Here, in case you haven't been paying close attention, is a quick recap of Ellie's recent medical history (Ellie is my wife of, lo, these nearly forty-five years):
2006 -- Excruciating pain in Ellie's left shoulder. Dr. D., orthopaedic surgeon extraordinaire, checks the X-rays and prescribes a month of physical therapy. Therapy doesn't help. Dr. D. sends Ellie for an MRI. Turns out she has a torn rotator cuff in her left shoulder. In October, Dr. D. performs surgery to repair the torn rotator cuff. More physical therapy follows.
2007 -- Physical therapy continues. Ellie experiences excruciating pain in both knees. X-rays reveal she is walking bone-on-bone, no cartilage, no meniscus. Dr. D. injects several rounds of Euflexxa, a synthetic version of the Synvisc injections Ellie received three or four years ago, into both of Ellie's knees as a temporary measure until he can schedule knee-replacement surgery.
2008 -- In January, Dr. D. performs surgery to replace Ellie's right knee. Somehow, while pulling up on the side rails in a hospital bed in January, Ellie injures her right shoulder. After a month of physical therapy on Ellie's right knee, Dr. D. schedules knee-replacement surgery on Ellie's left knee for the end of March. He also sends her for another MRI to see what's going on with her right shoulder. Yesterday, after examining the MRI results, Dr. D. informed Ellie that her right shoulder also has a torn rotator cuff.
So now, having had one major surgery this year already, Ellie is facing another major surgery at the end of March and a third one later in the year. Plus lots more physical therapy. And even though she likes Cindy, her physical therapist, very much, Ellie is not a happy camper right now.
Ellie's recovery has been remarkable to date and even ahead of schedule. She knows she will get through the rest of this with the prayers of friends and family. Her right knee and left shoulder are now excellent. We are looking forward to the day when her left knee and right shoulder are equally excellent. Ellie says she will dance a jig for everybody then. I'm going to be first in line.
Showing posts with label Ellie's knee surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ellie's knee surgery. Show all posts
Friday, March 14, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
An update on Ellie
Tomorrow will make three weeks since Ellie underwent surgery for replacement of her right knee. This past Thursday evening, Esther B. came over with a meal for us and brought Carolyn H. along as navigator. One of them -- I'm not saying which one, but Esther doesn't own a computer -- said I was falling down on my job because she had been reading my blog and I was not keeping people informed about Ellie's progress.
So today I am taking pen in hand, I mean putting fingertips to keyboard, and giving you an update. Among the things we have had intimate knowledge of in the last three weeks and have now dispensed with entirely are:
• Thrice-weekly visits by the home-health-care physical therapist
• Twice-weekly visits by the home-health-care registered nurse
• Frequent checking of Ellie's blood-glucose levels (they have returned to the normal range)
• A portable potty chair
• A wheeled walker
• Thirty-seven (37) staples in Ellie's knee
Some of these items have been relegated to the garage, some have been put away in a cabinet, some have been thrown in the trash, and some have been sent on their way with our thanks. I'll let you guess which are which. Ellie still needs to wear a brace while sleeping to prevent her leg from moving the wrong way accidentally.
My job description has changed from personal-care provider and server of brought-in food to the more ordinary tasks of preparing food and cleaning up afterwards, doing laundry and folding it and putting it away, chauffeuring Ellie to the twice-weekly outpatient physical therapy sessions, and trying generally to encourage her. Yesterday was a day for special rejoicing as we drove over to Frank and Rose S.'s place and retrieved our dog, Jethro, from his three-week vacation at his favorite doggie dude-ranch. He seems a little bewildered but glad to be back home. Add walking the dog to that list of tasks.
Thanks to everyone for the cards and telephone calls and food and prayers and other expressions of concern during this time.
So today I am taking pen in hand, I mean putting fingertips to keyboard, and giving you an update. Among the things we have had intimate knowledge of in the last three weeks and have now dispensed with entirely are:
• Thrice-weekly visits by the home-health-care physical therapist
• Twice-weekly visits by the home-health-care registered nurse
• Frequent checking of Ellie's blood-glucose levels (they have returned to the normal range)
• A portable potty chair
• A wheeled walker
• Thirty-seven (37) staples in Ellie's knee
Some of these items have been relegated to the garage, some have been put away in a cabinet, some have been thrown in the trash, and some have been sent on their way with our thanks. I'll let you guess which are which. Ellie still needs to wear a brace while sleeping to prevent her leg from moving the wrong way accidentally.
