Things I cannot change…

With some space in my day, I am realizing that the effects of the March stroke are still quite profound at an inner level, not particularly available to the outside observer. I began to realize it while preparing for worship in Rimbey during the past week. I found it difficult to buckle down to do the work. The shortness of my attention span declared itself, as did my difficult with remaining focused on a task for more than a few minutes.

I had a similar, even more dramatic experience this weekend and the last few days as I attempted to write a column for the local newspaper. Normally, this task comes easily for me. This time, although I had an idea, putting it in comprehensible form was difficult. I whizzed through the first draft, and wisely gave it to Beatrix to read and edit. When she emailed it back to me, I was shocked at the typos, and even more shocked at the places where my ideas ran out of steam, or worse, tumbled into one another like falling ten pins.

I dealt with the typos easily enough, but when the second draft came back, the ideas and references were still confused in places. I’m on the fourth draft now, and I think the thin is coming together. I don’t believe it’s up to my usual standard, but as I am always encouraging Beatrix to say, “It’s good enough.”

Sobering for me to realize this lingering, perhaps permanent, defect in my brain functioning. Somehow, I think it is connected with my tendency to become internally annoyed about things. Up goes the blood pressure until I can calm down. And a lot of my annoyance is about my own inabilities and defects in functioning. I am considering having Diego tattoo a short saying on my left arm, a bit from the Serenity Prayer of AA. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.”

So the recovery process moves underground. Issues and concerns that wouldn’t be available to the public are starting to chew at me. Are these things I cannot change, I wonder? We’ll see.

Farewell to the bright lights!

It’s been a whirlwind few days. This past week was Angus and Emma’s final week with us, so there were many things to finish up. Last day of Emma’s work; final work on the yard renovation – Angus’s project. Finally, everything was done, and we sat looking at one another realizing that there was only one sleep left before the kids returned home. They were understandably excited: old friends, new school, folks they hadn’t seen for some weeks. On the other hand…

We were sinking into sadness. No more lively table conversations about…whatever. No more wry comments from Silent Sam (Angus) about whatever was happening. Movies watched without running commentary from Emma, along with reams of information that she knew and we didn’t about the movie business, and this particular movie.

This morning, the house was ominously quiet. No sleepy Emma arriving at the top of the stairs, half asleep, with a book in front of her face. No more Angus refusing breakfast until he woke up…usually ten minutes after he sat down, glassy eyed, at the table.

It is impossible in a few lines to share the significance to me of the residence of these two beautiful young people in our home. Not only are they grandchildren to me, but also young friends who are valued and enjoyed any time. Much of the time they were, my blood pressure was above the norm – high, you would call it – because I was engaged with exciting people. The only really anxious moments I experienced were during Emma’s driving practice sessions. This was not because of Emma’s skill or lack of it. She is developing into a good driver, and I watched her skills blossom with each outing. It was me, feeling anxious because I was responsible for the whole thing.

Learning to know Angus was a different challenge. He is often silent, explaining that he’d rather say things in a few words, and one time, rather than babble on. Early on I wondered if he was bored, or depressed. Hours would pass…not a word. Or perhaps he was mad at me, or unhappy with us generally. Emma assured me that this was “just Angus.” Then, one day, I took him for a long walk. Bam!

Walking opened Angus up. As we walked, he talked, and talked, sharing his ideas (some wise…and some kookie) as we travelled. We walked on two or three hot afternoons, and I learned a ton about this quiet and creative kid, my grandson.

My recovery continues apace. The stresses of child-presence were a good test for me. I survived; I loved it. As Emma would declare after each session of driving: “No carnage…no wreckage! I survived!”

Sunday musings…

The concrete work in and around the garage foundation is completed, and looks wonderful. I am beginning to work up enthusiasm for the Big Cleaning that will happen once I empty it out and hook up the power washer. 3300 lb/sq/in should lift and move just about everything, except perhaps the refrigerator!

           

In conversation with Bruce, I have figured that the yard work will start on Wednesday next – Aug. 21 – with fabric and mulch and two trees. Hopefully we can get this done before Angus leaves, so I can give him some more work money.

During the first part of the last week, I became aware that my Blood Pressure was much higher than previously – 10 to 20 points higher. I was worrying about it, which didn’t help. Then I realized that I was feeling perpetually anxious. The cause? Being responsible alone for feeding and care of the kids, and having to complete preparations for today’s worship in Rimbey. It came as a shock to me that worship preparation was stressing me. As I thought about it, I recalled that at Gaetz and at St. Andrew’s, I managed to stay at least one week ahead in preparation time. Since the stroke, with a shortened attention span, and less ability to focus my mental energy, it’s more difficult for me to get on the ball. I had thought I was leading worship n August 25, so when I discovered it would be the 18^th, I “lost” a week of prep time.

Realizing this, I simply sat down at the keyboard, and bashed out a sermon as quickly as I could, from the notes I had compiled. I noticed a steady decline in my BP values. My anxiety began to drain away. It’s amazing to me that external stress, like walking or working out in the water, daises my BP far less than internal or emotional stress, such as anxiety. I seem to have to keep learning this fact over and over again. Like a dunce.

