Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday! It's the second birthday for our youngest field spaniels, brother Mako and sister Cabo. To look at them, you'd never guess they were related. Cabo is small for a field spaniel, with an unusually short muzzle and a unique, perpetually startled expression on her face. Mako is big – nearly as big as our second field spaniel, Mo'i – and shares much of his appearance, with lots of muscles, 50% more weight than Cabo, and a massive, lunky head. Their personalities are also very different: Cabo is curious, mischievous, and very active. Mako is calmer, clumsier, very strong, and a lunkhead of the first order. We love 'em both!
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
A day in Salt Lake City...
A day in Salt Lake City... We ended up spending most of our day down there. The main purpose of the trip was a routine visit to Debbie's endocrinologist, but of course we stopped at the Red Iguana on the way home. :) This time Debbie and I both ordered the same entree (that doesn't happen very often): one of their specials. This one was three tacos filled with shrimp, queso quesadilla, avocado, poblano pepper strips, and shredded lettuce. They were, quite possibly, the best tacos I have ever had. We did enough reverse-engineering of the recipe to convince ourselves that we could make these at home – and we're gonna give it a try!
Along the way on this trip we passed the 25,000 mile mark on my Tesla Model X. The last time I was in for a routine service the technicians there told me they don't see very many Teslas with that kind of mileage. That surprises me, as in our household the gas-powered car (a Lexus SUV) gets driving about 1% of the total miles we drive. Basically it only gets used if Debbie wants to go somewhere on her own. If I'm driving, we go in the Tesla. Now it may be true (I have no idea, actually) that we drive more miles than the average retired couple, and that might be contributing as well. It's still true that I have had no major problems with the Tesla; just a few almost trivial issues that were all quickly resolved by the Tesla service folks. At 25,000 miles that's also true of the last four or five Toyota products we owned, too...
Along the way on this trip we passed the 25,000 mile mark on my Tesla Model X. The last time I was in for a routine service the technicians there told me they don't see very many Teslas with that kind of mileage. That surprises me, as in our household the gas-powered car (a Lexus SUV) gets driving about 1% of the total miles we drive. Basically it only gets used if Debbie wants to go somewhere on her own. If I'm driving, we go in the Tesla. Now it may be true (I have no idea, actually) that we drive more miles than the average retired couple, and that might be contributing as well. It's still true that I have had no major problems with the Tesla; just a few almost trivial issues that were all quickly resolved by the Tesla service folks. At 25,000 miles that's also true of the last four or five Toyota products we owned, too...
Sunday, March 11, 2018
The magic of topology...
A little winter trip...
A little winter trip... Debbie and I drove up to Hardware Ranch yesterday afternoon, through Blacksmith Fork Canyon. It was particularly beautiful, with clear blue skies and less snow than we've seen for a while. The red osier dogwood were especially brightly colored, as you can see in the three photos below. When I took these photos we were about 4 miles west of Hardware Ranch, along the right fork of the Blacksmith River. The last photo is focused on a teasel seed pod, one of my mom's favorite craft materials. We have bears, Santas, and reindeer that she made from those seed pods. She even made a set for our friend and neighbor Tim D., and they are prominently displayed in their house at Christmas time – her gift really meant a lot to Tim and his wife Jeannie...
On the way in we saw just one small group of deer, about six animals. We parked in the visitor center parking lot and scanned the hills, and found a herd of several dozen elk, and a group of about 25 deer. Then on the way home we were seeing deer around darned every bend! We probably saw over a hundred deer in all. We didn't see any birds, unless you count turkeys and magpies (they're a constant here)...
On the way in we saw just one small group of deer, about six animals. We parked in the visitor center parking lot and scanned the hills, and found a herd of several dozen elk, and a group of about 25 deer. Then on the way home we were seeing deer around darned every bend! We probably saw over a hundred deer in all. We didn't see any birds, unless you count turkeys and magpies (they're a constant here)...
An unusual snow artifact...
An unusual snow artifact... The photos below were taken from our deck a few days ago. This was a couple of days after the snow you see actually fell, and the day was relatively warm: slightly above freezing. Somehow that made the conditions right for the snow to slide off our roof in those sheets you see, while staying strong enough to stay in one piece up to five feet long. When I examined them closely, I could see that the side toward me (as I took those photos) was a sheet of crystal-clear ice about a quarter inch thick, while the rest was wet snow. For a sense of the scale, those beams you see are 10x12s (with the 12 inch side vertical on the top beam).
Dog drawings...
Dog drawings... I've posted before about Sema Hussein, a young woman from England who makes colored pencil drawings of animals from photographs, for a very reasonable fee. She's making enough money to put herself through college and pursue the training necessary to become a French astronaut. Seriously! This young lady is very talented, and she's made a half-dozen drawings of our cats for us. The most recent drawing she made for us is of our first two field spaniels. They passed away a few years ago, and we wanted something to remember them by. Their portrait is now on our “dog wall” – a wall full of dog art in our dining room, mostly not of our own dogs. Check it out!
