I'm Not Dead Yet. . .

You may have noticed that I've been pretty scarce around these bloggity precincts.  There are a variety of reasons.  I'l try to give you a decent accounting. . .

-------------------------

In June (probably not long after my last post before Halloween), I woke up and couldn't get out of bed.  Not sure exactly what happened, but my back and my legs (especially the left one) were in excruciating pain, as bad as any I've experienced in my life.  I did eventually manage to get out of bed, but it was something like a 10-15 minute ordeal.  Life persisted in that vein for a couple weeks before I finally decided that, whatever it was, it didn't seem to be transitory, so I went to see my doc.

Turns out I had a couple of herniated discs in my lower back, which were pressing on my sciatic nerve, which responded by sending intense, shooting pain signals down my leg.  I got a cane for myself, which at least allowed me to gimp around and not be bed-bound, which was handy.  I started  throwing pain-killers at it; it turns out to be more challenging than you might expect to find pain-killers that will actually deal with the pain without killing YOU in the process (especially since I told my doc I didn't want any opioids).  I eventually got on a combination that would just keep me functional if I rotated them every four hours, but that wasn't a good long-term strategy (after a while, your liver and/or kidneys start to object).

Anyway, one of the features of the pain I was experiencing was that it was very uncomfortable to sit still for very long periods of time ('very long' meaning 'more than 5-10 minutes').  And at least for me, blogging means sitting.  Besides which, when you're in more-or-less constant pain, even if it's being somewhat managed, the creative juices just don't flow as freely as when you're not.  Among other things, I couldn't put my own shoes on; if I planned on leaving the house, Jenn had to put my shoes on for me.  So, those were not the happiest of days.

I started Physical Therapy, and got referred to an orthopedist.  I was fairly certain that back surgery was in my future (honestly, at that point, my basic attitude was like Rocky in the first movie - "cut me, Mick!").  But the doc suggested an injection before we went straight to surgery, which made sense to me.  So I got the shot, and almost immediately, I felt a LOT better.  I could get out of bed almost normally, and if I had a chair that was at least a little bit padded, I could sit for a decently long period.  After a month, the doc checked me out.  I was doing so well that he asked me if I wanted another shot.  I thought about it for about three milliseconds and said, "Oh, hell yes!!"  So I got another shot.  And the next day, I set my cane aside.  And put on my own shoes.

And it has continued to get better from there.  I quit one of my pain-killers entirely (the one that was most likely to cause liver damage), and started weaning myself off the other one.  It was prescribed for three doses a day, but for a couple weeks now, I've been taking one in the morning, and that's all.  I've had a few days that make me think that I can start skipping days pretty soon.  So my health is much better, and 'normal life' is looking pretty darned normal, indeed. . .

-------------------------

We're also doing a fresh round of grandchildren, this time with married parents, which is a new thing for us.  1F and her husband welcomed a baby boy in mid-October, and he is a certified cutie.  Jenn is cutting back her work hours so she can take care of him three days a week while 1F goes back to work.  So we're entering a new phase of life, which carries the promise of being really delightful.

4M and his wife are expecting a little one in March, so there's that to look forward to, as well.  On top of that, he just took a new job, which will have them living in Michigan again by spring.  So, exciting times on that front, too.

We haven't seen or heard from 3M for a year-and-a-half, but we did hear 'through the grapevine' that he begat a little guy this past spring, who we haven't met (and likely won't for quite a while, if ever).  So, you know, we haven't totally gone out of the grandchildren-from-unmarried-parents business.  If you're keeping score at home, we now have eight grandlings (at least by DNA, counting the one due in the spring; there are other ways of counting that would say eleven or six). . .

-------------------------

Besides all that, we finally got around to getting our bathroom remodeled.  We had some, uh, water issues with the old one, and the floor was getting mushy to the point that I worried about punching a hole in it one of these days.  Besides which, it was just generally badly executed (the previous owner was, to put it gently, a cobbler).  So, our remodel was down to the studs and floor-joists (which could be a bit of a thrill if you got up to use the non-existent bathroom at, say, 3AM).

Without going into tedious detail, I'll just say that the new bathroom is spectacular - an open shower, with no tub, tile walls and floor, two sinks and Jenn's piece de resistance, a laundry chute that deposits the laundry in a basket next to the washing machine in the basement.  It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to say that our friends have been asking us if they could shower at our place. . .

