Depressing News

I don’t spend a lot of time on facebook or twitter anymore. I find it too depressing. Every day or two, it seems like a friend has lost a family member or a pet to death. Two other friends are facing a medical diagnosis that means a long haul to get the illness taken care of.

It was bad enough when it happened to my friends. It’s even worse when it happens to my own family. John has been ill since mid-November of 2022. We are waiting impatiently for the date when he can get his first operation, which we hope will make it possible for him to get more surgeries done, and he can finally work his way towards health.

And now I find myself stumbling over my own health issues. Some of you may know I had surgery on Mar 1. What I didn’t know until today was that they found ‘scar tissue’ when they did that surgery, and so they biopsied it. I was told today that the biopsy came back negative for cancer. Big sigh of relief. But that scar tissue, located where it is, could cause problems in the future, so I’m being referred to another doctor to figure out what can be done with it.

Yesterday, I saw yet another doctor, and she noticed something was abnormally thick for my age. (Normal would be 4 cm, while mine is 6 cm.) She doesn’t think it’s cancer, but she wants to biopsy it ‘to be sure’.

Needless to say, sometimes I find it difficult to focus on what I’m doing. But I keep trying to farble my way through.

To get back to what I was saying at the beginning of this; I don’t need any more depression or anxiety in my life right now. I’m on a full load of anti-depressants and my anti-anxiety meds have recently been upped, too. I’m sorry if you are going through a hard time, for whatever reason, and I don’t comment on your post. Chances are rather slim that I see it, because FB only sends your post to 7% of your friends. I wish everyone good health and a relatively good life. Just like I’m trying to do for myself.

Update: On the day I wrote this blog, I was unaccountably tired, very achy, and just plain cranky. I feel that crankiness came through, and I’m sorry about that. My circumstances are not anybody’s fault; they are just the hand I’ve been dealt by fate. Some days are better than others, and I will check in on social media when I can.

Fireweed

Somewhere I heard about ‘fireweed’, and my imagination immediately jumped to a vision of a weed with flowers that were bright yellow and red, with long slender petals that stuck up in the air and ‘flickered’ in the breeze.

The real fireweed isn’t like that. The flowers are a solid purple or pink that don’t look a thing like flames. It gets its name because it is probably the first plant to establish itself in an area that has been burnt.

Since then, I have also discovered that the parts of the plant that occur above ground can be used as a natural medicine. Would it surprise you to hear that fireweed has been used to treat fevers, inflammation and infections? It is also used to treat pain and swelling, tumors, wounds and an enlarged prostate. Certain forms of it have been used as an astringent and as a tonic.

And it’s edible! New shoots can be cooked like asparagus, while young flowers and leaves can be eaten raw. (They are slightly sweet and mildly astringent.) Older stems can be peeled and enjoyed as a snack. Older leaves and the flowers can be cooked as a vegetable, and will both flavor and thicken soups, stews, and the like.

If that’s not enough, you can stuff a doll or start a fire with the stuff contained within the seed pods. The seed pods are about 3 inches long, and when they pop open (with or without any help from you), the minuscule seeds are released, each with its own feathery tuft that allows it to ride the breeze to a new home. I’ve also read the adjective ‘cotton-like’ in reference to the seeds and tufts, which made me think it could be used to stuff a child’s doll. Or, use the stuff inside the seed pods as kindling to make a fire.

I like the concept of a fireweed. I think I might use the term for a plant on some other planet in one of my stories. Only I think my version of fireweed will have those red and yellow flickering flowers. And maybe those flowers are ghost-pepper hot!

Now, that strikes me as a real fireweed, in all ways.

http://wildfoodsandmedicines.com/fireweed/

https://medium.com/invironment/wild-edibles-fireweed-is-everywhere-8ea22e6d0a0e

https://www.rxlist.com/fireweed/supplements.htm

Old Characters

Like real people, characters get old. Or should. If a book only covers a couple years of a character’s lifespan, then that isn’t a problem. But if the author is young, and they have an old-ish character, they seem to make one of two errors:

Either their older character is afflicted with every old-age problem known to man, and a few we don’t know about, or the older character only talks about being old, and otherwise is as energetic and healthy as any young character. An author needs to have experience and in this case, most young authors don’t know what ‘getting older’ feels like.

I am no longer young, although I reject the idea that I am old. Still, I am beginning to experience some of those ailments that creep into the bodies of ‘old people’.

Arthritis is frequently thought of as an old person affliction. Mine started as occasional sharp pains in a knee, sometime during my 30s, but it really started slowing me down (literally, I could hardly walk more than 6 steps) in my mid-40s. That could have been earlier than most people, while a few people might not start experiencing it until their 60s or 70s. My knees are much better now (they’ve been replaced), but now I’m battling arthritic bone spurs in the shoulders that reduce my range of motion. And every time a thunderstorm is coming, every joint in my body aches - neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, knees... I suspect my ankles and toes ache, also, but their message of pain can’t fight its way through the messages coming from so many closer-to-the-brain locations.

Also during my 40s, I started needing to use reading glasses. This included not only reading, but sewing, painting, computer work... The list is practically endless. I have slowly progressed to a stronger and stronger magnification. If your older character doesn’t have glasses, he/she might lean closer and/or squint to try to bring details into focus. On the other hand, my dad used to hold the newspaper at arm’s length and squint, trying to focus his eyes, and he died around 49. So your character might do it either way, but probably not both.

