profkf's Blog

So begins a song by Jack Johnson, I’ve loved it since I first heard it years ago, and he did it “live from home” as part of the stream of the Kukua Festival the other day…“…in times like those, what will be will be, and so it goes…”

I find the most meaning in times like these, in the simplest turn of a phrase, a lyric, a picture. I am so incredibly jealous of poets and songwriters, those folks with an innate gift for telling a story, painting a picture, evoking a memory, sometimes joyful, sometimes sad, in very few words. In times like these, someone like me, who loves to talk, can only talk so much to his poor wife who is locked up with him and has heard all his stories over and over, and is also trying to keep her head above water and stay sane, so any story I might have that is not accompanied by some beautiful music would only be more a chore than a revelation or a moment of solace.

With the sun out today and the promise of more rotten weather over the next few days, I suited up and went for a run. I did what I always do, I complained about not wanting to go, but knowing it was for the good, My intent was about 20 minutes just to get it done. I turned from the driveway and was already stiff, and worried about my wind, then, as also always seems to happen, about 1/4 mile out, things got loose, my wind picked up (I do so miss the pre-Covid time where I was able to expel many mucous missiles and be completely clear of the seasonal allergies by the first 1/2 mile, now out of respect and caution, I don’t do that, even with no one around). I had the foresight to choose the Layla album as my musical companion today and that also helped. I ended up 4.04 miles later in under an hour (that is sssslllllooooowwww for most I know but for me it’s pretty damn good)   Here I am after the run….only passed a person once so didn’t need to pull up the SoNo swag buff more than that one time

It got me thinking about the changes from times like those….so for your enjoyment, or for your horror at what once was, here is a video of some changes over the past years (thanks in large part to some very talented doctors. These fine folks (two more big F’s: Figgie and Floch) gave me the tools to get from times like those to times like these…

https://animoto.com/play/OOyKXjdBXMDaqhdYT1UIQw

I also thought about how much I’m looking for the world to turn back to “normal” as in “what it was”….watching this video it also hit me that sometimes the “normal” of what was can be changed for the better, so maybe, just maybe, when we come out of this, and we will, (the light is already beginning to show a very small little) we need to take the best of what we got from this (an increase in kindness and consideration) and keep it at the forefront of how we treat each other for the long haul.

Most of the time, after work is done, there is not much different activity left. Music has been a constant and will remain so. Today, as the weather is pretty awful, rain, chilly, dreary, after grading the weekly work, I headed up to the treadmill (aka the “dreadmill”), about a year or so ago, I was looking to get rid of it since I was getting so much activity in outside: running, dog walking, golf, golf and more golf, no one seemed to want it even free so I still have it. Fast forward to now, and I don’t know what I’d do without it. It allows me to get work in every day regardless of the weather and maybe sometimes even in addition to getting out, beats the crap out of sitting in the recliner and reading my iPad! So, music….while on the dreadmill, I find it freeing to listen to music, it helps with running pace and simply distracting me from running to nowhere. I also try to go back and listen to things I’ve not listened to in a while, thus, today, I decided to revisit a 1994 album from Nanci Griffith: Flyer. I loved it when I first came upon it, but it has fallen off the radar recently. Listening to it I was reminded why I loved it. She paints beautiful pictures with her words, her voice is wonderful and the music also terrific. A few songs in began a song that could have been written about today, yet it is over 26 years old the title: A Time of Inconvenience some of the lyrics are as follows:

“I’m living in his time of inconvenience, At an inconvenient time

Well, at least if you are using it without connecting all the dots….If you’ve been following you’ve seen my post about having an unexpected allergic reaction to a drug I had last taken 5ish years ago. It seemed to me to be incredibly simple once I made the connection. There was no change in diet, no traveling (please…these days…traveling amounts to going to and from the back yard), no changes to anything, yet the sudden onset of an itchy, angry rash did happen. With the aid of the rabbit hole journey it was fairly quickly established by me that the only variable in this equation was the hypertension drug. Presented with the evidence (and some pictures) my primary care doc agreed and changed my Rx (the new on due to arrive today). Having stopped the drug I was expecting it to get better rapidly…yet, not so…, that led me to contact the Dermatologist for yet another tele med conference. We set it up for this morning, first thing, but yesterday she also asked that I upload as many pix as I could so she could get a better look at it ahead of time. When she saw the angry, red, pix she suggested, if I was ok with it, that she’d like to see me in person and perhaps biopsy it (that’s kinda scary). Still feeling very healthy, I had no problem going in, which I did this morning at 9:30. It was quite surreal as the usually bustling medical building was empty. The doctor met me at the locked door and in we went, all PPE’d up on both parts.