Saturday, March 10, 2018
Well, this was totally predictable!
Well, this was totally predictable! California bullet train: now 5 years later and $13 billion more expensive. California continues circling the drain, and we continue to be overjoyed that we've escaped...
A minor miracle...
A minor miracle... But one that looms quite large for me.
I have suffered from insomnia for my entire adult life – almost 50 years now. Over the years I've tried just about everything one could imagine to address it, including two overnight “sleep studies” at clinics, both over-the-counter and prescription medications, meditation, and probably 30 other things. Nothing worked. Nothing.
Something like 30 years ago I got into a rough pattern of having 3 or 4 nights of little-to-no sleep (probably averaging 4 hours) followed by one glorious night of 7 or 8 hours of wonderful sleep, repeated ad nauseum. A few things could predictably cause variations in this. If I drank some alcohol a few hours before going to bed, I'd go to sleep easily – and then wake up 3 or 4 hours later with no possibility of further sleep. A big meal too close to bedtime would keep me awake. Watching an exciting movie before I went to bed ensured a sleepless night. Working hard, physically, for a few hours would ensure a good night's sleep. Other than those things, though, that pattern was what I could expect.
The first sleep study I participated in (about 25 years ago) identified one thing unusual with me: I responded to opioids backwards from most people. Instead of making me drowsy, it's more like I drank 5 cups of coffee. If I took even a small dose of any opioid after about noon, there was zero chance of me sleeping that night. From what I've read more recently, this backwards reaction is true of 5% to 10% of adults (the proportion depends on what study you read).
The second sleep study I did just two years ago. This time they had me wired up with about a bazillion sensors, and I didn't sleep at all – not one wink. The technician who monitored me wrote of my sleeplessness in her report. The doctor who reviewed the results diagnosed me with sleep apnea – something that, by definition, you can't exhibit the symptoms of if you're not asleep! My GP tried her best to persuade me that I should try a CPAP machine, but I refused on the basis that the diagnosis couldn't possibly be right. I wonder, actually, if there's some incentive for the sleep center to make sleep apnea diagnoses...
About six months ago I was feeling achy, as I had been working hard that day (shoveling, as it happens). I did something rare for me: I took a couple pills of a “nighttime” pain medication that we had lying around for some reason. It was concoction of acetaminophen and diphenhydramine. To my knowledge I'd never had diphenhydramine before in my life. It's most commonly used as an anti-allergy medication; it's an antihistamine and the active ingredient in Benadryl. I slept like someone who had been knocked out, for ten hours. Further, I woke up groggy as hell – it took a couple hours, a hot shower, and two giant mugs of tea for me to be even barely functional. I don't know how unusual that sounds to you, but for me that was a stunning result – I hadn't slept for ten hours straight for at least a couple of decades.
That, as you might imagine, got my attention. I started experimenting to see how often I could take that drug and have it still work. I quickly figured out that if I used it three nights in a row, the third night it hardly worked at all. That was repeatable, too. More experimentation and I figured out that I could take it one or two nights in a row with good effect, and then I had to lay off it for a couple days. That means I could get 3 or 4 nights of good sleep in one week. This was the first miracle for me – the best sleep, overall, of my adult life. But it gets better!
About a month ago, I started worrying about the effects of regular use of diphenhydramine, so I started researching it on the Internet. If you've ever tried to research a common medication on the Internet, you can probably already guess what I ran into. I'm sure I could have found a paper whose conclusion was anything between “essential for life” to “potent poison”. However, in general the papers were very reassuring: there don't seem to be any generally recognized horrible outcomes of regular diphenhydramine. Great!
But in the course of that reading, I ran across one paper (and I can't find it now, dang it!) that noted something that resonated with me: a significant percentage of people with “backwards” opioid reactions (like me!) were unusually sensitive to the sleep-inducing effects of diphenhydramine. Furthermore, these people often could reduce the bedtime dose of diphenhydramine to as little as 5 mg (I was taking 60 mg). At the lower doses the quality of their sleep was actually better, and most of them could adjust the dose to eliminate the early-morning grogginess.
I suspect you would have to be a long-term insomnia sufferer to understand why that was so exciting to me. :) I immediately started experimenting with lower doses, and within a few nights I had positive results. I'm still experimenting, but I have a relatively narrow window to refine: my optimal dose is somewhere above 7.5 mg and at or below 15 mg. I've tried as many as four nights in a row at 15 mg, and it still works just fine. My morning grogginess is very mild at 15 mg. Next up are some tests at 10 mg.
