I spy

Weaving this afternoon, I glanced over at one of the cubbies and saw the missing bag of towel labels. I knew I had a partial bag on hand, but could not locate it in one of my feeble searches. This is good news; I only need to order cards now. I thought I would be ordering both, which is a pricey undertaking. Not to mention, I can never remember the name of my label vendor.

Bending is a problem, which limited my search. It's also limited my weaving. One of my treadle pins worked loose and there is no longer any way I can repair that save getting on the floor. That is way outside my ability set. Fortunately one of the housekeeping staff got down and slipped it back in.

Weaving the other day, I noticed a nut on the floor. Spying around, I saw it is from the treadle assembly. Again, won't be me getting down there. Fortunately, Beth is coming next week and she already knows replacing the nut is on her list. Now to hope the bolt doesn't fall through, though at least it cannot go far; the floor will stop it. Then I will be responsible for tracking the washer. Oh, maintenance!

As for my personal maintenance status, the new strength of buprenorphine helps, though there is little doubt in my mind I will be asking for the next level at my next visit, early in August. It remains quite painful to stand up, like from the toilet, as well as any chair. Most of all, I hate pulling up pants; my arms ache. But, I will get to the other side of this. Hanging around is a pain.

Precious little is going on. Dog days of summer, you know. I hope you all are safe from the weather.

I do have occasional pleasure in seeing the granddaughters of one resident. The children visit once or twice a month, and stay for supper. I think it is a highlight of the week when they come, if for no more than their grandma.

The girls are what I always called Irish twins, though I think they are far from Irish. They were born in the same year, the requisite number of months apart. 

I'm so grateful

Last summer I set about plumbing the political depths of people aroud me, for the purpose of organizing some troups to the cause. In this big sea of fellow old faces I was encouraged by finally falling into a compatible dining table group. I got a kick in the butt from a fellow oldster. We were in line for dinner and I brought up a political topic. "Oh, I don't vote!" I was informed. "They're all crooks!"

"If you don't vote, you don't count," I replied. My standard put-down. "Oh, I know that." she reponded.

There still was time to register for the November election then, so I decided to do something. I enlisted our new activities director, who knows everyone and who is a vocal liberal, to put up posters encouraging voter registration and giving registrations to interested people. They must be returned by mail, but old folks tend to have stamps.

Then I tackled my table on several state issues that seemed (and were) hopeless, but consitituent opinions needed recording. I started with a comment on the campus protests against Palestinian violence.

"Do you think they do any good?" asked timid Marcia, a retired nurse. I went into a discourse on the Vietnam protests long ago, and later on campus protests against some administration policies. I explained how we linked arms and blocked Euclid Avenue running through the center of campus. "Hey! Hey! LBJ! How many boys did you kill today?"

There was a lively discourse around the table that night and most every night since. Plenty of organizing has been planned and implemented. At the end of supper that night Marcia stopped me and said "I am so grateful to know a real protester from back then!"

More personal stories have been shared around the table since then. One night we talked about international travel. Marcia has been to Africa and Latin America. "What did you see!" She had no idea. She'd spent several months administering vaccines for smallpox and measles, sleeping between shifts.

I am so grateful to know a humanitarian health care provider. I am so grateful to know all of you, who have been so kind in this trying time. Thank you. I am working with my doctor to get past this, and will succeed. I'm about to go weave another bobbin of olive.

Hello

 I'm here to let you know I'm here. Finally I hope I am on the proper path. I've begun week three of a four week protocol. It is an abject failure, which is not all bad. It is a quantifiable result and shows a direction to a better end.

For pain relief I am back on buprenorphine, which is the chemical name of the Belbuca I used to take. This time I'm using a transdermal system, a patch. I began this drug and method years ago. It became rapidly apparent my skin could not tolerate the patch adhesive and my pain doctor switched me to Belbuca, a sublingual method.

The sublingual worked beautifully, it's only drawback, the cost. In the beginning and for years I could afford it. I had a job. When I did retire, I had savings. My drug copays were managable, even after I retired ten years ago.

