The last several weeks have been somewhat eventful.
Part of my tongue went numb five weeks ago this evening, August 2. It was probably a TIA, transient ischemic attack: a stroke, the sort that doesn’t do permanent damage. As far as medicos could tell, anyway.
Staying up that night left me seriously short on sleep. Knowing what could have gone wrong didn’t help.
Neither did wondering if there was damage: minor enough to get missed, big enough to affect some function. I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. I’ve tried writing and some graphics work, and done about as well as I’d expect under the circumstances.
That one’s more difficult, since my plan is to think about and discuss why I’ve been so anxious over what was, objectively, a relatively minor medical event. And maybe why writing about it is so hard.
Last Sunday morning, September 2, I heard a loud “CLICK!” in my right knee. I could still walk after that, very carefully. The knee’s range of movement was fine, but it hurt. A lot. That’s kept me inside.
My wife, bless her heart, borrowed a walker for me; so moving around is easier. The pain is decreasing and I’ve found and corrected several bad habits in posture and position. Medical attention may be needed eventually, but I’m giving my efforts and time a chance first. Household medical expenses have been bad enough as it is.
Tuesday, September 4, my father-in-law wasn’t feeling well. My wife and #3 daughter were with him most of the day. Toward evening, a doctor and family friend stopped by. He determined that father-in-law’s oxygen level was well below safe levels.
My father-in-law was in the local hospital until late today. He’d been feeling better for a while, then not so much. Local doctors decided that he’d get better care in a more fully-equipped hospital.
He’s now in the St. Cloud facility, about an hour down the road. My wife and #3 daughter have been spreading the word among our family while I’m writing this, then talking with someone who knows him and us — and came here to talk.
While the father-in-law situation was happening, I learned that my wife plans to cut my hair. That’s not exactly a crisis, or even a problem. On the other hand, my hair is longer now than it’s ever been.
Having spent my teens in the 1960s without doing the conventional long-hair routine, I’ve enjoyed my post-midlife non-crisis.
After mentioning that, and my interest in getting a photo of my dubious accomplishment, #3 daughter took a photo. That’s it, at the start of this post.
None of this is the sort of crisis that’s international news, or fodder for a mini-series. But like I said, the last few weeks have been eventful.
Considering how long it’s been since I posted something, and how long it may be before I do again, letting you know what’s been happening seemed reasonable.
So does doing my usual link list of vaguely-related posts: