Why We Continue

‘Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry’. Jane Hirshfield:

“There is reason to fear: a great poem, like a great love, challenges our solitude, our conceptions, the very ground of being. Encountering such a poem, we tremble a little as we enter its gates. But the end, as in love, is to know and feel what could not be known or felt by any path less demanding.”      p 125

She Just Changes Her Mind

One of the songs Kristen turned  (link is to Youtube video) me on to was Billy Joel's  She's Always A Woman to Me.

The operative lyric was "She never gives in she just changes her mind."

Thus, the incredible improvement that resulted from the transradial angioplasty, plus the drugs, prompted a change of mind; I decided to go ahead with the bypass surgery needed to open the two blocked arteries.

Michelle (Double El) and her brother Steve came down to Tucson for the angioplasty, but it was a long drive and required a lot of coordination on Michelle's part to get coverage for all her cat clients. The longer I've been away from Albuquerque the more I've come to hate it, but my experience at St. Mary's Hospital Emergency Room and the mixed reviews of the Tucson Medical Center were enough help me see how much easier it'd be for all concerned if I went back for the few days it'll take to get the job done.

The transition from having decided to throw-in-the-towel to "continuing" has been one of the most bizarre experiences in a long time. A few days ago I couldn't walk acrosst the Safeway parking lot without stopping several times to get my breath. Yesterday I was able to drive 70 miles (20 more than my typical limit of around 50 for the past two years), unload the car etc. without even having to stop for a rest. It's a whole diff world!

The question that continues to nag though is: What now? I feel like I've done nearly all there is to do, been all the places to see and really decided to do the surgery mainly because there're a couple of relationships that are still growing. But, Vunce again, der 'satiable curtiosity ist revived.

Every Man For Himself.....in the U.S. of A.

Just out of curiosity I called one of the gun shops in Tucson. It was near closing and the guy that answered sounded exhausted. He said they were swampED.

WHY in this country are we holing up, afraid, instead of coming together as a nation to help each other?

We've succumbed to Big Brother. Do as you're told....and nobody'll get hurt.

A Change of Pace

Video

Priorities

I went down to the RV park yesterday to get a shower just in time to find them all scuttling away.

They pointed to the note on the office door that said it was closed except to current residents. I was told to take my five-dollar shower fee around back and put it through the slot in the door of the laundry room.

Standing there clutching a plastic grocery bag, I mentioned the Jelly Belly jelly beans I'd brought for them. The woman said, "We'll take those" and reached out her arm.

I guess maybe they too are short of t.p.; they didn't offer any.

Coronavirus Info -- 19, March

Brewed Journey -- one of the blogs in the lineup on the right side of mine -- posted a blog that has two links that might be of interest to some. I added a 3rd...the one to Dr. Rodriquez's linkedin profile.

For those who may not have the time or inclination to read the blogpost, herewith are the links....

This one (Covid Insights #4) is about contagion, transmission etc.

https://covid19-insights.squarespace.com/


This one is about the physician/blogger, Dr. William Rodriguez

https://covid19-insights.squarespace.com/about


And this is his Linkin profile

https://www.linkedin.com/in/billrodriguez19/


For those of you who think in these terms, you may note that Rodriguez is NOT one of the surnames listed on the Mayflower's passenger list.
http://mayflowerhistory.com/mayflower-passenger-list

Media Extravaganzas

Swine Flu (2009-2010) - The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates that swine flu infected nearly 61 million people in the United States and caused 12,469 deaths.


Avian Flu (2006) - No confirmed deaths in the West from the avian flu.


Mad Cow Disease (1993 -peak) - NO DEATHS - Strong evidence indicates that classic BSE has been transmitted to people primarily in the United Kingdom, causing a variant form of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (vCJD). In the United Kingdom, where over 1 million cattle may have been infected with classic BSE, a substantial species barrier appears to protect people from widespread illness. Since vCJD was first reported in 1996, a total of only 231 patients with this disease, including 3 secondary, blood transfusion-related cases, have been reported worldwide. The risk to human health from BSE in the United States is extremely low.

