A Drippy Day
There are puddles everywhere.
I had an appointment this morning with my doctor. With the strong south wind, I felt lucky to get into the clinic. In September I had several batteries of tests and x-rays for my “farmer type” back. I printed out the results and one by one I went online to see what the huge terms meant.
This morning, I wanted to find out what could be done going forward. If I would have surgery to repair my lower back, there would be five vertebra that would need to be rebuilt. It would most likely take a full year of rehabilitation to get back to relative normality. For now, I am going to try meds. If an opioid can give marginal relief, so be it. If, after a time, perhaps a cortisone shot may be of a help. Yes . . . the shot has to be spot on to help. For now I am willing to try this meds recourse.
Yesterday I had a text conversation to brighten my world. I have known Sharon Skolberg since we were each in country school. Sharon and Ted farmed north up the road from Orlin and me in Boon Lake Township. Ted and Orlin have since passed, but the special friendship between Sharon and I remains. Sharon had shared with me that phone conversations are difficult for her as she is on oxygen therapy. Texting works out just fine via Facebook’s messaging. Sunshine can come into my world when least expected and so appreciated.
Dennis was off to the grain elevator. He is stockpiling shell corn for his deer. It seems as a mama deer and two small ones come early for a snack. Dennis did say that larger, older deer can put up quite a fight for food. The older and larger are more apt to fend for themselves.
Tonight is a soup and sandwich night.
No sunshine but seeing puddles where not too long ago there was ice . . . is a good thing.