All Right Brain All the Time

Today. Partly cloudy with occasional showers. Temps almost chilly (low 46F, high 67F). That’s what I like about Western Oregon. NO HOT WEATHER almost hardly ever.

We went to the Old Cascades yesterday and hiked six miles. We used to hike and camp twelve or more miles in the High Cascades every week, but thanks to one knee surgery and two shoulder surgeries, yesterday was only our second trip in two years to any deep woods. I love places where a person could die and rot and no one ever know what happened to him. Every time someone gets lost in the woods near Eugene and is NEVER found, I think, “YAY! I LOVE living here.”

Today, like most days, I am sipping vodka. Two ounces is my limit, so sometimes I will drink on an empty stomach to get a little higher. I’m also—as you probably noticed—writing. I am most purposefully NOT writing a left-brain essay this time because, like a dog, I learn what people like, and that’s what I give them. Ha! Sometimes—for about two seconds—I AM tempted to write to please other people, but I do it so badly anyway that it’s useless. ME always leaks out, and most people aren’t going to like me no matter what, and I’m rather proud of that, actually, although I do make a studied effort to avoid alienating people unnecessarily.

In a few minutes, I’m going to go out and dig a hole. I only have once a month garbage pickup (a single small can), and I have no yard debris pickup, so I bury grass trimmings and compost, and, when they’re done rotting, I dig them up and put them in the garden or scatter them around the yard. Recycling and composting aren’t just about frugality; they’re about respect.

Anyway, digging a hole is something else I haven’t done in two years, and I shouldn’t do it now either because I’m probably not healed enough. Ah, but any day that I work with a shovel is a happy day; I have dug holes for the sheer joy of it.

Climbing way high up in my Ponderosa Pine and pruning limbs that could fall on the house during an ice storm is another bad idea that I’m planning to undertake (a neighbor took photo at top in 2003). Peggy protests it adamantly, but I am SICK of being a pain-wracked invalid. I’ll wait a few months though, until the sap is down, and I’m stronger.

I visited my friend, Doyd, this week. He’s 92, and in a nursing home, and breathes like a fish out of water even on oxygen. He’s also nearly blind, and his TV is broken, and his neighbor NEVER turns his own TV off, and the place is ALWAYS noisy, and the nursing home staff lost his dentures, and the place smells like shit, urine, and Pine Sol. Doyd is screwed. Doyd should die today. If I were Doyd, I would want to die today.

I have a big problem with trimming big trees because I’m afraid of heights. I used to fly an airplane, but even that didn’t make me like high places. The thing is, I always worry that I’ll jump off, which is kind of funny because the VERY LAST THING I want to do is to fall to my death. This incongruity used to make me think I was crazy, but then I learned that it’s a symptom of acrophobia, and I felt better about it. It’s like when I’m tempted to throw hot coffee in someone’s face, not because I want to, but because I so very much don’t want to that I’m afraid I might. I’ll think, “Wow, wouldn’t it be just the most horrible thing in the world to suddenly throw this cup of hot coffee in my friend’s face,” and then I’ll think, “Uh, oh, how do I know I won’t DO IT?” Then, I take my hand off the cup and sit back in my chair.

I’ve trimmed this tree before, and I’m hell-bent on doing it again because I’M the kind of person who does things FOR HIMSELF, and that’s the ONLY kind of person I want to be. When I have to give that up, what’s the use? Watching other people do my work is NOT ME, and sitting around in a nursing home is definitely NOT ME.

Years ago, when I was an undertaker, I went to pick a corpse up at a nursing home late one night. “She’s in room twelve,” the attendant said, but the attendant didn’t say that there were two women in room twelve. I stood looking at them for several minutes in the dim light trying to figure out which one was dead. I guessed wrong. No, no, no, I don’t want to be in one of those beds spending money like there’s no tomorrow for NOTHING that is of the least value to anyone—except to the people who are getting the money.


rhymeswithplague said...

Maybe you're sipping a little too much vodka.