My job description has changed from personal-care provider and server of brought-in food to the more ordinary tasks of preparing food and cleaning up afterwards, doing laundry and folding it and putting it away, chauffeuring Ellie to the twice-weekly outpatient physical therapy sessions, and trying generally to encourage her. Yesterday was a day for special rejoicing as we drove over to Frank and Rose S.'s place and retrieved our dog, Jethro, from his three-week vacation at his favorite doggie dude-ranch. He seems a little bewildered but glad to be back home. Add walking the dog to that list of tasks.
Thanks to everyone for the cards and telephone calls and food and prayers and other expressions of concern during this time.
Monday, January 21, 2008
The Blue and the Gray
This was a busy weekend in our household. Yesterday, January 20th, was our daughter-in-law's birthday and tomorrow, January 22nd, is our daughter's birthday. Our daughter had planned to drive over from Birmingham on Saturday to spend part of the three-day weekend with us. She teaches third grade and the schools were going to be closed on Monday for the observance of Martin Luther King's birthday. But Alabama's weather forecasters were predicting snow on Saturday so she drove over with Sawyer and Sam on Friday evening instead. Our son-in-law couldn't make the trip this time because he had to work on Saturday.
We planned a family get-together for Saturday that was supposed to emphasize the casual family atmosphere aspects and de-emphasize the birthday-celebration aspects and just be a "because we want to and because we love each other" get-together. On Saturday morning North Georgia had some more snow (twice in one year is unheard of around here, let alone twice in one week) with predictions of icy roads by late afternoon and temperatures dropping into the teens by Sunday morning. My older son, who is married to the daughter-in-law having the birthday, thought it best not to make the hour-long trip to our house because they might not be able to get back home, but my younger son, who is married to the daughter-in-law whose birthday is not until July, lives closer and he decided to drive over anyway. Elijah and Noah and Sawyer and Sam built a snowman in the front yard, complete with the straw hat I wear while mowing the lawn and an orange scarf promoting Auburn University, courtesy of the Birmingham bunch. On Sunday the roads were not icy, so our older son's family came over in the early afternoon for a visit as well. So our daughter was able to see both of her brothers and her sisters-in-law, but the brothers and the sisters-in-law didn't get to see one another this time. Sam and Sawyer saw all of their cousins, but Matthew and Ansley didn't get to see Elijah and Noah. There will be, we trust, many more times for other get-togethers with all in attendance.
We didn't have to rush to the supermarket to stock up on the basics like so many of our panic-stricken fellow citizens were doing because all week long the folks from the church choir have been bringing fabulous meals in copious amounts to our house to help us out during Ellie's recuperation. (Note. On Saturday Ellie was able to walk without the aid of a walker for the first time since the surgery on her knee.) So our thanks go out to Terri H., Steve and Kristi A., Cheryl and Dave M., Gwen M., Bruce and Judy C., Walter & Margaret T., Lori and Jeff R., and Alicia J. for all of your hard work, culinary talent, time taken, and love expressed in such a tangible way. I think we have food enough to last another week, and for that we are grateful. And also for Patti C. who brought over two DVDs of gospel music for us to watch and listen to, and for Peggy N., our neighbor on the hillside, who brought over a cute, plush toy frog that reminds Ellie and me daily that we can Fully Rely On God.