But the bottom line is that for an entire month now, I've been able to sleep well most nights. Quite literally, I cannot remember another month like that in my life. I've completely stopped my old pattern of waking up at 2 or 3 am. This morning I slept like the proverbial log until 7:30 am – something that until this past month was something I only rarely experienced. It's probably to much to say that I'm sleeping “normally”, but this is by far the closest approximation I've ever made to that!
I can still scarcely believe that this common, cheap, over-the-counter drug could have such a profound effect on my life. It's undeniable, though. Now I have a new fear – that this miraculous change in my life will somehow disappear or become ineffective. I'm being stingy with its use because of that, and if I see that starting to happen I'll back off even more. But in the meantime ... not suffering from the effects of insomnia sure feels good!
One word of caution for any fellow insomniac reading this: from my research, it appears that my reaction to diphenhydramine isn't the most common one. It's also, apparently, not exceptionally weird. If you decide to try this, your results might be anywhere from the opposite of mine to merely wildly different. In other words, your mileage may vary. But for me (so far, at least) it is well into miraculous territory...
I have suffered from insomnia for my entire adult life – almost 50 years now. Over the years I've tried just about everything one could imagine to address it, including two overnight “sleep studies” at clinics, both over-the-counter and prescription medications, meditation, and probably 30 other things. Nothing worked. Nothing.
Something like 30 years ago I got into a rough pattern of having 3 or 4 nights of little-to-no sleep (probably averaging 4 hours) followed by one glorious night of 7 or 8 hours of wonderful sleep, repeated ad nauseum. A few things could predictably cause variations in this. If I drank some alcohol a few hours before going to bed, I'd go to sleep easily – and then wake up 3 or 4 hours later with no possibility of further sleep. A big meal too close to bedtime would keep me awake. Watching an exciting movie before I went to bed ensured a sleepless night. Working hard, physically, for a few hours would ensure a good night's sleep. Other than those things, though, that pattern was what I could expect.
The first sleep study I participated in (about 25 years ago) identified one thing unusual with me: I responded to opioids backwards from most people. Instead of making me drowsy, it's more like I drank 5 cups of coffee. If I took even a small dose of any opioid after about noon, there was zero chance of me sleeping that night. From what I've read more recently, this backwards reaction is true of 5% to 10% of adults (the proportion depends on what study you read).
The second sleep study I did just two years ago. This time they had me wired up with about a bazillion sensors, and I didn't sleep at all – not one wink. The technician who monitored me wrote of my sleeplessness in her report. The doctor who reviewed the results diagnosed me with sleep apnea – something that, by definition, you can't exhibit the symptoms of if you're not asleep! My GP tried her best to persuade me that I should try a CPAP machine, but I refused on the basis that the diagnosis couldn't possibly be right. I wonder, actually, if there's some incentive for the sleep center to make sleep apnea diagnoses...
About six months ago I was feeling achy, as I had been working hard that day (shoveling, as it happens). I did something rare for me: I took a couple pills of a “nighttime” pain medication that we had lying around for some reason. It was concoction of acetaminophen and diphenhydramine. To my knowledge I'd never had diphenhydramine before in my life. It's most commonly used as an anti-allergy medication; it's an antihistamine and the active ingredient in Benadryl. I slept like someone who had been knocked out, for ten hours. Further, I woke up groggy as hell – it took a couple hours, a hot shower, and two giant mugs of tea for me to be even barely functional. I don't know how unusual that sounds to you, but for me that was a stunning result – I hadn't slept for ten hours straight for at least a couple of decades.
That, as you might imagine, got my attention. I started experimenting to see how often I could take that drug and have it still work. I quickly figured out that if I used it three nights in a row, the third night it hardly worked at all. That was repeatable, too. More experimentation and I figured out that I could take it one or two nights in a row with good effect, and then I had to lay off it for a couple days. That means I could get 3 or 4 nights of good sleep in one week. This was the first miracle for me – the best sleep, overall, of my adult life. But it gets better!
About a month ago, I started worrying about the effects of regular use of diphenhydramine, so I started researching it on the Internet. If you've ever tried to research a common medication on the Internet, you can probably already guess what I ran into. I'm sure I could have found a paper whose conclusion was anything between “essential for life” to “potent poison”. However, in general the papers were very reassuring: there don't seem to be any generally recognized horrible outcomes of regular diphenhydramine. Great!
But in the course of that reading, I ran across one paper (and I can't find it now, dang it!) that noted something that resonated with me: a significant percentage of people with “backwards” opioid reactions (like me!) were unusually sensitive to the sleep-inducing effects of diphenhydramine. Furthermore, these people often could reduce the bedtime dose of diphenhydramine to as little as 5 mg (I was taking 60 mg). At the lower doses the quality of their sleep was actually better, and most of them could adjust the dose to eliminate the early-morning grogginess.
