo! Three cheers for the comely chard--hip, hip, hooray! Thanks to the congenial comer-and-goer who left the chard leaf for me to come across.

Update: It's no wonder that Mama is weak right now--she has lost about 13 pounds since she became ill, so we're embarking on a campaign to improve her dining selection as many days a week as possible. On the evenings Lamont works at the restaurant, he has permission and plans to make her a small take-out meal which either I or Leland will pick up and take the Mt. Tabor. Other days one of us will cook something at home and take some of it to her. Dr. Yutan OK'd this and also said to get her vitamins to her--she's malnourished. She's to return to see him in three weeks. She's ready to keep working at getting better, even if she does have a rash all over her back and night sweats two out of the last three nights; Dr. Yutan believes both to be a reaction to a drug she'd started taking after the stent went in, one that helps make the platelets not stick to the stent. He put her on a new drug today. He is glad that she shows no signs of depression, something we've not seen either.

Duncan is better each day although he has yet to gain any weight. We rode the bus over tonight after work, visited a while and got home in time to see most of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations from Tuscany and from New Orleans. Well, I watched. The tired little dog is asleep in his chair. Bourdain alternates from irreverent to reverent with each passing minute, but, oh, does he love food, eating food, learning about food, cooking food, shopping for food. Each episode I wish I were on his crew. OK, I'll tell the truth--I'm not sure I could deal very well with the Asian foods, but I'd still want to be there, camera in hand, peanut butter and crackers stashed away, just in case.

Gone but not forgotten

In early 2007, I noticed horse rings at the edge of neighborhood sidewalks. Empty horse rings evoked days of yesteryear, when men tied up their steeds after dismounting on the busy streets. Or they got down from their delivery wagons to tie up those hardworking draft horses so that they could make scheduled deliveries.

Then, something different happened. I saw a toy horse tied to a horse ring and got curious about what was going on. Google helped me discover that there was a movement afoot to place as many toy horses as possible, all started by a guy who moved to Portland and found the horse rings fascinating--The Horse Project, Portland, OR. People participated and then people vandalized and/or stole the horses. Thank goodness I was able to see some of this creativity for myself, but I haven't seen any since last May.

Here's the first horse I photographed on March 31, 2007, on busy NW 23rd a few blocks from our apartment. What a lovely little toy horse, standing proudly.


And here's the second one I found, also on NW 23rd. I took this photo on April 5, 2007.


Neither horse remained there for more than a week. Have you seen anything like this in your city?

Update: Mama and Duncan are holding their own very well. She's got a doctor's appointment on Tuesday morning.

Matching street-level accessory

On the corner of SE 55th and Belmont, I first noticed the butter-yellow vehicle, mostly hidden by the green hedge. With the help of Google Images, I believe it's a 1963 GMC Suburban Carryall. Anyway, I wanted to walk closer and take a photo, but I wasn't sure how accurate the bus arrival time I had gotten from calling TriMet's Transit Tracker really was. So, I stood there. Then I noticed that the house was the exact same color as the vehicle. Click! It felt mighty good to be taking a photo just because I liked the looks of what I saw.

Duncan and I were on our way home from visiting Mama Sunday afternoon. Both of them continue to slowly improve, praise the Lord.

Before the bus came, this wonderful old pickup truck came rolling by--I'm pretty sure that it's a Chevy. Anyone know what year? From the 1950s?

To Grandma's room we went

After a busy Saturday morning filled with walking and feeding Duncan and doing laundry, Duncan and I got ready to visit that little woman that he knows as Grandma. By the time we were ready to go, it was snowing, making for slushy sidewalks and wet streets. Although I got plenty of rest last night, I didn't want the stress of dealing with traffic, so I decided to go on the bus. Since Duncan felt better and is no stranger to going places in a bag, I put him in a roomy tote (along with a small towel) and stashed that in my American Tourister Mobile Office. A few seconds after I took this photo in the building's lobby, he settled down into the bag, I zipped it almost shut, and we were rolling right after I had attached my Yak Trax to my shoes--they're rubber and metal traction devices.

Our first stop was the Fred Meyer store for some cherry-flavored store-brand cough drops--Mama's had a cough this week, but her lungs sound clear. I also got her a four-pack of diced peaches, one of her favorite snacks.

