well, it's monday and i'm still breathing in and out

I won't kid you, it's been a rough weekend.

That bit about "breathing in and out"?

It's easy to take that for granted unless it's so painful that each and every bone in your chest feels bruised and at risk of breaking.

That's what I had going early on Saturday morning.

I had woken up at 4 AM, thinking I had to pee, which I did... but also aware that I could not breathe normally without great pain.

I kept trying to get back to sleep, doing so fitfully for several hours.

Finally, around 11 AM, I woke and called Dr. Cobb's office.

Sorry, the answering service told me, all their doctors were over in South Carolina, but they would patch me through and have the on-call doc call me back.

Really?!

Fine.

Dr. Flood called me soon after, listened very well, and assured me this was normal and to be expected after ablation surgery. I should take two Tylenol right away, then more as needed.

So that's what I did, keeping to regular doses every 6 hours.

I also slept most of the day.

That probably was the biggest help.

I had awakened around 4 AM again yesterday morning, but I took another dose of Tylenol and returned to bed, sleeping well.

Someone from Asbury Memorial came by in the early afternoon, bearing flowers.

That makes the third time in less than a year that I have been given flowers by the church.

As I told the Peace Guy last night when he called, I will be so glad when my birthday comes next month and I am 64.

Being this age at which Mama died has certainly been a strain.

Coupled with Ronnie dying, my breast cancer scare, and getting fleeced by the DEA scam all combined to turn this past May into a horrible beginning of my new year.

Today, I woke up with no chest pain, lungs able to take deep breaths in and out, the bones in my chest taking no notice of that movement, no matter how deeply I inhaled -

all as it should be.

That's a good way to start this week.

I called Dr. Cobb's office to ask about the three new medications (amiodarone, sucralfate, and pantoprazole) and the missing of the ramipril for my blood pressure and all questions were answered by assistant Paige (new ones are temporary, so no need to worry about the need to not give to folks with hypothyroidism, like me; plus, definitely take the ramipril). 

Good to have the doctor back in his office.

Just one more month to go before my new year begins.

i thank You, God.

more than cake to her

Estelle Harris, perhaps best known as George Costanza's mother on "Seinfeld", died yesterday.

She would have been 94 in another twenty days.

Jim Reed shared the following story of an interaction he had with her some few years ago.

*****

"Once," Jim Reed said, "I was a featured extra in a f*cking horrible theatrical movie ("CBGB") that Estelle Harris played a supporting role in.
We both finished our lunch one day in the catering tent at approximately the same time, and just as I was pouring some hot water for my tea she walked up and began searching through the desserts with a dejected look on her face.
"Are you looking for something in particular?", I asked.
"Well," she replied softly, "I saw some folks with that red velvet cake, and it looked pretty good. Do you know if there is any left?"
"Yep. Hold on a second," I replied, and then walked a few feet over to my table and returned with the last slice of said cake -- which I had just taken for myself a couple of minutes before.
"Here you go," I said. "I believe this is the very last slice. I grabbed it a moment ago, but haven't touched it. Enjoy!"
"But it's yours, you got it first," she replied, with a slightly perplexed look.
"Yeah, but I wasn't actually in search of some, I just chose it absentmindedly. I'd much rather you have it, and I hope it winds up being good," I explained, handing it to her.
Almost immediately, tears began to well up in her eyes, and I feared I had somehow offended her.
Then she placed her free hand on mine and said quietly, "That's one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me in years."
I was taken aback and reflexively blurted out something like, "Well, I certainly hope that's not the case..."
She lowered her head a bit and said, "It doesn't matter that people recognize me from 'the show.' It's very hard for me to find work these days. And when I do, most people in the business act like I'm not even there. Being old in show business is not something I wish on others."
I was at a loss for words and truly did not know how to respond, so I just said with a smile, "Well, I am glad we met, and that you just happened to run into the only guy with any red velvet cake to give."
That broke the spell of the moment and she threw her head back and laughed loudly.
Then she said, "My last scenes are today and I fly out tonight. Thanks for making this a nicer experience than it has been up until now."
(Like I said, this was an infamously awful, unprofessional shitshow of a production, that resulted in one of the most understandably reviled films of the past 20 years.)
Before she headed back to the set, she walked by my table, leaned down towards me and said, "You know, that cake wasn't half bad!"
RIP, Estelle."
*****

Thanks, Jim, for sharing such a sweet memory.

doctors are people, too

I knew Barbara had a distrust of people in white coats, but I didn't realize how deeply that vein ran for her.

A textversation this evening made that clear, though.

