IN WHICH BEAR BOUNCES BACK . . .

and ends up as clouless as Inspector Clouseau. Which is not at all comforting.

What has been comforting is the large number of kind wishes I have received from people. THANK YOU!!!!

Here's the story.

Usually, when spring arrives, I go a little crazy, with depression. And added pain. Happens as regularly as clockwork. And it happened this year. So, this is normal, though it is a "new normal." Or, more appropriately, it is expected. And it lasts a couple of weeks.

But not this year. The whole experience this time has come and gone in a less than a handful of days.

I do not understand this AT ALL! Any more than I understand this iPad that I am trying to use! (It is VERY TRYING!!!)

Members of my Editorial Committee are still here, but are as puzzled as I am about what is happening, and what to do. It is a nice sort of puzzled, but we are puzzled nonetheless.

So, I have decided to carry on as if I am as healthy as usual, and see what happens. (It is a bit like waiting for the next shoe to drop.)

Ciao for niao. Blessings and Bear hugs!

OPTIMISTIC (A-Z CHALLENGE)

I try to be optimistic. I try to be confident and hopeful about the future.

In the past I have told you being positive. But I'll refresh your memory.

John: "Only fools are positive."
Frank: "Are your sure?"
John: "I'm positive."

Well, that's one way of dismissing the positive, the optimistic of the world.

But in truth, what is optimism?

I believe it is an attitude that looks at each day, saying, "Where are the good things which are going to happen today?" The follow-up question is, "How can I be part of these good things, or at least some of them?"

I often find myself in a less-than-optimistic frame of mind. Constant pain, depression, and fatigue have a way of doing that to a person.

My goal, now that I am beginning to feel better, is to find ways of focusing on the good things which could or will happen, and making sure I am part of whatever they are.

And I think I can be optimistic about that approach.

------------

Also brought to you by the letter O:
• oblique
• obscure
• olive
• overloaded
• opportunity

And from the New Phonetic Alphabet: O for you.

HIBERNATION TIME.

I've finally got a very melancholy Bear back into his den. Upset Bear, really. Too many difficult things going on.

Next time I won't wake him if something goes wrong, like the shooting of Rep. Giffords. He's really not coping well with a lot of things this year.

Time to let sleeping Bear lie.

SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT …

 The sun is high. The sky is bright blue, with no clouds. 

The air is warm (about 10°C, or 50°F). 

The Elms and Poplars have lost most of their leaves. 

 Even the Larches are shedding their needles (leaves) on cue. 

(Larches are the only coniferous trees to loose all their leaves

at one time.)

While I can usually walk only about a kilometre at a time,

Sadie and I have done three today,

two this morning, another one this evening.

Too nice a day to be inside.

I hope you had a wonderful day, too!

DEPRESSION HURTS (5) Five and a Half

Outside, the Elm trees are shedding their yellow and brown leaves in advance of winter’s icy blast. It is mid-October. After the soggy summer, we’ve had a dry, warm autumn. Farmers are making progress in harvesting throughout much of the province, though in some places the fields are too soggy, still. But in the places where waterlogged fields have dried, crop quality is poor. Very poor, indeed.

I sit at the upstairs window of my daughter’s house, for which I am caring, along with its lively contents — two small dogs. I look out on the re-built and repaved street — a major traffic artery — lined with ageing Elms. I am here while she is holidaying in Europe; she gets home tonight. The house is quiet, except for occasional barking of the dogs, and the furnace; its fan provides a gentle background ruffle of blowing air. Rather like a pervasive, almost calming, “white noise.”

Yesterday I received my annual flu shot, as well as an injection to combat pneumonia. This year they are free. It is a public health activity; preventive medicine. The goal is to slow or stop the spread of both the seasonal forms of influenza, and the dreaded H1N1. And the commonest forms of bacterial pneumonia.

This morning, my arm hurts. The one in which I received the pneumonia injection. Not a deep ache; more “nuisance value” than anything else. The other one, in which I received the flu shot, is just fine.

I am no stranger to pain. I carry scars from fairly minor surgery, and from a traffic accident of long ago.

Those are the visible scars. The invisible scars are more numerous. And more troubling.

It has been almost five and a half years since I began the extended disability phase of my life. That has changed somewhat. Instead of collecting disability allowance I am now retired and drawing several pensions — government and private. We are not going to be poor, but we will be careful with our money.

What has not changed is my overall health. The initial shock and devastation of betrayal and “crucifixion” have passed — they were largely gone in the first year. But the perpetual greyness continues, punctuated by occasional bursts of light, but far more often fading long to black (and staying there). It is something akin to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, though not quite as intense. I tend to drag myself through days, though I prefer to sleep.