I suspect you would have to be a long-term insomnia sufferer to understand why that was so exciting to me. :) I immediately started experimenting with lower doses, and within a few nights I had positive results. I'm still experimenting, but I have a relatively narrow window to refine: my optimal dose is somewhere above 7.5 mg and at or below 15 mg. I've tried as many as four nights in a row at 15 mg, and it still works just fine. My morning grogginess is very mild at 15 mg. Next up are some tests at 10 mg.
But the bottom line is that for an entire month now, I've been able to sleep well most nights. Quite literally, I cannot remember another month like that in my life. I've completely stopped my old pattern of waking up at 2 or 3 am. This morning I slept like the proverbial log until 7:30 am – something that until this past month was something I only rarely experienced. It's probably to much to say that I'm sleeping “normally”, but this is by far the closest approximation I've ever made to that!
I can still scarcely believe that this common, cheap, over-the-counter drug could have such a profound effect on my life. It's undeniable, though. Now I have a new fear – that this miraculous change in my life will somehow disappear or become ineffective. I'm being stingy with its use because of that, and if I see that starting to happen I'll back off even more. But in the meantime ... not suffering from the effects of insomnia sure feels good!
One word of caution for any fellow insomniac reading this: from my research, it appears that my reaction to diphenhydramine isn't the most common one. It's also, apparently, not exceptionally weird. If you decide to try this, your results might be anywhere from the opposite of mine to merely wildly different. In other words, your mileage may vary. But for me (so far, at least) it is well into miraculous territory...
Thursday, March 8, 2018
Quote of the day!
Quote of the day! This explains a lot of politics. It also explains why I like Megan McArdle's writing so much: it's the opposite of this.
“Basically, if everyone has a vested interest in believing that they understand everything, or even that people are capable in principle of understanding it (either because believing this dampens their insecurities about the unpredictable world, or makes them feel more intelligent than others, or both) then you have an environment in which dopey, reductionist, simple-minded, pat, glib thinking can circulate, like wheelbarrows filled with inflated currency in the marketplaces of Jakarta.”I'm re-reading Cryptonomicon for the third time, and (as usual with Stephenson's writings) discovering things I never noticed before...
Stephenson, Neal. Cryptonomicon (p. 629). Harper Collins, Inc.. Kindle Edition.
Ipo is doing great!
Ipo is doing great! A couple of readers wrote to prod me because I didn't tell the results of her latest surgery. In short, it's all good. The vet found the proximate cause of the irritation, fluid accumulation, and bleeding: a tangle of suture about the size of a pea. Somehow it had come loose and twisted up into a mess. He took out all the old sutures in her skin and redid them much more tightly with smaller suture (not the normal procedure for a dog Ipo's size, but experience seemed to suggest it). Within an hour of taking her home, she was acting like nothing at all had happened. Now, close to 48 hours after the surgery, there's zero fluid accumulation and she can't understand why we're treating her specially.
There was one telling event, though. When she first came out to see us after the surgery was done, she was trembling and oh-so-incredibly affectionate. That continued for a couple of hours after we got her home. It was as if she was asking us “If I’m really, really, good will you NOT take me back to that place?” Hopefully we won't have to, at least not for anything related to her spaying.
This morning she was her usually bubbly, spinny (she likes to spin at the door at approximately 4,800 RPM before we let her out), spanielly (if you own a spaniel, you'll know what I mean) self...
There was one telling event, though. When she first came out to see us after the surgery was done, she was trembling and oh-so-incredibly affectionate. That continued for a couple of hours after we got her home. It was as if she was asking us “If I’m really, really, good will you NOT take me back to that place?” Hopefully we won't have to, at least not for anything related to her spaying.
This morning she was her usually bubbly, spinny (she likes to spin at the door at approximately 4,800 RPM before we let her out), spanielly (if you own a spaniel, you'll know what I mean) self...
Humans are very weird critters, part 1,978,638...
Humans are very weird critters, part 1,978,638... Megan McArdle, writing from her new perch on the Washington Post, has an excellent piece on the unexpected result of a new study: the availability of naloxone may actually increase opioid mortality – not because it's ineffective, but because its effectiveness appears to change human behavior...
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
“Rocket Man” and the North Korean government...
“Rocket Man” and the North Korean government ... are so loony-tunes in general that today's news of a possible move toward denuclearization is really hard to get excited about. Their sincerity seems so unlikely. But if it were for real, it sure would be a wonderful thing.
And, interestingly, a vindication of Trump's approach to the NoKos...
And, interestingly, a vindication of Trump's approach to the NoKos...
The Ipo saga continues...
The Ipo saga continues... Ipo was spayed about 10 days ago, but her incision is not healing well. We've been back to the vet with her three times since the initial spaying. This morning I took her in for a second surgery. The vet's going to go through the skin on her belly to expose the sutures in from the spaying in the muscle layer, to make certain there are no issues there (he's not expecting any). Then he'll remove all the old sutures from her skin, on the theory that she's been having a reaction to those sutures – then he'll close the new incision with staples, because the stainless steel in the staples doesn't provoke any bad reactions. Poor girl!