Oh yeah! Lest we forget...Y2K! OMG! (Thanks, Marie!)

WHY don't we hear about these things?

Alcohol-related Traffic Deaths (2017) Of the 10,874 people who died in alcohol-impaired-driving crashes in 2017, there were 6,618 drivers (61%) who had BACs (breath alcohol content) of .08 g/dL (grams/deci-liter) or higher. The remaining fatalities consisted of 3,075 motor vehicle occupants (28%) and 1,181 nonoccupants (11%). The distribution of fatalities in these crashes by role is shown in Table 1.

2016 - Of the 10,497 people who died in alcohol-impaired-driving crashes in 2016, there were 6,479 drivers (62%) who had BACs of .08 g/dL or higher. The remaining fatalities consisted of 3,070 motor vehicle occupants (29%) and 948 nonoccupants (9%). The distribution of fatalities in these crashes by role is shown in Table 1.

2015 - Of the 10,265 people who died in alcohol-impaired-driving crashes in 2015, there were 6,424 drivers(63%) who had BACs of .08 g/dL or higher. The remaining fatalities consisted of 2,908 motor vehicle occupants (28%) and 933 nonoccupants (9%). The distribution of fatalities in these crashes by role is shown in Table 1. (link is to a PDF that wants to download)

HPV - Depending on which website you access, there are somewhere around 80 to 100 strains of HPV of which several are recognized as "high-risk" for various forms of cancer. The CDC acknowledges that HPV is so common throughout the populous that it is beyond epidemic. Although the virus is purported to resolve within two years asymptomatically, I know of two people who have undergone treatment for cancer and/or are receiving treatment for a pre-cancerous condition. There is no diagnostic for males; they have developed a means of detecting the virus in women.

In addition, the CDC recommends all children approaching puberty and up to the age of 21 be vaccinated against the virus. (I've undertaken the anthropological study and have, for the last eight months, been asking people at random if they heard from their children's school nurse about the vaccine; none have.)

It is apparently of enough concern that it was mentioned in a one-sentence remark by Paul Stamets in Fantastic Fungi. He commented that a strain of mycelium may offer curative opportunities.

Only a Fool Won't Change His Mind...

....in the face of a good argument. I wish I'd recorded it.

After nearly 30 years of wrangling my Germanittude, she's come into her own. The bottom line was alot about not wanting to leave her and she not being done with me. And there are a few others out there with whom I share similar feelings.

I'll start looking into the transradial angioplasty (via the wrist) today. The angina continues to nag so we're not into the clear yet. But the attitude has shifted.

After Two Days of Rain

Morning's Light

Yeah, well, now that that's out of the way....Let's Dance!!

Terry Miles Youtube Channel

Ben Toury's website

Dr. K's Youtube Channel    Dr. K's wikipedia

Acoustic Milestone's Youtube Channel

In the E.R. at St. Mary's

Mayyyy be the last post, I don't knooooOOOOooow.

1965

SUNDAY
The shortness of breathe grew increasingly worse. I vomited...it was intense and uninhibited. I decided it was time to move closer to the pavement so someone could find me after it was over. I made it down to the "2nd tier" paved from whence one goes cross-country (off-pavement). It was too far to the 1st tier; I pulled off onto the shoulder, put the seat into its reclining position, and waited.

The pain kept intensifying until I was screaming -- full bore -- with each breath. As I writhed over the shift knobs, I had enough presence of mind to go inside and access the decades of accumulated rage and frustration at this stupid culture; a culture that put my first wife's ex-husband in a Tennessee State Penitentiary for four years for two joints and is now, at least in some states, delighting in the revenue of legalized use. And though I'm pleased at the treatment possibilities, after decades of demonizing psychedelics, the movie Fantastic Fungi is sweeping the nation to neutralize their hypocrisy. It's fascinating -- their exquisitely coordinated machinations -- as they gear up to rake in more billions providing prescriptive use for treatment of PTSD, anxiety, the embarrassment of psoriasis, a small penis/breasts and what all.