We boarded a 15 bus just across the street from the grocery, at Burnside and SW 19th, and disembarked about 25 minutes later at SE 60th and Belmont. My cell phone rang just as I stepped onto the sidewalk--Mama calling. I asked her to hold on and walked to the covered entrance ramp. She asked, "What was that noise?" when I had said hello. I explained that it was the bus and that we were just outside. "Can you stand up and look out your window?" I asked. I managed to unzip the rolling bag enough for her to realize that Duncan was inside. She thought that was neat, she told me when we walked into her room a few moments later.

We visited while she nibbled at her lunch, Duncan beside her on the bed. I put away all of her clean clothes--that's why there's a second black rolling bag in the photo. Then we made our way down the hall to the sitting/TV area where we played Scrabble for several hours. I have to say that I barely beat her--it was the luck of the draw. Also we got to visit with a couple of sweet Great Danes who come regularly to the facility. Duncan enjoyed a sniff or two with the male dog, Goliath, whose nose didn't seem much smaller than Duncan's whole head. By the time we finished the game, Mama was ready for some bed rest. It obvious that she's got a ways to go to regain her strength, but it's so gratifying that she's willing to work at it. I just hope that she regains her appetite--it's gone again. Perhaps when she visits her regular doctor on Tuesday, he can prescribe something to help boost it.

We kissed and hugged, and the two of us headed for the elevator. In the lobby, closer to the outdoors, I put on my layers and got Duncan's tote ready for him, where I put him after a potty break. While we waited for the bus across from Mt. Tabor, I took the photo below. Mama's room is on the third floor; I forgot to count over from the left to see which one was hers. I think it's probably the seventh one.

As you can tell, the snow had stopped. We made it home just fine. As soon as I post this, we're going to doze on the couch. If we were watching TV all of this time that we're on the couch, would that make us a couple of couch potatoes? Isn't that part of the definition of couch potato--sitting in front of the TV?

Heavenly Iris

First let me apologize for forgetting the monthly theme day. And for not having time or energy to look at all of your posts right now. I will at some point, and I know I will find them to be impressive.



Last May I found this flower in a front yard, off Burnside in SE Portland. Naturally I thought it was beautiful and started to take a photo. Imagine my surprise when the homeowner, who saw me looking, said, "Smell it. It smells like grape Kool-Aid." I took a sniff, not knowing what to expect. She was so right. Neat-o!

Here's an interesting bit about the iris, in general, that I found by using Google:

This next piece of information is not exactly a legend, but we found it to be one of the neatest things we read. The flower got its name from the Greek goddess Iris, goddess of the rainbow. Iris was also know to be the messenger of Zeus and Hera. Iris would take messages from "the eye of Heaven" to earth travelling on the arc of the rainbow. The word iris means "eye of heaven". It was the name given to the goddess, this flower, and the center of your eye. This means that each of us carries a piece of heaven with us.

Update:

Mama moved to the bed by the window today. She says it's cooler on that side of the room, so she wraps up in a blanket while sitting in her chair. I'm going to take her warm vests with me when I go over there tomorrow. And a small footstool for her little feet. She said she worked about two hours this morning and one hour this afternoon in therapy. I told her that all of us are very proud of her and how hard she's working.

Duncan didn't have any accidents last night; we sort of slept on the couch. I've been fighting falling asleep sitting at my desk at work and on the bus and now at the computer. In a few minutes, I'll be stretched out on the couch.

He also didn't have any accidents today while I was at work. Lamont came over at 11 a.m. and took him out where he successfully did his business. That meant that I didn't come home to a mess myself--hooray. He's ready for me to hit the couch.

One thing before I go, please add to your prayers the safety of Lamont and his girlfriend Lindsay, and Leland, as they ride their bicycles to visit Mama, to meet her at the doctor, to our apartment to check on Duncan. Thank you so much.

Reflection

Here I am, last August, reflected in glass, reflected in a mirror. I'm excited about the chance to take this photo.

Here's the latest. Mama is making some progress, slowly. Some of the food is OK. I have plans to take her food now and then, food that she's used to eating. She's working hard with all of the physical therapy. She should get to move to the bed beside the window soon, so I'm hoping that she will sit in her chair and look out at the world as often as possible.

Duncan is home but still is not quite right, better but not all the way back to normal.

Lamont, Lindsay and Leland continue to help all three of us--Mama, Duncan and me--without a moment's pause and with an abundance of love. I am in awe.

I am tired but still eating right and sleeping OK. I need the chance to walk more, but time is way, way tight right now.

