Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Who’s Boss
These days I’m on my own in tending to the horses and we have added a third feeding at mid-day to their routine. As a result, I am singularly tasked with managing two different serving sizes among the four horses. The general routine we have tried to maintain has involved closing the upper gates temporarily to break them into pairings of Light and Mia on the left and Swings and Mix on the right.
Oftentimes, they arrange themselves perfectly after they see us coming, but not always. Although, even if they start in the desired positions, it is pretty common for at least one of them to decide they need to go check on the other pan on their side, just in case it tastes better.
Or something like that. It would not be beyond them to also be flaunting a little dominance when they are feeling it.
The last couple of days I have taken to showing the interlopers that I am the boss of all of them. For example, Mix eats slower and gets served a larger portion than Swings. When Swings decides it’s time to saunter over and nudge Mix off her pan, I have been taking the pan away from Swings and serving it back to Mix, holding it while she tries to finish.
There can be one or two more maneuvers that transpire but it seemed to me yesterday that Swings was starting to recognize my intent and accept it without protest.
When circumstance has allowed, I have also experimented with changing who gets paired or switching to three horses on one side and one horse on the other. Since Mix and Mia both get the same-sized portion of feed, I like having them together on one side. Then I don’t have to care if any of the four try to switch.
We grant these horses so much autonomy that it is refreshing to occasionally brandish my authority with enough clarity that they have no reasons to doubt who the boss is when Cyndie and/or I show up.
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For The Record: Lest there be any confusion resulting from the fact our home is located in Wisconsin, *this* John W. Hays is now and always has been a Minnesota Vikings guy. Sometimes I have been inclined to whisper that fact instead of showing it off proudly. After a performance like the one yesterday against NFL’s second-ranked Buffalo Bills, where the Vikings came from behind and then survived an overtime battle culminating in an endzone interception to win 33–30, I just wanted to make sure nobody was mistaking me for a Green Bay Packer backer. Especially since I couldn’t bear to watch the last drive in overtime by Buffalo and took Delilah for a walk and fed the horses.
[silly grin]
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Outwaiting Inevitable
And there go the last 14 hours. Gone. It would have been nice to sleep through some of them. Okay, I’m exaggerating. I slept a couple hours at a time, twice. In between, I was standing out in the yard holding Delilah’s leash while she searched for grass long enough to chew and swallow.
The moon looked pretty cool through the clouds at 2 a.m. I didn’t see it at 5 a.m.
I was desperately hoping for vomit, but that never happened. At least, not yet. Hers, not mine.
For whatever reason, her symptoms are hinting that all is not right yet, but not manifesting in any obvious drastic changes. Is her throwing up inevitable? Time will tell.
I continue to keep one eye on her, one eye on Cyndie, and one eye on her mom when she needs help in the kitchen. It’s got me feeling a little crosseyed at times, but I can wait out the chaos with my sights set on the day when Cyndie’s bones have healed enough for supporting weight.
Is it inevitable that they will heal? I sure hope so.
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Like November
It’s beginning to feel a lot like… November. Finally. The temperature stayed below freezing all day yesterday and we experienced a misty drizzle that created a shiny frozen glaze over surfaces.
The upper area of the paddocks just beyond the overhang had become a sloppy, muddy mess after the recent rains. Now it has become the classic ankle-twisting gnarled and knobbly frozen surface that makes cleaning up piles of manure an exercise in futility. It completely stymies my desire for impeccable cleanliness in the area where the horses linger longest.
This morning on our walk, Delilah and I enjoyed a little visit with the cows who seemed particularly curious about our arrival at the corner where our properties meet. I don’t know much about cows, but it got me wondering about how they view the world of wild animals that travel these acres in comparison to their confined domestic status.
It probably isn’t very different from the experience of our horses, but the horses give off an aura of awareness that the cows appear to lack.
After Delilah’s vet visit yesterday, we have her on a strict bland diet of rice and meat and are giving her some anti-nausea medication to see if her stomach can regain its control in keeping contents contained.
I am extremely grateful to have not needed to clean up vomit for more than a day. Here’s hoping for two in a row.
Cyndie’s mom came over yesterday and spent the night offering her help in kitchen patrol. Our kitchen is not optimized for her methods so she is sounding just as taxed as I do when I pretend to cook for Cyndie, and I know where most things are stored and how our appliances work.
I’ve become chief fireplace officer and video entertainment system tech.