MONDAY
I awoke around 2:00 a.m. and was lying there thinking how the pain was so strong I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. I turned on the phone to see what time it was and was astonished to see it ring. It was Alan Rasmussen calling to check on me...at 3:00 a.m.

He met me at St. Mary's E.R. in Tucson where the EKG showed I was still in the throes of an Acute Miocardial Infarction (AMI). I was hustled into a bed, plugged with an I.V. (they didn't even ask) and after being told the offerings-of-the-day, got some nitroglycerine mit morphine.

Surmisaling I had a thrombosis, a blockage of one of the arteries, they were eager to do an angiogram (run a tube up your femoral - the one inside your thigh - artery to your heart). I declined. I was kinda hoping this would be the hash-settling event and besides, don't NOBODY get that close to Der Jewels except mit more friendlier intent!

After a couple of hours the pain subsided and I was getting bored so I checked out. Since I was leaving against medical advice, they couldn't prescribe anything.

Oh yeah, a little side incident occurred when one of the docs asked what I wuz gonna do and I mentioned a bottle of nitrogen I keep in my storage locker (it's used in home-brewing). He seemed to almost delight in exclaiming, "You're suicidal!" and informed me he had to tell the psychiatrist who would likely have me committed to their pysch ward and THERE they'd be able to do whatever they liked! HAH!

Fortunately, the psychiatrist was of more sound mind and hearing me immediately recant on my self-deliverance (commonly known as suicide), she gave absolution and I was free to go.

From: Poem Bouquet

http://poembouquet.blogspot.com/2020/03/lillian-morrison.html

NDE - Pre Heart Attack

I first noticed the angina a couple of years ago. As it became increasingly hard to ignore, I began to fantasize it would be a source of deliverance; that it'd culminate in a fatal episode.

At my annual physical in January, I asked my physician for an MRI in order to assess the aortic aneurysm discovered in the x-rays taken after the accident in December 2018. But the soonest appointment was in March; I didn't want to hang around Albuquerque that long.

As the angina and shortness of breathe increased over the months I grew increasingly ebullient. I've wrangled suicidal ideation since age 7 and now, at last, I could anticipate a "natural" means of exiting. Then came, on the 16th of last month, the Near-Death-Experience (NDE).

From beginning to end was about three hours, but the peak, a period of timelessness, I estimate to have been about an hour.

It started with an increasing shortness of breath that prompted me to spread my sleeping bag on the ground. At its peak I lay on my back, my entire body, except for the area of my sternum, numb. My hands had curled into claws; the muscles in my arms contracted bringing my forearms up slightly with my hands rotated toward me.

At one point, prior to full immobilization, I started to panic -- I imagined being permanently disabled  like this -- and attempted to get to my pistol. But it was too late. I managed to raise myself onto one elbow, but could get no farther. As I sank back a "voice" in my head said, "Don't be afraid, it'll be okay." "Oh Boy! This is gonna be good," I thought.

As the paralysis deepened, I transitioned through several phases. There was a period of sorrow at leaving my loved ones knowing that, even when not in immediate proximity, we feel and appreciate each others' "presence."

There was a phase in which I felt the need to "cover my ass" by asking forgiveness of the gods. I went down the list: Muhammad, Yahweh, Shakti, Vishnu, Wotan (Odin) and several others, including even Christ, assuring them I'd done my best in spite of, in retrospect, an occasional act of carelessness. (I reminded them I am German and never make mistakes) My Dad, a double agent in the second world war whose slightest misstep would've meant his life once said, "There's no such thing as an accident, just carelessness."