I said all that to say this. In all the hubbub of birthdays and snowman-building and post-op victories and photo opportunities and lots of people coming and going, January 19th slipped right past me unnoticed. January 19th is--don't laugh, please--the birthday of Robert E. Lee, and since I am a member of Kappa Alpha Order (Xi chapter, 1959), the same Kappa Alpha Order of which General Lee is practically the patron saint, I have always remembered when it was his birthday. I know some of you think this is a bit weird. I do it anyway, and it in no way lessens my admiration for the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday was actually last Tuesday, not today. Robert E. Lee, who led the Confederate forces in their gray uniforms during the U. S. Civil War (1861-1865), was a Christian gentleman who became president of Washington College (now Washington and Lee University) in Virginia after the war ended. Kappa Alpha Order was founded there in 1865. Ulysses S. Grant, who led the Union forces in their blue uniforms, was a brilliant military strategist who became a President of the United States even though he had a problem with alcohol. Both of them were graduates of West Point. The nation remained intact, for which all of us should be thankful, and the healing was already underway as early as 1867 when some ladies in Mississippi visited a cemetery and laid flowers on the graves of both Union and Confederate dead. Surely even Abraham Lincoln, who had been killed by John Wilkes Booth two years earlier, would have approved of their act. It helped speed reconciliation and forgiveness at a time when much of the nation was still bitterly divided in the war's aftermath. And it was noted in a newspaper article that was read by one Francis Miles Finch, who wrote the following poem:
The Blue and the Gray
by Francis Miles Finch
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep on the ranks of the dead;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat;
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours,
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers,
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the roses, the Blue;
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So, with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue;
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;
In the storm of the years that are fading,
No braver battle was won;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.
No more shall the war-cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever,
When they laurel the graves of our dead.
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Love and tears for the Blue;
Tears and love for the Gray.
I hope General Lee's admirers will forgive me for missing his birthday.
We planned a family get-together for Saturday that was supposed to emphasize the casual family atmosphere aspects and de-emphasize the birthday-celebration aspects and just be a "because we want to and because we love each other" get-together. On Saturday morning North Georgia had some more snow (twice in one year is unheard of around here, let alone twice in one week) with predictions of icy roads by late afternoon and temperatures dropping into the teens by Sunday morning. My older son, who is married to the daughter-in-law having the birthday, thought it best not to make the hour-long trip to our house because they might not be able to get back home, but my younger son, who is married to the daughter-in-law whose birthday is not until July, lives closer and he decided to drive over anyway. Elijah and Noah and Sawyer and Sam built a snowman in the front yard, complete with the straw hat I wear while mowing the lawn and an orange scarf promoting Auburn University, courtesy of the Birmingham bunch. On Sunday the roads were not icy, so our older son's family came over in the early afternoon for a visit as well. So our daughter was able to see both of her brothers and her sisters-in-law, but the brothers and the sisters-in-law didn't get to see one another this time. Sam and Sawyer saw all of their cousins, but Matthew and Ansley didn't get to see Elijah and Noah. There will be, we trust, many more times for other get-togethers with all in attendance.
We didn't have to rush to the supermarket to stock up on the basics like so many of our panic-stricken fellow citizens were doing because all week long the folks from the church choir have been bringing fabulous meals in copious amounts to our house to help us out during Ellie's recuperation. (Note. On Saturday Ellie was able to walk without the aid of a walker for the first time since the surgery on her knee.) So our thanks go out to Terri H., Steve and Kristi A., Cheryl and Dave M., Gwen M., Bruce and Judy C., Walter & Margaret T., Lori and Jeff R., and Alicia J. for all of your hard work, culinary talent, time taken, and love expressed in such a tangible way. I think we have food enough to last another week, and for that we are grateful. And also for Patti C. who brought over two DVDs of gospel music for us to watch and listen to, and for Peggy N., our neighbor on the hillside, who brought over a cute, plush toy frog that reminds Ellie and me daily that we can Fully Rely On God.
I said all that to say this. In all the hubbub of birthdays and snowman-building and post-op victories and photo opportunities and lots of people coming and going, January 19th slipped right past me unnoticed. January 19th is--don't laugh, please--the birthday of Robert E. Lee, and since I am a member of Kappa Alpha Order (Xi chapter, 1959), the same Kappa Alpha Order of which General Lee is practically the patron saint, I have always remembered when it was his birthday. I know some of you think this is a bit weird. I do it anyway, and it in no way lessens my admiration for the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday was actually last Tuesday, not today. Robert E. Lee, who led the Confederate forces in their gray uniforms during the U. S. Civil War (1861-1865), was a Christian gentleman who became president of Washington College (now Washington and Lee University) in Virginia after the war ended. Kappa Alpha Order was founded there in 1865. Ulysses S. Grant, who led the Union forces in their blue uniforms, was a brilliant military strategist who became a President of the United States even though he had a problem with alcohol. Both of them were graduates of West Point. The nation remained intact, for which all of us should be thankful, and the healing was already underway as early as 1867 when some ladies in Mississippi visited a cemetery and laid flowers on the graves of both Union and Confederate dead. Surely even Abraham Lincoln, who had been killed by John Wilkes Booth two years earlier, would have approved of their act. It helped speed reconciliation and forgiveness at a time when much of the nation was still bitterly divided in the war's aftermath. And it was noted in a newspaper article that was read by one Francis Miles Finch, who wrote the following poem:
The Blue and the Gray
by Francis Miles Finch
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep on the ranks of the dead;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat;
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours,
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers,
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the roses, the Blue;
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So, with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue;
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;
In the storm of the years that are fading,
No braver battle was won;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.
