A dark gray line, one inch

Very strong in my mind's eye. A dark, grey line, one inch long.

Today in the MRI, I wanted to transport myself from the moment, the clanging and buzzing that actually soothes me because I know that answers might be found.

So, I went to that familiar place...

...settling the saddle pad onto Shadow's back in just the right place, a little forward and then sliding it backward a bit so the hair will lie all one direction, flat.

....swinging the saddle just right so stirrups and cinches will float over his back and settle lightly onto the pad and yet not bang the stirrup and cinches into his "off" elbow.

.... going to the off side, letting down the cinches, hanging the breast collar over the horn neatly so I can grab it from the other side.

....I rode that saddle for 21 years. Twelve of them on Shadow. And I haven't ridden in a year and a half. My sister, 3000 miles away, owns that saddle now.

...back to the near side, I reach under and grab the cinch, then loop the latigo through it, hands moving by habit, learned, memory, muscle movement that will not become unlearned, will not be forgotten.

....buckle up the back cinch...just so.

....then reach under his neck for the breast collar, which I have freed from the saddle horn with my right hand, and take the leather strap and feed it through the ring and back to the buckle.

There it is, the dark, gray line. Across the leather strap, it reflects right where the buckle has rubbed it for over 12 years on this sturdy little horse. It guides me to know the right fit, the correct hole in which to place the tongue of the buckle. It is always the right fit if I use that line as my guide.

Of all the things that could stick in my mind while lying flat in a clanging MRI in a hospital in Oregon, my wedding ring vibrating from the magnetic pounding and the back of my head hurting on the flat table; my legs full of neuro-pain from this supine position, my eyes closed for the 30 minute test, earplugs firmly stuffed into both ears, right arm wrapped in "vet wrap" to hold the cotton ball over the injection site

...of all things, I focus on that one-inch, metallic gray crease on the breast collar strap of my old Salisbury saddle, now in a tack room at a stable in New Hampshire.

MRI today

Today, I had the MRI for my jaw, both without and with contrast. Next week, I'll find out if I can proceed with the bone strengthening treatment (if the MRI results are good) or not (they would be bad results).

The radiologist was great. When he had to give me the shot for the contrast, he wondered out loud where my veins were. I told him that lately, everyone has been having a hard time finding my veins. He just waited, didn't poke me except the one time when he got the vein and gave me the shot. A good tech!

Today I bought some clothes for my two trips to California next month. Badly needed. I've been dressing myself from Goodwill and Senior Citizen's thrift shops for too long.

Xrays and the results

Yesterday, we drove to our "shopping town" to keep my appointment at the cancer center in order to have the IV drip of pamidronate, a medication to help beef up my bones for the upcoming fusion surgery.

Alas, I ended up not getting the IV treatment at all. I spoke with Dr. Fu, telling him I have a lot of intense jaw pain every day, and since bisphosphonates can cause jaw necrosis, he had me go to the hospital for a bunch of xrays.

The nice girls doing the xrays were so gentle, but the way they had to manipulate my head to get the shots, it took the legs out from under me. I was supposed to go back and get the 3.5 hour IV drip if the xrays looked good, but I went back and said I'd have to reschedule, I had been there over 2 hours already and couldn't look at another 4.

Dr. Fu called when I got home and said the xrays didn't show anything but that was nothing because xrays are such a low-tech diagnostic tool. So, he is setting up an MRI of my jaw.

It's a deep, burning ache, lower right jaw. Doc said he wouldn't do a pamidronate infusion at all until I had the MRI and everything was clear to go. No DEXA (bone density test) until the end of the year, so I definitely won't be having the fusion until early next year, at the earliest, if all proceeds well. MRI is scheduled next week if it is authorized by work comp.

AND, praises to God, the MGUS (monoclonal gammopathy, pre multiple myeloma condition) tests all came back normal and fine. So no worries about that.

Today, I am in a lot of pain due to the positioning of my head during the imaging. Very weak and feeling very "neuro." I just can't be moving my head in different directions, no matter how little the movement seems to be. They also pulled downward on my arms to lower my shoulders out of the pictures of my jaw, but now I realise what I already knew but forgot: the arms are attached to the upper Cspine! They should have known how that might affect me, I told them all about my injuries.

I had hopes of cancelling my trip next month to see "Agreed Upon Medical Examiners" for work comp purposes. I am just not feeling up to it at all. But now, I am learning it is very important for me to go, so I will just cowboy up and do it. Then we'll be back for a week before flying back down to California to our son's wedding.

Green Acres

Today, I made a strawberry/rhubarb pie. With a frozen, store bought pie shell and strawberries from my freezer that grew here on the place, and fresh rhubarb growing in the back kitchen-garden. It turned out ... well...very good!

I love having food that comes from our land. There are many perennial food crops here on the place that were planted before we moved here.

Two kinds of blackberries
Raspberries
Strawberries
Grapes (only 4 plants that are struggling but I see two clumps growing if I can keep the deer away)
Oregano
Thyme
Garlic Chives
Garlic
Rhubarb

And then there's what I have planted:
Lettuce
Tomatoes
Green chiles
Green beans
Peas
Asparagus that will be good for next year
Seedless watermelon from the seeds of the fruit we bought to eat last year
Spinach, tons of spinach
One carrot

Yesterday, we put a short wire fence around one of the garden plots. It's a great place, built up from a hillside, with 3 tiered beds. The fence is not high enough to keep deer out, but the purpose is to keep Mickey the dog out. He likes to dig there.