She was all excited when I took her in this morning, though. First, she loves the staff there (all of whom came over to pet her). Second, another dog was waiting with us: Bailey, a six month old female German shepherd. The two of them got along famously. There was much puppy-bowing and gentle play, entertaining all of us waiting. She's a happy girl, especially as she has no idea what's about to happen...
She was all excited when I took her in this morning, though. First, she loves the staff there (all of whom came over to pet her). Second, another dog was waiting with us: Bailey, a six month old female German shepherd. The two of them got along famously. There was much puppy-bowing and gentle play, entertaining all of us waiting. She's a happy girl, especially as she has no idea what's about to happen...
Monday, March 5, 2018
It's so hard...
It's so hard ... for me to go through my mom's things. I don't know exactly why that is, as most of the things I'm going through have no personal meaning for me. For instance, this morning I sorted through a box full of memorabilia from her grandchildren (my nieces and nephews), letters, and photographs. The photos are almost entirely of people, only a few of whom I know. The letters were all from people I don't know. I'm saving them because almost all of them are thanking my parents for some kindness they bestowed; I'll scan them one of these days so my whole family can see them. I wouldn't have guessed I'd find this activity so emotionally intense, but ... I do.
A (possibly) cheerful thought...
A (possibly) cheerful thought ... occurred to me this morning. Maybe Trump's announcement of steel and aluminum tariffs was just a negotiating tactic, trying to win concessions on NAFTA. Maybe he really doesn't have any intention of implementing them.
Maybe...
Maybe...
Saturday, March 3, 2018
Debbie's down again...
Debbie's down again ... but nothing serious this time. On Thursday afternoon she was in our kitchen with the dogs, let her guard down for just a second, and then took a tumble when two dogs jumped on her from behind. It was scary for her, though, because it was painful and she was afraid she'd rebroken her left knee (the one that she broke in May 2016). So off to the emergency room we went...
After living her for four years, I'm not sure why we're still surprised at this ... but we were. We walked into the ER, Debbie on crutches. We were checked in immediately by a very friendly (of course) clerk. We waited for three and a half minutes, and then an ER nurse called us in. In under five minutes, the ER doctor – cheerful and confident – carefully questioned us about what happened, checked Debbie over, verified that no pain meds were needed, and ordered a set of X-rays. A bubbly, friendly radiology intern came over to get Debbie less than five minutes later. The X-ray equipment is state-of-the-art, with all electronic imaging – we were out of there in three minutes. Back to the ER, where a couple of minutes later the ER doc was back and showing us Debbie's X-rays. There was no visible bone break; at the very worst she has a hairline crack invisible on the X-ray, and he thought that was unlikely. The main symptom he had to go on was some very localized pain, which was consistent with an injury to either one particular ligament or (less likely) the meniscus (the cartilage “washer” inside the knee joint). He asked again about pain meds, we declined, and then we were off with a “If it’s not better in a couple of weeks, see your GP.” Huge relief for both of us (but especially for Debbie) that there was no bone breakage.
The overall experience at that ER was so different than the (unfortunately many) visits we've made to California ERs. Friendly, competent, cheerful people. No long waits. No giant waiting rooms filled with people who should have gone to a clinic or their GP. No triage (with no queue, it's not needed!). Spotless, organized ER rooms. Top-notch, modern, working equipment in every room. No feeling that you're actually a resident of an impoverished third-world country.
I've been busy the past couple of days taking care of Debbie and the animals (with some help on the latter from our friend Michelle H.). She already looks better to me, getting around the house pretty easily on the crutches, and able to put some weight on her left leg without pain. Hopefully this incident will be behind us very soon...
After living her for four years, I'm not sure why we're still surprised at this ... but we were. We walked into the ER, Debbie on crutches. We were checked in immediately by a very friendly (of course) clerk. We waited for three and a half minutes, and then an ER nurse called us in. In under five minutes, the ER doctor – cheerful and confident – carefully questioned us about what happened, checked Debbie over, verified that no pain meds were needed, and ordered a set of X-rays. A bubbly, friendly radiology intern came over to get Debbie less than five minutes later. The X-ray equipment is state-of-the-art, with all electronic imaging – we were out of there in three minutes. Back to the ER, where a couple of minutes later the ER doc was back and showing us Debbie's X-rays. There was no visible bone break; at the very worst she has a hairline crack invisible on the X-ray, and he thought that was unlikely. The main symptom he had to go on was some very localized pain, which was consistent with an injury to either one particular ligament or (less likely) the meniscus (the cartilage “washer” inside the knee joint). He asked again about pain meds, we declined, and then we were off with a “If it’s not better in a couple of weeks, see your GP.” Huge relief for both of us (but especially for Debbie) that there was no bone breakage.