I mean this in the best possible way, but you sound a little (a) crazy, (b) overwrought, (c) like someone with a death wish, (d) less in pain nowadays (and that last one's a good thing) if you are climbing trees, digging holes, going on 6-mile hikes, etc. I must say, I agree with Peggy.

I have the acrophobia symptoms you mentioned when approaching or driving across bridges. I always think, "What if the car suddenly swerved and went off the bridge and plunged into the water/railroad track/traffic below?" and I even have to grip the wheel tightly to keep the thing on course.

The utter unpredictability is what keeps me coming back here....!

CreekHiker / HollysFolly said...

Good for you Snow! It is that desire to just DO something that keeps me going and I'm sure it's what made me get out of my wheelchair!

Your description of nursing homes is dead on!

Lorraina said...

Thanks Snow for what you said about acrophobia. I didn't know it was a common thought to feel like jumping off a high spot. Sometimes it feels like a magnet is pulling me that way and theres a spot along the river road that i always think how easy it would be to just drive straight in rather than make the curve. Don't think i would ever do it but its been worrisome thinking that way so i just avoid such places.

Re your burying grass clippings and compostables. Why not directly into the veg garden if you have one. I used to dig a trench in between the rows and layer all that stuff in there, gradually filling it in then start another row. Then the next year plant right on those nutritionally rich rows and alternate the trenches.

Like you i am also sick and tired of being sick and tired. Poor Doyd, i can only hope to never be where he is and hope he gets relief soon.

The Tusk said...

Its amazing how similar are lives are and yet the same things that are similar are different for so many reasons. First, one of my dearest friends who said one of the funniest things I have ever heard was, 'did you ever think of getting your arm stuck in the elevator door, it ripping off and the elevator filling with blood' her phobia. Well, of course I don't think that now, your body doesn't hold that much blood. Ahh, but for a brief moment I believed in her phobia and it was very funny at the time. How is this phobia thought an Irony, I'm not sure. I'd have to over-analyze this situation, and for me it was simply an tender moment. She is divorced now after 22 years with her own home, son in college, Pied-a-terre apartment in NYC. I'm sure she never worries for an elevator door, and yet maybe she could still make me left. We work in the same building, yet we have yet to cross paths in over 15 years, she is on the 9th floor and I on the 10th.

I just finished cleaning a tree branch or two from off tall pines over my mothers home, for the same storm related reason.This was after a March storm pushed a large evergreen over and it clipped the corner of the house, no real damage other than Facia(gutters and Shingles). After my work was done, my mother ended up hiring a pro and dropping two more trees.

I make such good mulch, stored behind my garage, I start with about 25 bushels(large bags of leaves), it turns into such beautiful dirt, I use it all Spring and Summer for my Gardens and filling holes in the lawn. I wish I could send it to people as gifts, I relish it so much. But who wants dirt as a gift. It's only useful when your buried. Did I come full circle. Well thats Life on the Surface.

quick question: Is Peggy short for Margaret, and how close are you to Bend, 30 minutes?

The Tusk said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Natalie said...

I am happy to hear you choosing life. :DDD

kylie said...

this sounds like a kylie post: all rambling and going nowhere.
i must add that i like you, even against your wishes

enjoy your self and come back alive

The Tusk said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Tiffany said...

ah, I've always wanted to live in the northwest. My employer's HQ is in Portland and I have daydreams about moving there and being a cool hipster living where it rarely gets hot. It's grotesquely hot here in Indiana, I want to rip my skin off.

I too have the same thing with thinking about doing things I am afraid to do (such as jumping off a tall building or just smacking someone in the face for no reason. Sounds insane, but I'm glad I'm not the only person who thinks those things)

anywho, I always enjoy your posts, right or left-brained.

Marion said...

OMG, I love you, Snow. You had me rolling with laughter. I think you should put your friend Doyd out of his misery, poor guy. I wanted to shoot MYSELF after reading about his sorry existence!!

