Let's see, where were we? Ah yes, Roger was scheduled for an MRI and the weather had taken an incredible turn toward deep winter. Wednesday was the stormiest for rain, and by then we were topping out at eight inches for a four-day total. The wind was gusting up to 60 mph, and the temperatures hovered at 36 F most of the day. We kept waiting for the snow to start falling. We thought if it would just snow we could cancel the MRI appointment (our not-so-secret desire). But that didn't happen. What did happen is that we lost our internet, telephone, and cable connection at around 10:00 am. So even if the MRI had to be canceled, we couldn't call to do it. We drove over to the food co-op for their free wi-fi i and good cell phone reception. There was no cancellation, so we drove over to the Diagnostic Lab at Roger's appointed time.
ROGER SEZ: i learned how to relax and ignore the pain of dental work when i was young because i hated fainting, or almost fainting, from the consideration of needles. not the pain. just the thought. i have had root canals without novacain. i could faint now if i imagine having a needle in me. i was quite pleased some 4 years ago when i got through a blood draw with nary a trace of lightheadedness. i even watched the tech switch vials to get more. i was impressed with me.
now i was to get an mri of my shoulder. i ruptured my left proximal biceps tendon, which sounds awful but is not really because the upper biceps tendons have two attachment points and so i still have one left. my arm still works fairly well. no reaching up and back. the diagnosing surgeon suggested an mri to see if my rotator cuff was torn.
the intake nurse tells me that i will need an injection in my shoulder for an mri. actually two, a shot of lidocaine to numb my shoulder so a doctor can, while watching on live fluoroscope, insert a loooong needle into my joint to insert dye. maybe she didn't really draw out that word "long," but i heard it that way.
so i remove my shirts and put on the silliest medical gown i've ever seen. big goofy flaps on the shoulders. then they lead me down the hall to radiology and i sit there ignoring the tray laid out with needles and vials or inspecting the several sorts of hi-tech machinery while the radiologist is called from somewhere else. my breathing is a bit off by now. after some years the doc arrives and explains the whole thing again. maybe i shouldn't have watched the fluoroscope screen while he marked my shoulder where the looong needle would be inserted. the lidocaine injection was sharp but brief. now i'm staring intently at some machine screws just above me, trying to breathe normally. now i'm asking for a cold wet cloth on my head. now i'm sweating profusely. when they ask if i'd like to stop and do the MRI some other time i gladly say yes. my bp is the lowest i've seen, 110/54. the nurse insists that i lay flat for a bit. that sounds good. after a while i'm escorted out to robin. we laugh.
ROGER FINIS
When he came into the waiting he still looked ghostly pale. I thought he had completed the tests quickly, so I leapt up saying, "Wow, great job. That was fast." He said, "Nope, didn't get it done. I passed out."
We had another very deep rollicking good laugh about it on the drive home, that is until we turned up the two-lane mountain road to the house. While we were in town, it had snowed about an inch or two at the slightly higher elevation, and the roads were almost too slick to be navigated. There was a snow plow a couple of cars ahead of us, but it wasn't clearing the roads of all the slickness. Several cars were spinning and struggling up the hill, and we became just one in a line of roaring engines and cars moving an inch at a time. Then we were stuck. Roger tried to put the snow chains on the car, but he couldn't get them to work right. A very nice young man stopped to help, but he couldn't get the chains on either. Luckily he did manage to direct traffic around us, as we were blocking the lane heading up the hill. It was disconcerting in so many ways. So, Roger jumped back into the car and decided to give it one more try. We inched and inched our way to the house, which was only about a quarter of a mile further. We made it. Whew.
Since Wednesday, we've gotten nearly ten inches of snow and lost power once more. It's been snowing lightly and steadily nearly everyday. Everyone we meet and tell that we're looking to buy a house at the 3000+ elevation, always responds, "You're going to get a lot of snow up there." We didn't exactly believe them until now. Yup, totally true. The snow is here, and from the looks of it, it's here to stay. So, now we get to see two of our favorite things together, mushrooms and snow, how lucky is that? And finally, Roger decided since he wouldn't have surgery no matter what the tests revealed, he wouldn't reschedule the MRI anyway. All is well in our very snowy white world.
...overwhelms everything. Demands your attention and won't leave you alone. It's an entity that must be dealt with. We think about it, plan for it, have the snow plowed or shovel it ourselves. We must shop for food with the weather in mind; we carry a shovel in the car when we head out; we pack extra boots and heavy jackets, just in case. We keep a pot of water on the stove in case we need to boil it for hot water in the morning. The extension cords stay in place now for quick attachment to the generator. Yes, we've had another storm, and another extended power outage.
The weather. It has whupped our butts this year, and not only ours but our entire county's; the PG&E crews constantly trying to restore power, and the telephone companies keeping connections humming. Tree crews, road crews, and law enforcement are all working non-stop. There's hardly been a day since mid February that we haven't seen some work truck on the side of the road with a cherry-picker bucket high up in the trees or the top of a pole, and some person doing his/her damnedest to solve a problem.
The weather. And there's more on the way. Out of the Gulf of Alaska (thanks, Dave!). One storm ends, another begins, with hardly a breather in between. It's the trees that seem to take the brunt of it. Limbs strewn everywhere, tops blown off like they were nothing but insignificant toothpicks, and whole trees spread across roadways as if they had always planned to fall just this way.
So sometimes, we take a break and head out to watch the Wood Ducks in the snowy pond. It almost balances the madness, but not quite.
