friarjacques
"Naiow, THAT's a knife!!"
Ocular migraine
healthI hate adding new adventures to my vocabulary. One recent morning, I was doing routine stuff, looking at some message on the computer, then fishing through a box of things downstairs, and I noticed that I wasn't seeing too clearly. Went to the bathroom mirror, checked for glop in my eyes, nothing. Noticed that there was an area, about the size of a tilted 3x5 card held at arms length, that looked like the edges had been cut with pinking shears - roughly in the center of vision - and flashing. That's a diamond-shaped area with jaggy edges, for those of you who don't use sewing weaponry.
And it wasn't getting better. But by the time I figured out how to read the eye doctor's phone number and got an appointment, it was going away! Not taking any chances, I had my sister drive me over to the eye doctor in the next town. As expected, they did a full exam with the drops etc. And found nothing; in other words, everything OK. So, after hearing my description of what I saw and what happened - diagnosis: ocular migraine. Classic. And familiar to at least one sibling: "Diamond shapes, prismatic, pulsing, fleeting. It would be really cool if it weren't so disturbing." The doctor said that stress probably triggers it. Might as well be "OCCULT my-brain," as it just went away (the symptoms, that is). But, like a certain cardiac episode, half the treatment is in knowing what the hell is going on so you don't panic about it. For a better explanation, see:
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/ocular-migraine/AN01681
Yes, my "disturbance" was in both eyes, or appeared so. I noticed the jagged edges of the field, and the flashing, much more distinctly with eyes closed. It was, functionally, a pair of large blurry areas, roughly where the normal blind spot is in each eye, but so big that it/they had a dramatic impact with both eyes open. Hard to tell which eye was less affected; I was having trouble seeing 100% of the big, round thermometer out in the yard - it didn't look complete, like the left side was missing. And as I said, I had a hell of a time reading the phone book entry for my eye doctor (BIG BOLD letters, too!), so that was really special.
What alarmed me particularly was the memory of my ancient aunt's experience, when she saw "big fuzzy bears" in her GOOD eye one morning. It turned out they were caused by bleeding. Those were "rafts," not "floaters". [I have known what "floaters" are since I was maybe 7.] But she took no immediate action, because they had an eye doctor appointment a few days hence anyway! The damage was permanent; she is functionally blind. Not knowing what this was in MY head, I was NOT going down THAT path.
But now we know, so the O.M. (although disturbing) is not a cause for panic. The vision part of the episode lasted an hour at most, and it transitioned to a more-or-less "normal" (as opposed to severe) headache, seeming eventually to be more concentrated over my right eye. But what happens AFTER the visual wildness is less important than what goes on DURING it. See weirdness with both eyes closed, it's probably all in your head; one eye, and you might have trouble.
And it wasn't getting better. But by the time I figured out how to read the eye doctor's phone number and got an appointment, it was going away! Not taking any chances, I had my sister drive me over to the eye doctor in the next town. As expected, they did a full exam with the drops etc. And found nothing; in other words, everything OK. So, after hearing my description of what I saw and what happened - diagnosis: ocular migraine. Classic. And familiar to at least one sibling: "Diamond shapes, prismatic, pulsing, fleeting. It would be really cool if it weren't so disturbing." The doctor said that stress probably triggers it. Might as well be "OCCULT my-brain," as it just went away (the symptoms, that is). But, like a certain cardiac episode, half the treatment is in knowing what the hell is going on so you don't panic about it. For a better explanation, see:
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/ocular-migraine/AN01681
Yes, my "disturbance" was in both eyes, or appeared so. I noticed the jagged edges of the field, and the flashing, much more distinctly with eyes closed. It was, functionally, a pair of large blurry areas, roughly where the normal blind spot is in each eye, but so big that it/they had a dramatic impact with both eyes open. Hard to tell which eye was less affected; I was having trouble seeing 100% of the big, round thermometer out in the yard - it didn't look complete, like the left side was missing. And as I said, I had a hell of a time reading the phone book entry for my eye doctor (BIG BOLD letters, too!), so that was really special.