My husband and I both have living wills and promise to never, ever put each other in a hell hole nursing home. (He's a retired nurse and worked in some of the 'best of the best' and they're all PRISONS, short-staffed and horrible). I'm so glad you're out and about. Oh, and hire someone to cut those limbs. Stay the hell out of that tree!! Hugs & Love to you!! xo

The Bipolar Diva said...

I am SO glad that I'm not the only one that thinks that they just might decide to jump, or throw hot coffee!

Marion said...

"Ah, but any day that I work with a shovel is a happy day; I have dug holes for the sheer joy of it."

Me, too, Snow. Just the ability to use my under-worked muscles makes me very happy! It's a good day, then.

Snowbrush said...

Rhymes said: "Maybe you're sipping a little too much vodka."

Two ounces? I said I drink that much "most days," but I often drink even less for days on end. I will confess, however, to getting a little hammered on martinis at my neighbor's house at last, but that was an extremely rare occasion. If I WERE tempted to abuse something, it would be Demerol because (a) I find it more interesting than anything other than a out and out hallucinogenic, and (b) it doesn't leave a person cotton-mouthed and hungover.

Rhymes said: "you sound a little (a) crazy, (b) overwrought, (c) like someone with a death wish..."

Are these in order of probability? Is overwrought preferable to underwrought? Will anyone know the difference in 100 years? Does anyone know the difference even now? Does it take one to know one, my dear friend, Rhymes?

Creekhiker said: "it is that desire to just DO something that keeps me going and I'm sure it's what made me get out of my wheelchair!"

I know what you mean, although the thought of undoing my last surgery is a major fear for me. I have had some of my worst nights in months this week due to my stabs at resuming normal activity. I'm literally back on Demerol.

Lorraina said: "i always think how easy it would be to just drive straight in rather than make the curve..."

See Rhymes' comment for a similar fear. Where the gap between a phobia and a suicidal ideation lies is unclear to me. I actually have the ideation, yet I would never choose falling as a way to kill myself, and that's what made the whole thing so weird.

Snowbrush said...

The Tusk said: "did you ever think of getting your arm stuck in the elevator door..."

I saw this happen in a movie once. Of course, it wasn't a terribly good movie.

My Nogod, man, are you losing it? You said the same things--pretty much--in two responses, so I thought you must want me to delete the first one. Then, I noticed that the first one was more complete--and better written--so I left them both.

The Tusk said: "Is Peggy short for Margaret, and are you close to Bend maybe 30 minutes?"

Peggy is a true Peggy. I love her name, but she isn't so crazy about it. I've been thinking about doing a series of posts about her.

Bend is in the desert on the other side of the Cascade Range. It's 100-150 miles from here (probably closer to the latter), which is a two to three hour drive.

Did you ask your mother why she cut down those trees?

Natalie said: "DDD"

Doctor of Divinity Degree? Do you have one, or do you think I should? You congratulate me on choosing life, and Rhymes says I sound suicidal. Maybe you guys should talk.

Kylie said: "this sounds like a kylie post: all rambling and going nowhere."

I have been at a loss lately about what to write. I have generally tried to write things that other people could relate to and/or be challenged by, but lately, I have rather wanted to just write as opposed to writing for a purpose, so, that's what I did. I edited it for clarity, but it was pretty much stream of consciousness.

Kylie said: "i must add that i like you, even against your wishes"

I am clueless. I like YOU, Kylie, and I hope you like me, so why you should interpret me as thinking the opposite is a mystery. Is there something you want from me that you're not getting?

The Tusk said...

I thought what I wrote in my first comment was an evolved blog comment, as I feel if I don't do re-writes, I'm not evolving as a writer. I'm so glad you thought the first post was better than the second. It wasn't intentional that I even posted the second or the third. When I hit submit, I recieved in return URL to long and it wiped the post clean. Not having another copy, I went to dinner and reposted hours later.
I did not take as much time or thought with the second attempt at comment. With this thinking, that if it was shorter I might get the post through.

Then when that one was rejected for the same too long URL response, I became a little frustrated. I thought maybe it was my condescending tone or my overly critical thoughts on my dear friend whom I haven't seen in so many years. This aside, I perservered and proceeded to post again.