No more shall the war-cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever,
When they laurel the graves of our dead.
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Love and tears for the Blue;
Tears and love for the Gray.
I hope General Lee's admirers will forgive me for missing his birthday.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The aftermath of a hospital stay
The orthopedic surgeon replaced Ellie's knee last Monday, and the hospital let her go home on Thursday afternoon. Since then, she has been improving every day. Her walker and bedside commode and Arixtra syringes and blood-glucose-testing thingy are all at the ready. I have been helping her with such activities as getting into and out of bed, emptying the commode, doing laundry, making the bed, bringing various medicines, bathing, et cetera, et cetera (as Yul Brynner said in The King and I). A physical therapist came on Friday and also a visiting registered nurse. The physical therapist will be coming by three times a week and the visiting nurse will be visiting on Mondays and Thursdays.
Now for the really important stuff. Yesterday our daughter-in-law brought over a turkey/wild rice/broccoli/cheese casserole, and her mother sent along two quarts of homemade vegetable beef soup, a pan of cornbread, and a Coca-Cola® cake. Today our neighbor Debra from across the street brought over a piping hot dish of macaroni and cheese. Beginning tomorrow, several ladies from the church choir, all of whom are excellent cooks, will provide our evening meal for about a week. In the food department, things are not just looking up, they have never looked better. I mention this only because four days of eating in a hospital cafeteria left much to be desired. My other daughter-in-law did rescue me with two suppers and a breakfast at her home, I must admit. But at the hospital I rejected most of the offerings as completely unappetizing and probably inedible. On one occasion I settled on a scrumptious (not!), well-balanced meal of greasy French fries, a taco made of mystery meat, and a dish of banana pudding. You use your food pyramid; I'll use mine. In my defense, Ellie says I can make a mean scrambled egg and an even meaner BLT sandwich.
Seriously, your continued prayers for Ellie (and me, if you think of it) are greatly appreciated and play no small part in her recovery.
Now for the really important stuff. Yesterday our daughter-in-law brought over a turkey/wild rice/broccoli/cheese casserole, and her mother sent along two quarts of homemade vegetable beef soup, a pan of cornbread, and a Coca-Cola® cake. Today our neighbor Debra from across the street brought over a piping hot dish of macaroni and cheese. Beginning tomorrow, several ladies from the church choir, all of whom are excellent cooks, will provide our evening meal for about a week. In the food department, things are not just looking up, they have never looked better. I mention this only because four days of eating in a hospital cafeteria left much to be desired. My other daughter-in-law did rescue me with two suppers and a breakfast at her home, I must admit. But at the hospital I rejected most of the offerings as completely unappetizing and probably inedible. On one occasion I settled on a scrumptious (not!), well-balanced meal of greasy French fries, a taco made of mystery meat, and a dish of banana pudding. You use your food pyramid; I'll use mine. In my defense, Ellie says I can make a mean scrambled egg and an even meaner BLT sandwich.
Seriously, your continued prayers for Ellie (and me, if you think of it) are greatly appreciated and play no small part in her recovery.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
We interrupt this short intermission to bring you an important announcement:
God is still on the throne.
At church this morning the anthem by the choir was, "Thou, O Lord, Are A Shield For Me," a magnificent setting of the first five verses of Psalm 3. The accompaniment was an orchestral track from a project produced by the great Prestonwood Baptist Church choir in Dallas, Texas, and even though their choir has 400 singers and ours has about 25, I think they would have heartily approved. The song has become something of a theme song at our church, and whenever the choir sings it, every member sings with great conviction, and every member obviously believes the message being conveyed. You can see it in their demeanor and in their faces. You can certainly hear it in their voices; some people say that angels must be joining in. More importantly, many in the congregation are stirred to worship openly.