What alarmed me particularly was the memory of my ancient aunt's experience, when she saw "big fuzzy bears" in her GOOD eye one morning. It turned out they were caused by bleeding. Those were "rafts," not "floaters". [I have known what "floaters" are since I was maybe 7.] But she took no immediate action, because they had an eye doctor appointment a few days hence anyway! The damage was permanent; she is functionally blind. Not knowing what this was in MY head, I was NOT going down THAT path.
But now we know, so the O.M. (although disturbing) is not a cause for panic. The vision part of the episode lasted an hour at most, and it transitioned to a more-or-less "normal" (as opposed to severe) headache, seeming eventually to be more concentrated over my right eye. But what happens AFTER the visual wildness is less important than what goes on DURING it. See weirdness with both eyes closed, it's probably all in your head; one eye, and you might have trouble.
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I was visited this morning by a contingent of Jehovah's Witnesses. They bore the usual message: "Hi. I'm Brian, the hot bitch is Amanda. And we think you are WRONG." Annoying as usual, and I let them annoy me. When they show up, unbidden, and get their asses in my face, I feel like dropping my pants and giving them the Full Moon. Well, why not? After all, who was it who advised turning the other cheek? Pun intended. Ooops, my mistake! After telling them to sod off (more or less, but much more politely), I reflected on my attitude.
Not right! I bear them no personal grudge; indeed, I rather feel sorry for them. Maybe even that is too strong. But they're a strange lot, with beliefs that include the number of souls that will enter Heaven. What is it, 218,000? or 144,000? Whatever; the only thing that keeps them from killing each other is that they're afraid that the martyr will get to Heaven in their place. I suspect there are some who would suggest that they do so and decrease the surplus population [thanks, C. Dickens].
I think, on a global level, it is most unfortunate that religion operates as it does to divide and conquer the unwary. Think about it. When any religious person (I was going to say fanatic) attacks your way of thinking or beliefs, they want you to join with them in THEIR flock's beliefs, etc. [Sheep make up flocks. They follow. Thinking isn't part of the process.] And they are blasphemers by their own definition in that they lie about their intent. Read the Commandments - you can go to hell just as well/badly for lying as you can for killing. And what is their intent? World domination. Everyone shall follow MY beliefs, or they don't belong. Tell the truth, folks, sell World Domination T-shirts at your next rummage sale.
When you listen to the arguments about what each of these groups thinks sets them apart from all the others, it becomes ludicrous; rather like:
Do you like chocolate?
So, maybe what I should be doing is, instead of getting huffy when the JWs show up, I should offer to save THEM. And the first thing they should learn is that God [what many call Nature] could care less about what laws we follow or the concept of SIN. There are things we do that offend our fellow beings, and no forgiveness or retribution will correct it. An actual change in the offender's behavior such that they will never repeat the offense would be worthwhile, though. And as for laws, try bargaining with the Almighty for an exemption from the law of gravity after you step off a girder at 300 feet; see if you don't reach the ground faster than if you took the elevator.
The larger problem with religion is the "we" versus "them" mentality. The entire state of Israel, for better or worse, was set up thus. Why? The Jews did not need a "homeland" to survive as a people. [Don't get the idea that I think Israel should be destroyed or told to change their ways. Destruction is wrong, and it's too late for change. We just have to live with what they are. But we don't need to support it.] The Jews have, in my experience in America, the best of both worlds today. They are very clannish, which helps keep their faith alive; they place a high value on education and acheivement, which keeps them in useful jobs; and they integrate well into society. Sure, there are exceptions, and there are some few who have no qualms about short-changing outsiders - but, guess what? That's true of ALL groups, so don't pick on the Hebrews for that. I think the worst thing about the Israel precedent is that other groups have chosen to follow the example, resulting in enclaves of "Our People" who are intolerant of "Your People" and proceed to perform ethnic cleansing. The result is impoverishment all 'round. I guess I suffer from Americanism. My family has been here for so long and is so intermarried that we (my generation) have forgotten the old hates and disputes that plagued our forebears - which include Irish, Saxons, Normans, British, Scots, French, Germans, and who knows what else... have to be some Vikings in there.