If your story takes place in the future, medicine might have cured these ailments, or delayed their arrival for decades, in which case, you don’t really have an older character. If your story is in the past, people died much younger, and these afflictions arrived much earlier.

Old people’s immune systems gets worn out, so they catch things easier and keep it longer. Gout is extremely painful and keeps that joint from bending for days. (These days, steroids send it packing quickly.) Do a little research on old age afflictions, and then pick a couple for your older character to deal with. Don’t load him/her down with every illness; it’s not only unlikely, they would be pretty useless. And don’t forget the common cold, flu, and all those other illnesses that even younger people have to contend with.

Make your character’s older age believable, but don’t make that character a burden to the rest of the war party. Unless, of course, that’s integral to the story.

Best Made Plans

Have you ever made plans that just didn’t live up to your expectations? Even vacations have bumps when things don’t go your way. Our last vacation ...

In Florida, every time I lay down, my sinuses immediately plugged up and I was soon mouth breathing. My cpap mask only covers my nose, so it was no help.

John had signed up to march in Disney’s StarWars weekend parades. He was up at 6 AM that first Friday in severe pain and unable to bend one knee. I took him to ‘urgent care’... which didn’t open until 8. He had to scoot in and out of the back, with the leg stretched along the seat. It was gout; they prescribed steroids and ice packs. (He did get to march the next day, and for the rest of the parades while we were there.)

To see the parade, I had to be at the gate by 7:30 (one never knew what time they were going to let people in), rush to one of the (2) benches along the parade route and park myself. The parade happened at 11. The humid heat did nothing for my stuffy sinuses.

I got a page written for my ‘Mac’ serial, but Open Office kept crashing and finally refused to open my ‘Mac’ file again. Unable to think, having no OO specialist to consult, I gave up. John, however, got his 2nd novel rewritten (2nd draft).

I finally let John take me to ‘urgent care’, and I waited 3 hours to see a doc. Then the pharmacy didn’t have the medicine! Augmentin was on back-order? The doc changed the prescription. To sulfur pills. My brother has to take sulfur pills. They work, but not quickly. Another week before I started feeling almost decent.

Friends spent weekends with us. On the last parade day, as everyone was getting ready, the wife fell and struck her head. The husband took her to urgent care, so John went alone to do the parade. Long story short, it was much more than a bump on the head; she ended up in the hospital for 2 nights before they could go home.

Wednesday, I started home, stopping to call my mother-in-law to say I was on my way. She had been taken to the hospital that morning. Frantic phone calls and text messages dogged me all the way home.

Thursday, the radio talked about severe rain and some flooding ‘in Missouri and along the Mississippi.’ I was in Illinois, about to turn west to St Louis. I called my son and asked him to research this, in case I needed to continue north and go through Des Moines. He said it was located south of I70 (the road I would travel).

East St Louis, Friday morning, heavy rain. Happily, the worst was over by the time I left St Louis. But EVERY river and creek I crossed was definitely over its banks! Like I wasn’t nervous enough.

NOT a good vacation. It wasn’t a bump, it was a series of steep cliffs the entire time. I suppose there’s bound to be a bad one every so often, right? But I haven’t given up; we plan to head for Washington (state) and an Alaska cruise in August. Hmm. Maybe it’s good we got this ‘bad luck’ over during this vacation.

Have a Heart

Heart transfers have been part of the medical scene for a good chunk of my life.

Donated hearts, along with other organs, used to be (and still are) ‘harvested’ from a donor, packed in ice and rushed to the recipient. But the waiting list is loooong, and many people die while waiting for a new heart.

Australian doctors have harvested a heart from the recently deceased - 20 minutes or less - placed the heart in a special fluid, resuscitated it, and kept it beating until it was placed in the recipient patient.

They have done this 3 times. The first 2 recipients were doing well, the most recent patient was still in intensive care after the surgery. The doctors stated that with this process, with the heart actively beating right up until placed in the new body, they know the heart is good, that it hasn’t deteriorated past the point of use.

When I mentioned this article to my husband, he made some comment about, ‘Dr Frankenstein must be living in Australia these days.’ Always ready to see the funny side.

I found this report a bit creepy, when I first read it. But after further reflection, it dawned on me that all donated hearts come from dead people. Nobody has a spare one they can donate while still alive. If anything, the brain dead person who is still breathing and heart is still pumping through artificial stimulation is slightly closer to being alive than the gruesomely decapitated person from the car accident that just happened on Interstate 2 (for example). So the idea lost its creepiness.

In the old method, the heart dies as soon as it is removed, and it remains dead until it is sewn into the new person and jolted back to life. In the new method, the heart still dies, but it is resuscitated and nourished until time to sew it in the new person. The patient still gets a formerly-dead heart, but it hasn’t been ‘dead’ for as long.

Okay, I was wrong. Thinking about it like that makes both ways creepy. But it works, and if it saves more lives without costing any extra lives, then I’m all for it.

I still think the ideal thing to do would be to take some cells from the patient who needs a new organ, put those cells in a nutrient bath and coax them into growing a new heart/liver/whatever for that patient. I would think that would avoid rejection, too. Maybe they’ll get to that, some day.

While I’m waiting, I’m making a list of the parts I’d like grown for me. Let’s see, both knees, right shoulder, pancreas, gall bladder... Since I’m making a list, is there anything you’d like to order?