The weather is typically rainy but somewhat cooler than I remember last winter's being. I figure our spring and summer flowers will be even more beautiful than last year.

Thanks to everyone who has prayed, e-mailed, commented, looked at either one or both blogs, sent a card(s), thought good thoughts for us, commiserated with us from afar, loved us. Knowing y'all are there is such a comfort.

An Intersection (and Mama and Duncan)

The Portland streetcar turns left off NW 23rd at Lovejoy, in front of the US Bank branch that is closest to our apartment. The green leaves on the trees tell you that I took this photo earlier in the year, May in fact.

I like this intersection. Besides the streetcar, there's the #15 bus that travels NW 23rd. Then you've got loads and loads of vehicles--cars, pickup trucks, delivery trucks, SUVs, trash trucks. And let's not leave out pedestrians. NW 23rd is one of Portland's busiest street for shopping, eating, strolling, no matter the day of the week or the time of day. I left pedestrians out of this particular shot because I wanted to focus on the intersection itself.

Mama made a pretzel today during therapy, in addition to exercising. She didn't eat it after it was baked in the oven, though, because she's not a pretzel gal. When I saw her this evening, she looked pretty good but somewhat fragile--understandable, given what she's been through. Leland visited, too, completing some of his math homework while Mama ate a bit of the deli food I brought from Zupan's. We put the rest of it into the frig in the dining room, with her name on it, for tomorrow.

Duncan is still at the vet's. I'm hoping that he'll be able to come home after work tomorrow. On Saturday I'd like to take him and our Scrabble game to Mt. Tabor for some together time with Mama.

I slept about five hours in a row last night, then went back to sleep for another hour or so. Hooray!

ABC Wednesday: B is for Beads of Moisture

In October the hedges to the left of our building's front door caught numerous falling leaves. Those leaves provided the perfect landing spot for moisture, gathered and shaped into beads--hanging tenaciously, giving gravity what for.

Tenacious--persistent in maintaining, adhering to, or seeking something valued or desired, according to Merriam-Webster online. Sounds like us.

I hope you're enjoying some of my older photos because I'm hard-pressed to get to take many right now.

Here's the latest:

Mama made it OK through a busy day--PT, a shower including washing her hair, and the trip to the neurologist. Lamont and Lindsay met her there. The man was new to us--the hospital neurologist, as we understand it, doesn't see patients anywhere but the hospital, so this doctor is her counterpart. Anyway, he checked her out thoroughly, Lamont told me, and told her he thought she was doing pretty well, to continue with her physical therapy and come back to see him in a month. That's when Mama asked him, "Do you mean I have to stay there for a month?" And the doctor replied, "You'll be better off if you do." Mama told me she guessed she'd just have to accept that. Her voice sounded convinced, not breaking or wavering. Lamont told me that doctor doesn't really know his grandmother and what she just might be able to do. I'd like to believe that myself, but with the messy weather and the dog's diarrhea and work and laundry and needing to rest, I haven't laid eyes on her since Saturday; she's been extremely understanding and supportive. Her voice is good on the phone; she doesn't sound confused; she's remembering things and telling them to my Aunt Baker on the phone, then later on when she talks to me, she tells me the same stuff. I'm more hopeful than I've been in weeks.

I finally got through to the vet's this morning around 8:30 a.m. and asked how's Duncan. I was told he's ready to go. I asked if he's over his diarrhea. I was told for the most part. I told the woman that I'd come after work. For the most part? What's that mean? My brother said is that like being sort of pregnant? Anyway, after work I got in the car and drove the 12 miles to the vet. That little guy was as happy to see me as I was to see him. The woman said that his poop was firming up, that I should give him a quarter tablet of a 2 mg. immodium two times a day, then I paid, got his coats on him and took him outside for a walk before we got into the car. It was snowing great big wet snowflakes which was really pretty. What wasn't pretty was the diarrhea Duncan had after he peed. So, I put him into the car and went back inside to ask for written proof that he's not contagious so that I could look for a doggie day care in my own neighborhood--it's 15 miles to the vet; we've kept going there because we started there, we took out the wellness plan which has saved us a great deal of money, and we like the people there. The vet said that no where would take Duncan with his diarrhea eventhough he's not contagious and offered to keep him there again tonight.