But the perfect storm of Covid, lockdown, the opiod scandle, moving house and rising costs made Belbuca impossible. My pain doctor was forty five minutes away, impossible when I no longer had a car, and cost climbed to a $300 a month copay, more than I could afford.

My year of ibuprohpen has become a failure. My personal opinion is I did not augment my pain by quitting Belbuca. I am a classic chronic pain syndrome patient and as additional bones and vertebrae disintigrate, pain increases. So I am back to my original pain management doctor and buprenorphine patches. $13 per month at my lowest dose. It will increase as the dose increases, but probably will remaine "reasonable".

I am at the lowest dose, and it is not effective. Every three weeks it can be increased. That will be next week. I believe I am on a better path, and eventually will be as good as a year ago.

In the meantime, I miss living. In the last six months I have finished one color of towels. Just off the loom last week and on the web today, purple. I've increased the price to $34, the same as most woven towels my size on the internet today. The chief difference is they charge additional postage and I include postage in that $34. It's a charge I hate, and I'm sure you do too. Of course I think mine are better! I explain all that on my web page.

I don't expect to have more towels soon, and my thread is getting way down.

Lavendar, grey, lime, scarlet, peacock. What do you suggest? This may be the last rosepath towel; it's time to find a new pattern with an affinity for water and other things that need soaking up.

That pretty much summarizes my last several months. I remain the in-house organizer. Old folks make a fine cadre of rear guard. We keep elected officials' phones busy and we buy porta-potties for events. Use your rights to prove you have them!

My solution

I've been diagnosed with chronic pain for twenty odd years. It began small and then kept adding on through the years. 

First that crushed disc at C3 and a degenerated hip. Had those repaired. Then lumbar stenosis and L1 crushed in a stupid accident. Physical therapy and a brace for a long time.

Then the litany of minor things, like rheumatoid and osteoarthritis. No cure there. Left shoulder replacement. Then a tibia fracture, couple of years later my femur. Add to all this, acquired leg length discrepancy, now about an inch. Every step hurts my back.

I consumed a lot of ibuprophen and went to physical therapy. Eventually I cycled through rheumatology and on to pain management. Pain management began about ten years ago.

I started with Lyrica and then a "mild" opiod. I researched the bejammers out of the latter before I agreed. I was prescribed Belbuca, "the drug we prescribe for withdrawal from addictive opiods".

For the first time in a long time my back was manageable, my arms, legs and hands quit hurting. I took up weaving again because I could catch and throw a shuttle. Life was just fine.

I moved from my township in Summit County in 2022, to this senior complex in Portage County. I drove the twenty or so minutes back to my Summit County doctors until I decided the car was becoming too expensive. I traded out all my old doctors for doctors I could access from my new residence.

My first pain problem was that not one of the new doctors would prescribe Lyrica. Either they were not authorized or just would not. I was referred to at least four new pain practitioners, none of whom prescribed pain medications. I could explain their reasoning but don't care to. It basically came down to what I call "old people medicine."

And I no longer have Belbuca to keep me moving. I was still seeing my old pain management practice, but the price of Belbuca was rising exponentially. By 2023 my co-pay was $300 a month. Way out of my ballpark. The pain folks had no alternative. So, I quit.

It wasn't the worst thing I've ever been through, but it did remind me of all the reasons I always refused prescribed pain meds. If you take them you must withdraw if you stop. So, I spent a sleepless week. But that was a couple of years ago.

I went back to my ibuprophen habit. 400 mg in the morning, 400 at night. When doctors complained and had no alternative I said "Deal with it". The same thing I told my primary years ago, when she thought I should quit butter. "I eat butter. Deal with it."

Sadly, my self prescribed doseage no longer works. I seldom sleep the night. I have not seriously thrown a shuttle in more than six months. I've switched from my walker to my rollator so I can sit down on my way to anywhere.

When I was young I occasionally heard my father say "I've dug a hole and pulled it in behind me." I feel like I've done that myself, and I like it less and less. 