As full paralysis took hold, I could hear myself gasping for breath, but I was separated from my physical self and felt no discomfort. The sun was behind Phoebe (my car) and I could still see. The clouds, fairly high up and thin,  appeared to be racing by; I felt as if I were leaving my body; that it was merely a carrier for my consciousness and now I was done with it.

My sorrow at leaving my loved ones had dissipated into an acceptance of the ineffableness of melding into the infinite. Consciousness was drifting into a vaguery - a useless concept. But there was still enough to enjoy a sense of relief at being freed from it and a slight enthusiasm of anticipation.

Then, as the sun peeked around the upper edge of Phoebe's corner, it stopped. And in that split second I knew I was going to live. And the fury and joy that exploded into my awareness had me both violently despondent and gloriously happy.

And then the phone rang.

I managed to get up and crawl to the car. It was Kristen. Hearing my sobs, I was both furious and joyful, she, being a retired Ph.D. therapist, switched into professional mode and commanded, "BREATHE!"

A few moments later, after determining I was gonna continue (breathing) she, being in a risky (we're not "out" except to her husband) environment, hung up.

I sat for about 20 minutes and called Michelle. I'd emailed her before the paralysis took full hold with instructions for applying for my Social Security benefits, a list of folks to notify and other details to attend to after my death.

We talked for a few minutes but I didn't have the strength to continue. I sat for the next two hours, watching the ambivalence of a missed opportunity (to leave) and the realization of being given another chance.

Death Don't Have No Mercy

Reverend Gary Davis

Y'know death don't have no mercy in this land
Death don't have no mercy in this land, in this land
Come to your house, you know he don't take long
Look in bed this morning, children find your mother gone.

I said death don't have no mercy in this land.
Death will leave you standing and crying in this land,
Death will leave you standing and crying in this land, in this land, yeah!

Whoa! come to your house, why' know he don't stay long,
Why' look in bed this morning,
Children you find that your brothers and sisters are gone.
I said death don't have no mercy in this land.

Death will go in any family in this land.
Death will go in any family in this land.
Come to your house, you know he don't take long.
Look in the bed on the morning, children find that your family's gone.

I said death don't have no mercy in this land.
Death will leave you standing and crying in this land,
In this land. whoa! come to your house,
Why' know it don't stay long, why' look in bed this morning,
Children find that your brothers and sisters are gone.

I said death don't, death don't have no mercy in this land.

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Gary Davis

Death Don't Have No Mercy lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing

Here's a link to Rev Gary Davis' performance (on Youtube).

Morning Tableau

My beloved coffee cup, the small, white porcelain type used in diners in the fifties, fell onto the rocks and broke. The herring jar is filling in during the interim. You can see a small bit of the Imusa Stove Top Espresso Maker behind the jar.

In the late afternoon I thought to do a small amount of LSD; perhaps I'd be able to discern the source of the angina. It was too small a dose (I'm still experimenting), but I enjoyed a pleasant evening listening to music. There were a few old favorites, Wooden Ships by Jefferson Airplane (I love the creaking at the beginning), but much was Amy Turk, harpist.

Safe Home

Drink To the Dead

Her Fugue in D Minor is extraordinary, as is her Claire de Lune.

 Muse's (not sure if they're "metal") Plug In Baby, and others, are also lovely.




Jim Cooper was the first and only person I've seen on foot in the week I've been here. I was so astonished I accosted him to hear his story. He said he's always enjoyed walking, as did his wife, but her health now keeps her from it.

He said March is the best month for wildflowers in Arizona; from Canmore, just east of Banff, his wife had grown tired of the winters there so they now live on Vancouver Island.

It was fun recalling my drive up the Trunk Road on the east side of the Rockies and resupplying in Canmore. I lucked out when I contacted the Canadian Department of Tourism about driving to Palmer, Alaska in 2010. Hearing of my aesthetic, the fellow told of a dirt road that runs up the east side of the Rockies....the Trunk Road. There were days, I took over a week getting to Canmore, when I saw only one or two other vehicles. But lots of trees (Ugh!). But the QUIET!!!! I can't commend it enough...but it is "The Wilds," so be prepared.