She was checking in on me after the catheter ablation on March 31st.

- - - - - 

B: Getting ready for my own nap.
Do you feel any different, preferably better, since your surgery?

me: Felt like hit by truck, even hurt to breathe.
Told by on-call doc to take Tylenol.
Did so, back to bed again.
Now, tired, but able to take deep breaths.
Really don't like getting shocked.

B: Being able to take deep breaths is a really good sign!
Hopefully you won't have to do this again.

me: I don't think I could stand to.
I do know I should have asked more questions before this surgery,
so I would have known what was involved.

B: It wouldn't have mattered.
They water down their remarks so that you think it's nothing.
To me that's lying.
It's what they do - just like politicians.
I have a question that makes the docs squirm.
I now ask what should I know that they are not telling me.
I learned "you'll be walking tomorrow" means "you won't even get to
ride in a wheelchair post op and will be totally bedridden for 24 hours."

me: Damn. That's harsh.

me: I believe the doc would have been honest with me.
That's not the issue.
I just would have liked to know more so I could have better prepared for the pain.
I have had some terrible pain this time, right after the surgery and today.

me: I am doing better now than for most of the day.
This [pain] all started about 2 AM.

me: I should have called the doctor's office then, but I was trying to ride out the pain.
Stupid on my part.

B: Now you know why I have PTSD.
I'm glad the Tylenol helps.
Just be sure to take it with food.

B: Hopefully you'll sleep tonight.
I like a fool stayed up til 5:30 watching Pearl Harbor which I'd only seen
in pieces on tv.
Slept all day.
Guess I should fix lunch/dinner and take the garbage out.

B: Oh yeah, it's only Saturday!

me: Hey, as my stepdad used to say, every day is Saturday when you're retired.

- - - - - 

 

And so I had taken that bit of cheer as my exit cue from the phone.

I am so grateful to Peggy Byck, my General Practioner so many years ago, for an excellent insight she gave me about doctors.

They're just people, too, doing the best they can with the information at hand.

She explained that most people who come in with an ailment fall into several categories.

The first category: the patient has something which the GP can diagnose, as the symptoms follow set patterns and test results directly correlate to a specific, treatable, malady.

The GP then prescribes the needed medicines to cure the problem and patient is happy.

The second category: the patient has something which the GP cannot directly diagnose, as the symptoms are not part of any regular disease; however, the GP can determine which specialist should be used to identify the problem.

The GP then refers the patient to a specialist.

The specialist then checks the patient's symptoms to see if a set pattern emerges, using test results to directly correlate the pattern to a specific, treatable, malady.

The specialist then prescribes the needed medicines, and/or performs the necessary surgery to cure the problem and the patient is happy.

The third category: the patient has something which the GP cannot directly diagnose and may even have to use their best judgement to recommend a specialist.

The GP then refers the patient to a specialist.

The specialist checks the patient's symptoms but no set pattern can be determined and test results are inconclusive, which may indicate that a different specialist is needed, or may indicate that a team of different specialists is needed, as the malady may be rare.

I understood.

Now, I tend to view doctors as the people they are: highly trained professionals with concentrations in niche areas.

One wouldn't expect someone with a doctorate in history to teach organic chemistry.

Nor would one expect a foreign car mechanic to repair the city's water purification plant.

We each of us have our own specialties, right?

We just need to bear that in mind and stop expecting other people to be mind readers and wranglers of miracles.

One last thing: when your doctor asks questions, be honest.

They're just trying to help you be the best you can be.

banksy, women of different faiths, and the ventures

So, what do all of those have in common?

They were movies I watched for free, online!

"Banksy And The Rise Of Outlaw Art" was an offering from AARP in their MFG (Movies For Grownups) series.

The film began with probably one of the graphic artist's most famous pranks: the 2018 shredding of his "Girl With Red Balloon" painting after its auction at Sotheby's.

The frame had been rigged, you see, and as soon as the sale was official, the painting began feeding out the bottom, reduced to thin paper ribbons.

Remarkable... though I doubt the buyer would agree.

And just who was Banksy anyway?

All that can be said for sure is he was a Caucasian guy who grew up in Bristol, England; he was careful to wear a mask to hide his identity, as he knew full well when he began his work in the 90's that he could be arrested for defacing property.

The movie included an analysis of "Style Wars", a documentary about graffiti, hiphop, and rap, and break dancing, leading to that art, music, and moves being linked together as though related, even though they were quite separate and not practiced by the same artists.

One quote resonated: "As if the oppressor was never a child, as if heroin was never a flower."

Beauty and innocence abound; it's all about perspective.