I sleep a lot. Day and night. I wake up to eat; to walk the dog, play with her, or clean her up; to visit with my beloved; to have tea, occasionally, with a friend; to attend a meeting related to bioethics (though those are becoming more rare). Yet, sometimes, the pain keeps me awake at odd hours, especially the early hours of the day.

I spoke with my doctor earlier this week. I took four pages of notes with me; two for me, to for his file. The list of symptoms is long and detailed. And boring. Physical ailments. Emotional upsets. An overall lack of interest in living, but certainly not suicidal thinking or action. A gnawing malaise.

In simple terms, I’ve really not made much progress towards recovering real health. And I have come to realize there may not be much improvement at any point in the future. Indeed, when my condition was re-evaluated a bit over three years ago, my chances for improvement were described as "guarded."

So I remain a scarred soul. That I have survived is a testament to both faith and persistence (some might say “orneriness”). That further progress appears limited, was predicted. That I have two resident “black dogs” — Sadie and chronic depression — is a continuing fact of life.

And, that’s the way it is. Today.

MORE SLUSH AND STUFF

This is a bit different from the last "Slush and Stuff."

In this case the "Stuff" includes some dislocated joints in my back. This, courtesy of Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, who is now strong enough to move me around at will — as in her will. This is a real pain, both physically and in matters of canine management. Bear will survive both, thanks to good medication and extra rest, and some good planning (which has yet to be done).

The "Slush" is inside the Bear's head, thanks to another "black dog" (as Sir Winston Churchill put it) who has come to reside. This seems to happen every year when winter turns to spring. Bear will survive; the other dog will leave. Bear just doesn't know when.

Please Bear with me; Bear has other stories to tell, when he is able.
v

A LITTLE BIT OF SNOW

We are having just a bit of a winter storm here. Environment Canada posted a "Winter Storm Warning" about 43 hours ago, and it's been snowing ever since. Not heavy snow; tiny flakes that kept coming, and coming, and coming. I don't know exactly how much snow we have, but it's banked up against our basement windows. I'm guessing at least 20 cms (about 8 inches). And the wind came up overnight; 70 kph (about 40 mph). Not a lot of fun.


And there is so much snow that Sadie isn't really getting out. I took her for a walk after supper yesterday, but traction was so bad, it was difficult getting anywhere. It was a short walk. Today, no walking at all.

I've cleared the walkway beside the house twice since this snow began. But that was pretty useless, as you can see.


I have to encourage Sadie a lot just to go outside and get off the porch. So after supper today, I cleared the sidewalks for the third time and made a circuit in the back yard for Sadie. She loves it!

But we're not alone, in terms of feeling "snowed in." City Transit pulled all its buses off the streets earlier today, because the going was so difficult. I do hope they get enough plowed that people can get to wherever tomorrow (Monday). Meanwhile, a lot of activities were canceled today, because of the snow.

I stayed on our nice warm basement, with the gas heater, drinking tea and think deep, Bear-like thoughts. Sadie was here; J came down, too. Whole family together!

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

(traditional Scottish prayer)

Well, that didn't work here.

I was rudely awakened from my sleep last night by a great crashing sound. By time I actually came to, it occurred to me that the sound may have happened inside our house.

An unexpected visitor, perhaps?

NO; doors were all secure.

It was just the shelving in the laundry area, literally "off the wall." A few screws loose. (But not in my head this time!)

Sadly, so very typical of the quality of workmanship we suffered through after the fire in our house about a year ago.

Fortunately, not much got spilled. Only a bit of furniture oil, and it stayed on top of the washer. There was a whole bottle of chlorine bleach, which stayed intact -- thereby saving both the new flooring we had installed and G3's sanity.

Getting the shelves back up is going to be the challenge. One extra task I desperately didn't need. Let's see -- drill, anchors, good screws, extra bar to attach to the wall for holding up the shelving. I guess I'm ready -- I guess. Maybe tomorrow. Or. . . .

CHANGE HAPPENS

I've made some changes in how I do my blogging.

When I first set up the blog "The Ethical Pilgrimage," it was in connection with my post-graduate studies in bioethics. When I became chronically ill, my plans to finish my degree evaporated.

Now, that blog is about to do the same (more or less).

I'm going to keep it up in the blogsphere, as a matter of historical record and reference (should I need it, or other people want to see particular items). Thoughts which I would normally have posted there will be found on my blog "Bears Noting."

Thank you to those who have taken the time to read and follow these few notes. If you'll "bear with me," I think you'll find the other site to be as noteworthy as this.