In the back of my mind neurotically and with a little paranoia felt, this is what Snowbrush is doing to me on purpose. So before or after these posts I decided to follow you as you and Polly are my only followers to date. As maybe this was some mystical connection to me getting permission to joining in on your written pathos sessions, again.

I find the opportunity to converse with you delightful. In thanks, please accept my apology for over-commenting, I truly never thought these comments were making their way through. Your Gracious recognizance of my earliest and first blog comment to which you had so much more effort into and your comment of so better written brought pangs to my heartstrings. Unless of course you don't believe in heartstrings either. Then as man to man, I'm obliged.

That would be Life on The Surface.
The Tusk

Crazed Nitwit said...

Snowy sweety you are writing like someone with ADHD. Bouncing all over the place. I am both right and left brained. I write and eat with my left hand and do everything else right handed. This was problem in nursing school because I did not have a dominent hand. Took me awhile to figure out which side was better for doing procedures.

Tell what you think right brained and left brained mean please.

Crazed Nitwit said...

Oh and..........not all nursing homes are like that. The place I applied at last Tuesday was awesome!! Bright, filled with natural light and no one seemed to be ignored.

Anonymous said...

My days lately have been one's of sleeping...only wanting to sleep more. When my eyes are open, it's only through sheer will, so Joe knows I'm still "here". After I make some reassuring sentences I give a grateful sigh that I've done a good deed, and go back to sleep. I'm so tired. I wonder if there is ANYTHING that could give me the "spark" it would take to get me up "willingly" and have an interest that would actually make me MOVE with action instead of groans and exclamations of pain.

And then I come here, and see a NEW post and read it with enthusiasm.

I am SO SAD that "some" people have beaten you away from your comfortable subject matters, but even digging a hole is more interesting if YOU write about it, than "some" people's entire blogs!!

I don't go there. I come here.

When I"m at my happiest writing, I end up being under attack. When I go back to the "my day was fine. How was yours?" I'm not happy.

Now, for something a little different: I have made a person in my life PROMISE to deliver my hoarded medication to me if I am EVER in a no-win situation at a nursing home.

I will then make sure, in privacy, that IT WILL BE ENDED. Sadly, if I'm ever or on full life support, I won't be able to do it myself.

This will be in direct opposition to what my "church" acquaintances will say: "she flew in the face of God's will!!!!"

If there was even the remote possibility that was true (no it's not), then screw him and the ass he rode in on.

But as I see it, people are SUPPOSED to live, then DIE: Not be kept in a vegetative state just because a machine is forcing air into their lungs.

So I'd basically just be going against the law.......I kind of like THAT idea.

What would my punishment be....death row?

Anonymous said...

snow: did you get my comment? Google said it was too large to print. huh? gee. it was a good one too!

kylie said...

this is what i responded to when i said i like you despite your wishes
"most people aren’t going to like me no matter what, and I’m rather proud of that"

i should have said so but i get a bit vague and all....
anyway, gives me a chance to make more conversation.

why would there be something i want from you?

Snowbrush said...

To whomever deleted his or her comment, I didn't mean to not respond to you. Sometimes, I just miss people when I'm going down the comment page, but I usually catch my error later.

Tiffany said: " I have daydreams about moving there and being a cool hipster..."

Ha. They DO call my town "the Berkeley of the North." We get ten days a year of temps above 90, but the climate is quite moderate most of the time, winter and summer. Snow here is unusual, but you can see it in the hills around town. Skiing is only a 80 minute drive in one direction, and the coast is even less in the other. If, on the other hand, you prefer the desert, you can be where trees don't grow in under two hours.

Marion said: "I wanted to shoot MYSELF after reading about his sorry existence!!"

If you had, I trust you would have given me the credit! Then I would have undertaken a huge advertising campaign in which I dared people to read my blog and live. This would appeal to a certain element who could be trusted to comment, if for no other reason than to let me know they had taken my challenge and survived. I would have also said a lot of nice things about you, and renamed my blog in your honor. It would have been great, but I forgive you for spoiling everything.