I sat in the car talking with Mama, snow falling all around but not sticking right then. We decided that I'd drive towards her building and that I'd call again as I got closer. The snow kept up for some miles, then turned into snowy rain or rainy snow. Still, she told me to go on home and get some rest. That's just what I'm going to do in a little while. I had to go to the grocery store then drive around for a while, looking for a parking space. Thankfully I found one half a block from the door! I ate supper, washed the dishes, put some sweet potatoes and Yukon golds in the oven to bake, took some ham slices out of the freezer--I'm trying to eat normally, not just peanut butter sandwiches--and sat down to work on the blog for a bit.

Hen and Chicks

Christmas Day snow sprinkles this pink pot filled with a hen and her chicks, resting on its side on Lindsay's Aunt Laura's deck in Lake Oswego. I decided to post this photo not only because of the obvious connection to Mama and Howard and me, to me and Lamont and Leland, but also because I saw a sprinkling of snow outside this morning.

Here's the latest:

Mama's first Monday at Mt. Tabor went pretty well. She had PT and occupational therapy, too. One is for her legs and one is for her arms, she explained to me over the phone. So far she hasn't had much good to say about the food which causes me some concern. I'm going to check into my bringing her supper several times a week--if I can have permission to do that. Tomorrow afternoon she has an appointment at the neurologist's office. The wheelchair van will transport her, and Lamont will either go with her or meet her there. I really need to go to work.

I had to take today off because Duncan has had diarrhea since Saturday, not too long after we left the vet's office. He's spending the night there tonight, under observation for a tiny dosage of Immodium. I've spent the last two nights sleeping on the couch with him on my chest so that I could feel him move. I certainly didn't want diarrhea anywhere in the apartment, so I made him a diaper of sorts from a store brand adult diaper. I used duct tape to hold it together, and as long as he rested on me, he didn't move around and shove it off. OK, I know you're are trying really hard right now not to fall out laughing at such a sight--I would be too if I'd had enough sleep the last two nights--ha, ha! He really is the sweetest little guy! I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight--hooray!

Thanks again for every prayer, visit and comment, from all of us.

These days will come again.

Mama and Duncan at Cannon Beach, May, 2007. This is what the two of them want, to be together again, enjoying what life brings. Naturally I'm in there, too, because I took the picture!

Mama started physical therapy today at Mt. Tabor. She calls it PT and where she's staying Tabor House. Hey, six of one, half a dozen of the other, right? She said to tell y'all thanks again for thinking of her and that she's doing her best to get better so that she can come home to our apartment. I second all of that!

The Promise of the Rose Buds

I look at these exquisitely tight buds, at their perfection and their portent of future perfection as represented by the blossom. I think of Mama's future, of Duncan's future, and mine. All we ever really have is the semblance, the idea, of a promise. That's enough, isn't it?

Along with this photo of the What a Peach rose that I took in May, 2007, here for you--our CDPBer friends--is the e-mail I sent to our family and friends on Saturday:

The physical therapist and doctors consulted and decided Mama was ready to return to Mt. Tabor Skilled Nursing Facility so that she could be closely monitored as she works on regaining her strength and mobility. Since she has steadily improved since late Wednesday afternoon, that's good news because I believe this time that she has a real chance to accomplish that goal. She's in a different room, in the bed near the door, but with a more interesting view of the sky. At least I think it's more interesting--with the rain today, the sky was a uniform light gray for the most part. There is a lady named Pat in the other bed--she's either a couple of years older than Mama or a couple of years younger--almost to the day since her birthday was Jan. 17--but I cannot remember which right now.

Fatigue sets in once one becomes still. Today was a very long and involved day for me, starting with bathing Duncan before our trip to the vet. He needed his nails trimmed, and I wanted to him to be checked for a possible reason why he's been losing weight since Mama went into the hospital. I had quite a scare when the vet felt a lump beneath his left ear and surmised it was a swollen lymph gland--maybe an infection, maybe cancer. I spent a couple of hours wondering if he had cancer and how in the world would I tell Mama. His blood test and fecal test didn't show anything out of the ordinary. Also, all three vets checked the lump and came to the conclusion that it is a salivary gland. The vet sat down beside me and said, "I'm wondering, since this started happening when your mother went into the hospital, if she wasn't sneaking him treats, and now that he's not getting them, he's losing weight." I looked at her and smiled slowly. "My Mama wouldn't sneak this dog treats, no way. She's a straight, narrow, arrow. Just ask my two sons who are now grown men how straight she is about such things. They'll tell you. Besides, she doesn't want him weighing too much because it could hurt is long spine. No, that's not it." Poor girl was several shades of pink/scarlet/red, taking it all in stride. So, the plan is to increase the amount of food he gets at his two meals and to come back in three weeks to see if he's gained any weight. If he hasn't, then they'll dig deeper for a cause. Y'all dog people out there, should I have advocated for more now? I'm tired and overloaded. I'm cautiously optimistic about this, but somewhat alarmed, too.