That was back on the 16th of the month.

Tonight, on the eve of the catheter ablation to hopefully slow my racing heart, I took on another MFG from AARP, this time about a musical duo that became a foursome.

Bob Bogle and Don Wilson were "The Ventures: Stars On Guitars", two guys who helped promote the use of that instrument by budding musicians, even helping to design affordable versions and putting out records to help teach its use.

Their true skill was being able to play any type of music by just rearranging some chords.

For instance, in 1964 they took the country sound of Chet Atkins' version of "Walk, Don't Run" (which was originally a jazz song) into a surfer's tune for riding waves... and landed in the Top Ten!

However, as skilled as they were, their true calling was to encourage others, leading to them becoming known as "The Band That Launched A Thousand Bands" and making them one of the most prolific instrumental bands of all time.

Honestly, when I read the movie's title, I had wondered who they were.

However, as more of their music was featured I realized I was familiar with their sound, just not with their name, as they were a musician's band, not a dancer's band.

That certainly explains why I didn't recognize their name!

Good movie, as was "Stranger/Sister" two days ago, which was presented as an interfaith event during Women's History Month.

Presented by Mickve Israel, Masjid Jihad, and Asbury Memorial Church, the documentary was about a group called Salaam Shalom, formed of equal numbers of Muslim and Jewish women in search of a rapport and better understanding of their similarities as opposed to focus on their differences.

What I liked most was the refusal of the women to get dragged into political discourse; this 12-year-old group is all about helping each other in living their best lives, not debates about Palestine and Israel..

Good for them!

Best quote: "Pray as if everything depends on God, act as if everything depends on you."

Amen to that!

yowsah! there's a bug in my eye!

Yes, I realize that a creature like that isn't really living in my eye...

at least, I certainly have myself convinced of the improbability that a bug that huge might actually be present in my right eye...

but isn't that what it looks like?

So, just what are we looking at here?

For starters, the retina itself is that bright white line. 

The fuzzy bit of peaked and fraying carpet above it is the vitreous layer.

This is the retinal scan of an eye threatening to lose its sight. 

Conversely, this is the retinal scan of an eye in excellent health.

Notice, please, that the vitreous layer makes two soft, mounded, hills above the retina.

It looks rather like a well-made bed, with the pillows neatly in place and smooth.

That's because this is the retinal scan of my left eye, the one that has behaved so well over the years, the one my brain listens to when I'm looking at anything.

That's because it doesn't have two blind spots like the right eye does.

My sincere thanks to Dr. Smith at the Savannah VA Center for allowing me to take these photos.

See you in December, when it's time for my Christmas glasses!

Now to wait until time for my appointment with Elizabeth Carley of the MOVE! program.

Hopefully I can resume my efforts with weight loss after I've recovered from the ablation surgery on Thursday.

Gotta stay positive!

(smile!)

awesome, opossum!

When I spotted John Donaghy's painting back in January, I had not taken a photo of it, even though it tickled me.

Perhaps it was partly because that was my first trip to that part of MOAS and I had my own theme I was pursuing at the time?

Most likely.

However, when I went back to the Cici and Hyatt building in February, I was taken by the flamingo painting...

which was catecorner to this homely creature, with its leather ears and rat tail...

so I had snapped it, too, planning to show it to the bfe to share a laugh.

That had not yet happened, until today.

He's been proclaimed a "jolly good fellow of diversity" - well, that's my title, not the official one at GaSoU - and it's been a more serious task than a fun one.

So, to distract him a bit, I'd texted the photo, writing "From a gallery in Florida. Thought you would enjoy!"

Honestly, I had not expected a reply.

I'd just wanted to make him smile, right?

And yet, two hours later, we were in a textversation!

him: Ahhh, that's very cute!

me: Awesome possum!

him: Ha ha$. Yeah! I may have to use this image to practice painting an opossum!

me: Very good! I saw it in Daytona, at the museum i so enjoy. This critter made me smile and think of you rhyming it with awesome. Hahaha!

him: Very nice! Whatcha up to this evening? You chilling out or got plans?

me: Nothing tonight. About to see The Lost City with Carolyn at the cinema on Stephenson. Reminds me of Romancing The Stone!

him: I saw that at the drive in! Romancing the Stone, that is!

me: Absolutely loved it!

him: I hardly remember it! Maybe I should revisit it.

me: This new Sandra Bullock movie is similar, but lots of differences to perk it up. Already saw it yesterday!

him: It's that good?!?!?

me: It's a hopeful romantic movie, too. That's my jam! Plus, lots of adventure and laughs!

me: Most def my jam!

him: Well, tonight I *think* I am going to watch Eraserhead... I have heard so much about it but have never seen it.

me: It's been a while since I watched that, lots of yelling as I recall.

him: Good to know since I will listen with headphones!

me: Mind those eardrums! Maybe only wear one headphone! 

me: Or place them on the temporal bone.

him: You are telling me! I gotta keep my ears and my eyes! 

him: Can't be listening to Led Zep at 11.

me: Nor anything else! Say what??

him: Huh? Did you say something?

me: Lol!