First the women sing in unison in E minor, "Many are they increased that trouble me! Many are they that rise up against me." Then the men sing, also in unison, "Many there be which say of my soul, 'There is no help for him in God.'” The choir then breaks into four-part harmony in G major, proclaiming, "But thou, O LORD, are a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter of my head!"
Next comes a sort of awe-filled bridge, "I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and He heard me out of His holy hill. I laid me down and slept; and awaked; for the LORD sustained me." Finally, the phrase "Thou, O LORD, are a shield for me: my glory, and the lifter of my head!" is repeated several times through several half-step rising key changes (G, Ab, A, Bb) with an ending tag for added emphasis, "My glory, and the lifter of my head!" It is truly a song of triumph and of victory, an example of how faith overcomes in the midst of depression and adversity.
Ellie's suitcase is all packed for tomorrow morning's trip to the hospital for her surgery. One of her favorite Bible passages is from Psalm 121: "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, who made heaven and earth." What will help us through these days is the sure knowledge that He is a shield for us, our glory, and the lifter of our heads.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short intermission
Ellie is entering the hospital on Monday to undergo surgery that will replace her right knee with titanium and ceramics and "I don't know what all" (as Andy Griffith used to say). Preparing for this event and then supporting her emotionally and physically will be my full-time job for the next little while, so blogging is going to have to take a back seat until we get on the other side of this. The length of the inter-mission is unknown, but there is probably going to be surgery to replace Ellie's left knee as well in the not-too-distant future. And lots of rehab.
So au revoir, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, adios, and arrivederci for the time being. It's been fun.
So au revoir, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, adios, and arrivederci for the time being. It's been fun.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve, trees, and the BBC
Today is Christmas Eve and we have a full day ahead of us. All the gifts have been purchased but about half of them still need to be wrapped. Jethro has an appointment to be groomed at 9:00 a.m. in Woodstock, fifteen miles away. I still have to put up the eight-foot tree and decorate it and set up the creche on the credenza in the foyer and set out the pre-lit trees on either side of the front door. Somewhere in there before the family arrives I also will be cleaning the house--vacuuming and dusting and scrubbing the kitchen floor and making the bathrooms presentable. There is a bit of a reprieve this year, though: our family get-together won't occur until Thursday, the 27th, partly because my policeman son-in-law in Alabama changed jobs this year and now his days off are Thursday and Friday.
In other years, the tree would have been up for a week or two already, but this year the time just got away from us, what with Ellie having to attend Joint Replacement Class and get lab work done and be cleared for her knee replacement surgery on January 7th. When I was a child, we never had a tree until Christmas morning and I was told that Santa brought it. Of course, it was only a three-ft. table-top tree, not the eight-foot monster I have to deal with today. Our church in Roswell is having a Christmas Eve Candlelight Service at 6:00 p.m., but we probably won't go this year. This evening we will be driving back to Woodstock to eat Christmas Eve dinner with my son and daughter-in-law, the boys, and their other grandmother who has driven up from Florida. We've also been invited back for Christmas morning breakfast. Our oldest son is participating in our other daughter-in-law's family's activities and we'll see them on Thursday along with all the other kids and grandkids. We don't care when we see everybody; we're just glad we get to see them.
I hope Jethro's appointment doesn't interfere with what has become one of my favorite Chritmas Eve traditions, one I heartily recommend. For some years now, I have turned the radio on to the Public Broadcasting station at 10:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time on December 24th and listened to the live, worldwide broadcast by the BBC of the Christmas Eve service, A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols, from the chapel of Kings College, Cambridge University, Cambridge, England, featuring their world-famous boys choir. The program always begins with a single boy soprano singing "Once In Royal David's City" a capella to start the processional and ends ninety minutes later with a resoundingly satisfying rendition of "O Come, All Ye Faithful" with full-organ accompaniment. In between are some of the most beautiful choral music pieces and virtuoso organ playing you will ever hear, interspersed with readings of Scripture having to do with the birth of Christ. Each speaker ends his segment with the words, "Thanks be to God." It is always magnificent and it never fails to inspire. A couple of years it was also televised.