Bipolar Diva said: "I am SO glad that I'm not the only one that thinks that they just might decide to jump, or throw hot coffee!"

DID you think that before you read this post?

Marion said: "Just the ability to use my under-worked muscles makes me very happy!"

I have become so weak that I have to remind myself not to do various things lest I pull a muscle or something!

Snowbrush said...

The Tusk said: "When I hit submit, I recieved in return URL to long and it wiped the post clean."

I have been having that problem too (as has Dana--see below), but--for various reasons--I learned in the past to copy before I hit publish. Of course, sometimes I either forget to do so, or I just don't take the time, but I've been bitten this way enough that such occasions are rare.

The Tusk said: "this is what Snowbrush is doing to me on purpose."

You overestimate my technical abilities, but I wouldn't do such a thing even if I knew how. I actually don't mind long comments. Someone complained that I was too wordy on HIS blog because my comment was longer than his entire post! I was hurt by this because I had the stupid notion that I had honored him by taking his thoughts seriously enough to put a lot of thought into. I generally just write until I feel like I'm done, and I'm fine with other people doing the same unless they don't give any indication that they even read my post.

Crazed Mom said: " I did not have a dominent hand."

Peggy is that way. She allocates some tasks to one hand and some tasks to the other. If it has ever been a problem for her, I don't know of it. When my right hand was in a sling following my first surgery, I had to use my left one for almost everything. I had imagined that I would get better at it faster than I actually did.

Crazed Mom said: "not all nursing homes are like that."

Don't you need a lot of money for that kind? Doyd is broke.

Dana said: "snow: did you get my comment? Google said it was too large to print."

I got what I assume was the comment you mean. Tusk (above) and I have been having similar problems, but the comments seem to be going through despite the message.

I was shocked that you are so low. I will come over and visit your blog soon. I promise.

Snowbrush said...

Kylie said: "why would there be something i want from you?"

Ah ha! You answered my question with a question. WHAT is the meaning of that? Seriously, I had understood (mistakenly, it seems) that you were disappointed in me, so, genius that I am, it didn't take more than a few hours to conclude that maybe you had expected something different than what you had received.

All Consuming said...

I absolutely LOVE it that you dig holes for the sheer pleasure of it. That’s excellent stuff.

I completely agree about Doyd the poor sod.

And there’s something else we have in common. My fear of heights is completely tied up with knowing I may chuck myself off the edge! There’s a lovely place called Windgather Rocks I’ve been to a few times. It’s a set of cliffs. There’s a wee gentle path you can climb round the side to get up there. And every single time I have to lie down flat about 6 feet from the edge and inch my way forward to look over at the view. As for the throwing coffee, yup, with you, I’ve also had the irrational urge to throw babies at people. I’m a nut too.

When I went up the Eiffel Tower I didn’t think it through at all. Tis a glass lift. As it rose I got lower and lower down until I was pretty much lying down on the floor of the lift. I’d been convinced to do it by friends. The silver lining is that when we got to the top fog and rain appeared and you couldn’t see anything further than about 4 foot in front of you. So there’s a photo of me grinning away at the top of the Eiffel Tower whilst all the other folks are muttering and cursing about me.

Hubby and I have agreed we’d rather have a suicide pact than be separated and put into old folks homes. They do that sometimes over here, separate people who have been married for YEARS. It’s disgusting. And should either one of us survive the other before then, though I have to say I’d be more likely to just follow him if twas the case, I’m staying in my house by hook or by crook. People are mistreated horribly in care homes over here they can sod off if they think I’m going in one.

Big hogging comment here, crikey. Very impressed with your climbing and activity, it’s bloody brilliant. Like me, you know the risks of overdoing it, but you’re all grown up and can handle it.

Fond wishes, Michelle xxx

Diana said...

