[me] Today I brought a letter from my friendly new doctor back into the Dockinnabocks clinic to prove that I should be authorized for my new job, as my hypertension, while not yet under control, is being treated. Today the Dockinnabocks lobby was aurally dominated by the television, alternating between cooking demonstrations, selling spices, and Dr. Oz spots, all at top volume and impossible to tune out.
I was motivated to tune out the television, because I was again on trial to lower my blood pressure. Bringing in my letter was not sufficient; the doctor here wanted to measure my blood pressure for herself to prove that it was under control. I waited for the other patients ahead of me to be seen and sat meditating on prayers and regulating my breathing, trying to lower my blood pressure and feeling very unsuccessful. The time was approximately 11 AM.
About 11:15 I was called back into Examination Room # 1, where the MA inquired if I was here for a DOT examination. I summarized how I had failed the physical examination for work, and that I was under a doctor's care for hypertension, and that this MD wished to check my blood pressure. The MA checked my blood pressure, which I could immediately feel rise due to the anxiety of having it checked. "I can't hear it. I have to have someone else try."
This MA left the room.
In about five or ten minutes, another MA entered the room, looked at my chart, and asked if I was here for a DOT examination, and, keeping my voice nice and calm, I quietly gave her the same explanation of why I was there. She took my blood pressure, which I could feel rise, due to the anxiety of having it taken. She looked at me. "It's 150/104." My heart sank. In the Friendly office an hour before it had been 150/86--not stellar, but not outrageous. Here we go. I was informed that the doctor would wish to come in to talk to me, and to wait right here.
By this time it was about 11:45 AM.
I remained on the examination table, legs dangling, as I felt that it would be counter-productive to sit in the chair and then leap back to the exam table as soon as the doctor came in. I had failed to have my case switched to a friendlier doctor, and was determined to stay calm and civil no matter what happened. I said prayers and regulated my breathing and stared at the poster on the wall, the only legible reading material, advocating shingles vaccination.
I slipped my shoes off and crossed my legs on the table, regulating my breathing.
I leaned back against the wall. I reflected on the irony of being able to raise my blood pressure at any time, but being unable to lower it by either breathing, or meditating, or thinking pleasant thoughts, or by imagining that I could lower it. I dangled my legs again. I wondered what would happen if I decided to just lay down with my head on the pillow. I crossed my legs. I scooched back so my back was supported.
It was 12:00 noon. I began to listen to the conversations out in the hall. "Where is the person in Room 2?" "Isn't she there?" "No, she's gone." "Is she really gone?" "I think she left because of the long wait time." "Did she really leave?" "We need to be able to use the room for someone else." "She left because of the long wait time." "Can we call her?" "Make the room ready for the next person."
No mention of the person waiting in Room # 1.
At 12:15 the door opened. "What are you waiting for?" I explained that she [this very person] had instructed me to wait for the doctor. She backed out and there was a brief hallway conversation. Popped back in. "The doctor took care of that immediately, as soon as you came in. You can go."
I found my own way back to the lobby, picked up a photocopy of my original referral paper from work, and went out to my car to phone my work.
Free. And feeling as if I had just concluded my part in a Chekov play.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Divine Providence, Part I
I just experienced a divine intervention.
An intervention in psychological/behavioral circles occurs when a circle of family or friends intervenes in destructive/addictive behavior. A divine intervention occurs when circumstances &/or Divine Providence step in to create circumstances in which it is difficult or impossible to escape making a positive choice against one's will.
I'm making this up on the fly.
At the end of November, after 7 months of unemployment, I received a job offer, contingent upon passing a physical exam. This, I was assured, consisted of visiting a specific clinic and having a doctor ascertain that I could walk and talk. Piece of cake. I was still floating [from receiving a job offer at last] when I nonchalantly waltzed into the Dockinnabocks medical clinic waving my piece of paper and sat in the lobby to take my turn. I was fairly revved up, and there was rather loud Christmas music of the least therapeutic genre playing on the radio, which I always find intensely annoying, but I was not concerned. I had visited this specific clinic many times in the past and been satisfied with my care.
I failed the physical.
For one thing, I failed to establish a rapport with the MA who briskly shuffled me through the weight, eye exam, and urine dip--I had demanded a "hat" for this, tired of trying to hit the mark using these UA cups provided--and vital signs. She really became offended when she took my blood pressure, which was somewhat high. I did not make any particular response to this, and perhaps I was supposed to express concern or shock. Frankly, I have come to regard my blood pressure as mine, my own property, and not anyone else's business to criticize.