Pain management appears under control for Cyndie now and she is doing her best from the confines of her recliner to advise on the location of searched-for items, hoping to stay ahead of Marie’s and my frustrations as we do the caretaking of the caretaker.
Not that I’m counting, but only 8-weeks to go before Cyndie can start putting weight on her right foot again.
By then, November will be a distant memory.
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Managing Meds
When I walked into the hospital yesterday around 11:30 a.m., the temperature outside was 69°F. When Cyndie and I departed from the hospital around 3:00 p.m., it was 51°F. Somewhere between those two times, I made my way to the pharmacy within the hospital to pick up the medications prescribed by the doctors. There were seven of them. They barely fit into the bag. The clerk needed to walk around the plexiglass pass-through barrier to a half-door on the side to hand it to me.
I don’t remember this many drugs involved in Cyndie’s recovery from joint replacement surgeries.
Apparently, surgery for shattered bones is more painful than those for artificial joints. Speaking of pain, this go-round for Cyndie has been difficult to witness. The efforts of hospital staff to control her pain produced less-than-ideal results.
There are advantages and disadvantages to recovering in the hospital. One big advantage is that drugs can be administered by IV, which is faster acting. Some disadvantages experienced by Cyndie included understaffing and limited resources. The nurses are stretched beyond their limits to care for all the patients and oxygenation monitors needed to be shared among rooms. They didn’t have enough cold packs to keep them frozen between uses.
They also can’t give non-prescription meds which become a great augmentation of pain control once home, interlacing Tylenol or Ibuprofen between doses of the narcotics.
Getting home allowed us to fill the gaps that Cyndie faced in the hospital.
It also means I become the one responsible to make sure the narcotics don’t slow her breathing so much she doesn’t get enough oxygen.
No pressure there.
We created a chart to help us know when it’s time for the next dose of each. Now if we could studiously record when scheduled meds have actually been taken, that’d be just great.
Regarding my other patient, Delilah’s vomiting continues. We attained a vet appointment for this afternoon. I sure hope it doesn’t result in more prescription medications.
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Two Patients
That was one heck of a day, yesterday. It turns out that I have two patients to take care of because, in addition to Cyndie recuperating from her surgery, Delilah is experiencing a problem with continued vomiting.
Delilah’s condition isn’t too concerning at this point because she is regularly drinking water, pooping healthy, and is full of her typical spunk at normal times. It is, however, inconvenient to have her making disgusting messes unexpectedly at the worst times possible.
We can’t rule out stress as a possible contributing factor but there is also a possibility we have a bad batch of food or she could be developing an allergy to an ingredient.
I’m pretty sure Delilah doesn’t grasp the concept but I have her fasting for a while in an attempt to disrupt the troublesome routine she has fallen into. Then I will need to decide what food I will start testing to see if we can solve whatever is ailing her.
Tuesday night didn’t start out well for her because the thunderstorm we endured was quite dramatic with booms of thunder that shook the house. She was having a fit in her overnight crate trying to bark back the storm that wasn’t letting up. I tried staying up late with her to give some support but that didn’t seem to ease her distress much.
After a few-too-few hours of sound sleep, I was woken by Cyndie at 3 a.m. because she could hear Delilah throwing up. With her splinted leg propped up on pillows, Cyndie couldn’t do anything about it.
Last night, Delilah threw up again, just before dinner time. I was in the middle of cooking my own dinner and manning the phone tree of contacts with reports on Cyndie’s status. The doctor had called me to say everything went well and there were no complications. It was time to walk Delilah and tend to the horses but I was waiting for a sitter to show up and take care of those tasks.
I put Delilah on a leash in the front yard, tossed paper towels over the mess in the front entryway, answered my phone, and turned over fish fillets baking in the oven.
I thought last night was going to be a moment of rest while Cyndie was tended to by professionals. Nope. Forgot about the other patient here needing TLC.
At least Delilah doesn’t seem to realize anything is ailing her. If she had a bum leg, she’d still try to run anyway. That’s the way dogs are.
Good thing Cyndie doesn’t take after her dog.
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Good Citizenship
Neither wind, clouds, nor a barely attached foot kept Cyndie from fulfilling her goal of voting in person yesterday in the 2022 mid-term U.S. election.
It wasn’t a sure thing for a while there. As we were driving home from the lake last Friday, Cyndie was on her phone trying to find somewhere she could get in for surgery right away. Not sure when she might end up being anesthetized, Cyndie called our town clerk to find out her options for voting in a situation like hers.