I was a receptionist in a large funeral home in Chicago. A very, interesting job. And I did get to see a few embalmings,again, VERY interesting. I am amazed that you were able to fly with your fear of heights as my husband has the same fear! I would think that must have been terrifying for you Snow.
Try not to overdo with your shoulder although I completely get it. I overdo with my knee all the time. I hate sitting still.
I am so envious of your weather, it sounds perfect for me.
Love Di ♥

Snowbrush said...


First, someone's comment got deleted before I ever read it. I tried to click on it to read it, and I got an error message. I tried again, and got the same. I then reopened the page, and the comment wasn't there. I AM SO SORRY.

Second, readers are getting messages saying that their comments are too long, yet those same comments ARE being published. Tusk, poor man, actually re-wrote his comment because of such a message, so please take note.

All Consuming said: "My fear of heights is completely tied up with knowing I may chuck myself off the edge!"

I read an entire book about jumpers at Beachey Head, but why oh why would you jump when you've got a truckload of pills and liquor??? I would do almost anything before I would jump to my death. Drink Drano. Lie on a train track. Set myself afire. Well, maybe I WOULD jump before I would do at least two of these things.

All Consuming said: "I’ve also had the irrational urge to throw babies at people."

Bagels? Maybe they wouldn't mind being hit by bagels terribly much--unless they were really hungry. Maybe they would even throw them back at you, and the whole restaurant would erupt in a fun bagel fight. Oh, you said babies. Same thing, pretty much.

Diana said: "I did get to see a few embalmings"

I started at age 18 and got to see both an embalming and an autopsy my first day (autopsies were done in the local funeral home). I could LOOK at anything, but odors would sometimes get to me.

Snowbrush said...

P.S. Silly me. Blogger DID publish the comment that I thought was lost--and never got to read much less approve--but it appeared in response to my last post. Blogger is nutso lately.

Unknown said...

Thank you, Snow, for stopping by my blog and commenting. I'm here to return the favor.

I think I could use a few ounces of vodka myself right now....and I love the loose, rambling style of your post. I suffer when I blog because I tend to feel as if I have to make a point. I get frustrated easily. I don't have the right words.

It sounds like you've led quite the life---from an undertaker all the way out to Oregon now. I visited Oregon once. My BFF from college....her parents have a place in SIsters. They took me skiing on Mt. Bachelor (my first and probably last experience on skis) and it was fun, but scary....but I admit I'd enjoy the NEVER HOT weather there.

I am a displaced native New Orleanian. I live in Kansas now b/c my hubs is from here....

Nice to "meet" you, going to follow now!

Happy 4th of July!

Unknown said...

p.s. i recently bought a compost tumbler and am trying to get the hang of it. i love your burial concept, however and sounds a lot easier. I've been stressing about how my compost is going. lol.

Kerry said...

Besides the cool climate another good reason to live in Oregon is the right-to-die law; maybe Doyd isn't ill enough to evoke this right? For all of the hoopla this law has caused, I guess very few Oregonians actually make use of it.
Trimming trees like that is a real skill; where'd you learn it? Not by being an undertaker, that's for sure!

Linda@VS said...

I always find your blog interesting, but this one was enlightening as well! Who knew there were so many of us who have irrational fears of taking totally ridiculous actions? Rhymeswithplague said, "'What if the car suddenly swerved and went off the bridge and plunged into the water/railroad track/traffic below?'" and I even have to grip the wheel tightly to keep the thing on course." Exactly!

Lorraina wrote of feeling like a magnet is pulling her, and I totally understand that. When we lived in Florida, we fished a lot. I'm a non-swimmer, but I never worried about the water if I could stand in the shallows or sit on a bank to fish. But if we ever walked out on a pier? OMG, it felt like there were magnets on both sides competing to pull me off into the water. I had to focus on staying exactly in the middle of the pier to foil the dreaded oceanic magnets.

You wrote that this kind of thinking is a symptom of acrophobia, but does it have a name of its own? I'm not particularly afraid of heights, so I'm wondering if this is some kind of stand-alone craziness or if it attaches itself to whatever kind of phobia might be available.

Snowbrush said...

