'Untitled', dated December 24th, 2021, by late Vancouver pop artist Derrick Humphries, aka 'BOY'
November 22–26虹蔵不見 Niji kakurete miezu - Rainbows hide
November 27–December 1朔風払葉 Kitakaze konoha o harau - North wind blows the leaves from the trees
December 2–6橘始黄 Tachibana hajimete kibamuTachibana - citrus tree leaves start to turn yellow
Sunday, November 13th
Today was very low key. A cool, rainy affair - in stark contrast to the warm and radiant display of autumn finery we were treated to yesterday.
Another weekend of old lady minding is behind us. She's been quiet, moody and dark the last couple of times. She did a bit of postcard painting yesterday before lunch, then packed it in. This morning, she announced that she wasn't in the mood to draw. She wasn't in the mood to eat, either.
When we were out getting stuff for lunch yesterday, Mina picked up a bunch of special 'old lady dishes' for her breakfast. She always makes a special effort to serve things that okasan likes on Sunday mornings. Grilled fish. Rice. Miso soup. Japanese pickles or assorted okazu (little side dishes that usually include seaweed, soy bean or traditional vegetables. Things like gobo (burdock root), imo (mountain potato) and konnyaku (a rubbery, grey coloured yam-based jelly done up into noodles or cakes)...stuff like that.
They usually eat together, then I come out when they're done and have a cup of tea and a CBD brownie. The old lady is getting more finicky recently, though. Disinterested. When she blew off breakfast, her excuse was that she'd eaten too much at dinner, and was still full. She'd only had soup and some light side dishes the night before, so it was hard to imagine that she wouldn't be even a little hungry twelve hours later. It's no use arguing or debating things with her. She vacillated between the side of her cot in the tatami room, where she'd alternately skulk and root around through her bag of meds, or the living room couch, where she'd sit and stare blankly at the TV screen.
At around 10:00 am, Mina and I sat and had tea with some bakery stuff we'd picked up on Saturday afternoon. Just as we were clearing up and getting ready to go out shopping, Mina spotted a bag of persimmons that okasan had brought with her from day service (by way of Mayumi's), and offered to peel them for her. I guess she felt bad that the old woman hadn't eaten.
Okasan suddenly lit up. She was all over it. Of course, she's perfectly capable of going in to the kitchen and peeling them for herself - she just can't be arsed to get up off the couch and do it. She wants everyone to run around and wait on her.
No sooner had Mina finished peeling and slicing the fruit, than the old lady suddenly started dropping hints that she 'might be in the mood for some bread'. It seems that while we were dashing around getting our morning stuff done, she'd been quietly eyeing the loaf of bread we'd picked up for our weekday breakfasts. This is a pretty typical play on okasan's part. Mina simply rolled her eyes, shook her head and told her mother that bread wasn't on today's menu.
No sooner had she put the plate of sliced and peeled persimmons on the table, than the old lady was off the couch and at her seat wolfing them down. Nope...not hungry at all. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was simply playing games to get more attention. That's her modus operandi over at Mayumi's
Part of the reason Mina started doing the separate, 'special' Japanese breakfasts for okasan was that old lady had started grousing about getting 'bread and toast' for breakfast all the time. I'd been doing the Sunday morning meal for everyone when she started coming every second weekend, and would always do up toast and tea, with fruit. We buy this lovely freshly baked bread from the bakery up the road every Saturday. It's really good - not cheap, shit stuff. It's certainly nothing to whinge over.
When she started whining and acting finicky, I told Mina to take over Sunday breakfast duty for the old lady, because I didn't want to deal with it anymore.
At first things went well, and she seemed to be happy with the dishes Mina was serving her; but over the course of the last few months she's started picking things over, and leaving certain dishes untouched. That sucks for us, as we have to either wrap it all up and ultimately eat it ourselves, or stick it back in front of her for lunch (or dinner) - which doesn't get a very enthusiastic reaction.
My Mum would do the same thing if I didn't finish what was on my plate as a kid. The shit would keep showing up in front of me until it was gone...kind of like that cursed tiki on that old episode of Gilligan's island. Last night's unfinished dinner would show up for breakfast...then lunch...then dinner again if I didn't deal with it.
Okasan kind of reminds me of one of my Mum's cats. How it would walk past the bowl of hard crunchy cat food we put out and flick its tail to tell us how bored or disinterested it was. The bowl would sit on the kitchen floor untouched for a couple of days. The cat would walk past it and mew plaintively...but refuse to eat. Exasperated, we'd finally swap it out for a can of wet food - 'Miss Meow' - the expensive stuff. The cat would eat it all.
Pretty much lick the bowl clean.
After a couple of days, it would start flicking its tail at that, too. Mum would start cursing and wringing her fists. I'd tell her to just leave the food there...and let the fucking cat go out and catch a mouse or bird if it didn't fancy the menu we were providing. I told Mina the same thing on the way home from the shops before lunch this afternoon.
She served the old lady a bowl of rice, some leftover soup, and the dishes that she'd bought her mother for breakfast.
