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Vaxxed and Boosted

November 18, 2024 //
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Good weekend. I woke feeling rested and alert, grateful for a wake time so reliable that setting my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. by mistake didn’t matter at all; I woke within 10 minutes of my planned time. No stress. Very little pain. It’s a good start to the day.

At my Traveling Partner’s request, and to attempt to meet more of life’s demands more easily with less stress, I changed my weekend routine a bit. Changes in routine are ridiculously difficult for me (and this may be true for a lot of people who live with the consequences of head trauma). It’ll take some practice to get the details down such that it actually feels “routine” again. It’s fine. As I said, it was a good weekend.

Yesterday I made time to finish up my annual vaccinations. Got my RSV vaccine – I’m old enough now for that one to be recommended, so I made a point to get it. Got the second shot for the shingles vaccine, too. I don’t want shingles, and if a vaccination is going to reduce my risk, I’m definitely getting it.

I know there are a lot of people with reservations about getting vaccinated. I don’t actually understand that, except in the case of people with certain very specific health concerns that make some vaccines higher risk than the risk of exposure to the condition they protect against. I’m old enough to remember polio being a serious concern, and to have older family members who actually had polio.  Smallpox is another huge vaccine success story. Measles, too. The science is clear and convincing; vaccination is effective risk reduction against a bunch of very nasty diseases. The Army, in my era of service, was pretty non-negotiable and no nonsense about vaccines; we stood in a long queue together in basic training and got vaccinated, one by one, against everything they had a fucking shot for. lol They got no argument from me.

…I think people have forgotten how commonplace and devastating some of these diseases were…

Do I want to be first in line to take a brand new vaccine with limited medical history? Maybe not. I suppose it depends on my risk and the lethality or negative outcomes of the disease. (I was pretty eager to get the COVID vaccine.) I don’t like taking any kind of new pharmaceutical. I feel more comfortable when I know there’s a history of efficacy and that the research shows it’s safe to take. But, with that in mind, I’m definitely “pro-vaccine”, given demonstrated efficacy and safety. I’ve had the flu shot most years since I was an adult free to make my own decision about it. The years I missed it were generally about not being able to afford medical care.

Vaccination-wise you do you, of course. I’m not seeking to persuade you. I get vaccinated because I don’t like being sick. I’m just mentioning it in passing. It was part of my pleasant weekend.

It’s a rainy Monday morning. There’s a fat round full moon in the sky peeking through the rain clouds. I’m hoping for a break in the rain and a walk before work. I feel more alert and clear-headed when I get a walk in the morning. It is a practice with proven worthiness. Later, I’ll take the car to the dealership on my way to the ok office. Nothing major, just a bit of routine maintenance; a headlight went out, and I don’t feel like replacing it myself in a steady downpour (and I’m hoping to have the headlights upgraded, if possible). If this were my partner’s truck it would be a nearly effortless bulb swap that takes only a moment. My car isn’t quite that easy, and it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. I could do it, but I don’t want to. I’ve got enough other stuff on my to-do list already. It’s a safety thing though, and needs to be done promptly. So… getting it done.

Every bit of all of these things are self-care related. Self-care is important. Definitely recommend taking care of yourself!

I sigh, and smile to myself. It’s a good beginning to an ordinary Monday. It’s a short week with a long weekend ahead; another opportunity to care for myself, this time by taking a couple days on the coast to paint and reflect and walk on the beach. Another good opportunity to begin again.

The rain stops, the clouds begin to drift away. Daybreak is faint on the eastern horizon, and it’s definitely a new day. I lace up my boots to get started down my path. I’m grateful for another day to walk it.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

Driving Lessons

February 21, 2024 //
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I’m contemplating the day ahead, and the commute behind me, and considering the things I’ve learned while driving. I mean, there are really some useful lessons that can be applied in a more general way, too.