Having had multiple surgeries over the years, I have absolutely zero worry about undressing etc, so I simply dropped down to just utrow, said that if she didn’t mind I’d ignore the gown and sat on the table. Well, the reaction was immediate….”Hey, I don’t need to biopsy this, you have classic Poison Ivy!!!” She asked if I had been gardening, (NOPE, I don’t do that I have “people” who do that ) However, It did occur to me that given the current lack of other activity, I had purchased a grass whip to cut down some larger patches between lawn mowings just out of sheer boredom. Voilá, the connection was made….I must have taken a chunk of poison ivy up at some point, it must have hit me in the face or arms and then the spread began due to the scratching and perhaps smearing my face in my pillow. Now this Bronx boy would not know poison ivy if you gave him 12 pictures, (and still would likely be unable to identify it, even now) but I was relieved that it was something so simple. The downside, she did mention that it would likely take a good two weeks to go away entirely, but that I can manage (she did give me an Rx for a strong steroid cream that will take a few days to get here via mail, in the meantime, Benadryl and cortisone cream will suffice).

The lessons learned here are a few: 1. You can’t solve an equation till you have all the variables accounted for  2. Regardless of the research, leave the diagnoses to the professionals who are trained to do just that 3. If this world was not upside down, I would have simple walked into my primary doc’s office the first day this happened and likely he would seen the same thing and come to the same conclusion. 4. I’m now waiting to hear from the primary’s office about which of the two Rxs I should proceed with.

The good news: I didn’t suddenly develop some strange allergy. The bad news: Annoying, itchy rash…on balance, I’d say it’s a win!

Back in 1984, John Lennon released a song that really, with the blessings of hindsight, typifies today,  some of the lyrics go like this:

For those of us who have been around “awhile” (meaning pretty old) Million Dollar Movie and the aptly titled Picture for a Sunday Afternoon were a staple. Back in the days where there were very few options, these presented old movies on your TV…imagine that, being able to see movies at home, what an experience. Well, I thought I try to paint a picture for this Sunday afternoon, and I’ll start with the prologue from this morning.

I set my alarm for 5:45 and, of course, was up 15 minutes earlier (the old body clock still working). The goal was to take advantage of the “senior hour” to shop at Stew Leonard’s since, as mentioned above I’m friggin’ old so why not get out there and take advantage of that. Off I went, with my gloves and facemask and quite the list (which I had rewritten according to where the items were in the store, talk about being prepared!!). 6:05 AM pulled into the parking lot, not too many cars, but, frankly, more than I expected at that time (though I think the idea of Sunday, even in this timeless time, had something to do with that, some habits die hard and Sunday is always a busy day at Stew’s). I picked up about 15 sheets of disinfecting wipes to aid me in my trip and keep me from having to double down when I got home, and in I went. Everything I came for was there, as I went around the aisles, people being very nice about keeping distant, yet moving with purpose, no “lookie lous”. The only kerfuffle was when I got to the fish section they were just stocking it (remember they don’t fully open till 7 AM) and I was aghast that they didn’t have the shrimp that was one of the items Sue needed. Well, as luck would have it, my friend the fish monger asked why I looked perplexed and when I told him his answer was simple “I got you”…and out he came with a cart full of 2 lb bags of peeled and devained frozen shrimp that they were just about getting ready to put out. BOOM…next was the produce section where, again, all was there. Coming around the final turn was hand sanitizer and blessedly Clorox cleaning and disinfecting spray!!! again another unexpected but joyful find. Off to home in under an hour and then able to put things away, sit and enjoy my morning coffee and prepare for the highlight of every Sunday. Each Sunday, still in the morning, btw, from 10:00am till 1 PM is FMOdyssey with Fred Migliore. He broadcasts from a college station WFIT in Florida, and streams it on his website FMOdyssey.com and also WFIT.org streams it as well, for me, it’s my new best friend “Alexa play WFIT on TuneIn” (actually I have a routine programmed where I simply say “Alexa, Fred Time”). For those lucky enough to have grown up with WNEW-FM in the 70’s and 80’s, or just NY free form radio of all kinds, Fred is a welcome companion. It is impossible to do justice to the soul curing journey he takes you on for those 3 precious hours each week but in these times of turmoil it is more important than ever. Usually accompanying Fred are Bloody Marys, and often Sue’s incredible Eggs Benedict (today we opted to just keep the Bloodys and pass on the bennies). I spent the most delightful 3 hours (as usual) listening to the music, engrossed in the stories, listend to Fred make connections I was often unaware of and mostly going down various rabbit holes while listening, looking further into connections he was making.