There is much to enjoy in life, and being sensual, happy, well-fed, and kind is not sinful - even when you share these expressions with someone who does not believe as you do. So, get out of the church and into the garden, for starters. Commune with nature. Build, plant, and prepare for the next season (which is the easy-to-picture future). That will give you a meaningful reason to get down on your knees.
Not right! I bear them no personal grudge; indeed, I rather feel sorry for them. Maybe even that is too strong. But they're a strange lot, with beliefs that include the number of souls that will enter Heaven. What is it, 218,000? or 144,000? Whatever; the only thing that keeps them from killing each other is that they're afraid that the martyr will get to Heaven in their place. I suspect there are some who would suggest that they do so and decrease the surplus population [thanks, C. Dickens].
I think, on a global level, it is most unfortunate that religion operates as it does to divide and conquer the unwary. Think about it. When any religious person (I was going to say fanatic) attacks your way of thinking or beliefs, they want you to join with them in THEIR flock's beliefs, etc. [Sheep make up flocks. They follow. Thinking isn't part of the process.] And they are blasphemers by their own definition in that they lie about their intent. Read the Commandments - you can go to hell just as well/badly for lying as you can for killing. And what is their intent? World domination. Everyone shall follow MY beliefs, or they don't belong. Tell the truth, folks, sell World Domination T-shirts at your next rummage sale.
When you listen to the arguments about what each of these groups thinks sets them apart from all the others, it becomes ludicrous; rather like:
Do you like chocolate?
Yes...What kind, dark or milk?
Milk, yes...With or without almonds?
Ummm, rather fond of chilli, actually...HERETIC!!!! <screams> <gunshot>
So, maybe what I should be doing is, instead of getting huffy when the JWs show up, I should offer to save THEM. And the first thing they should learn is that God [what many call Nature] could care less about what laws we follow or the concept of SIN. There are things we do that offend our fellow beings, and no forgiveness or retribution will correct it. An actual change in the offender's behavior such that they will never repeat the offense would be worthwhile, though. And as for laws, try bargaining with the Almighty for an exemption from the law of gravity after you step off a girder at 300 feet; see if you don't reach the ground faster than if you took the elevator.
The larger problem with religion is the "we" versus "them" mentality. The entire state of Israel, for better or worse, was set up thus. Why? The Jews did not need a "homeland" to survive as a people. [Don't get the idea that I think Israel should be destroyed or told to change their ways. Destruction is wrong, and it's too late for change. We just have to live with what they are. But we don't need to support it.] The Jews have, in my experience in America, the best of both worlds today. They are very clannish, which helps keep their faith alive; they place a high value on education and acheivement, which keeps them in useful jobs; and they integrate well into society. Sure, there are exceptions, and there are some few who have no qualms about short-changing outsiders - but, guess what? That's true of ALL groups, so don't pick on the Hebrews for that. I think the worst thing about the Israel precedent is that other groups have chosen to follow the example, resulting in enclaves of "Our People" who are intolerant of "Your People" and proceed to perform ethnic cleansing. The result is impoverishment all 'round. I guess I suffer from Americanism. My family has been here for so long and is so intermarried that we (my generation) have forgotten the old hates and disputes that plagued our forebears - which include Irish, Saxons, Normans, British, Scots, French, Germans, and who knows what else... have to be some Vikings in there.
There is much to enjoy in life, and being sensual, happy, well-fed, and kind is not sinful - even when you share these expressions with someone who does not believe as you do. So, get out of the church and into the garden, for starters. Commune with nature. Build, plant, and prepare for the next season (which is the easy-to-picture future). That will give you a meaningful reason to get down on your knees.