It feels as if my window, which wasn't really dirty to begin with, has been "freshened." There's a clarity that enabled me to notice the little purple flowers (lpfs) that were so profuse yesterday when Jim stopped by, are there but closed up, something I guess they do for the night.

Morning Vignette

The LPFs opened up with the morning sun. It's a purple profusion non-pareil!

The Twins & Mt Wrightson Camp

The Tubac Market used to offer some exotic foods. It's now 3/4 a wine store. But they have Rainbow Eggs (multi-colored), from Rio Rico, a nearby community.

In the parking lot....

Not a speck of dust. A detailer I met on the Moki Dugway (on his way to visit family from a film-shoot where they'd flown everyone in from Hollywood) told me it doesn't matter what kind of car you drive in California, it matters how shiney it is.

I like to think Phoebe's smaller dimensions enable us to squeak through those places her twin here couldn't.

There's room out here though....

VIDEO!!

Aloysius & They Got Me Under Pressure

It was July of 2017 that Aloysius said, "Hey! Over here!" from next to the dumpster behind the local theater in Murphys, California. (Read his history here.)

Much like The Velveteen Rabbit, his stuffing is coming out and his paint is peeling, but he's still there by the lap-pool, gazing over the now-verdant fields...to see what unfolds.

I have an appointment with a good German-named woman, Mary Ruehl, at Pima Heart tomorrow. It's at the point where getting up to go to the bathroom gets me panting....and not in a good way. I had thought to just let it takes it's course, but they, the women, have "got me under pressure" - ZZ Top.

She likes wearin' lipstick, she likes French cuisine
But she won't let me use my passion unless it's in a limousine

She got me under pressure,
She got me under pressure

She likes the art museum, she don't like Pavlov's dog
She fun at the mind museum, she likes it in a London fog
She don't like other women, she likes whips and chains
She likes cocaine and flippin' out with great Danes
She's about all I can handle, it's too much for my brain

It's got me under pressure
It's got me under pressure

I'm gonna give her a message
Here's what I'm gonna say
"It's all over"
She might get out a nightstick
And hurt me real real bad
By the roadside in a ditch

It's got me under pressure
It's got me under pressure

It's got me under pressure
It's got me under pressure

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Billy Gibbons / Dusty Hill / Frank Beard

Got Me Under Pressure lyrics © BMG Rights Management

This is the 777th post.

Madera Canyon

Alan drove Susan & I, in Susan's camry, up to Madera Canyon. We saw a huge herd of turkeys, bunches of finches, a hummingbird, several woodpeckers and a coatimundi named Al. The weather forecast was for rain, but other than an occasional dark cloud, it never even came close.

The angina continues to worsen.

Mt. Wrightson Wilderness

It irks me that they allow cattle grazing in wilderness. I throw rocks at 'em tuh keep 'em from leaving their shit near camp. As you know, where there's shit, there're flies...or soon will be.
It's a magnificent view! The road ends at a trailhead where in addition to hikers and mountain bikes, dogs are welcome. There's a lot of traffic.

But I've been getting "revenge" by flagging down the homeward-bound and proselytizing for Western Watersheds Project. I've been surprised by how many have been receptive. Hopefully, they'll send money.

This Spring Chicken (ocotillo) is starting to fluff out (put on leaves) ahead of all the others. But the tall folk are gearing up; they're startin' tuh put on buds.

You can see Whipple Observatory on the peak near Phoebe's upper right edge. I think that's Pete Mountain that the upper "bit" of the ocotillo is lying acrosst.

Whipple has an interesting history. It seems Fred Lawrence Whipple (died 2004, age 97) thought, sometime in the 1930s, the Smithsonian really needed a bona-fide astronomical installation i.e., a telescope. He apparently had the connections. But you may wanna research it further. The foregoing was from memory...a fastly-failing resource.