After being left to stew for awhile, the doctor came in and rechecked my BP and by this time it was really high. About ten or twenty years ago I discovered that many times when my BP is checked, my anxiety about it causes an alteration in the phenomenon being measured, and it inevitably rises. No doubt if I were properly healthy, this would not be a problem, but my paying attention to having my BP taken always raises my anxiety. I kept thinking about how high my BP was last year, and sorrowfully contemplating about the lack of interest this doctor would show if she saw me shivering under a bridge somewhere having failed to land a job.
Well, the doctor was more brisk and efficient and unfriendly than the MA had been. I was caused to undergo a series of tests which felt as if I was offering to enroll in the military, culminating in what could have passed for a sobriety test. I'm neither adept nor graceful nor athletic nor kinesthetic, so the result was a certain level of humiliation.
The doctor informed me angrily that she was not authorizing me to go to work until my blood pressure was under control. I engaged in the always-losing slippery slope argument that I would be staring homelessness in the face without a job, listed the multiple stressors I experienced while I have been unemployed, and stated that I would rather be dead than homeless. She asked if that was a threat, and I said no, then we were in the hallway and I was left standing, invisible, not shown to the exit, but abandoned without instructions.
This was, by the way, also a wonderful lesson in customer service from the standpoint of a health care consumer. As in, how it feels to receive bad customer service. So I stood in the hallway where I was dropped, overhearing the MD phone my human resources contact, until I was instructed by someone to wait in the lobby, where I waited until the MD saw me and instructed me to leave.
I'm not happy with my behavior in the clinic; however, it was largely the culmination of a long and difficult summer coupled with what I perceived as very unfriendly manners on the part of the staff.
Immediately the next morning I visited the FriendlyClinic, which has facilites on-site for visiting either a walk-in side, or offices for appointments with doctors. I explained the problem, took the medication I was prescribed, and began checking my blood pressure once or twice a day and taking care with what I ate. Immediately I began to feel better. Hypertension really does have symptoms and can be sensed. I made an appointment with a permanent doctor and came in for another walk-in visit in between to make sure my medication was on track.
I realized, by exercising logic, that death was now off the table. This was my divine intervention. If I was meant to die, the situation virtually forcing me to comply with medical treatment could easily not have happened. So I instructed myself to stop dwelling on death all the time.
I also received assistance from family to enable me to make multiple visits to the doctors, and purchase my medication, paying cash, as the COBRA for my old insurance had not been affordable. For two weeks I have been white-knuckling it about whether or not this employer would care to wait while I took care of this medical issue and could be authorized to work. I have also been seeing aspects of my personality with which I am increasingly disenchanted--a wonderful opportunity to change.
Today I reported to my actual MD for the first time. Astoundingly young, yet knowledgeable, insightful and respectful, he graciously wrote a letter I could present to the Dockinnabocks, which still held my fate in its hands. His letter stated that I am now under medical care and being treated for hypertension which, although not yet within normal limits, is expected to arrive there soon.
I had hope.
An intervention in psychological/behavioral circles occurs when a circle of family or friends intervenes in destructive/addictive behavior. A divine intervention occurs when circumstances &/or Divine Providence step in to create circumstances in which it is difficult or impossible to escape making a positive choice against one's will.
I'm making this up on the fly.
At the end of November, after 7 months of unemployment, I received a job offer, contingent upon passing a physical exam. This, I was assured, consisted of visiting a specific clinic and having a doctor ascertain that I could walk and talk. Piece of cake. I was still floating [from receiving a job offer at last] when I nonchalantly waltzed into the Dockinnabocks medical clinic waving my piece of paper and sat in the lobby to take my turn. I was fairly revved up, and there was rather loud Christmas music of the least therapeutic genre playing on the radio, which I always find intensely annoying, but I was not concerned. I had visited this specific clinic many times in the past and been satisfied with my care.
I failed the physical.
For one thing, I failed to establish a rapport with the MA who briskly shuffled me through the weight, eye exam, and urine dip--I had demanded a "hat" for this, tired of trying to hit the mark using these UA cups provided--and vital signs. She really became offended when she took my blood pressure, which was somewhat high. I did not make any particular response to this, and perhaps I was supposed to express concern or shock. Frankly, I have come to regard my blood pressure as mine, my own property, and not anyone else's business to criticize.