Erin said: "I am a displaced native New Orleanian..."

I'm from south Mississippi--due north of New Orleans. I moved here in 1986 at age 37.

Erin said: "i love your burial concept"

I compost above ground too--in large wire enclosures--but I don't turn my compost very often, so rather than have the backyard full of wire enclosures, I bury some of it.

Kerry said: "Trimming trees like that is a real skill; where'd you learn it?"

From books. I prune a large pear tree and a large apple tree along with various shrubs annually. Tackling the Ponderosa was pruning on a different level though, and I worried that I might kill it, but it never showed any signs of stress. They're mostly a dry-land tree (making them eastern Oregon's major timber tree) than a Willamette Valley tree, but they do well here where planted. Peggy was opposed to pruning the tree (regardless of who did it), but I overruled her because those big limbs can be extremely dangerous in an ice storm, and the tree had gotten to be 85 feet tall and a mere eight feet from our house.

Velvet Sacks said: "You wrote that this kind of thinking is a symptom of acrophobia, but does it have a name of its own?"

I tried to look it up, but I had no luck. One site stated that the fear of acting irrationally is a symptom of OCD, which I'm sure I have a tendency toward as do some of those who commented, I would guess. The "Diagnostic Standards Manual" just gets bigger all the time as additional ways to be neurotic or psychotic are "discovered."

Snowbrush said...

Oops, I forgot to address part of Kerry's comment.

Kerry said: "another good reason to live in Oregon is the right-to-die law..."

YES! Doyd wouldn't do that though due to his conservative religious values if nothing else. Also, I'm not sure he would be eligible. I assume his breathlessness is the result of congestive heart failure (he wouldn't know so there's no point in me asking) because he has gotten better. This probably means that they've got him on a diuretic. If my guesses are correct, he might have a rather positive prognosis given his advanced age, whereas the Assisted Suicide Law only applies if you have a terminal illness that is likely to kill you within six months.

RNSANE said...

I'm glad you were able to get out today and hike. I can't believe you did six miles. That amazes me. I can't even make it a mile.
But I can drink more than two ounces of vodka. In fact, I may just go pour myself a drink right now...with a little lychee liquor added and I'll make a toast to your and your wonderful writiing which I always enjoy so much.

I finally am done with my post-hospital ten day course of antibiotics and it looks like my cellulitis is finally cleared up.

Hope you're feeling a bit better, Snow.

Putz said...

i have a true story about tree trimming>>>>just today i finally put doug's tall ladder away>>>so here is the story ,2 days ago i decided to top mt pine tree>>>>i thought and still do think, i have killedthe top by not watering enough, so i lad up the whole tree with miracle grow and water the jhell out of it>>>>welll wether or not it has hlped the top is dead>>>so i get out my small latter and a saw which i rig on the end of a pole to saw>>>well it din't work so i cleverly rig a long extension wit a long rope that when you pull it snaps the tree where you want>>>didn't work o i get my neighbor's tall ladder and trim the very top but got the wrong thing since it was not dead and the rest of the top is>>>>so i plant the top and water the hell out of that and while i still want another 2 feet gopne, i have not the strenght to do it, and my neighbor said "well when is that ladder coming back" so i thought the hell to you and took it back immediately in the midst of my total failure>>>>i think thatis why the tree trimming boys get big bucks< what do you think, snow????????????????

nollyposh said...

Ahhhh and THAT's what i love aboucha Snow you're a dare~devil and a truth~monga... Tee! Hee! i love the way you verbalize thoughts that most of us would refrain from for fear of being judged... i too have unusual thoughts like that and used to think that maybe the family *MAD* gene may have been activated until my children (and their friends) turned into teenagers and started talking *CRAZY* too, like it was ~normal~ even! So maybe everything is relative and that a little *crazy~thinking~ is probably in actual fact quite NoRmAL! X:-/
...i understand how you feel about helplessness though, while going through chemo it was the hardest thing for me to allow others to take care of the things that were usually my job to do... So go easy on yourself Snow...
Oh and (Ps) LOVE that you were once an Undertaker (Have you told us that before? You probably have!)An Undertaker with a sense of the bizarre, what a wonderful combination! X;-)

Snowbrush said...

