Archive for November 2014
Coming Home
Cyndie will be coming home from the hospital today! All the small rugs have been removed from the floors and I’ve cleaned away unnecessary clutter in preparation for her return. I’m heading to the hospital early and hope to have her home by noon. She’ll need to negotiate three steps to get into the house, but then she should have minimal hazards for life on our main floor. I haven’t been able to eliminate all hazards. For instance, Delilah will be so excited to see Cyndie that she will want to jump all over her.
I will be happy to have her home, but not quite as excited as Delilah. I had a couple of days of free sailing with Cyndie receiving full-time care at the hospital. With her home, I become the person responsible for her care, in addition to my other duties maintaining our property and tending to the animals. Luckily, I will have some occasional support from Cyndie’s mom and maybe even a home-healthcare nurse who can check on how the incision is healing.
Any amount of time I can safely be out of the house will now be spent constructing a couple of slow feeder boxes. Yesterday, I picked up the grates from “my welder.” They look just like what I was hoping to get. They should, since they were custom-built to my specifications.
At the rate the horses have been dumping hay all over the ground around the present feeders, I feel a strong urge to get these boxes built as quickly as possible. I sure hope my plan to scrounge enough wood for two boxes will work out.
For all those times I have saved leftover lumber at the end of a project, it would be nice to finally experience some justification for the practice, and actually find a productive use for it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Modern Miracle
I will admit to generally taking modern conveniences for granted, but I have a whole new respect for the modern miracle of joint replacement. 
Cyndie is looking great, just one day after having a bone in her leg sawed off and a metal rod forced into the end of it. Sure, she is experiencing residual discomfort, but she reports it as mainly feeling like tenderness of the muscles around her hip and pain from the incision.
I joined her for lunch yesterday and was able to witness her first session of occupational therapy. They are teaching her how to dress herself and move around while protecting the new hip, something she must do for the next 6 weeks of the healing process. No crossing the legs!
If a person decided to ignore every word I write here and just looked at the pictures, they would probably draw the wrong conclusion after seeing this image and the one of her upside down pickup truck, just one week apart.
Her physical therapist was rather shocked to hear of the recent rollover accident, when asking for Cyndie’s recent history.
Many thanks to all who have been sending us love from afar of late. Cyndie is absorbing it all and progressing wonderfully, just a day after completion of this miraculous modern medical procedure.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
All Good
The hip replacement surgery was a success! The only thing that I didn’t really think to plan for was the possibility that the surgeon would be held up with a prior case that went into overtime. Cyndie’s turn started about 2-hours late.
Unlike the incredible experience we had when we went to a different hospital to have arthroscopic surgery on this same hip joint, this time they whisked Cyndie away without me for the pre-op processing. I waited and waited in the lobby until almost the appointed time for her surgery, before they finally came back for me. It was ostensibly a moment for me to wish her well and send her on her way.
I was a little confused when the nurse then brought me a chair. I sat with Cyndie while she nodded off due to the prolonged wait while snuggled inside her Bair Paws forced-air warming gown. When I sensed there was some sort of holdup, I asked if we would have any warning when our case would be allowed to proceed. The nurse adjusted a monitor so that we could see it and pointed out the status icon for the surgery Cyndie’s doctor was involved in. It was a scalpel. When he finished, the icon would change to little stitches. Then they would ask Cyndie to use the bathroom one last time before wheeling her off to the operating room.
Minutes changed to hours. Lunchtime arrived. Eventually there were no other patients but Cyndie. I started receiving text messages from supporters asking how the surgery had gone. At 12:20 I finally saw the icon change from scalpel to stitches. When they ushered me out in order to wheel Cyndie away at 12:38 p.m., I found the waiting area empty. There wasn’t even a receptionist. Apparently they don’t schedule any afternoon surgeries.