 

And off I go, to do what I said I was doing!

(smile!)

modern dinosaurs and mileage

There it is, long neck extended as it meanders down the road, hot tar under its heavy tread.

That beast, as well as a smaller, much faster creature that likes to push the tar around, plus a few other lumbering relatives of the prehistoric ilk, have been out there in front of my house every day this week.

Seriously.

Fortunately, they don't start making racket until after 10 AM, as a rule, so that's workable for retirees.

(smile!)

I finally had to take a break from the noise of their foraging.

Off I went to "The Lost City", hoping, hoping, hoping it would be the movie I hoped it would be... and it was!!!

There were even some obvious ties to "Romancing The Stone", but with more than enough new material to make it stand on its own merits!

Honestly, I very nearly watched it again!

Then, when I was back to my car, thoughts of mileage popped into my head.

So, I looked at the odometer:

2 2 2 5 5 5

Well, isn't that cool?!

Right place, right time!

(smile!)

first-ever SJCAF!

And, now, it has come to an end, on a rainy Thursday afternoon.

I missed the very start of it, but that's because the newsletter had not arrived in time.

(Thanks, Adam, for keeping me on the newsletter mailing list all these years!)

By the time the Savannah Jewish Educational Alliance news arrived, it was already March 8th and the Savannah Jewish Cultural Arts Festival was beginning its second week!

I had immediately contacted mi amiga Barbara, thinking that surely Sandy had told her.

Nope, Boo didn't have a clue!

As good fortune would have it, one of the movies was playing that very night.

Even better, the student she was to tutor that evening had canceled on her.

Would I like for her to pick me up and take me to the JEA for the film?

Why, yes, very much so!

And off we had gone to "Greener Pastures"!

I know, it sounds like some idyllic romp in the country...

but, that's not it at all.

A widower is living in a state-run senior center, after losing his pension to employer mismanagement of the fund, and also losing his house.

But his legal-eagle daughter-in-law starts a seed in his mind: sell the state-allotted marijuana to the public, then take the money to buy back his house.

He even gets others who are 75+ to chip in their free packages of cannabis and soon has a smokin' hot business!

Well, until a rowdy cop sniffs them out!

Hahahaha! Hahaha!

(Like those puns? I couldn't resist!)

She and I had both liked it very much, and we had agreed: this was not a film that would have been shown in the Savannah Jewish Film Festivals of past years.

Then again, that's not what the JEA was presenting for 2022.

For their first SJCAF, films were only part of the entertainment!

The comedy show, some cooking classes, a concert, some meals: all played a role, along with the films, to entertain, to educate, and to enlighten.

Barbara and I agreed to meet for the Thursday afternoon matinee.

This time, I drove myself, as I wanted to be there for the noon30 lunch - salmon, potatoes, and sauteed asparagus! 

I was the only local at a table full of transplants, mostly from Chicago, so the chat was mostly about real estate. 

Along with the conversation, there was a very nice salad, plus apple strudel for dessert!

The reason for the German pastry became obvious at movie time... "Schönes Schlamassel", was that day's screening, and the German title translates to "A Fine Mess"... and so it was!

He loves her, but she only loves guys who are Jewish, mostly due to misplaced guilt from something her family had done during WWII, so he pretends to be Jewish.

Meanwhile, his friend loves her friend, but she loves a married man who has been stringing her along for years.

It's all fun and games until someone gets pregnant!

Yes, indeed, quite a fine mess!

Barbara had enjoyed that one, too!

She only made it to one more with me, on the 15th.

(That was another Tuesday, as it happens, so that tutoring job has issues.)

This movie was one of the few with a familiar name in it: Ed Asner!

In "Tiger Within", he was a Holocaust survivor who stumbles upon a homeless teen with a swastika on the back of her jacket.

He had just visited his wife's grave and, for her sake, he decided to try to help the girl.

Good movie, but the most surprising aspect was the discovery that punk rock has made a comeback, after forty years gone!

Amazing!

The lemon chicken dinner before the screening was pretty amazing, too!

(smile!)

So, there was a brief hiatus while St. Patrick's Day took over the rest of the week.