Within that now-fenced area, we also have six small pine trees and some forsythias that I started from cuttings this spring. Nearby is the large wooden "box" that is our compost bin. It was made by the previous owners and we have harvested two big loads of compost from it. It's a great place to put weeds and clippings, kitchen waste, dirt and leaves.

I water it every so often. It is built with chicken wire over open areas on the bottom to allow air to circulate through it. It won't be useful until next Spring...but that is the fun part of it. Next year, the lovely, rich loamy stuff will be like a big present waiting for me to deliver its goodness to various, well-deserving plants.

When we moved here, there were many scraggly, small pines planted down in the lowest level, near the road. A great place for a stand of trees which will some day provide a lot of privacy. The trees had been ravaged by deer.

I have nurtured these trees with Miracle Gro fertilizer, most of this year's compost, mulching and watering and they are growing phenomenonally. I love them. They are one of my pet projects. I will love it when they are tall enough to screen us from the road.

To keep the deer damage to a minimum, I spray the trees and other plantings susceptable to deer browsing with a product called "Not Tonight, Deer." Great name, huh? It is "emulsified egg solids" which means it is basically rotten eggs.

I buy it online for $12 and one packet lasts me all season. I mix it up in a bucket of water and let that steep for a few days. Then I pour it into a pump sprayer through cheesecloth. I walk around and spray all my tender plantings. It doesn't take long and is enjoyable. Tonight, the batch had "steeped" so long that it smelled like pig manure.

I believe you can teach deer that the plants in your yard do not taste good and this can be passed along to future generations. I have used these rotten egg products for years and in many states, especially at our last job in CA. If you keep after it, it truly does work.

Roses? Oh, how deer love rose blooms. But if I keep after the bushes with the spray, the deer will leave them alone.

I remember when we first moved here and I thought being a gray-haired lady who just gardened was a big downward career move! But now, I am a happy, happy gardener. I can't keep up with the weeds so I don't worry about it. When they get big and tall, they are easier for me to pull anyway. If I ever do pull them!

This evening while puttering around outside, like I always do if I feel up to it, I realised that this gardening thing is similar in many ways to what I'd done all of my life. Working outside...alone...no talking...not even thinking about things, just the task at hand. Working with horses is just like this and it is very therapeutic, very good for the brain.

I couldn't do that...

When we go back to California, it has been suggested that we go back out to the ranch, see how things look, see our old bosses, and I could see Shadow.

I've thought about that some.

I do not want to go see Shadow.

Twelve years spent with a horse and sharing trails together seems like it should constitute a reunion when it is convenient.

I tell people, "No, I won't go back, even if I'm ten miles close to it. Anyway, Shadow won't remember me, he won't care."

But you know, the truth is, I believe he would remember me.

I believe that he'd be out in his pasture and I'd whistle and he'd come running up to the top of the hill, and then plunge down the hill and run into the stall to see me.

I believe he'd let me rub his forehead and I know he'd remember me. After all, twelve years is a long time.

But would that be right? To me, it feels like a wayward mother who has abandoned her child, showing up for a few minutes after a couple of years, "Hi, how are ya? See ya later!" and then disappearing again.

And I couldn't do that. To him, or to me.

Here's a photo of me and Shadow, in better, younger times. I've shared them here before...

I'm done...Tut fini

Last Wednesday, I had a PT appointment in town, a mile away. We planned that after my PT, which is always lowkey and nominal in nature, we'd drive on to our shopping town, across the river into Oregon, 35 miles away. We'd make a fun day of it.

But I knew starting the night before that I was not feeling right. The previous evening, I sat in the recliner aspirating my saliva...having slight problems with swallowing....some heart stuff...I knew it was due to the fact that I'd pulled some weeds for about ten minutes that day.

In the morning, I showered and tried to get over feeling poorly. I usually can "buck up" a lot.
But once I strapped on the CTO vest and got into the pickup and felt the sway of the truck, I knew that all of my plans were for naught.

I told my husband that I probably would need to go home. He was, at first, disappointed. I weakly walked down the hospital corridor to the PT room, and standing just inside the door, I announced to one and all that I was done with PT! I had two more visits authorized by work comp, but I just can't do it anymore. It always causes my symptoms to flare up and I end up recovering for a week til the next appointment. That's it, I'm done.

Then, with weak and shaky legs, still strapped in my brace, I walked back down the hall, carefully holding onto the handrail as I descended the 3 steps to the sidewalk and told my husband, waiting for me in the Toyota, that I needed to go straight home.

By then, he'd wrapped his mind around the idea and dropped me off at home and continued on back to do the errands we had planned. I got into the house and dropped into a recliner and stayed there til he got home.

A hot day in Washington

Here is a view of Mt. Adams taken 10 miles from our home. Mt. Adams is the largest mountain in terms of land mass in the lower 48. It stands 12,276 ft. It dominates the views from our valley, as does Mt. Hood, a bit shorter in stature and a bit further away, in Oregon.