I've arranged to get a new shoe lift to ease walking a bit. I've had them in the past and hated how inefficient they are. But my daughter located a supplier who purports to make a more flexible lift, so I'll give it a try.

And, I've make an appointment to see a new rheumatologist. Maybe I'll find some help. That appointment isn't until July. In the meantime, I'm avoiding typing. I'm looking forward to being done with this confession. My hands hurt, my arms, my shoulders, my back. It's such bullshit.

Long story short, I'm mostly off posting. I'm still at the head of the activist rolls, letting my fellow senior anarchists know what boycott is in effect and what issues need letters. Would you believe my MAGA state government is trying to move libraries from independent funding to a line item in the state budget. Bastards. When the federal funds to Ohio are gone so is Peninsula's library.

All is not gloom, however. It is spring, snow nothwithstanding. The daffs are up, the birds are back. From a window I can see through at supper there are a lot of hawks riding the air currents. 

On my way to breakfast I generally stop and rest at the big windows overlooking a court yard. It's where I can see the white cat, Happy, if he's soaking up rays in his window. But this week a hawk landed on the retaining wall outside Happy's window.

A plethora of sparrows live in the row of arborvitae past the wall. I've seen several hundred shoot out of the row of arborvitae, like a curtain of birds. Suddenly the hawk dived into the greenery and came out with his breakfast. I think it's a Coopers Hawk. He's been here before and a hall mate took this picture.

 

PSA's

The location for recycling prescription bottles is here in Ohio, a little south of me, in Dover, Ohio. Dover is a bucolic little town, so typical of the Connecticut Western Reserve (though the Reserve may not have extended to what became Tuscarawas County).

For due diligence, I googled "recycle prescription bottles", in the event there are more around the country. Only the Tuscarawas service was returned. It is through the Matthew 25 Ministries. That is the pill bottle address. Here is the site of the ministry: https://m25m.org/

They accept over the counter plastic bottles, too. Aspirin, supplements, all those pesky bottles that I'm sure are not recycled. 

Moving right along, here are the roll brim hat instructions. I have not found out how to get pictures back into the instructions. The yarn is wool, worsted weight (4 ply), but any worsted weight will do.

ROLL BRIM HAT

The pattern is for adult small, medium and large.  The top of the hat is decreased in six sections, or gores, which produces a very attractive swirl.  This kind of decreasing is a simple formula.  The number of gores must divide evenly into the original number of stitches.  When decreasing, knit together the last two stitches in the gore.  It can be helpful to place markers.  At the end of the pattern I have included number of stitches to cast on and the number of stitches in the gore sections to make the hat for infants and children.

 To fit sizes:  Small (20”), Medium (21 ¼”), Large (22 ½”).  These sizes are fairly nominal; if the hat is knit in wool, which is very forgiving, a small will also fit a medium.

 Materials:  1 skein, 110 yards, Ewe Tree DK to Worsted weight

16” circular #6, 1 set #6 DP needles

 Gauge:  4.5 sts = 1”

 Instructions:

With 16” circular needle, cast on 90 (96, 102)sts.  Join.  Place marker for beginning of round.

Work in stockinette stitch (knit every round) for 6”.

Decrease top as follows:  (if necessary, place a marker after every decrease to denote gore section)

 Round 1: K13(14, 15), K2tog.  Repeat to end.

Round 2: K

Round 3: K12(13,14), K2tog.  Repeat to end.

Round 4:  K

Round 5: K11(12,13), K2tog.  Repeat to end.

Round 6:  K

 Continue in this manner until 48 sts remain, then decrease every round until 6 sts remain.  Break yarn, draw through the 6 sts, pull to inside through the center top.  Work in ends.

 To make this hat in smaller sizes:

                                                Infant              3 to 6 years      7 to 10 years    11 to 15 years

 

Cast on                                    66                    72                    78                    84

 Knit 5 to 6 inches

 Stitches in gore                       9                     10                    11                    12