I forgot to tell you that after I bathed him, I rolled him up in a towel to help him dry as he napped for a bit. I was busy getting Mama's clothes, etc., back into the suitcase and/or bag. When I realized he was not all the way dry, I got my brand new hair dryer with a diffuser and blew him dry. The little cutie took it very well. Then I put on his black houndstooth coat with the collar and his new water repellant coat with the reflective stripes. That way he was double wrapped against the cold and rain. He looked right at home in Portland where everyone layers.

After we left the vet, we headed for Mt. Tabor and Mama. She was some kind of glad to see the little guy, as he was to see her. I put him down beside her right side where he cuddled up at her armpit, his little head resting on her upper arm. It did my heart a great deal of good to see the two of them together. We stayed a couple of hours--he napped while I put her things away and the two of us talked. The difference in how Mama was after her first arrival at Mt. Tabor on Jan. 17 and today was unreal to the real good side! I told Mama that if it does snow, or even threatens snow, I won't be over on Sunday. She certainly understands that. Her facility is closing in on the 600 foot elevation, while the apartment is probably at 350-400 feet. For a week (until today when warmer air--mid 40s--blew up from California, bringing the rain) we've had lows around 25 and highs around 33-37 degrees. So, who knows, Portland itself could be ripe for snow. TriMet has already put chains on 50 buses that go up into the hills where the elevations range from 700-1000 feet.

Now Duncan is curled up beside me on the couch, asleep. I've got my computer on a lap desk that Lindsay and Lamont gave to Mama for either Christmas 2006 or her 81st birthday--I can't remember which. I don't think that I'll stay alert after I send this e-mail and finish with my Portland Oregon Daily Photo entry. It was good day, though.

Thank you for your comments and your prayers, for sharing our hope.

Jump for joy with a red-headed boy!

Water, an irresistible force where boys are concerned. Standing there for several minutes, I snapped photo after photo, my mind flooded with memories of my own two sons and water play. And I can tell you that if Mama physically could jump like this red-headed boy, she'd be right there with him, in the fountain at the Rose Garden Arena. She's had another good day. Who knows--she might end up there with him, and is already there in spirit.

Everything's coming up roses, we hope and pray

Last May I took this photo of a Tuscan Sun Rose at Portland's Rose Garden. I thought it illustrated very well how today went, in a totally unexpected way.

This is entirely random, out of time sequence, whatever--sorry.

OK, here's what happened. Mama's symptoms of nausea and the feeling that her eyes were floating in a pan of water were so much better today that the neurologists consulted with the cardiovascular surgeon and afterwards, they made the decision to postpone the surgery, to see if this continues.

Naturally I asked postpone for how long. What if she wakes up tomorrow nauseous and vomiting, what then? The answer from the cardiovascular surgeon--medicine for that and wait and watch to see if it comes back on Saturday morning--not in those exact terms, but that is what he meant. He said that he'd be around all weekend if need be but he really didn't think he'd be needed because he believes that the steroids that Mama's been taking since late Sunday afternoon have finally had the proper impact on her inner ear nerve which, if this is what's really happening, is no longer inflamed.

The neurologists said she is to have physical therapy again tomorrow, and over the weekend we will do things with her. Today, before I had left work to head over there, Lamont and Lindsay got her into a wheelchair and took her up and down the hallway, asking her to read signs and look at photographs, etc. decorating the walls. None of this bothered her equilibrium or made her feel dizzy.

After I'd been there for a while, taking all of this in, she said, "I feel like I've been let out of a cage." Lamont kept saying, "I can't believe what I'm seeing," after having seen her yesterday for a couple of hours before going to work at 1 p.m. She was lying curled up in the bed, not wanting to focus her eyes on anything. He'd ask Lindsay, "Are you as amazed as I am?" "Yes," she'd say and grin real big.