I stepped out for lunch and then killed a couple of hours alone in the lobby, the last 30-minutes pacing, until the doctor came out to give me his report. No problems, very straightforward, old joint was in very bad shape, new hip is very stable. It’s all good!
I began to get a sense that he stays focused on his immediate contribution after he stated the procedure took 1.5 hours. Obviously, there was another hour of someone’s time in addition to his work. He then said they were moving her to recovery and would come get me in an hour. Over a half-hour after he said that, a nurse came and told me they had moved her to recovery now and it would be another hour before she would be ready for me to come back. Maybe the doc forgot about the time it takes to finish things after his work was done.
By this time, it was getting dusky outside and most of the professional folks had made their exit from the building for the day. If I had to wait another hour, it was going to make me really late for getting home to tend to our animals. The nurses bent their rules and let me come back to see Cyndie in recovery. She looked good, yet out of it, and in a fair amount of pain. All completely expected.
I made it home after dark and found all our animals safe. They were very happy to see me. Cyndie made it to her room in the hospital and her parents and a brother arrived to provide support. Her brother mentioned she was “coherent, but in and out.”
The doctor told me it was going to be too late by the time she got to her room, for a physical therapy session, but they would have her up first thing in the morning. I can hardly wait to see her walking again.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Waiting Day
This will be my waiting day. It’s the day when all the action happens, but all I can do is wait for it to be completed. My mind has been contemplating the possible ways our plan could be thwarted, and then either planning ways to avoid pitfalls or summoning thoughts of all the ways it will proceed flawlessly.
I will feed the horses, dog, and cat, and then put Delilah in her outdoor kennel for the day. We head out in rush-hour traffic for the hospital in the Twin Cities, and then I find ways to kill most of the day waiting for news from the doctor that Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery was a complete success.
Once that has happened, I leave Cyndie at the hospital with her family for support, and dash back to Wintervale to feed the horses and let Delilah out.
In a few days, I will bring her home and we’ll focus on recovery and rehabilitation. The next thing you know, she’ll be ridin’ horses or something. I’ll be happy just to see her walk pain-free again. That will be an incredible gift.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Finally Time
Today is the last day in our long countdown to Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery. This surgery is something that could have happened a long time ago. She was directed to try a variety of alternative treatments for the arthritic joint over the years, with the intent of delaying the inevitable artificial hip for as long as possible. None of them have been as effective as we would have liked.
The time has come.
It is interesting to observe the ever-determined woman working to execute her plan of organizing everything in her life in preparation for the weeks of recovery that lie ahead, while already being virtually incapacitated by the pain and suffering that currently limit her ability to function.
We’ve operated in the mode of her recovering from a surgical procedure enough times to pretty much know the drill now. I will need to do all the driving for her for probably 6-weeks. I become full-time dog walker, which isn’t a big change, as her ability to do that has declined over the days.
Delilah is beginning to reflect the change in primary care-giver by fixating on me more often than on Cyndie. Hopefully, that will reduce her tendency to jump up on Cyndie in search of affection during the recovery period. I’ll just need to stay on my guard as the target of that energy and be sure to get her outside at frequent intervals to run around and wear herself out.
Today she can be outside watching me clear the little bit of snow that fell yesterday. We got just enough to cover everything, but hardly enough to justify plowing. Still, it needs to be removed to keep surfaces clear and safely navigable. In a few days we’ll end up bringing Cyndie home from the hospital with a new hip.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
My Welder
I have wanted to buy a slow feeder for a method of providing the horses their hay for some time. The system we currently use allows them to eat it too fast, and they toss too much on the ground, which is a waste. Being such a relative newbie in the world of all things horse-related, I figured there should be a common tried-and-true method for slow hay feeding. A little research revealed there are a variety of solutions, many touting the benefits of allowing them to also eat in the more natural position of having their heads down, as if grazing on the ground.