The overall experience at that ER was so different than the (unfortunately many) visits we've made to California ERs. Friendly, competent, cheerful people. No long waits. No giant waiting rooms filled with people who should have gone to a clinic or their GP. No triage (with no queue, it's not needed!). Spotless, organized ER rooms. Top-notch, modern, working equipment in every room. No feeling that you're actually a resident of an impoverished third-world country.
I've been busy the past couple of days taking care of Debbie and the animals (with some help on the latter from our friend Michelle H.). She already looks better to me, getting around the house pretty easily on the crutches, and able to put some weight on her left leg without pain. Hopefully this incident will be behind us very soon...
Friday, March 2, 2018
The hopeless feeling when...
The hopeless feeling when ... your president demonstrates, unambiguously, that he is an idiot.
I can't believe he really decided impose tariffs on imported steel and aluminum. It's probably the simplest way he could torpedo the economy unilaterally. Doing so just as his other policy initiatives were bearing positive economic fruit is so stupid I have trouble wrapping my brain around it. The stock market, I see, is interpreting this the same way I would – the Dow is down over 700 points since yesterday morning.
Sheesh.
The unions are crowing about “their” victory. That's a sure sign that you've messed up, Donald.
I see that some (possibly unreasonably) hopeful pundits are noting that Trump still has a week or so to change his mind. Try as I might, I can't feel hopeful about that...
I can't believe he really decided impose tariffs on imported steel and aluminum. It's probably the simplest way he could torpedo the economy unilaterally. Doing so just as his other policy initiatives were bearing positive economic fruit is so stupid I have trouble wrapping my brain around it. The stock market, I see, is interpreting this the same way I would – the Dow is down over 700 points since yesterday morning.
Sheesh.
The unions are crowing about “their” victory. That's a sure sign that you've messed up, Donald.
I see that some (possibly unreasonably) hopeful pundits are noting that Trump still has a week or so to change his mind. Try as I might, I can't feel hopeful about that...
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Over the edge...
Over the edge... Reading the news yesterday about the latest irrational howls for gun control sent me over the edge. If you want to know how that makes me feel, read this post by Eric Raymond – he says it far better than I ever could.
If you know me, then you most likely know I'm not a “joiner” – meaning that I rarely even think about joining an organization. Part of that is a result of being an introvert, but a bigger part is that I just plain don't like most organizations – in the sense that I don't want my membership to represent an endorsement. Last year I joined AARP, but only with great reluctance, as there are many things about AARP that I don't like at all. But ... they have the best Medicare supplement plans, according to my trusted health insurance agent, so I set my qualms aside and did it. Their sticker is not on my car. :)
Yesterday, though, I joined another organization: the NRA. I'm now a life member. The NRA does some things, and has some stands, that I think are borderline crazy. But ... nobody does a better job at defending the second amendment, and that's something I care deeply about. They're also extremely good with their firearms safety training and range training; very commendable activities that should be supported if you're supporting free access to firearms.
So I joined, hoping my financial support will help the fight in some small way.
I'm now pondering a couple additional steps.
First: for both Debbie and I to get concealed carry permits, and to get a suitable carry weapon for both of us (most likely one of the Glocks).
Second: to acquire an AR-15 and learn how to use it.
I want us to be ready if someone comes for our guns. If that day arrives, it will likely be another “joining” moment for me.
If you know me, then you most likely know I'm not a “joiner” – meaning that I rarely even think about joining an organization. Part of that is a result of being an introvert, but a bigger part is that I just plain don't like most organizations – in the sense that I don't want my membership to represent an endorsement. Last year I joined AARP, but only with great reluctance, as there are many things about AARP that I don't like at all. But ... they have the best Medicare supplement plans, according to my trusted health insurance agent, so I set my qualms aside and did it. Their sticker is not on my car. :)
Yesterday, though, I joined another organization: the NRA. I'm now a life member. The NRA does some things, and has some stands, that I think are borderline crazy. But ... nobody does a better job at defending the second amendment, and that's something I care deeply about. They're also extremely good with their firearms safety training and range training; very commendable activities that should be supported if you're supporting free access to firearms.
So I joined, hoping my financial support will help the fight in some small way.
I'm now pondering a couple additional steps.
First: for both Debbie and I to get concealed carry permits, and to get a suitable carry weapon for both of us (most likely one of the Glocks).
Second: to acquire an AR-15 and learn how to use it.
I want us to be ready if someone comes for our guns. If that day arrives, it will likely be another “joining” moment for me.
Bloody Wednesday...