It would be another Tuesday before another dinner and movie.

But I didn't go alone!

The physicist came along with me!

And we dined on New York-style deli sandwiches (meaning rye bread, a mound of corned beef, shaved lettuce, mustard, and dill pickle spears), homemade potato chips, a cucumber-tomato salad, and chocolate chip cookies - my treat!

The we watched an art-house movie, featuring seven or eight characters that sang about their interaction with the Jew who broke the banks in 2008.

"A Kaddish For Bernie Madoff" was the filmed version of the musical the artist had been performing for about five years at the time, based on her artist residency on Wall Street during that tumultuous time.

Why had she been so taken with the story?

The man looked like her father, with his kind eyes.

It was just that simple: a Jew who looked like he could be related to her, also a Jew, and who had preyed on Jews.

And after the movie, after the artist had gotten the requisite number (ten) of fellow artists to sing kaddish with her for the excommunication of this man who had disgraced his race, after the credits began to roll, something different happened.

No one clapped.

Not one single person.

Nor did folks linger behind to talk a little after the movie.

That was definitely something different.

The bfe and I talked about it in the car, and I impressed upon him how different these films were from the usual fare at these particular film festivals.

Then, again, this isn't the SJFF; it's the inaugural SJCAF.

Perhaps, in order to show a wider scope of Jewish life - the cannabis-smoking pensioners, the shiksa dating only Jews, the swastika-wearing punk rocker, and this musical centered on a money-grubbing Jew - the name change of the festival was needed.

I know it ended back on an even keel with the old format.

(Trust me, that's an inside joke; you'll have to watch the film.)

"1618" answered the question about the lack of Jewish culture in Portugal.

Set in a harbor town in the northern part of that country, it showed that those who were still Jewish by birth (i.e., born of Jewish mothers) were now "new Christians", being careful to hide any vestiges of their heritage.

Then a representative of the Pope comes to town, seeking to rid it of any people who were still keeping their Jewish names and driving a wedge between the tradespeople and the mayor, as well as the Catholic church.

I didn't know anyone except Lonnie this time around.

Matinee movies don't work for working folks!

But that meant I had another good lunch - always such a very good deal at just $7!

This time, it was meatloaf that would have rivaled my velvety version, with a most generous serving of three pieces!

Yes, I ate every one of them, too!

I ate all of the roasted potatoes, as well, and each and every green bean!

How wonderful to have a meal I didn't make!

Plus, thanks to Vera and Jim and Penny, I was able to trot out the story of my name, as well as give a plug for travel to Rome.

(smile!)

That was while we all waited to see what dessert was forthcoming.

Cookies? Cake? Pastry?

None of those baked goods.

Fresh pineapple, fresh and tart oranges, fresh cantaloupe.... oh.

Good, but... not quite "wow".

Good meal and good company, though, so that's what mattered!

(smile!)

fixing damage from hurricane matthew

All day long, big machines have been convening in front of my house, tearing up the road, then pounding it back into place and recovering its surface until it's smooth once more.

It hasn't been smooth for almost six years.

That's how long it's been since Hurricane Matthew roared into town, accompanied by tornado action that felled five trees in a row in the park.

The roots of that great oak had caused the road to buckle as it fought to stay anchored, shattering the curb as well.

That curb is now shiny and white, having been replaced a few weeks ago, along with several other areas of damaged curbstone in this area.

When the physicist had brought me home last night, the crew was already working on the street there and had one lane roughed out.

I was talking to him about the wind damage from 2016 and pointed down toward some newly laid curbing on the park side, about three houses down from me.

"That's where the tornado took out five trees in a row," I told him, "ripping them up by the roots before smashing one into a house."

He looked absolutely shocked.

I think part of that might be from how slowly I move these days.

He had parked close to the JEA, so I could do my odd little walk: five paces, then change-step, five paces, then change-step.

I even explained that the change-step is an abbreviated pace, sometimes staying in place, and is used to keep a company together as they march in unison around a corner.

Yet another little loss adjustment on my part, as I deal with atrial fibrillation.

I'm so blessed to have him as my bfe.

He's been quite concerned about my health and has offered to bring groceries to me on his way home from the university.

He's even offered to pull my trash bins to the curb for me when I need that done!

I'm going to make sure I ask for his help with those, and with the shopping, too.

I really need to do better about letting those who love me help me.

I really do, and I'm going to try.

As Carolyn says, "just use baby steps, but keep going, and soon you'll be back to your strong, independent self!"

Yes, ma'am, I'll do my best, control freak that I am.

(smile!)