About 1:45 p.m. the cardiovascular surgeon called and told us that he wanted to delay and that he'd come later to formally tell us why and to answer questions. Naturally Mama was hungry--she'd had nothing since applesauce the night before around 10 p.m. So, we asked her nurse if she could have something, jello even. She said she'd have to check for doctor's orders. Lamont told her that he'd just called, etc. so she said she'd believe us and get some. She never came back. In the meantime, Lamont and LIndsay were getting very hungry--they'd been there since right before noon. So I told them that I had four homemade turkey wraps in my lunch bag and they could have one each if they liked. They declined and when down to the cafeteria to find something more to their liking. All of a sudden Mama said, "Give me on of those turkey rollups." So I did, and she ate the whole thing! Slowly, along with sips of water. Then Lamont and Lindsay came back with a cup of sliced canned peaches for her which she ate, bite by bite. As she looked down at the cup of peaches and fished one out with her spoon, she said, "I couldn't have done this two days ago, I would have been feeling awful." I ate a turkey wrap with her, and the kids ate their food. We talked and kept looking at each other like what is going on here? Is this a false better brought on by medicines?

Leland came from school, hungry. I offered him the last two turkey wraps but they were too plain for him, so he went down to the cafeteria salad bar and got some shredded cheese and also added mustard from a packet that Lamont had. He ate both of them. We had a picnic in the hospital.

I helped Mama walk into the bathroom which she had not done since she first got to Mt. Tabor, last Thursday afternoon. She wasn't dizzy or wobbly. Her blood pressure was more normal, too. Her nurse and two student nurses are supposed to give her a shower this evening at 10 p.m. which is when she requested it. At 8 p.m. she's supposed to get a grilled cheese, some peaches, vanilla wafers and milk.

Right before we left, her medical doctors arrived. Both of them were pleased with how she looked. One said he felt cautiously optimistic which is a plain and effective way to put it. Mama feels like that herself, as do all of the rest of us.

So, thanks from the bottom of our hearts for all of your prayers and positive thoughts and kind words and wishes.

I'm about to sit on the couch with my little dog.

A bank of pay phones, an alternative mode of communication

Just after midnight Friday, on the wall outside a gate at PDX, I found these. I consider them relics, well-maintained, but relics nevertheless. Mostly I was so glad to have something to photograph while I waited for Howard's plane.

Mama felt a little more normal part of today. She got several birthday cards; the kids gave her a pretty balloon, and we all visited. Marsha from my work came to see her, too. She walked several blocks to do that, and it's mighty cold outside. Wasn't that sweet?

Thursday when we know something about Mama's procedure, I'm so thankful that I won't have to call everyone who cares about her on a pay phone. Whew! I think I'm sort of tired now. Can you imagine how exhausted I'd be if I had to make hundreds of phone calls? I can, and it's not a pretty picture. I am so thankful for the Internet, Gmail, and all of y'all!

ABC Wednesday - A is for All Service Musical Electronics Repair--one fine neon sign--and some new news, finally

At SE 6th and Morrison, this sign has long caught my eye as I happened to drive by. Luckily one day I had a chance to take some photos, especially for ABC Wednesday.

I also think this is fitting because, so to speak, we finally got some "service" and just might get a "repair" later this week, "all" for my little Mama.

Now for the new news:

Mama will have right subclavian bypass surgery on Thursday afternoon, some time after 2:30 p.m. ,Portland time, probably. Dr. Douville, the cardiovascular surgeon, put it to us--Mama, me, Howard and Lamont--like this. There's a 5 in 100 chance that she'll die, have a heart attack or stroke, during the surgery. There's a 50-50 chance that the surgery will get rid of her nausea, but it should allow her blood pressure to stabilize in her body so that if the surgery doesn't fix the problem, there should be a chance to work on it with medications.

Mama said to him that all she wanted was a chance to not feel like her eyes were floating in a pot of water. Right now that's not happening as often, but she's taking an anti-nausea med as needed.

So, she said to say thanks so much to everyone for your prayers and positive thoughts. We thank you, too.

Howard had to stay over a day because he felt so rotten, and he was very glad to be in the meeting today, to meet the surgeon and hear the answers to all of our questions. His plane takes off at 6 a.m. tomorrow, and I'm going to work tomorrow and half of Thursday. Lamont doesn't work on Thursdays, neither does Lindsay. Leland has class until over in the afternoon, but I'm sure he'll head to the hospital then, just like he did today.