MOVING EXPERIENCE

I've been doing some reading and thinking, which is moving my mind in a new direction. So for the next little while, you probably won't see me here. (I'll likely do a bit of reading and commenting, but not a lot.) I'm not running away, I just need some time to reflect and meditate out in my Celtic Grove.

If I don't show up in a week or so, May-B, "Cheerful" Jane, and CJ from Northumberland have my permission to send their respective dogs (Montel, Charlie, and Sparky) to hunt me down.

A DOG, A DOG; MY KINGDOM FOR A DOG ? (5)

I decided to have a shower today. Life has been a bit harried for the last few days, what with trying to mesh our family's schedule with Young Dog's schedule.

Anyhow, I thought today would be a good time for a shower. So did the dog. (You did notice that he is a Portuguese WATER Dog?) I got in the shower and turned on the water. Young Dog began immediately to bark, and whine, and wail. He wanted in.

Now I'm fairly open-minded (as even The Blog Fodder will attest, when he's in a good mood). But I'm not so open-minded that my brain has fallen out. The dog was NOT coming into the shower with me! Fortunately, I got out of the shower before YD could break down the shower doors. (He's only a 10-month-old pup; I don't think he understands his strength. Or maybe he does. Hmmmm. . . .) And, as the last bit of water drained from the tub, he was still thinking very seriously of jumping in.

After I dressed, we went outside to trim the daggum drattem rottem Elm tree. Previous owners of the house had installed two of them, before we had a problem with Dutch Elm Disease. One of the challenges with this disease is that you can't trim the Elms after March 31st or before September first, since that's when the elm bark beetles are supposedly active. (They're the bugs that carry the disease.) So there I am, almost knee-deep in snow at some spots, trying to trim this tree, while strongly doubting the beetles would be active in this year's climate. (BTW: I've decided this activity is my version of Winnie the Pooh's "stoutness exercises."). YD, who loves to chew on the small branches, was in his glory; I was almost in agony.

The problem is that this particular elm tree is right where the electrical and phone lines come into the house. If I don't trim the tree, and a storm comes along, and tree knocks down those lines, guess who pays? Right.

I quit earlier than I had planned. Young dog came in and wanted to play. I declined. Very clearly. So YD is sleeping, I am blogging, and I'm going to try to have some tea and a rest. I am determined to survive, and stay sane (or at least one of those two).

SOMETIMES . . .

Sometimes, I sit and think.
Sometimes, I just sit. -- Anon.

Lately, I've just been sitting. (That's not entirely true -- I've been reading what you've been writing. And adding comments. Sometimes.)

I'm sure my brain will re-engage at some point. But not tonight.

And it really didn't engage this afternoon, when I was in a research ethics board meeting -- the first I have been able to attend for several months. On reflection, I found that inability to really engage was troubling -- even frightening. I feel like I'm not myself right now; I also felt I wasn't doing my job (which I really hate -- because I'm letting down the rest of the team). Weird. Frustrating. But I don't think fatal.

At least I hope it's not fatal.

What it is, is "high nuisance value."

Please "bear" with me.

TODAY'S STORY

Well, its a new day. But not much different from yesterday.

Yesterday I was given the "definitive word." I am "not capable of returning to any regular work at this time." That is not surprising, given how I'm feeling. It's been almost three years, and it could be another year before I'm "well" (or a reasonable facsimile thereof). Then in about six months, I hit retirement age. As I said in my profile, "Too sick to work; too healthy to die -- you're stuck with me the way I am."

{Aside: there are people who read my blog postings and comments, and have concluded that this bear will never be "well." They may be right. Depending.}

To tell the truth, the reason I started blogging on a regular basis was as a form of therapy. Writing is something I can do; I've been trained to do it, and I've done it for decades. Getting people to "do it on paper" (or the internet) is important, as I've told "The Blog Fodder." In this case, the "people" is me.

But this is different. This is about me. This is not "objective, fact-based" writing. This is risky stuff. Especially for someone who is "a conservative and introvert by nature."

I have absolutely no idea where this is going to take me. But "Musings from the deep" wants me to keep writing, bless her heart. (Of course, if things go wrong, it's her fault!) It's not that I'm irresponsible, as in won't take responsibility for my actions. I'm actually very responsible; when anything goes wrong around the house, people say I'm responsible. (Bears do not know how to lie; it is not in our nature.)

So you can all come along for the ride. If you get bored, there are a lot of other blogs out there, to which you can go.

And that's the news. I'm Rob-bear.

INSANITY

Insanity is hereditary -- you get it from your children. When they have kids, you have so much fun with them as a grandparent, that they drive their parents insane.

Trust me; I know what I'm talking about.

Jee: is it a conspiracy? D'ya think?