There are several versions of a box that is about the size of a small bale, with a metal or plastic grid over the hay that the horses have to pull through. Watching videos of horses feeding through a grid show that the process ends up being very similar to their natural grazing process. Seems perfect for what we have in mind. Surprisingly, I didn’t find what I wanted readily available for purchase locally. In fact, when asking around, I received mostly blank stares, like they had no familiarity with a slow feeder. Really?
I decided to take a leap of faith and order online. One nice looking wood box was made out west, but wouldn’t ship to my region. I found a plastic one that looked like it came from Iowa and decided to give it a try. That site said they wouldn’t ship to a residence and suggested folks have it shipped to a feed store and pick it up there. Okay. I called our feed store in Ellsworth and got approval to have it shipped to them.
Oddly, after placing the order, I received no confirmation email. After a day, I grew suspicious and tried calling the phone number listed on the web site. I think it was an individual’s cell phone. I left a message. Never received a call back. I tried the email contact form on the web site. It didn’t work. I emailed directly to the address on the web site. No reply.
When weeks passed with no response, I contacted Paypal and initiated a dispute case. They give the seller a chance to reply to the complaint and settle the dispute. Apparently, they got no reply. I was credited the full amount.
Contemplating other options, I decided I might as well do it myself, like most of the other folks posting pictures had done. Building a box out of wood isn’t that big a deal. The key part is finding the metal grid. After a brief attempt to locate an industrial solution online, looking at manufacturers instead of retailers who don’t sell exactly what I want, I decided to ask my wise neighbor. He works at the auto body shop where our truck is currently being rehabilitated.
After he finished giving me that “blank stare” response to my description, he asked if I had talked to Gaylen. Who? Apparently, Gaylen is THE welder whom one talks to if they want something like this done here. I went for it. I’m all in.
I called Gaylen, raced home to draw a sketch with dimensions, grabbed an image off the web of what I was hoping to build, and drove to downtown Beldenville. Two bars and a post office, basically, with few houses either side of them. Take a left at the post office, then the first right after the bridge over the little creek, to the end of the driveway.
I have found the local Mecca of custom welding projects.
In the end, this may end up being a more expensive slow feeder than necessary, but I am investing in a relationship that could prove priceless to me in time. I like the thought of being able to say, “my welder,” like other people say, “my therapist” or “my lawyer.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Go
.
where do you go
to find a place
that is out of reach
past the setting sun
behind the things
that are easy to see
under the obvious
obscured by light
holding each secret
as if it would hurt
to let them all go
released to the wind
who knows what might transpire
or what rabid aftermath
would try to show up
unannounced
out of place
and chomping for a fight
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
New Normal
Wednesday brought a return to normalcy at Wintervale, as Cyndie ventured out in the rental car in the early morning hours and drove herself to work. A form of “getting back on that horse,” if you know what I mean. I don’t know what that was like for her, but her safe departure brought a return to the usual weekday routine for the animals and me at home. Although, it was ‘usual’ under the guise of our new normal which involves WINTERY weather!
The horses appear to have adopted seamlessly, and happily paw the ground in the back pasture to reveal grazing available that still interests them. Regardless, I have begun to increase the daily ration of hay that we put out in the paddock to assure they have access to all the fuel their bodies require to be comfortable in the cold temperatures.
I suppose I should probably increase my daily intake of peanut M&Ms to help my body beat the cold, as well.
I finally made it to the bottom of the pile of split wood that my very generous neighbor helped create, moving it all into the woodshed. Now the stack of logs remaining to be split stands out a little more. I was too busy with other priorities in my race to prepare for the impending snow last weekend, to accept his offer of returning to finish all the splitting.
Much of what’s left is little stuff that will be easy to do by hand, anyway. Not that that would have stopped him. I look forward to using my fancy Swedish Smart Splitter to split a few logs at a time, and working on getting that shed filled to capacity. Everything going in there now is for burning next winter. Right now we’ve got barely half the amount of seasoned wood I’d like to have available for burning this year.