If I miss the broadcast because of Jethro's grooming appointment, I'll still be there in spirit. [Update: I missed the first half-hour, but I was rewarded for my lateness with "Ding, Dong, Merrily On High, Hosanna In Excelsis."]
In other years, the tree would have been up for a week or two already, but this year the time just got away from us, what with Ellie having to attend Joint Replacement Class and get lab work done and be cleared for her knee replacement surgery on January 7th. When I was a child, we never had a tree until Christmas morning and I was told that Santa brought it. Of course, it was only a three-ft. table-top tree, not the eight-foot monster I have to deal with today. Our church in Roswell is having a Christmas Eve Candlelight Service at 6:00 p.m., but we probably won't go this year. This evening we will be driving back to Woodstock to eat Christmas Eve dinner with my son and daughter-in-law, the boys, and their other grandmother who has driven up from Florida. We've also been invited back for Christmas morning breakfast. Our oldest son is participating in our other daughter-in-law's family's activities and we'll see them on Thursday along with all the other kids and grandkids. We don't care when we see everybody; we're just glad we get to see them.
I hope Jethro's appointment doesn't interfere with what has become one of my favorite Chritmas Eve traditions, one I heartily recommend. For some years now, I have turned the radio on to the Public Broadcasting station at 10:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time on December 24th and listened to the live, worldwide broadcast by the BBC of the Christmas Eve service, A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols, from the chapel of Kings College, Cambridge University, Cambridge, England, featuring their world-famous boys choir. The program always begins with a single boy soprano singing "Once In Royal David's City" a capella to start the processional and ends ninety minutes later with a resoundingly satisfying rendition of "O Come, All Ye Faithful" with full-organ accompaniment. In between are some of the most beautiful choral music pieces and virtuoso organ playing you will ever hear, interspersed with readings of Scripture having to do with the birth of Christ. Each speaker ends his segment with the words, "Thanks be to God." It is always magnificent and it never fails to inspire. A couple of years it was also televised.
If I miss the broadcast because of Jethro's grooming appointment, I'll still be there in spirit. [Update: I missed the first half-hour, but I was rewarded for my lateness with "Ding, Dong, Merrily On High, Hosanna In Excelsis."]
Saturday, October 20, 2007
What? Saturday already?
This blog is less than a month old and already my posting has slowed considerably. Therefore, be it resolved: I shall try to blog more often. The problem is that so much occurs, even in my little world, that I don't know where to start. I become immobilized, paralysis sets in, and before you know it, several days have elapsed without my having set fingers to the keyboard. For example, I learned several things this week:
I learned that my childhood friend, Charles M., had undergone a double lung transplant in Houston, that his heart had stopped on the operating table, and that although they were able to get his heart going again, he was on life support equipment and in a medically-induced coma.
I learned that my oldest son and his wife have invited our entire family (fourteen in all, including them) to their house on the day before Thanksgiving.
I learned that my wife may need to have knee replacement surgery in the not-too-distant future if the series of Euflexxa injections she begins on Tuesday do not do the trick.
I learned that the tickets I thought I was going to have to purchase for my wife and me (at $31.00 apiece) for this year's Nutcracker Suite ballet at the Cobb Civic Center in Marietta have already been paid for by my daughter-in-law as an early Christmas present to us. Two of our grandchildren, Matthew and Ansley, will be participating in the production once again.
I learned that Mary Alice H., a former colleague at Western Electric/AT&T/Lucent Technologies who took an early retirement package in 1999, is now the pastor of a Presbyterian Church in North Carolina. Way to go, Mary Alice!
I learned that in Cumming, Georgia, one town over, a Greek Festival is being held this weekend at the Greek Orthodox Church. I didn't even know there was a Greek Orthodox Church in Cumming, Georgia. I must go check out the dolmathes, the spanakopita, the baklava, the kourabiades, the leg of lamb, the orzo (but not the ouzo), the kataifi, the....
I learned that the time has rolled around again for my dog's rabies vaccination, and also that he learned to get out of his mesh crate by completely destroying the screen with his toenails.
