Personal: July 2006 Archives
So today was John's 4th post-operative follow up visit with his doctor. Both of us were a bit nervous about what would happen...the prospect of another week of very restricted activity was not a happy thought for either of us. But we had a beautiful sunny day and a lot of positive thinking as we headed off to the appoinment. All of your continued good thoughts must have paid off, because the doctor decided that John's couch arrest could be lifted and he could "go about his daily business". He still has a little bit of fluid that will continue to be monitored (apparently it can take months for it to go completely away in some people) but the retina has re-attached exactly as it was supposed to and the vision in his left eye is excellent. All of this is most definitely a good thing.
Much happy dancing was done! And John agreed to pose for a picture for me with his "third eye".
He looks like he's got his eyes closed, but in fact, he's just squinting. They put those dilating drops into his left eye (the one with the tear) to check things out so he was a little sunlight sensitive. John's extra eyeball travelled with us to his doctor's visit (I wasn't brave enough to show it to the doctor, but I did have my hand on it while John was getting his exam, just as a little extra good luck wish!) so that it could be there to provide some extra positive energy and to make us both smile while we were waiting.
Getting that good news was like falling in love all over again -- I think we both felt like we were walking on air. I tell you, this feels so good, that if you were all here in Chicago it would be Fronteral Grill Blue Agave Margaritas (our favorite!) all around to celebrate -- that's where we're going for date night tomorrow.
You see, Fronterra is one of my all time happy places, and it has become a favorite of John's as well. Not too long after I split up from my ex-fiance, after I found an apartment of my own with help from two of my very good friends, I was feeling quite good and very much like there were only good things ahead. To say thank-you for all their support, I decided that a trip to a very special restaurant was in order. Now, bear in mind, when you make the princely sum of $14,500 a year, special does not mean Charlie Trotters. But it could mean Frontera Grill -- the more casual little sister of Topolobampo, Rick Bayless' signature restaurant. It was a wonderful evening. And it started a tradition for me. If I need to be happy, we head to Frontera. If something very good is happening, we head to Frontera. It never fails to make stressful things a little lighter and happy things even brighter. A trip to Frontera for ceviche and Blue Agave Margaritas is my ultimate happy dance.
Since I can't take all of you to Frontera, I figure that I need to find another way to let you happy dance with us. So I've decided to have a little contest! What can you win? Well since I'm a very sock-y girl of late, and since John was accompanied to surgery by some handknit socks, the winner will have their choice of two skeins of Blue Moon Sock Candy or one skein of Blue Moon Socks That Rock, Medium weight (in the color of your choice -- or at least any color that I can find out at The Fold or on the Blue Moon Website). This is enough yarn to make the "Upscaled Dragon Socks" from my "Here There Be Dragons" sock pattern. What? You say you don't have my pattern? Not sure you have the right needles? No problem at all! I'll also make sure you have a copy of the pattern and your choice of a set of bamboo (Chiagu) or nickel plated (Knit Picks) double pointed needles to help get you on your way. Rather spin up that yarn yourself? Well, if you're up for that kind of adventure, I'd be happy to substitute the yarn for some of Crown Mountain Farms supewash merino roving.
How do you win? Well, it's pretty simple! The winner of my contest will be drawn at random from everyone who sends an email containing your personal favorite means of happy dancing to happydance@keyboardbiologist.net by 11:59 pm July 31, 2006. I'll have a drawing during the first week of August to determine the winner and I will also publish everyone's happy dances on a special page on my website for everyone to enjoy. Yes, international folks are elligible! Please be sure to include your name, an email address I can reach you at, where you are from, and your blog URL (if you have one). Once I draw the winner, I will contact them directly to work out the details
And one last thing. Still got some positive energy to spare? Since we've been the beneficiaries of much good energy, I wanted to ask you all to please consider sharing a little of it with Amanda at My Only Sunshine. Amanda is going through testing for something even scarier than torn retinas: unknown areas of high density in her breasts and has been talking about it on her blog. If you have some time, please take a little of it to go and wish her good luck and good health.
I'm not a terribly religious person but I do believe in the concept of karma. It helps me to think that good, selfless efforts are rewarded while less savory behavior will ultimately lead to some kind of bad fortune.
So, whenever I find myself contemplating something in my life, or the life of a loved one that doesn't make me happy, I look for some way to increase my good karma potential. For instance, right after we found out about John's retinal problems, but before he had surgery, I made a donation to the Heifer International as a part of Cara's fund raising efforts that accompanied her Spin Out project in NYC.
Today we went in for John's third surgical follow up visit. We were really hoping that this visit would bring an easing in what I have come to think of as John's "couch arrest" part of the recovery process. A kind blog reader, Lynette, left a comment on the day of John's surgery wishing us well and mentioning that she was trying to raise money for the American Cancer Society by participating in a local Relay for Life. The ACS is another excellent organization that supports scientific research into cancer at both a national and local level. They provide support for families and people looking for information as well as research fellowships for junior scientists. My doctoral laboratory was supported by a couple of ACS grants. It seemed like a nice way to help build some more good karma and help out a good cause at the same time.