Who knew winter would arrive so early?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Spin Happens
Ya know that theory I was jesting about yesterday? Well, it works from both directions. If you are under-prepared, that is when you will face situations that challenge your preparedness. Case in point: if you plan to use your pickup truck for commuting on the roadways during inclement weather, make sure you put some weight in the back to balance the vehicle and add traction to the rear wheels. If you don’t, the truck just might spin out on an icy patch of road and slide off the pavement, where the wheels can catch on the gravel of the shoulder and cause the truck to roll over.
Cyndie captured this on-the-scene cell phone image of the dramatic outcome.
Cyndie didn’t intentionally test that theory, but by making an unplanned decision to drive the Wintervale Ranch truck to work yesterday (since her car was in for service and she didn’t want to risk driving a rental car on the icy roads), she subjected herself to an incredible dose of adrenaline and tested her seat belt when the truck spun and slid across the oncoming lane, and off the pavement. As the truck reached the shoulder, sliding sideways, the wheels stopped and the momentum of the vehicle kept on going. Up and over it rolled, passenger door down, then over onto the roof, breaking the door window and smashing the windshield as the roof of the cab buckled.
Our illustrious hero dodged suffering any blows from impact, lucky that the truck missed a sign post as it moseyed past, and luckier still that there was no vehicle approaching from the north as she lost control.
Of course, I assumed she was probably going too fast for the conditions, until she described where the accident occurred. If that is as far as she had gotten in the time since she left the house, she must have been driving very slow. Plus, that spot is just after an intersection with a stoplight, and it is an uphill slope in the direction she was driving.
Cyndie is quick to state that the Good Samaritans who were driving immediately behind her witnessed the whole event and corroborated her claim to responding police officers that she wasn’t going fast at the time.
Spin happens.
Be careful out there. And, always wear a seat belt!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Theory Proved
Once again, we have added proof toward the theory that being prepared means you won’t find your preparations necessary. Our readiness obviously contributed to shifting the first major winter storm this year just far enough north that we didn’t end up receiving a plow-able amount of snow. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we didn’t face hazardous travel conditions. We received just enough sleet and freezing rain to make the road conditions downright dangerous. Heck, I almost suffered an adrenaline overdose just walking down to the barn, given how many times I slipped, causing my body to involuntarily panic in reaction.
I took Delilah for a walk around the property and spied plenty of tracks in the snow. Finally I can see what the heck she is reacting to when her nose picks up a scent and pulls her off course from the trail. We came across the foot prints of deer, squirrel, rabbit, cat, and probably raccoon, too. There were obvious soil disturbances from moles and a couple of well worn trails where mice left a snow-less path.
At one point on our walk, the woods burst to life with movement as we disrupted the largest flock of wild turkeys I have ever happened upon. Many took to the air, but plenty stayed on foot and made their way ahead of us to maintain a safe distance. I’m happy to report that Delilah didn’t over-react and pull my arm out of the socket in chase. She seemed a little perplexed with the sheer number of options, and after taking in the spectacle, I guess just decided it was too many from which to pick. Her nose went back to the ground and she carried on with her trail surveillance.
We walked up to the neighbor’s house to deliver a fresh-baked apple pie as a token of appreciation for the incredible effort of splitting firewood for me. I worked again this afternoon on moving more wood from the pile of recently split logs over to stacks in the woodshed, and still haven’t finished. My neighbor helped me split a lot of wood.
Delilah gladly accepted my offer to let her nap in the freshly tidied kennel while I worked. I think she adored the opportunity to be out in the fresh winter air. The horses weren’t so keen about staying out in the freezing rain. It is always fun to see how much they like coming inside the barn to get out of cold and wet weather.
What little snow we did receive created a good visual of the newly defined drainage swale through the pasture. Maybe the fact that we now have that feature in place will end up limiting the winter precipitation to an amount that the swale won’t be needed. Just a theory.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 