Bloody Wednesday... That's what it was for us, starting at around 3 pm yesterday afternoon. We took delivery of a rug for a friend, and the delivery man carried it into the house for us. Our three puppies (Mako, Cabo, and Ipo) were in their crates in the kitchen, and they went stark raving mad. It's very exciting for them when a stranger comes into the house. Ordinarily that sort of commotion just means a bunch of noise and a chaotic feeling. This time was different, because Ipo had just been spayed a week ago. She managed to split open her incision, about a half inch of it at the end toward her head. A week after the surgery you wouldn't expect that to bleed a lot – but this time it did. Blood wasn't gushing out, but it was flowing steadily and stopped only when I applied pressure through a paper towel.
So Debbie called our vet's office (more on those wonderful people below) while I kept pressure on the wound. There was blood everywhere – in her crate, on her bedding, and (especially) all over the kitchen floor. The paper towel I was using to apply pressure was soaked in it, and my hand looked like it was made of blood. Ipo looked totally unconcerned, other than being curious why her papa was holding her on her back and pressing on her stomach. She obviously wasn't in any pain The vet tech who answered the phone at the vet's office got just enough of a description from Debbie to ascertain that this really was something that needed urgent attention, and then gave us the go-ahead to bring her in immediately. Debbie had the brilliant idea of putting an old washcloth on her belly and holding it in place with an elastic male incontinence strap that we had for Mo'i a few years ago; this worked very well (and impressed the vet a little later :)...
One of the things we love about living here is that our wonderful vets are just 3 minutes (and I mean that literally) up the highway from us. Their clinic is on the same road we live on, less than three miles north of us. So about eight minutes after we first noticed the bleeding, we were in the vet's office. By this time we know most of the people there, both vets and vet techs, on a personal level. I take them flowers once in a while (just did last week, actually) when we think they need cheering up. So when we walked in with Ipo in my arms, it was a bit like walking into a friend's house. At this point the bleeding had slowed down to a seep. The vet techs got everyone notified right away. Dr. Clark happened to see us in the lobby, and came over to check Ipo out. He was obviously unworried (a relief to us) and said he'd see us as soon as he'd finished with the patient he was working on. A few minutes later, we were in with Dr. Clark and he gave her a quick check before telling us what was going on – and to assure us that there was nothing to worry about.
It seems that when they do the spay, they actually make two incisions. The first is through the outer skin layer, the second through the muscle layer that's just inside the skin. When they're done with the surgery, they make two sets of stitches: one to close the muscle incision the other to close the skin. Sometimes the dog will accumulate blood and plasma in the area between the muscle and the skin. That's what happened to Ipo: there was some fluid (probably on the order of a cup's worth) buildup there, and when the skin incision split open, that accumulated fluid started flowing out. None of this is harmful to the dog. He made sure she didn't have any sort of infection, then put one staple in the place where the incision had split and sent us home. That's it!
Phew!!!
The competence and proximity of our vets is a great source of comfort to us. For many years, when we lived in Jamul, California, we were a 45 minute drive from our vet. We always worried about what would happen if we needed a vet urgently. Fortunately for us, that need was never tested, though we did have a few incidents that were rather too close for comfort. The fact that we like all the staff there is just some very nice icing on the cake...
So Debbie called our vet's office (more on those wonderful people below) while I kept pressure on the wound. There was blood everywhere – in her crate, on her bedding, and (especially) all over the kitchen floor. The paper towel I was using to apply pressure was soaked in it, and my hand looked like it was made of blood. Ipo looked totally unconcerned, other than being curious why her papa was holding her on her back and pressing on her stomach. She obviously wasn't in any pain The vet tech who answered the phone at the vet's office got just enough of a description from Debbie to ascertain that this really was something that needed urgent attention, and then gave us the go-ahead to bring her in immediately. Debbie had the brilliant idea of putting an old washcloth on her belly and holding it in place with an elastic male incontinence strap that we had for Mo'i a few years ago; this worked very well (and impressed the vet a little later :)...
One of the things we love about living here is that our wonderful vets are just 3 minutes (and I mean that literally) up the highway from us. Their clinic is on the same road we live on, less than three miles north of us. So about eight minutes after we first noticed the bleeding, we were in the vet's office. By this time we know most of the people there, both vets and vet techs, on a personal level. I take them flowers once in a while (just did last week, actually) when we think they need cheering up. So when we walked in with Ipo in my arms, it was a bit like walking into a friend's house. At this point the bleeding had slowed down to a seep. The vet techs got everyone notified right away. Dr. Clark happened to see us in the lobby, and came over to check Ipo out. He was obviously unworried (a relief to us) and said he'd see us as soon as he'd finished with the patient he was working on. A few minutes later, we were in with Dr. Clark and he gave her a quick check before telling us what was going on – and to assure us that there was nothing to worry about.