She broke her leg after the deadline for requesting an absentee ballot, so she was told that her only option would be to make it to the polling location for our township on election day between the hours it would be open. If surgery was going to happen on Tuesday (yesterday), the clerk said she could try to show up just as they open at 7:00 a.m. and someone could bring a ballot out to our car for her to fill out.
There were no other options for voting if emergency situations arise close to election day. It seems like a strong case for requesting an absentee ballot whether or not it is known to be needed. Vote at your convenience and no waiting.
Luckily, our Tuesday schedule was wide open. We were busy on Monday and surgery is happening today.
We chose to head out after an assumed morning rush of people voting on their way to work and before a possible lunch rush. Living in a rural area, it’s not really an issue. There were two electronic voting machines and three booths for manually filling out a ballot. Two people were signing in before us and several people were voting.
Cyndie picked an electric option and since they were then both occupied, I selected manual. I fed my completed ballot into a machine reader and then Cyndie came with a printout of her votes from the electronic ballot device and fed it into the reader as well.
It seems the only thing their electronic device does is color in the selections for you. The choices from both methods were ultimately recorded by one machine.
The flow of voters was consistent while we were there such that the poll workers were kept constantly busy but the waiting was a mere matter of seconds for our township neighbors fulfilling their civic responsibility of voting for our representatives in local and national government.
I didn’t watch the news last night and avoided any hype about results. Regardless of the outcomes, we will continue to put our shoulders to the wheel of healthy progress and send love out into the world.
I read an interesting perspective on navigating the election storm written by Dahlia Lithwick. Think about the weather and the stars. The weather can get rough and the direction we are going can be obscured by clouds. Hang on long enough and the stars will be visible again to guide us toward our goals.
I vote for love. Follow the stars in the sky.
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Some Facts
- The Associated Press offers a weekly roundup of some of the most popular but untrue stories and visuals that are shared widely on social media called, “NOT REAL NEWS: A look at what didn’t happen this week.” It is both entertaining and informative.
- Yesterday, handlers from This Old Horse deduced that the problems Light presents in her resistance to picking a leg up for the farrier seem more likely to be arthritis than a possible PTSD we wondered about.
- Surgery for Cyndie’s broken bones is scheduled for tomorrow. We met the surgeon yesterday and like him a lot.
- Cyndie’s bone breaks just above her ankle are not clean but they are not as bad as what is commonly seen in a fall from a roof or an automobile accident.
- Cyndie had a CT scan yesterday to confirm there is no damage to the ankle joint. The joint looks good in the X-rays. The surgeon is confident it won’t be a problem to stretch the tendons and ligaments enough to straighten her foot from the odd angle it has acquired since the bones broke.
- It takes 180 times longer to drop off a patient on crutches, park the car, ride the elevator, roll a wheelchair to and from the imaging center, retrieve the car and pick up said patient than it does to have an ankle CT scan done.
- John will be required to cover for Cyndie in walking the dog and tending to the horses for a minimum of 8 weeks. The surgeon said she will be able to do therapy exercises and flex the ankle sooner than that, but he doesn’t want her to put any weight on it until after the 8 weeks.
- It is unclear how long Cyndie will be unable to drive, but John has every confidence she will find a way before 8 weeks. Until then, John will be her full-time chauffeur.
- John has not been 100% successful in keeping her out of the kitchen, especially since she figured out that using a walker in the house is easier than hobbling around on crutches.
- Visiting hospitals and clinics, John has needed to wear a mask more in the last few days than he has for over a year.
- It is election day in the U.S. today. To those of you who are eligible, please vote. Hopefully, with a healthy understanding of what is NOT REAL NEWS before you do.
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Chugging Along
Like a freight train chugging along the tracks, we are slowly making our way toward an appointment tomorrow morning with a trauma surgeon for an assessment of Cyndie’s situation. Just about 24 hours to go. Of course, we had to suffer the curse of setting our clocks back one-hour last night to move out of daylight saving time, making this weekend an hour longer. What’s one more hour?
I don’t have as much time to write as I am usually granted, given that I am now thrust into the head cook and chief bottle washer duties in addition to the solo animal feeder. I noticed a shift in allegiance from Delilah. She is normally glued to Cyndie’s side but since I was the one slinging food around the kitchen, Delilah made sure to keep a close eye on my actions, leaving Cyndie alone in the bedroom.
I got the impression there might be a shifting of relationships among the herd of horses this morning, too. It seemed as though Light was making a play to put much more pressure on Swings’ herd-leader position, repeatedly and strongly commanding control of whichever feed pan from which Swings was trying to eat.