After being left to stew for awhile, the doctor came in and rechecked my BP and by this time it was really high. About ten or twenty years ago I discovered that many times when my BP is checked, my anxiety about it causes an alteration in the phenomenon being measured, and it inevitably rises. No doubt if I were properly healthy, this would not be a problem, but my paying attention to having my BP taken always raises my anxiety. I kept thinking about how high my BP was last year, and sorrowfully contemplating about the lack of interest this doctor would show if she saw me shivering under a bridge somewhere having failed to land a job.
Well, the doctor was more brisk and efficient and unfriendly than the MA had been. I was caused to undergo a series of tests which felt as if I was offering to enroll in the military, culminating in what could have passed for a sobriety test. I'm neither adept nor graceful nor athletic nor kinesthetic, so the result was a certain level of humiliation.
The doctor informed me angrily that she was not authorizing me to go to work until my blood pressure was under control. I engaged in the always-losing slippery slope argument that I would be staring homelessness in the face without a job, listed the multiple stressors I experienced while I have been unemployed, and stated that I would rather be dead than homeless. She asked if that was a threat, and I said no, then we were in the hallway and I was left standing, invisible, not shown to the exit, but abandoned without instructions.
This was, by the way, also a wonderful lesson in customer service from the standpoint of a health care consumer. As in, how it feels to receive bad customer service. So I stood in the hallway where I was dropped, overhearing the MD phone my human resources contact, until I was instructed by someone to wait in the lobby, where I waited until the MD saw me and instructed me to leave.
I'm not happy with my behavior in the clinic; however, it was largely the culmination of a long and difficult summer coupled with what I perceived as very unfriendly manners on the part of the staff.
Immediately the next morning I visited the FriendlyClinic, which has facilites on-site for visiting either a walk-in side, or offices for appointments with doctors. I explained the problem, took the medication I was prescribed, and began checking my blood pressure once or twice a day and taking care with what I ate. Immediately I began to feel better. Hypertension really does have symptoms and can be sensed. I made an appointment with a permanent doctor and came in for another walk-in visit in between to make sure my medication was on track.
I realized, by exercising logic, that death was now off the table. This was my divine intervention. If I was meant to die, the situation virtually forcing me to comply with medical treatment could easily not have happened. So I instructed myself to stop dwelling on death all the time.
I also received assistance from family to enable me to make multiple visits to the doctors, and purchase my medication, paying cash, as the COBRA for my old insurance had not been affordable. For two weeks I have been white-knuckling it about whether or not this employer would care to wait while I took care of this medical issue and could be authorized to work. I have also been seeing aspects of my personality with which I am increasingly disenchanted--a wonderful opportunity to change.
Today I reported to my actual MD for the first time. Astoundingly young, yet knowledgeable, insightful and respectful, he graciously wrote a letter I could present to the Dockinnabocks, which still held my fate in its hands. His letter stated that I am now under medical care and being treated for hypertension which, although not yet within normal limits, is expected to arrive there soon.
I had hope.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Coleslaw With Pomegranate
Coleslaw With Pomegranate [and Optional Grapefruit]
About 3 cups cabbage, finely chopped [chopped probably works better than grated for this recipe]
About 1 cup pomegranate berries, about 1/2 large pomegranate
1/2 ruby grapefruit, sectioned; slice sections in 1/3rds [optional]
Mix chopped cabbage, pomegranate seed/berries, and grapefruit section pieces; mix in dressing.
Dressing:
1/2 cup vegenaise
juice from 1 lime
about 1 Tablespoon agave nectar [honey would work]
about 1 teaspoon coriander
salt to taste
Mix dressing, then stir into salad.
I was making coleslaw the other day and also had some pomegranate and ruby grapefruit. I just couldn't resist trying this. Not everybody goes for the grapefruit, or even for the pomegranate, but I find that the sweet, tart berries mixed with the cabbage are extremely refreshing.
About 3 cups cabbage, finely chopped [chopped probably works better than grated for this recipe]
About 1 cup pomegranate berries, about 1/2 large pomegranate
1/2 ruby grapefruit, sectioned; slice sections in 1/3rds [optional]
Mix chopped cabbage, pomegranate seed/berries, and grapefruit section pieces; mix in dressing.