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Pushing Back Against the Walls of Darkness
The experience of whacking your finger with a hammer tells you instantly that you have made a mistake, and that you should avoid any repetition. Sharp pain works that way. But a gradual increase in the level of background noise, for example, is easily ignored until you discover that you simply can't hear the music anymore. So it is with grief. The problem with low-grade, long-term depression is that, after awhile, you may forget that you have it. That may sound absurd, but, as we naturally tend to recoil from horrible situations, we work to put them out of our minds. Thus in the aftermath, it's not always obvious that there is anything really wrong and, therefore, that anything needs to be (or can be) corrected.
For the last year, I have been dealing with the unhappy series of events beginning with the discovery that my mother had pancreatic cancer, followed days later with the decision whether or not she would have major surgery, then the rehabilitation process, her full recovery (or so we believed), followed by her gradual decline and death. May to January.
This is, of course, a greatly condensed version of the history. I wanted to write about those last days in January, but it seems pointless now. I knew, the instant Mom and I were told of her condition, that I was depressed. The feeling metamorphosed from intense pain to a dull, constant ache - not the sort of condition that immobilizes, as I was able to go back to productive work after she was out of danger - but there was always a looming presence that reminded me that all was not well with my world. What is important today, three months after her death, is that I now know I am emerging from that depression.
In the midst of the gloom, it is hard to see the fog for the mist. But I had enough confidence in my recovery ability to keep moving forward, expecting that there would eventually be a break in the murk, and that there would be a hint of blue sky (if not actual sunlight). When faced with overwhelming, seemingly insurmountable troubles, the best thing to do is continue doing the small, everyday things - because they must be done. The laundry and the dirty dishes won't take care of themselves. Food must come into the house. Garbage goes out. Projects - those things you really wanted to do when you felt like a normal human - can wait. There will be a better time. Let's face it, if you don't feel like having fun, you can't and therefore won't.
Today has been much better. I have been very productive, in my scatterbrained way; I also know that my garden, for example, will recover from last year's neglect. I also recognize that there may be more days ahead when, for no apparent reason, I can't get out of my own way. As executor of her estate, there are more challenges to face, but, in perspective, they are just material irritations. So be it! Better days are earned, they don't just show up at your door. Keep the faith, move forward as best you can, find peace.
For the last year, I have been dealing with the unhappy series of events beginning with the discovery that my mother had pancreatic cancer, followed days later with the decision whether or not she would have major surgery, then the rehabilitation process, her full recovery (or so we believed), followed by her gradual decline and death. May to January.
This is, of course, a greatly condensed version of the history. I wanted to write about those last days in January, but it seems pointless now. I knew, the instant Mom and I were told of her condition, that I was depressed. The feeling metamorphosed from intense pain to a dull, constant ache - not the sort of condition that immobilizes, as I was able to go back to productive work after she was out of danger - but there was always a looming presence that reminded me that all was not well with my world. What is important today, three months after her death, is that I now know I am emerging from that depression.
In the midst of the gloom, it is hard to see the fog for the mist. But I had enough confidence in my recovery ability to keep moving forward, expecting that there would eventually be a break in the murk, and that there would be a hint of blue sky (if not actual sunlight). When faced with overwhelming, seemingly insurmountable troubles, the best thing to do is continue doing the small, everyday things - because they must be done. The laundry and the dirty dishes won't take care of themselves. Food must come into the house. Garbage goes out. Projects - those things you really wanted to do when you felt like a normal human - can wait. There will be a better time. Let's face it, if you don't feel like having fun, you can't and therefore won't.
Today has been much better. I have been very productive, in my scatterbrained way; I also know that my garden, for example, will recover from last year's neglect. I also recognize that there may be more days ahead when, for no apparent reason, I can't get out of my own way. As executor of her estate, there are more challenges to face, but, in perspective, they are just material irritations. So be it! Better days are earned, they don't just show up at your door. Keep the faith, move forward as best you can, find peace.
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Louise Zimmerman Crozier died at her home in Cinnaminson on January 21, 2008, at the age of 86. Louise was a Moorestown, NJ resident for over twenty years.