Lynette has the very modest goal of raising $500 for the ACS. She's also a whiz with a sock knitting machine and she's offering anyone who donates a chance to win 2 pairs of custom made socks. So if you feel like you need a little bit of good karma yourself, this is a chance to create a some good karma and have a chance to win some very nifty socks
And I do think that all your good wishes and some of my attempts to create a little bit of better karma have helped. John is still couch restricted, but the retina is still attached and about 85% of the fluid that had built up in his eye has been pushed out. He's still on couch arrest becauase of that last bit of fluid needs to be pushed out, and the best way for that to happen is for him to keep his head in a position that will help the air bubble in his eye push against it and send it packing. But at least much of his bruising is gone and his eye feels much better.
Not being able to go anywhere and having to keep his head at a 45 degree angle is still a bit frustrating, but at least he has a laying on his side position that he can use so that he can have a little more range of motion. We keep reminding ourselves that since a lot of fluid had built up in his eye as a result of the tear not being treated for a while, that we probably couldn't expect everything to go back to normal right away. Healing these eye things just takes time and patience. And we are fortunate that he has a work environment that has been supportive and helpful as he starts his second week away from the office.
For my next acts of good karma, I am working on making sure that everyone who left us a comment gets a personal thank you from me (I am very behind, but I am getting through things slowly but surely). I think I am also going to try to crochet John his very own third eyeball so that we can use it as a way to focus our healing energies. You've got to love the internet. The awesome Lady Linoleum has an awesome eyeball pattern complete with nerve endings. How could I not try one to make one for John?
There are a couple of bright happy things for me to talk about today. The first, because this is, after all, a craft oriented blog, is this lovely 8 ounces of superwash Merino in a colorway called "Hang on Sloopy" from Crown Mountain Farms.
This purchase of this little bale of orangey goodness ultimately had it's roots in two things: 1) the woman I consider to be the muse for all things orange and 2) the fact that this is the fiber that is used to spin up the Sock Hop sock yarns (also from Crown Mountain Farms).
I was not sure what to expect from superwash Merino from a texture perspective. It turns out to be quite soft and luscious. Now I just need to dig out that recent issue of Spin Off that talked about making sock yarns. Methinks that I need some good tight twist to create a nice durable yarn. But the real issue will be 2 ply or 3? Any sock yarn spinners out there want to offer your guidance?
The other little ray of sunshine today was John's first follow up visit to the doctor after his surgery. He woke up this morning with his eye feeling much better. It was such a wonderful moment for me to go to the doctor with him and watch him take off the bandage. He has a lot of bruising around the eye and a good deal of redness in his eye but there's no infection, he's experiencing very little pain and the doctor felt everything looked good for this point in the recovery process. We've both been feeling pretty good all day long. This is still only day 2 and John still has a while to go with sleeping sitting up, but I think both of us are more hopeful and less concerned about more surgery or loss of vision. And John is actually a very good convalescent -- not only did he take care of many of his "big" chores before the surgery to help make my life a bit easier now, he's made the decision in his own mind that he is going to take the time he needs to heal correctly. It may be inconvenient for a little while, but it's far better than the alternative.
And there is a bit of crafting going on, just not as much as usual since I have other higher priorities right now, and there's only so much excitement I can get from posting "oh! I have another half bobbin more of cormo/silk/alpaca single".
Deep breath. Long pause.
Well, we made it through the first day. While John was having the follow-up surgical care from the nurse, I got a lecture from the opthamologist about his special needs. Forgive me, as someone who has had many years of scientific training, it's always hard for me to remember that the doctor talking to me for the first time doesn't know that. I get a tad peevish, even though I know the doctor has to communicate in a way that makes important instructions very clear. In order for the procedure to be a success, John needs to keep his head in more or less one position for quite some time. I sat there with my sock in my hands, knowing it was important information, but wishing it was delivered in a way that didn't make me feel like a four year old. It seems a little strange to have your husband referred to as "a real trooper." I chalked one up in the "grown up" category by paying attention to what was important, and not letting my ego get the better of me. At least not too much.
All my personal irritation disappeared, however, watching John come out of the outpatient surgical suite with a big patch on his eye. On our way to the hospital I had joked with him a little bit that I could knit him an eye patch. It didn't seem so funny watching him carefully walk out the door or when I had to sign all his release paperwork. When we came in, he was a little nervous about dealing with the first surgical procedure he's ever had in his life. At the end of it, I could feel this little sad feeling from him. It's hard to explain, but it kind of broke my heart. A routine doctor's visit turns into a surgical procedure in 4 days, the surgical procedure happens and the doctor discovers that he needs to do more work that he originally thought, and the surgical procedure comes with the knowledge that if you don't deal patiently with a whole bunch of restrictions, you could have to go through it again, or worse. John is usually quick to try to make other people smile even when he isn't feeling so good. But that part had receeded into the background for a little while as he took in the magnitude of what is/could be ahead.