  1. You can only go as fast as the traffic ahead of you is going.
  2. Driving conditions vary.
  3. Letting anger control your behavior does not contribute positively to the outcome.
  4. Other people’s behavior is not about you at all. Stop taking that shit personally, but also don’t be a dick.
  5. Open road ahead feels like “freedom”.
  6. Self-care matters; taking a break from stress is helpful.
  7. Until you “get there”, the journey matters more than the destination.

Things I’m thinking about as I start my day. Figured I’d share. 😀

If the stress is getting to you, in life or while commuting, stop and take a break! You’ll thank yourself.
Driving conditions vary.
Traffic sucks. Do your best. Breathe.
Most of the misery you experience is something you create for yourself. You can choose differently. Your results will vary.

I sip my tea and consider this; people who will “cheat” the traffic rules to get ahead in traffic are likely to be the same people who cheat in life, in various minor and major ways. More to think about. Who do you want most to be? I direct the question to the woman in the mirror, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Parables, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Potholes

August 22, 2022 //
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However smooth life’s path may seem, there are going to be some painful moments, challenges, unexpected detours… you know, “potholes in the road”. Just saying, even when life is purely delightful, don’t expect universally sunny days and smooth sailing (do expect mixed metaphors – at least here! lol).

The dinner planned for yesterday came together nicely. My Traveling Partner and I worked on it together; we had to.

I am learning how much I rely on my left hand. LOL

I was at the end stages of preparing dinner. Sauce cooking down, house filled with the delicious aroma. Cheese was grated and set aside, ready and waiting. Pasta weighed out for two servings, ready to cook once the sauce was nearer to being done. Garlic butter was all whipped up and ready to be spread on the bread that would become garlic toast. Good time to slice that batard and spread both halves with the garlic butter, I thought…may as well have it ready. I explicitly cautioned myself to use care; sharp knife.

With great care, I cut myself rather badly across my forefinger and middle finger. Shit. Totally my foolishness, too. I made an explicit point of taking note of the fucking risk then stupidly still cradled the batard of bread in my fucking hand to cut it. For real? Fucking hell, just take away my license to adult, right now. lol

Two cuts. One fairly minor, the other quite deep and too damned close to the finger joint to brush it off as “nothing really”. My Traveling Partner was concerned it may need stitching (or worse). Both were bleeding quite a lot. Urgent care is very nearby, so we agreed I would keep pressure on them, keep my hand elevated, and drive the short (less than a mile) distance to the clinic, while he kept an eye on dinner – that sauce wasn’t going to stir itself!

Left hand more or less useless made turn signals hilariously awkward, but the drive was uneventful. “We’re so sorry! We don’t have a provider on site today, we’re just doing tele-medicine appointments today!”, the startled woman at the reception desk said as she eyed the blood oozing between my fingers where the wad of paper towels in my grip didn’t absorb it. “You can go to the other urgent care… or the ER…” she suggested. I carefully loosened my grip on the paper towels to check the bleeding. The smaller cut on my index finger had stopped bleeding, the other not so much. I got directions and made my way to the other urgent care… which was closed. Fuck. I call my partner, share the details, and look at the injury again. It had finally stopped bleeding… so… I went home. Didn’t seem like much of an emergency at that point… More of an anecdote.

I got home safely. Dinner was ready, and it was delicious. Before serving it up, my partner bandaged up my fingers and splinted them so I would not reopen those cuts by absentmindedly trying to use that hand. Dinner was delicious. Hilariously, I know I’ll look back on this fondly as a wonderful evening with a moment of misadventure… I mean, the dinner was that good, and a cut? Just a minor mishap. My partner is still teasing me good-naturedly about it; he had just done the same thing last month!

It was only this morning that I was confronted with numerous wee inconveniences resulting from impaired use of my left hand. lol Typing being one of those. There are lessons here. I hope I learn them. In the meantime, I’ll be asking for help with a few two-handed tasks… and beginning again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Parables, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

Thoughts About Miles Traveled

July 15, 2022 //
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I’m still getting over being sick. It’s not COVID, though, so… there’s that. I figure I’ve got a good chance at getting fully over this with some summertime left for camping and hiking. I don’t think I’ll be up for it as soon as week after next – which is when I’d been planning on going. I wept some pointless childish tears over that, then re-planned my getaway.