Born Louise Kemp Zimmerman in Greensburg, PA in 1921, she was the fourth of five children. A modest upbringing in a crowded house would form her values as much as did the Depression and World War II. As with most of her generation, the war made a seismic impact on her life, and Louise joined the SPARS (acronym for the Coast Guard motto, Semper Paratus Always Ready) in 1943. A series of transfers saw training and duty in the Bronx, NY; Madison, Wisconsin; Chicago; Cleveland; and finally, Detroit. Louise's contributions included radio school, file clerking, and recruiting efforts. For a “small-town girl,” her travels were eye-opening, if at times lonely. Louise’s common escape was music. Violin playing was her gateway to radio school where, alas, “the code didn’t come in my ears and out my fingertips as it should.” However, while stationed in Chicago, it was music appreciation that led to a chance and fateful meeting in the USO music room with John Baker Crozier. Though their courtship was brief (John was shortly dispatched to the South Pacific as a Technical Sergeant), they continued via mail for the duration of the war. John was discharged in December 1945, and they were married the following month.
John and Louise started a family in 1948, living for spells in Iowa, Maryland, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, before taking a more permanent residence on Kings Highway in Moorestown. There, Louise raised her six children into adulthood. Though somewhat shy and private, she was nevertheless gracious and welcoming, becoming an integral part of the Moorestown community. Louise showed little interest in social networking; she was committed to helping the aged; mending books and clothes; and working with the needy. She gave to international charities, but her primary commitment was local. Remembers a close friend, “She was always busy, running to her garden and back. She was oblivious to fashion, never wore makeup, always wore simple clothes she may have made herself, out of natural material, always with pockets. Louise was my mentor; I would not be who I am now had I not happened to move in next door to her.” The gardening reference is significant: Louise was a farmer at heart, and her ever-expanding garden was an agricultural lab of heirloom vegetables and fruits, dozens of herbs, and the wildflowers she would incorporate into exquisite dried arrangements. Her children and others were similarly inspired as a result.
Louise defined simplicity and practicality, and she wasn’t pious about it. She made no attempt to wield influence; rather, she provided a template for effective parenting. First and foremost, she loved her family without reservation. She was generous in spirit, accepting of differences, discouraged conflict, and believed that if you gave your offspring space to learn and grow on their on terms, they would forge independent paths, but always come home to visit. And she was right – her six very diverse children gravitated to their parents throughout 50-plus years of marriage, and remain close with each other today. Louise knew the value of life and didn’t waste it. She also faced death with dignity, caring for John through difficult illnesses during his last years (John died in 2002), despite being in her 80s. Louise is survived by her brother Robert; her sisters Alice and Jane; her children John, Katherine, Ruth, William, Barbara, and David; and seven grandchildren.
Born Louise Kemp Zimmerman in Greensburg, PA in 1921, she was the fourth of five children. A modest upbringing in a crowded house would form her values as much as did the Depression and World War II. As with most of her generation, the war made a seismic impact on her life, and Louise joined the SPARS (acronym for the Coast Guard motto, Semper Paratus Always Ready) in 1943. A series of transfers saw training and duty in the Bronx, NY; Madison, Wisconsin; Chicago; Cleveland; and finally, Detroit. Louise's contributions included radio school, file clerking, and recruiting efforts. For a “small-town girl,” her travels were eye-opening, if at times lonely. Louise’s common escape was music. Violin playing was her gateway to radio school where, alas, “the code didn’t come in my ears and out my fingertips as it should.” However, while stationed in Chicago, it was music appreciation that led to a chance and fateful meeting in the USO music room with John Baker Crozier. Though their courtship was brief (John was shortly dispatched to the South Pacific as a Technical Sergeant), they continued via mail for the duration of the war. John was discharged in December 1945, and they were married the following month.