We got home at about quarter after nine in the morning. The car ride home in the rain seemed to ease the mood a bit. John touched base with some family members to let them know he was okay and my mom made breakfast. Thank goodness for my parents. They had been planning to spend the weekend with us before we found out that John would need to have surgery, and having them here today was a big help. When you live with someone long enough, you forget all the things that they do regularly. John is restricted to pretty much sitting peacefully in one spot for at least the next few days (he has a nice nest of pillows to help him stay in a comfortable positiion and his home theatre to help entertain him). For the sake of our plants and our cats, I hope I can remember to do all the things that our living things need me to do to keep them alive and healthy.
And now the day is pretty much drawing to a close. It's 11:30 PM, July 3rd. We've made it through the first whole day. John's anaesthesia has worn off and he is beginning to feel some discomfort, but we have some reasonable pharmaceuticals to help with the pain management. In spite of that, his sense of humor has in large part returned. I have always admired the deep well of optimism that always seems to get him through tough things. Now we just have to find some way to help him sleep and keep his head the way it should be. My dad, ever the engineer even in retirement, has helped to rig up a clever "head positioning system". And I have my first night ever of sleeping alone when John is in the house. It is the start of what I hope will be a good healing phase. The last 6 months have been tough for us from a health perspective. I'm hoping this signals the beginning of the end of that bad spell.
So I am doing what I always do whenever I have a situation that makes me nervous or unhappy -- I am looking at events beyond in search of happy milestones. In three weeks it will be time to go to Ann Arbor to a little brewfest. In four weeks we'll be seeing Circque do Soleil. In eight weeks we will be celebrating our 8th wedding anniversary.and sometime in September we are hoping to head back to Hawaii for a restful vacation. Little by little, John's eye will heal and I'll get to share in the joy of watching him get back to feeling better.
Thank you again to everyone who left us a note, shared a story or just thought about us yesterday. It's impossible to really express how much that means to both of us. Please know that we are both deeply touched and deeply grateful. If I could handknit socks for all of you, I most certainly would.
To those of you in the US celebrating the 4th tomorow, may you have a very happy holiday. To everyone else, may you have a most excellent Tuesday. I'm hoping mine will involve giving my WooLee Winder a work out and finding out at John's follow up appointment tomorrow that things are going in the direction they are supposed to go.
The title of this post is relevant to at least two things. The first being how long my Broadripple Socks have been started but remained unfinished. The second being what I will be doing tomorrow morning at 6:30 AM.
I had the first 6" of the cuff of this sock started quite some time ago, during my "socks on 2 circs" era. Originally, the socks were for John (hence the solid somewhat manly color) but then I realized that there was a bit too much lacy-ness for John's tastes and they became socks for me instead. They were probably the first socks I ever worked in that had more texture than a K2P2 ribbing at the top. I'm not so sure why I stalled out so quickly on these. At the time, perhaps, the patterning seemed a little hard to keep track of. It does not seem that way now. On a trip last weekend to Madison to pick up a refridgerator that could store two 5 gallon kegs and to see an old friend I finished the leg and turned the heel and started working down the instep. It took me a while to get back into the socks on 2 circs rhythm (I actually thought about switching the project onto double points, but I didn't have any US size 3 DPs in my collection and I didn't have time to go out and buy any before the trip), but once I did it was smooth sailing.
Which brings me to the second reference for waiting. This morning, at an impossibly early time, I will be sitting in the waiting room of the surgical eye clinic at Illinois Masonic Hospital waiting for John to undergo a procedure to fix and to prevent the further progression of the early stages of a detatched retina. I know, it's not life threatening, the surgery is outpatient, and everything should go just fine. But this is my soulmate and his vision. It may not be life threatening, but it is not trivial, either. We found out on Thursday and the surgery was scheduled for 4 days later. He has been quite calm over the weekend (as is his way, the Tao of John is a patient and accepting one), but I must admit to being both worried and fearful. It's a little bit invasive, this procedure. And John's never had to go through any surgery before. I think you begin to understand the feelings you have for another person when, immediately after you hear that they have to go through something unpleasant, you know that if you could trade with them, you would in a heartbeat. In less than a heartbeat.
So the sock and I will be in the waiting room early on a Monday morning, sending the best possible vibes we can with every new stitch. Very much looking forward to taking him home and helping him heal and get better. It may sound a little silly, but I've made him promise to wear a pair of the socks that I have made for him. If I can't be there with him, at least a little of the magic and love that come from a pair of handknit socks will be there to keep him warm and make him feel more comfortable.
Update: We're home and everything went okay. Apparently he needed a little more cryo/laser work than they thought he would need originally, but now the surgical part is over and the harder part begins: spending the next 1-3 weeks with his head more or less in one position to keep the gas bubble they put in his eye in one place where it can hold the retina where it is supposed to be. So we're not out of the woods quite yet, but we're hoping the healing will go well and he won't need any more invasive procedures in the future. Thank you for everyone's good thoughts. John thanks you all, too. He did wear one of the pairs of socks I knit him (the Trekking XXL pair) but he was so distracted that he actually put on both socks inside out. No matter, the good knitting magick, I think, works no matter what side of the garment faces out. I'll keep y'all posted on how he's doing. Right now he's got a big patch over his left eye (no pictures on this one) and is buried in a big nest of pillows to help him stay in the position he needs to.
