Thursday, March 14, 2013


My little procedure Tuesday went fine. And barring any problems from the test samples, I won't have to do an encore for another three years…almost enough time to halfway forget how exceedingly vile the gallon of prep-solution was to gag down.

On the other hand the propofol was dandy! Like switching off a light…one moment you're completely alert, the next you're waking, just as alert, and the procedure is done. They then wheel you back to your curtained cubicle, give you juice to sip, and ten minutes after that you're good to go—being pushed down the hall and out to the car. Not a moment's fuzziness, no odd sensations, tastes, smells, or after-effects that I noticed. Great stuff, propofol! I can see why Michael Jackson loved it.  

Back home—three minutes from the hospital, which is directly across, fifteen-hundred yards, but out of sight beyond the hill  from the cottage—I devoted the rest of the morning to snoozing, being woefully short (even for me!) on sleep. After a two-hour nap, I spent the afternoon reading and eating—first lunch, and a few hours later, supper. In-between I munched. 

About midnight, just before heading to bed, I accompanied Moon-the-Dog outside for her evening constitutional. The night was cold and dark. A fine mist peppered down from the overcast sky—wet, icy, but whether sleet or rain I couldn't tell. The river was up, running fast and silent.

I relished it all…the cold, the darkness, the icy mist on my face and the spate river at my feet. I am truly blessed, and so very grateful.     


The Weaver of Grass said...

Blips like this in our health Grizz serve to make us feel truly blessed I feel. I am having such a blip at present and about to see the Cardiologist - so have sympathy.
I love the way you say the river runs silent when it is full - it does indeed - when it is almost empty it gurgles over the pebbles and when it is fully in spate it roars, but in between in just flows silent and fast.

Gail said...

HI GRIZZ - so so glad all went well with your procedure. Phew, Amen.
Love your restful day of snoozing and munching.

I so loved your midnight wander, with icy mist upon your face in darkness and the hush of the river fast at your feet. Glorious beyond expression.
Love Gail

Grizz………… said...


Indeed it is so. No gift in life is more precious than good health. Any blip quickly puts that in proper perspective.

That was one of the things that really surprised me when I moved here…the fact the river became quieter the higher the water arose. I wasn't expecting that. At normal flow—thanks to the big riffle directly in front of the cottage—the river's voice is loud, churning, rumbling, an only partially muted roar. But as the water comes up, the sound goes down. The really scary time here is when you wake up and hear absolutely no water sound beyond a sibilant gurgle, almost a hiss, which means the river is at the top of its banks and only inches in protective leeway height remain.

You will be in my thoughts and prayers. Think positive; spring is almost here.

Grizz………… said...


Thank you. I'm really glad to have the deal over and done with…plus I had an eye examine to check ocular pressures this morning, as the doc keeps a close eye on me since Mom had glaucoma and I've had rather high pressures in past examines. This time, though, it was fine—great, in fact. So another six months for that, too. I'm doubly blessed and pleased!