In my career as a martial artist I have had many different injuries. I have jammed toes and fingers, broken knuckles, broken my nose, dislocated my elbow, and torn the medial collateral ligament in my right knee. Not to mention countless contusions and bruises. However, last evening I added a new “injury” to my list of martial arts related boo-boos: sunburn. Sort of adds a whole new meaning to the term sun block.
The kendo club I’ve joined is an aozora (blue sky) dojo, meaning they practice out-of-doors. At the start of practice last night we were fully in the evening sun, with temperatures hovering around the 90 - 95 degree mark. Warming up was quick given the air temps. I didn’t get a bad burn, but I did notice some color on my forehead and ears that wasn’t there before. Also my arms and legs (which were uncovered as I don’t have my keikogi and hakama yet) are sporting a little tan today.
Practice itself was good; in addition to the usual cutting exercises we learned a simple wrap technique to move the opponents shinia out of position. Using a circular motion with the right hand it was easy to parry aside the other’s shinai. Following that we added a riposte (quick return thrust following a parry). All in all it was a good class and I enjoyed myself. This morning I am less sore than I was following Saturday’s workout; I’ve taking the first steps towards regaining some physical conditioning.
I started out to write a posting about needing a vacation. I was going to talk about the types of vacations I’ve had in the past, and how I find time by myself without structure difficult right now. As I re-read what I had writing it sounded like just so much bullshit to me.
I don’t need a vacation. I need a week or so without any stress. I need time without the weight of my grief bearing me down. I need time without the fear of my cellphone ringing only to bring me the news of my mother’s impending death. I need time without the stress of work and a completely irrational deadline. I need time without world events, bills to pay, or other people.
In short I need a week of suspended animation. I just want to go somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I can’t be bothered or stressed, and just be for a while. No thoughts, no emotions, no physical pain or discomfort. Just floating on a calm sea with no worries or intrusions. When I was a kid I saw a play called “Stop the World! I Want to Get Off!” I have no idea what it was about anymore, but I can empathize with the title. Stop the world, just for a bit, I want to get off.
Unfortunately I’m not likely to get a break from any of the aggravations in my life for some time to come.
Sigh.
Fargo is a masterpiece. Darkly funny, wickedly insightful in to the minds of midwesterners, and richly deserving of the nominations and awards it received.
Rating: Should be in every DVD collection.
My father called me this evening. He is now faced with some brutally difficult decisions regarding my mom. She is weak enough now that she is no longer able to stand or walk. Getting from her bed to the bathroom is extremely difficult, and my father is afraid that it is rapidly becoming more than he can handle. He called so that he could voice what he thought were the options out loud, before asking the hospice nurse tomorrow what options they could provide.
I agreed with his assessment of the situation and tried to bolster his morale as much as I could. The last eighteen months have taken their toll on him, and the last six weeks have really worn him down. I know that he only wants to do what is right for her, and that he would (and will) do anything for her. The reality is that she is fast approaching the point in time where he can’t help her safely anymore. And it maybe that this Rubicon has already been reached. Several weeks ago, as her decline really started she made him promise that she would die at home. As he put it that was a promise made to be broken.
Her periods of disorientation are increasing, and some of the things she says now are barbed so he is dealing with conflicted emotions. Intellectually he knows what is going on, but emotionally this is proving to be very trying. As I said in a earlier posting, I can see now why the survivor often doesn’t last very long; caring for the first to die wears them out and leaves them dangerously vulnerable.
I don’t know if she will be placed in hospice for the final days of her life, or if he’ll admit her to the hospital for a couple of days to give himself a chance to recover a bit. Or maybe hospice will have a way to ease his burden of caring for her at home. Unimaginably tough decisions to have to make.
Over the Memorial Day weekend I will be traveling to Illinois once again. Already the anticipation of what I will find there is leaving a knot of anxiety in my stomach. I don’t want to go; I don’t want to see my mom suffering or delusional. But my sense of integrity and character demands that I go, for it is the right thing to do.
To quote my father from a phone conversation I had with him early Saturday morning, “things have come to a pretty underpass.” It seems the my mom has less and less of a grip on reality, or at least her grip is some what fluid. During the night Friday she was up for several hours and wandered through the entire house looking for my dad. Even the basement which is hard to believe given her current diminished physical state. On a previous occasion she forced herself to stay up all night because she was afraid that my father was going to kill her in the night, when actually what he was going to do was administer pain medicine on a schedule, rather than wait for the morning.
Frequently she asks when are they going home, or how long are they going to stay at this place. She always possessed a dry sense of humor and so it is hard at times for my father to tell when she is kidding about “does this floor have Pepsi” and when she is not. I sense in him a growing despair as he is confronted again and again with the personality changes this disease is inflicting on his wife.
She has reacted to large amounts of some pain medicine in the past with hallucinations and nonsensical behavior. With this in mind they have been careful about increasing her dosages, however these latest episodes have come at a time when she wasn’t using as much pain killer. The visiting nurse has told my dad that her breaks with reality are an indication of the disease spreading.
Hospice gave my father a list of services he could call, and he did contact a night nurse who has spent the last two nights in the house with them. On Sunday he told me that it worked out far better than he ever hoped it would. Not only was he able to sleep more soundly, my mom was able to get some food in the night and had company while she was awake. When I talked to him Sunday his mood was greatly improved and he sounded far less tired. While the night nurse is hugely expensive (and not covered by insurance) I think it will be good for both of them.
Rating: Maybe Bruce Willis’ best movie
It seems with all the fuss over The da Vinci Code there are a slew of grail related books in the stores. The Last Templar is yet another take on the possible meaning of the grail, or at least the foundations of modern Christian theism. Not as polished as Labyrinth, and no where near as good as Dan Brown’s epic, but still and enjoyable read.
Rating: Don’t expect to see this in the theaters any time soon
Rating: Still one of my favorites
Predator II isn’t nearly as good as the original. The acting is a bit forced, and the whole “LA as a war zone” was way overdone.
Rating: Skip this one and go straight to AVP
Two of the television shows that both Michele and I loved to watch were Survivor and Amazing Race. I watched the spring season of both shows this year, and while it was bittersweet at times, I’m glad I let myself have this enjoyment.
On Amazing Race this year the team I rooted for right from the beginning was BJ and Tyler, or “The Hippies” as the other teams called them. What made them my favorites was their sheer love of life. The approached everything with wide-eyed enthusiasm and joy, even when they were last twice and had to start the next leg of the race with no money and only the clothes on their back (leaving BJ bare foot) they were excited to still be in the race.
In short, they were the type of team that Michele would have rooted for and been thrilled to see win. She had a hard time watching these types of shows sometimes, especially when teams that were cruder or nastier were winning. This season had its share of reversals and twists, but ultimately the team that was the nicest, and most deserving, won.
This one was for you Sweetie-pie.