I have not succumbed to the virus, thankfully. I am sleeping plenty, except for rising early to take Duncan out and then fooling around with my hair--gotta look presentable, don't you know? Thank goodness I got it cut two weeks ago, earlier in the day that Mama was first admitted tot he hospital. With the hair products that I purchased, I'm looking presentable each and every day.

Of course, all of this depends upon nothing else out of the ordinary happening.

Under construction, sort of like things around here

There used to be a vacant lot here, used for parking. Now it's the site of a new high rise office building a couple of blocks from the Willamette River. That the west end of the Hawthorne Bridge in the distance.

No real news on the Mama front other than she's not regressed, thank goodness. There is a chance that we will get to have a risk/benefit conversation with the cardiovascular surgeon about this work that needs to be done on her carotid arteries and the bypass surgery. We might find out tonight, but more likely in the morning--if the stars are a-lined.

We've got other problems, short-lived ones, we hope. My brother woke up with a virus which has caused him grief all day, and now he's exhausted and has been dozing on the couch with Duncan. I do not feel very well myownself. Also, Portland's experiencing extremely cold temperatures which makes us even more susceptible to feeling poorly. I got us some popsicles and crackers and Gatorade earlier, so we're ready for anything.

Thanks for your continued prayers and kind comments.

Rolling fields, lone tree, plus the latest on Mama

The fields alongside Helvetia Road, between Highway 26 and the Helvetia Tavern, are beautiful to me. I took this photo on Jan. 12 after I had been out there for lunch and a break from the hospital. Leland cooked it and served me--sweet.

Mama's anti-nausea medicine seems to be helping a great deal, finally. She said it has been wonderful not to feel so bad most of today. She managed to eat a bite or two of toast for breakfast and a little bit of canned peaches and fresh watermelon around lunch time. A physical therapist evaluated her and encouraged her to walk using a walker. My brother rolled her wheel chair right behind her and I rolled the IV pole in front of her as she made her way slowly for maybe a total of 15 feet, with a rest stop in the middle, sitting in the wheel chair.

One other wrinkle--the neurologist visited, and after Mama mentioned again that her left ear still hurt some, she decided to give Mama some steroids today and tomorrow, to see if the inner ear nerve is inflamed. Wouldn't if be great if she could be helped that simply.

Thank you for your continued prayers and thoughts.

Flat Stanley and a Mama Setback

Flat Stanley heard that it snowed back home in Mississippi, so he wanted me to go ahead and post this photo I took one morning this week, about 7:30 a.m. It's not snow, though; it's frost on the roof of the Buick.

Friday morning when Mama woke up at Mt. Tabor, she was nauseous and vomiting. It was a few hours before they could get an order for compazine for that, so she spent quite a bit of time being miserable. However, over in the late afternoon she was letting ice chips melt in her mouth and didn't appear to be dehydrated. This morning her condition was the same, even after a second compazine, and her blood pressure quite high. I asked the nurse to call her doctor, and the neurologist was the one she got in contact with by phone. That doctor told Mt. Tabor to send Mama back to the hospital which they did. She's been admitted again and is a hundred percent miserable at best. In the ER she kept saying that her eyes were swimming around in her head, and even after two doses of one nausea med and two doses of another nausea med, she felt no better.

My brother Howard and I are in her room now, waiting to see a doctor, we hope. His plane landed about 12:20 a.m. this morning, I made one wrong turn on the way back to the apartment but corrected our route quickly and got us over to the guys for a short visit with Lamont and Lindsay--Leland was sound asleep. Lindsay herself didn't feel well, and threw up,off and on all night but did feel some better about 3:30 p.m. today.

Before all of this happened, Howard, Lamont, Leland had planned to eat brunch at the Bijou Cafe, one of mine and Mama's favorite places to eat which we discovered with the help of the guys back in the summer of 2004. I made the decision that we ought to eat there and then to to the ER because otherwise we could be in a real bind, energy-wise. Thank goodness I did because we ate around 11:15 a.m. and it's now eight hours later. We're talking about supper out at the Helvetia Tavern, after we see the doctor. That meal we had at the Bijou was as good as it always is. I don't know exactly what they had, but I had a short stack of buttermilk pancakes and some apple pear compote with whipped cream. I needed that great tasting comfort food, let me tell you. Plus, Howard and I walked from the apartment to the cafe, through mist, rain, small hail and mist again--all in a mile and a third. It felt splendid to be walking, especially with my brother!