In an unusual pairing, this morning Mix easily volunteered to take up a position opposite Swings and Light, on the side with Mia. I was very happy to oblige because those two receive a similar, but larger serving of feed. Mia usually finishes sooner, but she won’t steal from Mix.
On the other side, Light and Swings each get a smaller serving portion so I don’t really care if they keep swapping pans.
Today I must do laundry and make a grocery run.
Chugging along down the tracks.
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My Experience
Moms and dads who are primary caretakers of kids who need to be clothed and fed, helped in the toilet, and supported and encouraged day and night do not get enough credit for the loss of their own personal time. Having sat down only to get right back up more times in the last two days than my old body is used to has revealed how much I prefer to stay in one place for as long as possible once I settle in for a rest.
My emergency room experience frequently involved feeling like I was in the way while slowly accumulating things to hold in my arms. I took the thick fleece jacket from Cyndie that was now overly enmeshed with fragmenting dried leaves after she had fallen and then tried using it to support her dangling right foot. It was dropping a trail of leaf shrapnel everywhere I went.
I was handed the dish towel she had tied up around the jacket to make a sling. I was handed the sock they cut off her foot. I was already shouldering Cyndie’s purse and handing her phone back and forth as she looked up info for the nurses. I was given Cyndie’s pants to add to the bundle.
Not long after, I was sent to the pharmacy to pick up her pain prescription before closing time. Cyndie asked me to buy a pair of loose pants to wear home from the hospital while I was there. Picture me trying to pick out pants for Cyndie to wear. Now stop laughing.
After the chaos of an emergency room, we got home to the challenge of getting her up the stairs into the “cabin” and settled into a lounging position. I was back and forth to the car several times. In my personal chaos, I set my wallet somewhere after returning Cyndie’s health card to her.
By bedtime, I knew I had no idea where that wallet was, except it had to be in the house somewhere because I knew the last time I used it.
Luckily, the routine at home is rather familiar for me, having taken care of Cyndie through multiple surgery recoveries. I still remember how to make coffee for her.
We need to survive the weekend. While driving home from the lake yesterday, Cyndie was on the phone with several treatment places, seeking immediate surgery, if possible. We had possession of her x-ray and the detailed analysis from the Hayward ER that Cyndie was providing to the people on the phone.
The description of her condition included the word, “comminuted.”
Comminuted: adjective
reduced to minute particles or fragments.
• Medicine (of a fracture) producing multiple bone splinters.
She was told she will need a trauma surgeon and none were immediately available Friday afternoon.
An appointment for assessment by a trauma surgeon is scheduled for Monday.
Moms and dads and people raising their grandchildren don’t get enough credit for their loss of personal time.
Luckily, love is the key that more than makes up for the loss. It’s a privilege to take care of our most beloved friends and family.
That’s my experience.
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Unexpected Break
We didn’t see this one coming. After a day of watching more spectacular heroics of the tree-clearing professionals yesterday, things quieted significantly around the property. The calm did not last.
It’s funny that we were on edge over some of the brave antics demonstrated by the crew operating the heavy machinery and chainsaws. We would catch ourselves holding our collective breath until the workers had completed some risky-looking feat.
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When all the tree work had been completed and nobody but the three of us and Delilah were left on the property, we settled in by the fireplace with a late lunch snack to start watching a television series that held the potential for becoming a binger.
When the time for an afternoon walk triggered Delilah’s persistent ask to be let outside, Cyndie skipped out on the tv program to take the dog for a walk. Not long afterward, my phone rang with a call from Cyndie that shattered our tranquility.
I knew instantly that her trauma was real by the way she sounded as she cried for help, suspecting she had broken her ankle in a fall.
Driving Marie’s SUV like one of the tree guys, weaving around obstacle trees to reach her location, I was able to transport her to the Hayward hospital emergency department for immediate help.
An x-ray confirmed both the tibia and fibula were broken just above the ankle and she will require surgical repair.
Cyndie says she had just climbed the steps on the far side of the walking bridge that crosses our lagoon when Delilah made a dash after a squirrel and pulled her off the bridge. Cyndie landed on her right foot while trying to avoid hurting her replacement hip or either of the artificial knee joints.
I guess we could say she was successful in that regard.
She now has pain meds, a temporary splint, and a plan to head home as soon as possible to find somewhere close to home where she can have the surgical repair done.
Tread carefully, dear readers. We just never know when a misstep might significantly interrupt our serenity.
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Relative Something 