Dressing:
1/2 cup vegenaise
juice from 1 lime
about 1 Tablespoon agave nectar [honey would work]
about 1 teaspoon coriander
salt to taste
Mix dressing, then stir into salad.
I was making coleslaw the other day and also had some pomegranate and ruby grapefruit. I just couldn't resist trying this. Not everybody goes for the grapefruit, or even for the pomegranate, but I find that the sweet, tart berries mixed with the cabbage are extremely refreshing.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
The Right Planet
I had a date tonight, not a boygirl date but a date with a group of non-neurotypical people on the right planet for me, and I am in love, sort of. In love with being with people who seem pretty wacko on the outside but when they speak they make sense to me. There's no fluff, no small talk, and everything they say is to the point and interesting, whether or not I agree with their point of view, and I didn't appreciate it until I was driving homewards and getting lost again, and it started to sink in.
I initially drove north from Puyallup on 161, being determined not to take the freeway if I didn't need to, all the way to where, according to Mapquest, I was supposed to "make a slight right" turn onto Pacific Highway/ HWY 99, so I got into the right lane which was an HOV lane, watching for the turn, but after a couple of blocks, checked the signs and realized that without turning I was already on 99.
Which threw me, all the way until I turned left on 16th Avenue and watched for 14th Avenue [I know, it doesn't make sense to me, either] but it petered out into a parking lot. So this time I got back onto 99 and passed the other 16th Avenue which I was supposed to take without seeing the sign but was alerted when I saw the street which "if you get to 176th you've gone 0.1 mile too far" so I did a U-ey and turned onto 16th, and then later there really was a 14th and I was there.
And met some really nice and interesting people, and shared my taco salad and their pizza and sparkling cider, and we all talked about various things for two hours and they were all very intelligent and knowledgeable and pleasant, and it started to make more sense that I would drive up 14 miles and 30 minutes through all the hell and dragons just to meet an assortment of strangers who were very little like me on the outside but a whole lot like me on the inside, and I thought, maybe I'll come back again.
And for once I was not spending the drive home in remorse and castigating myself for the stupid things I said and did and then I got lost again by not trusting Mapquest any more and finding my own route. I figured that if I made no turns from 161 to be on 99 on the drive up, I should make no turns from 99 on the way down and would end up back on 161. Which didn't work, and I'm pretty sure the turn I missed was for "I-5" which I didn't take because I didn't want to get Shanghai'd onto the freeway.
Probably that wouldn't have happened, and the signs would have shown up to just take 161 instead, but anyway I ended up in Fife, turning left onto 70th towards Edgewood and Puyallup. However, as soon as I saw Valley Avenue crossing 70th I turned onto it [instead of waiting for 161 to turn up] but I turned right, which took me back into Fife, so I had to turn around practically in someone's back yard and take Valley Avenue back home where I belong.
And thought, what a nice bunch of people.
I initially drove north from Puyallup on 161, being determined not to take the freeway if I didn't need to, all the way to where, according to Mapquest, I was supposed to "make a slight right" turn onto Pacific Highway/ HWY 99, so I got into the right lane which was an HOV lane, watching for the turn, but after a couple of blocks, checked the signs and realized that without turning I was already on 99.
Which threw me, all the way until I turned left on 16th Avenue and watched for 14th Avenue [I know, it doesn't make sense to me, either] but it petered out into a parking lot. So this time I got back onto 99 and passed the other 16th Avenue which I was supposed to take without seeing the sign but was alerted when I saw the street which "if you get to 176th you've gone 0.1 mile too far" so I did a U-ey and turned onto 16th, and then later there really was a 14th and I was there.
And met some really nice and interesting people, and shared my taco salad and their pizza and sparkling cider, and we all talked about various things for two hours and they were all very intelligent and knowledgeable and pleasant, and it started to make more sense that I would drive up 14 miles and 30 minutes through all the hell and dragons just to meet an assortment of strangers who were very little like me on the outside but a whole lot like me on the inside, and I thought, maybe I'll come back again.
And for once I was not spending the drive home in remorse and castigating myself for the stupid things I said and did and then I got lost again by not trusting Mapquest any more and finding my own route. I figured that if I made no turns from 161 to be on 99 on the drive up, I should make no turns from 99 on the way down and would end up back on 161. Which didn't work, and I'm pretty sure the turn I missed was for "I-5" which I didn't take because I didn't want to get Shanghai'd onto the freeway.