I learned that my daughter, a second-grade teacher in Alabama, has been asked to play her flute in a duet at her church, accompanied by live orchestra, and that we have been invited (by her, not her church) to spend the weekend.
I learned that I probably need to come out of retirement and find work to augment our income so that our debt can be eradicated. I'm considering trying to become certified as a medical transcriptionist because of my English skills and rapid typing ability.
Sadly, I learned that Charles M. died. My heart goes out to his wife, Cora Faith, and to his children, and to his sister, Louise.
Forty-some years ago there was a Broadway musical called Stop The World, I Want To Get Off. That's the way I felt this week. Maybe next week will be better.
I learned that my childhood friend, Charles M., had undergone a double lung transplant in Houston, that his heart had stopped on the operating table, and that although they were able to get his heart going again, he was on life support equipment and in a medically-induced coma.
I learned that my oldest son and his wife have invited our entire family (fourteen in all, including them) to their house on the day before Thanksgiving.
I learned that my wife may need to have knee replacement surgery in the not-too-distant future if the series of Euflexxa injections she begins on Tuesday do not do the trick.
I learned that the tickets I thought I was going to have to purchase for my wife and me (at $31.00 apiece) for this year's Nutcracker Suite ballet at the Cobb Civic Center in Marietta have already been paid for by my daughter-in-law as an early Christmas present to us. Two of our grandchildren, Matthew and Ansley, will be participating in the production once again.
I learned that Mary Alice H., a former colleague at Western Electric/AT&T/Lucent Technologies who took an early retirement package in 1999, is now the pastor of a Presbyterian Church in North Carolina. Way to go, Mary Alice!
I learned that in Cumming, Georgia, one town over, a Greek Festival is being held this weekend at the Greek Orthodox Church. I didn't even know there was a Greek Orthodox Church in Cumming, Georgia. I must go check out the dolmathes, the spanakopita, the baklava, the kourabiades, the leg of lamb, the orzo (but not the ouzo), the kataifi, the....
I learned that the time has rolled around again for my dog's rabies vaccination, and also that he learned to get out of his mesh crate by completely destroying the screen with his toenails.
I learned that my daughter, a second-grade teacher in Alabama, has been asked to play her flute in a duet at her church, accompanied by live orchestra, and that we have been invited (by her, not her church) to spend the weekend.
I learned that I probably need to come out of retirement and find work to augment our income so that our debt can be eradicated. I'm considering trying to become certified as a medical transcriptionist because of my English skills and rapid typing ability.
Sadly, I learned that Charles M. died. My heart goes out to his wife, Cora Faith, and to his children, and to his sister, Louise.
Forty-some years ago there was a Broadway musical called Stop The World, I Want To Get Off. That's the way I felt this week. Maybe next week will be better.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The week in review, sort of
I say "sort of" because it won't be the complete week, and it won't include world headlines or the latest gaffes, foibles, and outrages from the entertainment world. I'm going to let others report on Al Gore's Nobel Peace prize, Hillary Rodham Clinton's standing in the polls, Britney and K-Fed's battles over their children. The week being reviewed here will be MY week or rather OUR week, Ellie's and mine.
On Sunday, we went to church. Bob sang in the choir. Pastor is in the middle of a series called "Transformed From Within." After church, we attended the first session of a small group six-week course on prayer led by Walter and Margaret. We all ate lunch together; Judy (of Bruce and Judy) brought lasagna and someone else brought three pies for dessert. Then we watched portions of a DVD led by Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, and discussed it afterward. Then we actually prayed.
On Monday, we recuperated from Sunday.
On Tuesday, Ellie saw her orthopedic surgeon for the one-year follow-up of his operation on her left shoulder's rotary cuff. No problem there. But her knees need attending to (he said she is pretty much walking "bone on bone"), so he is going to start off with a series of Euflexxa shots. If they don't work, possible knee surgery is on the horizon. Two or three years ago, at another doctor's office, Ellie received a series of Synvisc shots in her knee. Synvisc is made from the combs of roosters, and the animal protein in the medicine caused Ellie to have rapid heartbeat. Since Euflexxa is synthetic and contains no animal proteins, we are hoping it will work.
On Wednesday, we attended the sixth session of Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, a thirteen-week course. It also contains no animal proteins, and we are hoping it too will work. So far we have learned some important lessons about budgeting, debt reduction, investing, and stopping the use of plastic.