While we were listening, we talked and made the decision to do something a bit “normal”, we drove to Greenwich Prime Meats (the Manero’s butchers shop) to get Salad, Onions, Garlic Bread and for Abbey THE dog, bones. This is where the Picture for a Sunday Afternoon really begins…I-95, the CT turnpike was eerily empty in both directions, so the “normal” activity we decided to do was colored by the sense of that (granted it was GREAT not sitting in traffic, but the cause was not so terrific). Sunday at GPM is usually busy…not so today, while they only allow three at a time in the store, there was only one other person inside when we got there at 1:40 pm and my order was filled immediately. After a brief detour to drop off some hand sanitizer and Clorox spray (remember the trip this morning) for some friends, home we came, things put away, and then a very calm hour and a half spent sitting in the sun and reading while Abbey THE dog was perched on her lounge watching over her back yard kingdom.

This has been a tumultuous week on many emotional levels (you’ll know why if you have been following), but I took a page from Fred’s opening words this morning and tried to find the light, The Picture for this Sunday Afternoon was calming and hopefully more than temporarily restorative.

Outtro…Picture for a Sunday Afternoon

I am currently at an emotional nadir. I’m apparently healthy (hard to tell, of course, without being tested, but there simply are not enough tests to go around and I blessedly remain free of any real physical symptoms), I know I’ve said this before but our home is comfortable, we have what we really need physically, I will go out in a few days to re up the groceries, and that, of course, always adds both risk and stress, but there simply is no delivery option right now other than take out food so I’ll mask up, glove up and do what I can to get it done. Both of us are physically doing well, I’m active, reading, listening to music, getting my ducks in a row for my return to remote teaching next week (Sue is working all this week as well). I took almost an hour walk with Abbey the dog today, will likely run tomorrow (inside if the weather does not cooperate), I’m not overeating, I’m limiting my alcohol a bit (though, frankly all I want to do is numb up all day). I’ve dropped the few pounds I put on at the beginning and then some. But…..

Back when I set out to do the bariatric surgery  that has helped me be healthier than I’ve been in decades, there was a prep period where adjusting to low calorie, then full liquid diet to reduce the fat around the liver was hard. The first few days it seemed easy, then there was a very dark period where it was torture and seemed like it would never end, especially since there was a post surgical adjustment where “real” food was two weeks away after the procedure and it was really five weeks before a return to “everyday” food. It seemed endless during the middle, got to the point where I actually considered packing it in and foregoing the surgery. Then the last day or two, there was the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel and it didn’t seem so bad. Finally, after surgery, there was physical recovery (for me incredibly easy) and a return week by week to reintroducing different foods. Now, five years later, it seems like it passed very quickly (and I am still incredibly grateful that I did it). I’ve tried to compare the current state of affairs to that. I’ve not been successful doing that. The surgery pre and post stuff had a clear beginning, middle and end, this does not. While I do believe it will end and “one day we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny” (likely not really funny, though), it does not seem like it right now. When I ran the SoNo Half Marathon in 2016, that, too, had the same joy at the start, (miles 1-3) then struggle (miles 3-7) then real significant cramping (miles 7-12) then elation from 12-13.1 but again, there was a measurable endpoint, something with each mile marker both posted on the road and floating by on my Run App, letting me know I was 1/2, then 3/4 then close to the end. Not so today.

Then there are the gut punches that seem to happen every day, the sudden notification that a friend for more than 50 years had suddenly succumbed to this monster, being notified that others you know are fighting it, some successfully others in imminent peril. Couple that with my own sense of mortality born of age, coupled with the danger of contracting this and maybe not being able to fight it off and days are filled with trying to ignore it then trying to make sure the things are put in “order” just in case, all the while not knowing. I realize that not one single day is ever promised, that accidents happen, that physical trauma can be instantaneous, but never is it the overriding story, the seemingly never ending story. There is not a single moment that even commercials don’t mention “The Virus”.  I’ve not seen my kids, my grandkids, my friends, the colleagues at school, I had a tele med visit with my Doctor yesterday to discuss my seemingly increasing blood pressure and it was very strange. I’m not young, not even middle age anymore, while there is currently no end in sight to this virus event, the event called “life” does have an endpoint, maybe not measurable but clearly with limited boundaries, and the intertwining of these two events adds much stress.

I have been through some seriously rough life events, but I cannot ever remember being so emotionally shot for so long. I do the best I can to ignore it most of the day, but the shank of the evening almost always brings it into full focus.

I guess this outlet is the best hope I have to both chronicle it for when it’s done so I can look back on it, and simultaneously use my fingers to get rid of it as best I can.

“Don’t let us get sick, don’t let us get old, don’t let us get stupid, all right?”  closing thought courtesy of Warren Zevon…