Probably that wouldn't have happened, and the signs would have shown up to just take 161 instead, but anyway I ended up in Fife, turning left onto 70th towards Edgewood and Puyallup. However, as soon as I saw Valley Avenue crossing 70th I turned onto it [instead of waiting for 161 to turn up] but I turned right, which took me back into Fife, so I had to turn around practically in someone's back yard and take Valley Avenue back home where I belong.
And thought, what a nice bunch of people.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Comparing Elections: the Old And the New
Baha'is just had their Unit Conventions, electing a delegate from each district who will meet all together in May to elect the members of the National body, the National Spiritual Assembly. This is done every year, and because the system of election for the Baha'is is done in such a different spirit from United States elections, it is good to contemplate some of the differences.
The object of the Baha'i Faith is unity, so taking sides in a national partisan election [except for voting with a secret ballot, and as long as one does not declare membership with a political party] is forbidden. Some of us on Facebook have had a difficult time refraining from expressing sympathy with certain points of view; we need to wean ourselves away from the divisiveness of the American political process.
There are at least two main factors in the American partisan political process which create divisiveness. One is that the candidates are always running on the basis of their [or the party's] opinion about several issues. So if the candidate believes in the equality of men and women, and the voter does also, you would vote for them. The other factor is that people run who wish to represent a particular viewpoint, and are considered to represent the people who elected them, so they are responsible to vote in Congress in a way that represents the wishes of the people. I tend to experience a lot of tension at election time around worrying whether the person elected will uphold my rights or represent my point of view.
The Baha'i system is rather different. Members of the National Spiritual Assembly make decisions together as a team, at the time that the Assembly meets, and they are not setting the policy running the affairs of the Faith based on either their opinions, or the feelings of the "electorate." People who serve on the Assembly are responsible to God, not to the people who elected them. Also, in the Baha'i Faith, the members have already recognized and agreed with the major issues which were expressed by the Founder of the Faith, Baha'u'llah, so those issues are considered settled. There is no wrangling between members of the Assembly about issues, and in fact, no one in the Baha'i Faith actually runs for office.
Issues which the Founder of the Baha'i Faith "settled" include, but are not limited to:
Instead of people "running for office," Baha'is meet together at their local conventions and each person votes privately for one person who can "best combine the necessary qualities of unquestioned loyalty, of selfless devotion, of a well-trained mind, of recognized ability and mature experience." The task of voting is carried out with a "purity of spirit" in a "rarefied atmosphere of selflessness and detachment." The person receiving the greatest number of votes is elected as the delegate to the National Convention. No electioneering is allowed; no discussion of any individual's qualifications or suitability; there is no campaigning, and no one offers their services as a delegate.
According to Mahmoud's Diary, the written recollections of one of the Persian believers who accompanied 'Abdu'l-Baha on his journey to America one hundred years ago, 'Abdu'l-Baha made the following statement about the qualifications for President of the United States:
The president must be a man who does not insistently seek the presidency. He should be free of all thoughts of name and rank; rather, he should say, 'I am unworthy and incapable of this position and cannot bear this great burden.' Such persons deserve the presidency. If the object is to promote the public good, then the president must be a well-wisher of all and not a self-seeking person. If the object, however, is to promote personal interests, then such a position will be injurious to humanity and not beneficial to the public.
The object of the Baha'i Faith is unity, so taking sides in a national partisan election [except for voting with a secret ballot, and as long as one does not declare membership with a political party] is forbidden. Some of us on Facebook have had a difficult time refraining from expressing sympathy with certain points of view; we need to wean ourselves away from the divisiveness of the American political process.
There are at least two main factors in the American partisan political process which create divisiveness. One is that the candidates are always running on the basis of their [or the party's] opinion about several issues. So if the candidate believes in the equality of men and women, and the voter does also, you would vote for them. The other factor is that people run who wish to represent a particular viewpoint, and are considered to represent the people who elected them, so they are responsible to vote in Congress in a way that represents the wishes of the people. I tend to experience a lot of tension at election time around worrying whether the person elected will uphold my rights or represent my point of view.