I have discovered that going for a long walk with Angus is the best way to get him talking about the things he cares about. Over the last three days, we have walked between thirty and forty-five minutes each day. He talks almost non-stop, if given any encouragement. So I am learning about my grandson big time these days!

After today, I have no preparation work to do, so I can relax and get on with the yard stuff. Well, I’ll supervise – Angus and Bruce will do the work! I had a bright idea today: Bruce has all our leftover gravel, and I’m thinking that it might be a good idea to lift the rubber tiles of the back walk, put gravel under them, and cut one of the left over tiles to bring the walk up to the rear gate! Amazing: old brain with one new idea! More later…

August without Beatrix…

It’s been a more difficult week than I expected. Beatrix has been away since Monday, and in her absence I have felt more “burdened” with having the two grandchildren here. They have done nothing different from before, it’s just that I am more anxious about looking after them when I have no backup, IE, Beatrix. I’m afraid that I will forget something, or get too tired to deal with them appropriately (that happened only once). My blood pressure has been high all week, much higher than normal, even in the morning. A sign, I guess, that I’m feeling pressure.

The concrete work around the garage is finished, including a working drain – at last! Angus finished clearing the gravel from the back yard garden – a beautiful job, requiring a full day of heavy labour, and a second day of meticulous picking up. He’s been an invaluable resource. This would not have happened without him.  I got the Roundup down on the back, and will start the front lawn tomorrow. Bruce will come with the trees whenever he’s ready, and the finishing off of the front yard will then proceed.

I suppose this week, “recovery” means learning to live with additional pressure and anxiety without giving in to it. I have been sleeping well, walking 3-4 km each morning, working out in the pool three – five times weekly, including tough evenings in the deep pool alone, since no one else is showing up for class.

Angus and I went to the movies the other night. Saw “2Guns” – a shoot-em-up movie with Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg. The plot was thin, the acting brilliant and funny. Too many casual shootings to be comfortable – the gun culture just rocks on! But we had fun. We’ve picked Emma up each night at 10 or 11 o’clock. I think she appreciates it. She’s off to work this afternoon feeling not so good – headache – so we will definitely pick her up tonight. She’s off Monday and Tuesday. I have promised her some driving time tomorrow. I need to get a firm hand on next Sunday. I won’t have either PowerPoint or More Voices next week, and I’m feeling the loss a whole lot.

Recovery for this coming week will involve working on the deep breathing to bring my BP down before I take it. I have no external commitments this week, but do have to get the yard “Round-upped” for Bruce to continue. Let’s hope there is no rain!

Check-in time…

It’s been a while. Recovery has been far from my mind: the presence of two interesting and lively grandchildren has poured a new kind of “life” into me. Angus (14) and Emma (17) are here for three more weeks. Emma’s working at Tim’s; Angus if clearing gravel from our flower bed. This is a job my back just won’t allow me to do. He is doing a critical job for me.

These two are intelligent, articulate and knowledgeable. Talking with them is always a learning experience. With their parents (Caley and Joe) here for the weekend, the house was filled with enjoyment and chaos! Things will change drastically for me tomorrow, as Beatrix leaves for a much-needed vacation with her sister in Denver. I’m so glad I could persuade her to get out of town for two weeks! But…I will miss her terribly. Through this long winter and spring of illness and uncertainty, I have depended on her a great deal. I feel a bit anxious to be without her near for 14 days. However, it is imperative that she has a break before September. For me, being at home with the kids is vacation enough this year. They are such fun, and so incredibly interesting.

Today, we drove to Blue Sod Nursery and bought two trees for the yard; a white lilac and an ‘amur’ maple tree. I had fun digging out our pathetic and non-growing Linden tree to make room for the lilac. Bruce will hopefully dig out the front yard for the maple later this week.

The garage repair is finished, with a solid foundation and a door that won’t jam all winter. The man who built the house lied to us about this fault ten years ago. Everyone gave him such a personal build-up that we didn’t question his word. The fault was there from the start: a crack in the garage foundation, and an in complete central drain. No idea yet what all this is costing, but at least it is rectified. All this digging and gear-grinding about proper solutions to the problem was hard of my blood pressure sometimes but our contractor, Bruce Zimmerman, is not only competent, but a long thinker and a good, calm communicator. He’s been a joy to have around. Over the next few weeks, he’ll finish up the front yard work and help with the tree.

Over these busy weeks, my blood pressure has been a bit high each day, surprisingly high in the morning. I’m surmising that this is related to the back pain I experience upon starting to move at the beginning of each day. Once I get mobile, this settles down, at least until evening. I’ve begun taking my blood pressure later in the AM, after I eat, and loosen up. As my dad used to say, “Getting old is not for sissies.”

Enough for tonight. Soon to bed, and hopefully, to sleep. I’ll be in touch again before the week is out.