Knowing I’m awfully sick, at least for now, I made two alternate plans. One of these is fully a month away (a bit more), well-past when I can expect to be over this and in fair shape for something as demanding as a decent hike… but… I couldn’t get my remote-ish wilderness-y spot that I favor for those dates. I could get a pretty good “plan B” tent site, though, so I booked it. I noticed that my favored location did have availability just 3 weeks from now, though… although I’m not nearly so certain I’ll really be ready for that level of exertion so soon… but… I booked that too. Greed? Selfishness? Maybe just yearning for that bit of solo time out in the trees, and the inescapable awareness that the “plan B” option is far less likely to really meet that need well. “Car camping” – more “glamping” really – and surrounded by others doing the same. My first choice favored site is quite a bit more remote, sufficiently so that on weekdays I’d likely be utterly alone save for the once daily drive through by the park rangers.

Sometimes “luxury” is just being close enough to the car to bring a giant cooler full of icy cold beverages!

My thinking is that if I’m up for it in 3 weeks, I go with the more demanding bit of hiking and camping, and the thrill of taking along my new camera for that experience. If I’m not quite good-to-go, I’ll cancel a few days in advance, giving someone else a shot at that choice campsite, and take advantage of the later date, easier location, two weeks later, and rely on hiking to choice locations for taking pictures, instead of being surrounded by it continuously.

The safety of a managed state park, the solitude of a remote hike-in camp. Me, the birds, the breezes, and the occasional chipmunk visitor.

I’m listening to rain falling. A drenching tropical rain, falling quite steadily. It’s a video, and I enjoy the sound of it. It’s not likely that I’ll be dealing with any rain on my camping trip, in August. More likely the afternoons will be quite hot, and the sunshine-drenched hiking will be miles of sweat and toil, and an occasional biting or stinging insect. Won’t stop me. Won’t make the coffee any less welcome at the start and end of each day. I do find myself thinking over my gear with great care; what I bring depends very much on which campsite I end up going to. A half-mile trek (each way) from car to camp that seems to be a steep uphill in both directions doesn’t allow for large coolers filled with icy beverages. I’m just not that young/strong/foolish these days. lol On the other hand, I don’t enjoy the car camping nearly as much since it reliably means I’ll be surrounded by other people, and the entire (100%) point of these excursions is getting some solitude to listen to my own thoughts for a while. So, I make two gear lists. Most of it is the same, and the differences are about balancing weight and convenience. I do like some luxury in my camping (really don’t like sleeping directly on the ground, is one good example; I generally take a cot).

I entertain myself while I’m still ill by thinking about the camping trip ahead – when I (hopefully) won’t be ill, and will benefit from having done so much careful planning. (I’m far less likely to get such well-considered planning done ahead of a trip happening with nothing but weeks of robust health and busy-ness in the days leading up to the departure.) So, I think very carefully about that long hike to the favorite camp site…

The signage says it’s 1/3 of a mile, but that appears to be “as the crow flies” – not overland, in steps. LOL

What can I comfortably carry on those steep hills? What do I really expect to need? What can I definitely leave behind (because I just haven’t ever used it if I did take it along)? What will I forget, and regret having done so? How many trips will I have to make to carry everything to camp? Can I reasonably expect to walk that many miles on a hot summer afternoon? Will I over-extend myself and end up forced to rest in camp most of the next day (I’ve got priors). Will I fail to prepare for some predictable misadventure that I knew better than to be unprepared for (looking your way blisters, water, fire management, toilet paper…)?