The Baha'i system is rather different. Members of the National Spiritual Assembly make decisions together as a team, at the time that the Assembly meets, and they are not setting the policy running the affairs of the Faith based on either their opinions, or the feelings of the "electorate." People who serve on the Assembly are responsible to God, not to the people who elected them. Also, in the Baha'i Faith, the members have already recognized and agreed with the major issues which were expressed by the Founder of the Faith, Baha'u'llah, so those issues are considered settled. There is no wrangling between members of the Assembly about issues, and in fact, no one in the Baha'i Faith actually runs for office.
Issues which the Founder of the Baha'i Faith "settled" include, but are not limited to:
- Equality of men and women
- Racial unity: there is only one race
- Universal compulsory education
- Agreement of science and religion
- A universal auxiliary language
- Independent investigation of truth
- Spiritual means for the elimination of the extremes of wealth and poverty
Instead of people "running for office," Baha'is meet together at their local conventions and each person votes privately for one person who can "best combine the necessary qualities of unquestioned loyalty, of selfless devotion, of a well-trained mind, of recognized ability and mature experience." The task of voting is carried out with a "purity of spirit" in a "rarefied atmosphere of selflessness and detachment." The person receiving the greatest number of votes is elected as the delegate to the National Convention. No electioneering is allowed; no discussion of any individual's qualifications or suitability; there is no campaigning, and no one offers their services as a delegate.
According to Mahmoud's Diary, the written recollections of one of the Persian believers who accompanied 'Abdu'l-Baha on his journey to America one hundred years ago, 'Abdu'l-Baha made the following statement about the qualifications for President of the United States:
The president must be a man who does not insistently seek the presidency. He should be free of all thoughts of name and rank; rather, he should say, 'I am unworthy and incapable of this position and cannot bear this great burden.' Such persons deserve the presidency. If the object is to promote the public good, then the president must be a well-wisher of all and not a self-seeking person. If the object, however, is to promote personal interests, then such a position will be injurious to humanity and not beneficial to the public.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Transitions
I have been rather busy in the last few weeks, and so have neglected blogging. I am still contemplating what to do next, as in 5 months I have not found a nursing job. A strong interest is in pursuing a bachelor's and master's degree in therapy. There are a few different directions I could follow in that; one is to find a way to ease the path for people who are helping their aging mother or father make transitions associated with aging, one is to assist people in making a transition to healthier eating, and so forth. How to make the transition into college with limited Financial Aid available [as I made a good income prior to losing my job] and with my unemployment benefits running out, is a challenge and a puzzle.
Today I attended the third "Ruhi" study class on the Covenant, which is thrilling and food for thought, which we are meeting on Sundays.
It is the last of September, the full moon, and a beautiful day. Approximately a month ago during the Blue Moon my daughter and her fiance held a beautiful and touching handfasting ceremony, and they plan to marry a year and a day from then.
I gravitated into joining the Leadership Team of the Tacoma Job Club, which is growing and thriving in its new meeting space at the Tacoma News Tribune offices.
Much on my mind has been contemplating moving to some place much less expensive, so that even when I again have a well paid job, less of my budget will go into rent and more can be saved or spent more wisely. I would, as most people, like to have the most interior space for the least amount of cash, partly because I need room for sewing, so that entails a second bedroom. I have not begun to look, yet. There is much sorting and clearing out to be done before I can be serious about moving.
Today I attended the third "Ruhi" study class on the Covenant, which is thrilling and food for thought, which we are meeting on Sundays.
It is the last of September, the full moon, and a beautiful day. Approximately a month ago during the Blue Moon my daughter and her fiance held a beautiful and touching handfasting ceremony, and they plan to marry a year and a day from then.
I gravitated into joining the Leadership Team of the Tacoma Job Club, which is growing and thriving in its new meeting space at the Tacoma News Tribune offices.
Much on my mind has been contemplating moving to some place much less expensive, so that even when I again have a well paid job, less of my budget will go into rent and more can be saved or spent more wisely. I would, as most people, like to have the most interior space for the least amount of cash, partly because I need room for sewing, so that entails a second bedroom. I have not begun to look, yet. There is much sorting and clearing out to be done before I can be serious about moving.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Personal Wildfires
Friday I picked up my daughter and her fiance for a camping family reunion at Steamboat Rock State Park on Banks Lake, near Grand Coulee Dam, in Washington. Topography changes in Washington as you cross the Cascades, from greenery to scattered pines, to desert with sagebrush. We left I-90 at George, Washington, drove past Sun Lakes through a lot of basalt cliffs, and as we approached Steamboat Rock, saw a lot of signs for "Rocks 6 Miles." We joked: Really. I would not have guessed.