It seems that when they do the spay, they actually make two incisions. The first is through the outer skin layer, the second through the muscle layer that's just inside the skin. When they're done with the surgery, they make two sets of stitches: one to close the muscle incision the other to close the skin. Sometimes the dog will accumulate blood and plasma in the area between the muscle and the skin. That's what happened to Ipo: there was some fluid (probably on the order of a cup's worth) buildup there, and when the skin incision split open, that accumulated fluid started flowing out. None of this is harmful to the dog. He made sure she didn't have any sort of infection, then put one staple in the place where the incision had split and sent us home. That's it!
Phew!!!
The competence and proximity of our vets is a great source of comfort to us. For many years, when we lived in Jamul, California, we were a 45 minute drive from our vet. We always worried about what would happen if we needed a vet urgently. Fortunately for us, that need was never tested, though we did have a few incidents that were rather too close for comfort. The fact that we like all the staff there is just some very nice icing on the cake...
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Things you find when cleaning up...
Things you find when cleaning up... My office has been a complete disaster ever since my mom died, just over a year and a half ago. That's because her stuff is strewn everywhere in it, and I've been procrastinating – waiting, really, until it wasn't too awful while going through her things, trying to decide what goes where or to whom. It's still an emotional roller coaster for me, but at this point I'm not sure it's ever going to get any better. So I've begun the great office cleanup.
I've just barely started, and already I've found some things that were surprising, and some other things that brought me a nice big smile.
The biggest surprises so far came from skimming through my mom's voluminous medical records – hundreds of X-rays and a couple thousand pages. Before I shredded these things I wanted to make sure no other papers I'd want to keep were embedded in them (as I have found things I've kept in some very odd places). This time I haven't yet found any other papers – but I did discover two medical issues my mom had that I had never known about. The first was from 1998: the detection of a tumor in her brain, 1.5 cm across (so roughly walnut-sized). I found the X-rays, radiology reports, and a written recommendation from her GP to have surgery, despite it being (as he put it) “quite risky with a relatively high expected mortality”. So far as I know she never had any such surgery, and I can't imagine how she could have had it in secret – so she must have declined (not all that surprising for her). The second issue was from 2007, the detection of a lump in her breast and the diagnosis of benign but with a recommendation to have it removed. Again, I don't know of any such surgery – but that kind of surgery could, I imagine, be done without my ever knowing about it. On the other hand, it wouldn't surprise me to find out she'd declined that surgery as well! In any event, neither of these contributed in any way to her death, so if she did decline them, in hindsight it wasn't a bad decision.
In another box I sorted through, there were some of our personal papers. One of them was a note from November 1990, from the owner of a motel in Trinidad, Colorado. If you click the little photo at right, you can read it. She's thanking Debbie and I for some things we left behind for her, her husband, and their dog. Neither Debbie nor I remember the incident at all, though it does sound like something we'd do. We remember the trip very well, though: we were taking a friend from San Diego to Colorado for surgery, and then back home. We stayed in Trinidad for a couple of days waiting for our friend to be ready, and we must have stayed at Hannah's motel. We have lots of nice memories of that trip, so this brought lots of smiles.
Also in that box was something very meaningful to me, personally. I've removed identifying information because so far as I know the author of this letter is still around, and I didn't get his permission to use his name. Friends of mine from the late '90s or early '00s will probably be able to figure it out, though. :) This is a letter of recommendation written to help me find a job after I fired myself as the CEO of Previo in 2002, because we were winding the company down. The author knew me better than any other Board member did, so his kind words were something I cherish. I haven't looked at this letter for over 15 years now, so reading it this morning was almost like reading it for the first time. I never did use the letter to help find a job, but I did lean on the author a couple of times as a reference. Both times the prospective employer commented about that reference call being amongst the most positive they'd ever done. Both times they hired me. :)
I've just barely started, and already I've found some things that were surprising, and some other things that brought me a nice big smile.
The biggest surprises so far came from skimming through my mom's voluminous medical records – hundreds of X-rays and a couple thousand pages. Before I shredded these things I wanted to make sure no other papers I'd want to keep were embedded in them (as I have found things I've kept in some very odd places). This time I haven't yet found any other papers – but I did discover two medical issues my mom had that I had never known about. The first was from 1998: the detection of a tumor in her brain, 1.5 cm across (so roughly walnut-sized). I found the X-rays, radiology reports, and a written recommendation from her GP to have surgery, despite it being (as he put it) “quite risky with a relatively high expected mortality”. So far as I know she never had any such surgery, and I can't imagine how she could have had it in secret – so she must have declined (not all that surprising for her). The second issue was from 2007, the detection of a lump in her breast and the diagnosis of benign but with a recommendation to have it removed. Again, I don't know of any such surgery – but that kind of surgery could, I imagine, be done without my ever knowing about it. On the other hand, it wouldn't surprise me to find out she'd declined that surgery as well! In any event, neither of these contributed in any way to her death, so if she did decline them, in hindsight it wasn't a bad decision.
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