We went back-and-forth on whether we wanted a master bath for our 'private' use, or whether we needed it to be more 'public' than that.  We finally hit on what I think is a really clever resolution, involving a pocket door that we can lock, so it's a 'private' bath when we want it to be, and 'public' when we want it to be.

The whole project took two months to finish, but absolutely worth the wait.  The other day, 2F was over, and when she walked into the new bathroom, she sighed, and said, "Every time I walk in here, it just makes me smile."  I know what she means. . .

-------------------------

We also paid off our mortgage.  And bought our gravestone (not, you know, that I'm more in touch with my mortality, or anything like that).  At least future generations will know that we were here, and when, and for how long.  Because, you know, genealogy. . .

-------------------------

Four years ago, Jenn and I signed up for a Biblical School that was being offered at our church.  It was a four-year program, taught by folks with seminary degrees in Scripture.  I jumped at the chance to actually be taught the Bible, instead of just gleaning what I could on my own, and I loved the  program.  But that was in the days when I was still working, and still driving an hour-and-a-half there and back.  So when the first year was completed, and it was time to sign on for the second year, we just couldn't manage it.  But ever since, we've been on the lookout for the same school being offered at another parish close enough for us to get to.

So this fall, it's being offered at another parish maybe ten miles from our home, and my calendar is a lot freer than it was last time, so we signed on for another shot.  Hopefully, this time we can finish the whole four-year program.  So far (nine weeks in), it has been wonderful, every bit as good as the first time.  And this time, we actually have the time to do justice to the workload.  So our days are filled with reading and studying Sacred Scripture with real direction, and praying and meditating on it in deeper ways than we've had the opportunity to do before.  So that's been occupying us, too.

-------------------------

So, that's what I've been up to, and why you haven't seen much of me around these parts.  I'm not sure how much I'll be posting here in weeks and months to come; possibly not much at all.  But I do still read your blogs (those of you who still blog), and even leave comments from time to time.

And may God bless you all richly. . .

Blessings On Thee, Little Man. . .

A couple days ago was Halloween, our culture's annual ghoul-fest-cum-candy-grab.  Jenn and I have typically taken a somewhat detached approach to the festivities, but we'll play along good-naturedly, and have a stash of miniature sweets on hand to pass out to the costumed youngsters who make the effort to venture down our one-block dead-end street.  When the weather is nice enough (a relative term, to be sure; Michigan in late October is rarely what you might call 'nice' in any absolute sense), we'll flip up the lower pane on the storm-door and poke our heads out to greet the youngsters who come to our door.

This year, the weather was not even 'nice', much less 'nice enough'.  Temperatures were in the low 30s, the wind was howling, and spitting rain turned to snow as the evening wore on.  So, we wimped out.  Rather than greeting the costumed kids who came to our house, we turned on the porch light and just left a big bowl of candy by the door, with an invitation to the kids to help themselves.  Incredibly lame, I know. . . Of course, that approach has certain, um, vulnerabilities attached to it, but the weather was so nasty that we wouldn't have been surprised if there had been no trick-or-treaters at all.

Alas, in a fallen world, vulnerabilities like that are almost guaranteed to be exploited, and sure enough, at one point, we heard a ruckus from the front porch, and when we glanced out the window, the candy bowl, which had been full enough just a few moments before, was empty, and a rowdy group of revelers was scurrying away from our yard.  I went out to retrieve the empty bowl, preparing to turn off the light and pull down the curtain on this year's observance of Halloween, such as it was.

As I did, a young fellow, maybe 7 or 8 years old, was coming up our steps, his dad waiting back on the sidewalk.  He and I stared at the empty bowl, and I lamented that some greedy folks had bogarted the entire supply of festive candy (God knows who you are. . . just sayin').  As I surveyed the porch, I noticed that three pieces of candy had been strewn across the porch in the frenzy, and so, with an apology, I suggested to the young man that he could take those, since it was all we had left.

He bent down and picked up the three pieces, thanking me, and then placed one piece back in the bowl, "in case somebody else might want one."

There may or may not have been a tear in my eye as I looked at the dad in silent acknowledgement of a young man of exemplary character. . .

God bless you, young man. . . I wish there were more like you. . .

-------------------------

It's five months since I last posted here (and more like six since my last 'substantial' post).  I might post something in the next little while, explaining my absence.  But, neither do I want to give anybody (possibly) false hope that 'I'm back'.  It is certainly not the case that nothing worth posting about has happened in our lives. . .