John and Louise started a family in 1948, living for spells in Iowa, Maryland, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, before taking a more permanent residence on Kings Highway in Moorestown. There, Louise raised her six children into adulthood. Though somewhat shy and private, she was nevertheless gracious and welcoming, becoming an integral part of the Moorestown community. Louise showed little interest in social networking; she was committed to helping the aged; mending books and clothes; and working with the needy. She gave to international charities, but her primary commitment was local. Remembers a close friend, “She was always busy, running to her garden and back. She was oblivious to fashion, never wore makeup, always wore simple clothes she may have made herself, out of natural material, always with pockets. Louise was my mentor; I would not be who I am now had I not happened to move in next door to her.” The gardening reference is significant: Louise was a farmer at heart, and her ever-expanding garden was an agricultural lab of heirloom vegetables and fruits, dozens of herbs, and the wildflowers she would incorporate into exquisite dried arrangements. Her children and others were similarly inspired as a result.
Louise defined simplicity and practicality, and she wasn’t pious about it. She made no attempt to wield influence; rather, she provided a template for effective parenting. First and foremost, she loved her family without reservation. She was generous in spirit, accepting of differences, discouraged conflict, and believed that if you gave your offspring space to learn and grow on their on terms, they would forge independent paths, but always come home to visit. And she was right – her six very diverse children gravitated to their parents throughout 50-plus years of marriage, and remain close with each other today. Louise knew the value of life and didn’t waste it. She also faced death with dignity, caring for John through difficult illnesses during his last years (John died in 2002), despite being in her 80s. Louise is survived by her brother Robert; her sisters Alice and Jane; her children John, Katherine, Ruth, William, Barbara, and David; and seven grandchildren.
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Gooogle
So who is Google and why is he/she so interested in my dull page, but never leaves me a note? j/k - seeing how the hell many hits (daily for awhile) in the Visitors log that say "Google" ...
I haven't had much to say lately - not that there isn't a lot going on, it's just that I haven't built a network out here in cyberspace. [In a sense, I feel I no longer have anyone to talk to out here.] My initial motivation to join Mindsay was to send a thank-you note to someone who had some interesting information posted. Then I spent some time browsing incoming messages on my lunchtime break, and met an interesting kid with whom I shared a teasing, fun, and really nice relationship for awhile. But eventually she had some sort of crisis, perhaps, and didn't want any further contact from people she didn't know in person - understandable from a 15-year old with a troubled family history. You should respect the wishes of others, even when they clash with yours.
So, now that I am no longer "working for a living" on a regular schedule, it seems that I have even LESS time to hang about online. Still putting up with a dial-up connection, so it takes too long to surf extensively... yes, it's time for DSL, and soon I'll work on that, but there are so many catch-up issues to deal with right here in the house. My 15th-century living history hobby is screaming about a pole lathe, a new doublet, toys for the kids in camp. And someone wants a table that we designed about, oh, 6 years ago...
Not bored. Early retirement is a very good thing. Missing a nice girl in my life, but better missing a nice one than being stuck in a nightmare with a nasty one who looks hot. Patience is a virtue, but being out there looking is more productive.
It also helps to pay attention. Have a Happy New Year.
I haven't had much to say lately - not that there isn't a lot going on, it's just that I haven't built a network out here in cyberspace. [In a sense, I feel I no longer have anyone to talk to out here.] My initial motivation to join Mindsay was to send a thank-you note to someone who had some interesting information posted. Then I spent some time browsing incoming messages on my lunchtime break, and met an interesting kid with whom I shared a teasing, fun, and really nice relationship for awhile. But eventually she had some sort of crisis, perhaps, and didn't want any further contact from people she didn't know in person - understandable from a 15-year old with a troubled family history. You should respect the wishes of others, even when they clash with yours.
So, now that I am no longer "working for a living" on a regular schedule, it seems that I have even LESS time to hang about online. Still putting up with a dial-up connection, so it takes too long to surf extensively... yes, it's time for DSL, and soon I'll work on that, but there are so many catch-up issues to deal with right here in the house. My 15th-century living history hobby is screaming about a pole lathe, a new doublet, toys for the kids in camp. And someone wants a table that we designed about, oh, 6 years ago...
Not bored. Early retirement is a very good thing. Missing a nice girl in my life, but better missing a nice one than being stuck in a nightmare with a nasty one who looks hot. Patience is a virtue, but being out there looking is more productive.
It also helps to pay attention. Have a Happy New Year.
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