Archive for blogging

Things Facebook can’t do

Posted in this-n-that, work, writing with tags , , , on May 5, 2009 by bosquechica

Post recipes, talk about gardening, my patients, neurology, communication, politics and religion, salt and pepper. A little simple reflective blogging on the nature of things. Seems good.

The chickens and the guinea fowl are grown now. The guineas are named Thing 1 and Thing 2 (there are 17 of them). The chickens are setting, do not disturb. The geese suffered in a late winter coyote raid, and we have one young female who is grieving the loss of her companion. We will bring home a gosling in her breed in a few days.

The fruit trees made it past the last frost and I believe we will have pears, apples and plums this year.

It is officially the season of fresh food, and I will post new recipes at a more reasonable hour.

Bosquechica spring migration

Posted in nice things, seasonal, this-n-that, writing with tags , , , , on March 24, 2009 by bosquechica

Went away for awhile. Facebook. I admit it: I was unfaithful.

Facebook makes a continuous humming sound, like bees in their hives in high summer. Fascinating. Comments are short, relevance is questionable, connectivity is enticing but not necessarily functional.

I’ve located some long losts. That is fun. Had time to think about the function of this blog. No conclusions as of yet.

My writing group is up and running splendidly. We are weekly now, every Monday from 7-9 p.m. Good writing, energy is on the rise. My hands still go numb if I type very much. This is cramping my style, but is gradually easing up.

I love that this is spring. I love that I am on vacation this week. I love that I’m back involved in the dance and theater community at long last.

I’ll be back again when the study is more picked up.

Hesitantly returning

Posted in body, health, insomnia, life-n-death, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , on February 3, 2009 by bosquechica

ramona-lifting-weights

I haven’t written anything for months, mostly because of the nasty shoulder injuries that were keeping me from doing anything at all. I think I’m ready to write again, but I’m nervous and shy, have regained my blogging virginity, and have been wondering if I have a damn thing to say.

So, since it’s all about me and all, I thought I’d write about prolotherapy, which is the treatment I chose for my shoulders (yes, both of them).

Prolo therapy is a non-surgical intervention for torn ligaments and tendons. According to the prolo pros over at prolotherapy.com,

Prolotherapy uses a dextrose (sugar water) solution, which is injected into the ligament or tendon where it attaches to the bone. This causes a localized inflammation in these weak areas which then increases the blood supply and flow of nutrients and stimulates the tissue to repair itself.

Let me just say that, after I spent a couple of years skirting around the issue of living vs. dying and being repeatedly slit from my guzzle to my zatch, I came finally through that experience weaker and more wobbly than I knew was possible. Everything I did hurt, everything I did caused a new injury. In about 18 months, I sprained my ankles twice, got a hernia while on a tiny little super easy bike ride, and tore ligaments in both my shoulders. This sucked beyond my ability to convey, but was at least better than actually being dead.

I stopped sleeping, due to pain, started taking vicodin, due to pain, and slid into a vague, extended and tiresome period of being afraid to do anything. Let me say, this did not seem to be an actual depression, although it was depressing. More, it seemed like my body wasn’t willing to carry me anymore, and I was tired, and tired of pain. From some angles, I look like Frankenstein, a constructed being, scars shooting out in all directions, lit more by lightning than by nature.
frankenstein11

So. That did sound a bit depressed, eh?

I am a bit driven, by temperament, and this sloshing around in a half stupid hydrocodone fog, alternating with bright and angry pain, did not suit me overmuch. Hence the prolotherapy, after assorted other modalities did not do the trick.

Here’s what they do, and let me tell you it hurts like holy hell:

prolo-therapy1

The needles feel huge, no, enormous, and for about 30 days after the injections the pain was worse, massively and unbearably worse, which made me feel like a complete idjit. Pass the vicodin, please.

Then one day about a month after, it stopped. Not 100%, but about 80%, not bad, not bad at all. I stopped taking vicodin, and switched to ibuprofen with a very mild pain pill on the side. Stopped taking anything in the daytime, and now I’m taking the pain pill at night just two or three times a week.

As soon as the pain stopped, I started lifting weights and going to the gym (still working on frequency, but really I’ve always liked weights, so it feels good to be able to do it at all). I’m starting to sleep again, intermittently. My brain and body are starting to feel better, not well, quite, but better.

I’ve been driving my wife crazy with my bad sleep, chronic pain and forgetfulness (goes with the other two). And I’ve been driving myself crazy with the sensation that my body is the enemy, and that my brain has gone utterly to mush, never to be its own vigorous, adventurous and imaginative self ever again.

 I will let you know how this goes. It’s the old body-mind connection, can’t have the one without the other. I knew that. Wish me luck.

I’ll be back.

brain-exercise

Chickens with singers’ names

Posted in job stuff, life, names, random, this-n-that, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , on March 11, 2008 by bosquechica
clearly you should buy these products

  Today someone found Trees for the Forest by searching “chickens with singers’ names”. I love that. I wish I had a chicken named Aretha Franklin or maybe Lori Anderson or Bono. I replicated the search (not having anything else to do, apparently) and was surprised to find Moonbeam McQueen at the top of the list. Small world, isn’t it?

I’ll be getting back to work here at Trees. So many things to say. Marriage, family, animals, springtime, woeful feelings, career indecision, poetry, politics, my ongoing discussion with myself about what I want to be when I grow up and I wish it was a beachcomber, like it always says on the Chinese astrology placemats. But enough about me. My main point is I’m trying to come out from under the bed and join in again.