We arrived in mid afternoon to discover one other family, one of my cousins, in a good spot, and camped near him. After we set up the 3-room tent borrowed from the fiance's parents, and the kitchen, my daughter and fiance realized they had forgotten to bring their suitcase, so I shared out whatever spare clothing I had that they needed. The temperature was in the 80's during the day, but dropped to the 40's in the evening--typical of a desert climate.
Camp was beautiful: basalt cliffs and rocks, Russian olives and sagebrush and willows, a serene lake, and a crystal clear atmosphere which changed minute by minute with the light at dusk and sunrise. I went off to buy firewood and discovered that no fires were allowed, so we altered our cooking methods accordingly. As the temperature dropped, it would have been nice to have a fire. More cousins and a sister arrived, and we sat at a picnic table into the dark, shivering, telling stories, and watching the stars pop out. More stars than I've seen in about ten years. The Milky Way. Even the half moon was so bright, a flashlight wasn't necessary for navigation.
I discovered that, though to appearances the camp spot was level, my sleeping spot was not, so I fought with gravity the next two nights. For some reason I slept poorly. We were camped next to a thicket, from which I could hear a lot of twigs snapping and stomping around during both nights, and realized we were next to a deer thicket. I had seen one white-tailed deer with spikes at the area two miles away where there was a water source, but never saw our neighbor deer. I heard them a lot, though. Sunday morning I even heard a scuffle and a little bleat.
At Northrup Point, two miles away, there was a shower. I had one towel and one washcloth and some shampoo, so the three of us divvied this up. We read that we could take a thirty minute shower for fifty cents, so we figured out a way for one person to slip in after another, so as to make the limited supply of quarters last. After my daughter's quick shower, I jumped in, and shortly realized that the shower only lasted 3 minutes, not thirty. Fortunately, I hadn't put shampoo in my hair before the water ran out. Life is good.
We saw deer, chipmunks, geese and ducks and a heron, flickers and chickadees and magpies and crows, lots of turkey vultures, and my daughter caught a glimpse of a coyote. Sunday I finally slept at two-thirty in the morning, listening to the yips and howls of the coyotes and their cubs, and awoke at dawn hearing roosters crowing.
More cousins and siblings arrived Saturday. We sat in the shade and played a pub game the fiance brought, "Shut the Box." I listened as the sons of one of my cousins discussed numeric odds, way over my head, mathematically. As the temperature rose, some people swam: the bottom was muddy, but the water warm. Someone brought a teething baby. More stories were told.
Saturday evening it clouded up and there was a lot of lightning. I predicted that by the time dinner was ready and I was cooking it, the rain would come. I was so glad we had put up a fly for shade, which also serves for rain. We quickly moved most of our items off the picnic table and under the fly as the rain came down. Then we saw them: two wildfires had been started by lightning; one across the lake, and one to the north on the faraway hills. Our party phoned them in, and they had already been reported. We watched the fires, which burned all night and all day Sunday, as the rain was only a brief shower. I awoke Sunday smelling the smoke, which spread across the whole area.
Sunday more people gathered during the morning, and we had a large potluck lunch. I recruited six people to walk our sun fly up to the general gathering, which had no shade. Ice cream was cranked. Someone brought green ambrosia, one of my favorite salads. Happy Birthday was played on a tuba for my uncle [my last remaining uncle], then my uncle played a few bars of Ach Du Lieber Augustine on the tuba. At last, feeling like a party pooper for taking away the shade, our party packed up the sun fly and drove away. Driving in the daylight is surpassingly pleasant, as opposed to driving in the dark.
It was a windy drive back. I had my daughter drive from George, Washington to the rest stop after Vantage. I directed her wrong when we got onto the freeway and had a panic attack when I realized we were heading East by accident, but we got turned around. Although my daughter has been driving for years, I haven't been riding with her during that time. My heart and mind take a trip back in time whenever I ride with her, remembering the harrowing time of teaching her to drive. Eventually I will get over it and my heart will catch up to my rational mind in realizing she is a competent driver.