Speaking of the doctor, when Mama was being transported into her room, I saw Dr. Kendall, her primary medical doctor from her other admission. He was surprised and sad to see her back so quickly and in such a state. He said maybe we would have to go with one or both of the other procedures on her blood vessels. He said that he would make sure whoever would take care of her over the weekend would know all about her.

Just now another young doctor came in to ask some questions and check her out. She told us that she had talked with the partner of the cardiovascular surgeon who had consulted with the other doctors for the last two weeks. It appears at this time that Mama will have something done with her carotids, then the bypass. I don't know myself how her little body will take all of this, but as she is right now, totally miserable, she would say "Go for it" if she felt like talking. This doctor had no specific time frame, but she said that more than likely someone from cardiovascular would see her tomorrow. I'm hoping that the man who did the left subclavian stent will see her tomorrow, too. That way maybe they could do this on Monday. Who knows.

All of her stuff that I took to Mt. Tabor, clothes, toiletries, framed photos, etc. is being kept there until I can get it tomorrow. Thank goodness. I can go get it while Howard is here with Mama, waiting for doctors to appear out of the mist. Sorry, but it does seem to take an awful long time for them to appear sometimes.

Anyway, we're going to eat supper. Time passed--we ate well at Helvetia Tavern--Duncan's been walked and bathed. He and Howard are dozing on the couch. We're all going to bed after the weather forecast. Oh, my,it's predicted to be 20 degrees Monday night. On another channel, it's predicted to be 25 degrees Monday night. Either way, it sounds cold.

Thank you for your continued prayers and support.

Mama's Settled In and Good-bye Crud!

That sweet little lady, my Mama, is a champ. She's ready to do whatever she possibly can for however long it takes to get back to her life--that's the message I got from her today as we moved her into her room at Mt. Tabor. Physical therapy begins tomorrow. I predict it will be one of the hardest things she's ever done, but I'm doggone proud of her attitude. Lamont, Lindsay and Leland came by to visit Grandma just as her dinner arrived. We talked and laughed a bit as she ate some of it despite being so tired from her busy day that included a shower as well as the ride in a wheelchair ambulance. After Mama got settled back in bed, hoping she'd stay awake for "Wheel of Fortune," we hugged and kissed on her, saying good-bye until tomorrow. It wasn't easy on any of us, but each of us believes in what she's about to undertake and in our ability to support her and to help make good things happen for her as she rehabilitates.

In between conversations with Mama, we'd talked about food and how hungry each of us was. We decided to meet at the Savoy Tavern & Bistro at SE Clinton and 25th.

On the drink menu, I saw "Viva La Cruda," a margarita. Besides the fact that I really like a good margarita, the word crud in cruda sparked my imagination. Merriam-Webster defines crud as something disagreeable. My ricochet brain took me from crud to what's been going on with Mama is cruddy, as in "It's absolutely cruddy that she's not able to come home and sit in her recliner and enjoy Duncan, her crossword puzzles, and being together after I get home from work or on the weekends." So, I thought, I'll have a Viva La Cruda and drink that crud right outta mine and Mama's lives!

And that's just what I did, after Lindsay and I took photos, naturally.

I took this one without the flash.

I took this one with the flash.

Lindsay, my guest photographer,took this one without the flash and from an entirely different angle.


Which one is your favorite? And, no, I didn't drink three Viva La Crudas--just two. I also ate a fine tasting hamburger and French fries. Really good food and drink, being with those three young adults, the hope of our future--I'm saying "Hasta la vista crud!"

Afternoon delight and Mama news

From my work windows. Remember the hole in the clouds I posted Oct. 13? The photos are of the same area; you can see the tower at the top edge of the treeline.

I've never seen clouds like these. Have you?

Mama sat up in her wooden high-backed, padded chair with arms for one hour this afternoon. When I went to visit after work today, her supper arrived--a grilled cheese sandwich, canned peach slices, vanilla wafers, strawberry sorbet, and milk. She ate with more gusto than I've seen since she became ill, I'm happy to report. She also told me that she stayed awake better, too, and felt less dizzy now and then. Tomorrow's the big day. I'll let y'all know how it goes. Pray for strength, stamina and patience--for me! Ha! Pray for Mama above and beyone me, please. Thank you, thank you, thank you.