Putz, my twenty foot ladder wouldn't reach the first limb of my Ponderosa, so I placed it atop a platform that I placed across saw horses. After using that contraption for a while, I made a wooden sleeve that the fully extended ladder could nestle down into, and that I could climb to reach the bottom of the extension ladder. This time, I hope to use ropes all the way so that i won't even need a ladder. I too have used a saw on a long pole as well as a lopper on a long pole. My limbs are much bigger than you might realize from the photo (which was made from two houses away), and I have to cut them up and use ropes to lower them.

Nollyposh said: "i love the way you verbalize thoughts that most of us would refrain from for fear of being judged..."

Huh? Do you mean to imply that I say non-normal shit that might blow people away???!!! WHOA, MIss Posh! Good golly, Miss Nolly! I had no idea. I thought I was the very epitome of sane, rational, and normal. Matter of fact, I worried that i might be SO NORMAL that people might think I was abnormally normal. Matter of fact, I thought I've been losing readers because they were intimidated by my exceeding normality. Guess you cured me of THAT delusion. Now that I know I'm nutty as a fruitcake, I guess I'll pour myself a glass to vanilla flavored soymilk.

I THINK I've mentioned being an undertaker. I've also been a phlebotomist, an ambulance driver, a respiratory therapy technician, a handyman, a carpenter, a retail store clerk, an elementary school teacher, and a few other things.

kylie said...

snow, you are nowhere near normal

rhymeswithplague said...

Back away from the keyboard...

Unknown said...

LOL, Snow, I see you're back in great form... telling it all like it really is and what you're truly thinking... and I really love it!
As you know, I've been away a looong time so won't pretend that I know what's going on with you but as always, I love reading your post(s) and so pleased to see YOU back with us.


Vagabonde said...

You are lucky to be able to dig in your yard. Here the dirt is hard red clay and I believe they filled the yard with rocks when they built the house. You can dig for an hour and after going 1 or 2 inches, you find rocks as big as a dog.
One thing – Google has been having problems. Yesterday I placed a comment on a blog and it would not take, so I repeated 3 times, then suddenly all four identical comments were published. My friend has lost about 8 comments and another could not publish hers.
Your friend Doyd made me think about the book “One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” Have you read it?

Rita said...

I talked to a Doctor once about my obtrusive unwanted & morbid thoughts. He told me #1. it was not uncommon, normal even & #2. in all his years, he'd never seen anyone act on a bizarre random impulse.(Of course we aren't talking about people who have Tourette syndrome or other disorders). Furthermore the fact that I worried about it proved I'd never act on it. Surprisingly, that conversation pretty much cured me. I still occasionally have the bizarre random thought but I ignore it.

Not wanting to live in pain is normal. What amazes me is the will of some human beings to live in the face of unspeakable horrors. Also, how the physical body can hang on until the last breath.

Bernie said...

With all that you are doing Snow you must be feeling better. So glad your pain is not as bad.
You are a bit shattered, many thoughts happening here, I enjoy you when you are consistent even when it is about a subject you and I don't agree on.....have a great weekend......:-) Hugs

nollyposh said...

(Ps)i only have 'nutty' friends (i find them soothing)... You/they are afteral a reflection of myself! i bet you were an amazing teacher! X:-)

C Woods said...

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry while reading this post. I applaud you for trying to camp since it used to be a pleasurable experience for you, but, gees, all those drugs, pains, imaginary ants! Yikes!

I remember being on a girl-scout hike one time and sleeping in a sleeping bag on some grass and some little buzzing thing annoying me all night. I kept putting my head inside the bag to avoid it, then coming up for air, afraid I was suffocating in there. I didn't sleep all night. I can't imagine thinking ants were crawling all over me. I don't dislike insects ---I just prefer that real (or imaginary) ones aren't crawling on me.