We sang to Steeleye Span and 80's music as we crossed the Cascades, left the weekend and our brief sojourn at camp, and entered the city and the traffic that we drive in daily. We left the magic behind, but it lingered in our hearts.
We arrived in mid afternoon to discover one other family, one of my cousins, in a good spot, and camped near him. After we set up the 3-room tent borrowed from the fiance's parents, and the kitchen, my daughter and fiance realized they had forgotten to bring their suitcase, so I shared out whatever spare clothing I had that they needed. The temperature was in the 80's during the day, but dropped to the 40's in the evening--typical of a desert climate.
Camp was beautiful: basalt cliffs and rocks, Russian olives and sagebrush and willows, a serene lake, and a crystal clear atmosphere which changed minute by minute with the light at dusk and sunrise. I went off to buy firewood and discovered that no fires were allowed, so we altered our cooking methods accordingly. As the temperature dropped, it would have been nice to have a fire. More cousins and a sister arrived, and we sat at a picnic table into the dark, shivering, telling stories, and watching the stars pop out. More stars than I've seen in about ten years. The Milky Way. Even the half moon was so bright, a flashlight wasn't necessary for navigation.
I discovered that, though to appearances the camp spot was level, my sleeping spot was not, so I fought with gravity the next two nights. For some reason I slept poorly. We were camped next to a thicket, from which I could hear a lot of twigs snapping and stomping around during both nights, and realized we were next to a deer thicket. I had seen one white-tailed deer with spikes at the area two miles away where there was a water source, but never saw our neighbor deer. I heard them a lot, though. Sunday morning I even heard a scuffle and a little bleat.
At Northrup Point, two miles away, there was a shower. I had one towel and one washcloth and some shampoo, so the three of us divvied this up. We read that we could take a thirty minute shower for fifty cents, so we figured out a way for one person to slip in after another, so as to make the limited supply of quarters last. After my daughter's quick shower, I jumped in, and shortly realized that the shower only lasted 3 minutes, not thirty. Fortunately, I hadn't put shampoo in my hair before the water ran out. Life is good.
We saw deer, chipmunks, geese and ducks and a heron, flickers and chickadees and magpies and crows, lots of turkey vultures, and my daughter caught a glimpse of a coyote. Sunday I finally slept at two-thirty in the morning, listening to the yips and howls of the coyotes and their cubs, and awoke at dawn hearing roosters crowing.
More cousins and siblings arrived Saturday. We sat in the shade and played a pub game the fiance brought, "Shut the Box." I listened as the sons of one of my cousins discussed numeric odds, way over my head, mathematically. As the temperature rose, some people swam: the bottom was muddy, but the water warm. Someone brought a teething baby. More stories were told.
Saturday evening it clouded up and there was a lot of lightning. I predicted that by the time dinner was ready and I was cooking it, the rain would come. I was so glad we had put up a fly for shade, which also serves for rain. We quickly moved most of our items off the picnic table and under the fly as the rain came down. Then we saw them: two wildfires had been started by lightning; one across the lake, and one to the north on the faraway hills. Our party phoned them in, and they had already been reported. We watched the fires, which burned all night and all day Sunday, as the rain was only a brief shower. I awoke Sunday smelling the smoke, which spread across the whole area.
Sunday more people gathered during the morning, and we had a large potluck lunch. I recruited six people to walk our sun fly up to the general gathering, which had no shade. Ice cream was cranked. Someone brought green ambrosia, one of my favorite salads. Happy Birthday was played on a tuba for my uncle [my last remaining uncle], then my uncle played a few bars of Ach Du Lieber Augustine on the tuba. At last, feeling like a party pooper for taking away the shade, our party packed up the sun fly and drove away. Driving in the daylight is surpassingly pleasant, as opposed to driving in the dark.
It was a windy drive back. I had my daughter drive from George, Washington to the rest stop after Vantage. I directed her wrong when we got onto the freeway and had a panic attack when I realized we were heading East by accident, but we got turned around. Although my daughter has been driving for years, I haven't been riding with her during that time. My heart and mind take a trip back in time whenever I ride with her, remembering the harrowing time of teaching her to drive. Eventually I will get over it and my heart will catch up to my rational mind in realizing she is a competent driver.
We sang to Steeleye Span and 80's music as we crossed the Cascades, left the weekend and our brief sojourn at camp, and entered the city and the traffic that we drive in daily. We left the magic behind, but it lingered in our hearts.
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