On Thursday, we had an evening (okay, late afternoon) meal with a group of senior adults from our church who have met for several years. We usually eat at Folks (formerly Po' Folks) or Family Tradition Restaurant. Some of us are just barely seniors, and some have been seniors for quite a while. Rosemary, Laraine, and Kate are all in their eighties. Hugh and Jean, Carolyn, Esther, Sharon (and sometimes Wayne), Ellie and I are scattered across our sixties and seventies. Esther's son, Patrick, who always comes with her, was hit by a car while riding his bike when he was twelve and lay in a coma for six months. He survived, but with brain damage. Patrick, now 41, brings joy to us all. Rosemary's daughter, Lexi, is visiting from California so she came to dinner as well. Lexi is older than Patrick but younger than the rest of us. Bob and Audrey no longer are able to come, and neither are Bob and Amalfi, because both Bobs have health issues. This is not an exclusive group, just a group of old friends who like to get together.
On Saturday, there were once again two football games to attend. Noah's team lost this week, 15-0, but Elijah's team won in overtime, 9-8. I cannot discuss either game with you because the doctor doesn't like my blood pressure to rise.
So now the cycle starts over again. I'm typing this as Ellie finishes getting ready for church.
I am reminded of a very cynical poem by Dorothy Parker:
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong,
And I am Marie of Rumania.
Thank God for the decided lack of cynicism hereabouts. I think sermon series with titles like "Transformed From Within" have a lot to do with that.
On Sunday, we went to church. Bob sang in the choir. Pastor is in the middle of a series called "Transformed From Within." After church, we attended the first session of a small group six-week course on prayer led by Walter and Margaret. We all ate lunch together; Judy (of Bruce and Judy) brought lasagna and someone else brought three pies for dessert. Then we watched portions of a DVD led by Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, and discussed it afterward. Then we actually prayed.
On Monday, we recuperated from Sunday.
On Tuesday, Ellie saw her orthopedic surgeon for the one-year follow-up of his operation on her left shoulder's rotary cuff. No problem there. But her knees need attending to (he said she is pretty much walking "bone on bone"), so he is going to start off with a series of Euflexxa shots. If they don't work, possible knee surgery is on the horizon. Two or three years ago, at another doctor's office, Ellie received a series of Synvisc shots in her knee. Synvisc is made from the combs of roosters, and the animal protein in the medicine caused Ellie to have rapid heartbeat. Since Euflexxa is synthetic and contains no animal proteins, we are hoping it will work.
On Wednesday, we attended the sixth session of Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, a thirteen-week course. It also contains no animal proteins, and we are hoping it too will work. So far we have learned some important lessons about budgeting, debt reduction, investing, and stopping the use of plastic.
On Thursday, we had an evening (okay, late afternoon) meal with a group of senior adults from our church who have met for several years. We usually eat at Folks (formerly Po' Folks) or Family Tradition Restaurant. Some of us are just barely seniors, and some have been seniors for quite a while. Rosemary, Laraine, and Kate are all in their eighties. Hugh and Jean, Carolyn, Esther, Sharon (and sometimes Wayne), Ellie and I are scattered across our sixties and seventies. Esther's son, Patrick, who always comes with her, was hit by a car while riding his bike when he was twelve and lay in a coma for six months. He survived, but with brain damage. Patrick, now 41, brings joy to us all. Rosemary's daughter, Lexi, is visiting from California so she came to dinner as well. Lexi is older than Patrick but younger than the rest of us. Bob and Audrey no longer are able to come, and neither are Bob and Amalfi, because both Bobs have health issues. This is not an exclusive group, just a group of old friends who like to get together.
On Saturday, there were once again two football games to attend. Noah's team lost this week, 15-0, but Elijah's team won in overtime, 9-8. I cannot discuss either game with you because the doctor doesn't like my blood pressure to rise.
So now the cycle starts over again. I'm typing this as Ellie finishes getting ready for church.
I am reminded of a very cynical poem by Dorothy Parker:
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong,
And I am Marie of Rumania.
Thank God for the decided lack of cynicism hereabouts. I think sermon series with titles like "Transformed From Within" have a lot to do with that.
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