I chuckle quietly to myself as I listen to the rain fall over my headphones, gazing out my window onto the sunny boards of the fence between houses. Each new trail is a new lesson. Each mile is its own teacher. Each step I get to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Follow the Recipe

December 30, 2020 //
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Generally speaking, it makes a lot of sense to cook from the recipe, particularly considering I am neither a trained cook or chef, nor am I an amazing natural talent in the kitchen. I’m just a person cooking food. 🙂 The traditions of my family’s kitchens are not astonishing. They are a fairly commonplace hodge-podge of German, English, French, Slavic, and Mediterranean cuisines, with hints of flavors borrowed elsewhere. Ordinary “American food”. I was fortunate to be exposed to more foreign flavors and food experiences through my military service, and family members who traveled the world in their own endeavors. I enjoy food. I’m less of a fan of kitchen work (chopping, preparing, measuring, cleaning up, doing dishes), but… if I don’t cook, I have far fewer choices of what foods go into my mouth!

…If I want to reproduce a food, meal, or flavor I fancy, I pretty much have to follow the recipe with care, though, is my point…

“Follow the recipe” sounds rather a lot like “follow instructions”. There is, for sure, a time and place where/when not following instructions may be the wiser course, but let’s be real; those times/places are by far the exception. In general, it makes sense to follow directions, instructions, recipes, how-to guides, care manuals, safety warnings… all of that.

I had a powerful lesson in following the recipe over the holiday weekend – and it was tasty and delightful. I (re)learned how to make scrambled eggs (that are actually worth eating)! Doesn’t sound that exciting, I’m sure. It was delicious (but now I can’t say I don’t like eggs). I also (re)learned to make really good waffles. So much yum. 😀 Super delicious, and I got there by reading with care (in this instance equivalent to listening deeply), following the recipe, and practice. Totally worth it!

…Then, I ruined the wire whisk for my Kitchen Aid mixer by throwing it into the dishwasher carelessly (acting on the recollection that it is dishwasher safe – it isn’t – from a much older model that had an all-stainless whisk attachment – that still had care instructions, by the way, that said “hand wash only”). Well, shit. Harsh reminder that “rules is rules”, and in some cases (often with safety instructions or care instructions), those rules are there for a legitimately good reason. In this case, the dishwasher efficiently removed the coating from the zinc-containing base metal of the attachment’s hub (the wires themselves are still stainless), creating a safety/health concern, and also just generally an icky inky mess any time I touch that whisk.

I woke to a polite note from my Traveling Partner, who had emptied the dishwasher this morning. It included a frowny face, and a reminder that he’d specifically reminded me not to put these accessories in the dishwasher, and asking me to toss the ruined accessory and order a new one. Fuuuuuuuuuck. Damn it. Shit. I’m annoyed with myself. Learning new shit sometimes means unlearning old shit – and guess which one of those things does not come naturally to me?? (If you guessed that I may have some challenges unlearning habitual behaviors, you are correct!)

Follow the recipe. Yes, maybe you have a tweak in mind that could be really good… I’m not saying don’t explore or adventure, just noticing how much more successful I tend to be, in a great many circumstances, when I follow recipes – whether those are recipes for waffles or recipes for success is not relevant here. Recipes. Instructions. Warnings. Care guides. RTFM. Even I know that. Here’s the thing; I’m learning that there are elements of recipes one can adjust more or less to preference or with wild abandon… and others that can’t be adjusted without wrecking the result. Some substitutions work. Some don’t. Some changes affect flavor. Some changes don’t. Some changes result in the chemistry of the recipe breaking down completely (go ahead, leave out all the eggs, cheese, proteins and starches from your “casserole” – let me know how that one goes). So. There’s that. One more challenging bit of skillful adulthood to tackle. LOL

…Note: there’s really no version of “changing the recipe” that applies comfortably to actual safety instructions. Just saying, be safe.

So, this morning I’m sipping my coffee and shopping for a replacement wire whisk, and feeling grateful to have a partner who is fairly patient with me day-to-day, and feeling grateful to have reached this place where I am also patient with myself. There’s a ton of practice involved in changing old habits or frankly-less-than-ideal behavior. My results vary. I definitely have to begin again, like, a bunch. It is a process.

Heading into the new year, I’m not even upset over it, just mildly frustrated, a bit disappointed with myself, and eager to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter
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