While she sat and ate her 'late breakfast' in dutiful silence (finally finishing everything), her eyes were enviously massaging our Indian chicken karaage and fried rice bento boxes. It seemed like the old lady was waiting for Mina to flip a couple of choice pieces of deep fried chicken from her box tray over on to her rice bowl...but it didn't happen. It was pretty obvious that she quietly resented that not getting that 'service'. Mina's starting to learn.
If we continue to cave, she'll never change.
It's hard to know what to do with her. I was struck by the way she looked slumped in her wheelchair at the door, waiting for Mina to take her out to the van yesterday evening. It's not like she can't walk - she simply doesn't feel like it. She wants to be wheeled around and catered to like some kind of invalid. Another way to get more attention, I guess.
She seems to have aged ten years in the last six months.
As far as the obasan (old lady) report card goes this time around...I suppose she gets a grudging grey area 'C',. No one's sorry when it's time for her to go. She looks grey and miserable. We've both had it as well. It's a bit sad; but that's old people, I guess.
By the time this drops, we'll be exactly a month out from the mid-winter solstice. The bottom of the hill. The shorter, darker days are already getting on top me. It's a bit depressing. It's not that cold here yet.
Yesterday, it got up to a balmy 23C. Sunny and gorgeous, with all the autumn colours one could wish for laid out against the backdrop of an azure, cloudless sky. I took advantage of the weather, hopped on my bike, and went out to photo document the seasonal transition along my usual jogging route. Something new. Of course, there is no such thing as a 'gorgeous, ideal day'. After snapping a lovely shot looking southward down the canal, right next to the Shirotori Japanese Gardens, I was accosted by the very same predatory homosexual who had harassed and pursued me on the promenade a year and half before. This time he was minus the mobility of his folding bike, and I had the wheels - so the dynamic was a bit different. Unpleasant and uncalled for, nonetheless. The kid desperately needs the living shit kicked out of him.
I'll be sharing the details of that 'encounter', along with the fruits of all of that picture snapping once I weed through the photos and arrange them into something resembling a coherent mess.
Shirotori Japanese Gardens, Saturday October 29th, 2022
For once, the ne'er do well local weather forecasters seem to all agree on our declining meteorological prospects for the rest of the month. While afternoons will remain mild and tolerable, we'll definitely be having some colder mornings and evenings. Cold and dark.
Shudder.
November 30th also brings Mina's birthday, and our 16th wedding anniversary - all on the same day. This was a deliberate move on her part. She was determined that we tie the knot on her birthday. In characteristic fashion, I totally blew it by coming down with a galloping case of norovirus at around 11:30 pm, the night before we were going to go over to the ward office and submit our paperwork. I was in and out of the toilet every hour until almost noon on her birthday. Vomiting, diarrhea...the whole nine yards. Not to be deterred, Mina packed all the paperwork over there by herself, and the deed was done.
I was somewhat surprised to find that I didn't even need to be there. Not that I could have been...at least not without a puke bucket in tow. As I recall, it pretty much laid me out flat for most of the next week. I think I must have lost two or three kilograms by the time that bug had run its course. She took it all in stride, laughed, and said that my body was probably telling me not to marry her. Odd. Looking back, it's pretty clear that in my nearly 56 years of missteps and bad choices, being fortunate enough that a woman like Mina would even consider having a walking train wreck like me as her husband was an unheard of stroke of good fortune.
Needless to say, I've tested her mettle more than once over the course of the last seventeen years...and through all the drama and stupidity, she's stuck it out. She's been the impetus I've needed to move forward, and beyond some very troubling ruts I'd got myself into. While we ultimately can't change who we are...we absolutely can reference our blunders and misapprehensions, and work on doing things a bit differently moving forward. Realizing these 'adjustments' is an ongoing process. She's opened my eyes to the value of second chances. I take less for granted.
She is a remarkable woman.
Sunday, November 20th
"Congratulations, sir! You've been diagnosed with RBBB!"
That's the wonderful news that greeted us when we peeled open the special delivery freight envelope containing a paper hard copy of my 2022 'ningen dock' health check. While Mina had already accessed and previewed most of the data on my file at the hospital a week ago ('nothing to worry about - virtually the same as last year'), the results from a few of the tests - specifically those related to my annual electrocardiogram - had remained outstanding.
Bummer.
My heart issues came to light after a suspected panic attack eight months into the pandemic. I'd experienced palpitations and some mild arrhythmia on the final day of my brother-in-law's funeral. In layman's terms - shallow breathing and an accelerated heart beat. I'd assumed that these were simply a bi-product my inability to properly process and manage stress. It seems that my assessment was maybe half-right. Mina started checking my pulse, and noticed that my heart rate appeared to be slightly irregular. She recommended that we get to the bottom of the situation as soon as possible, and promptly booked an appointment for me over at the cardiology section at her workplace. The doctor had me wear a portable monitor for 24 hours, and the collected data was analyzed. The irregularity was confirmed; but the cardiologist determined that it wasn't far enough out of what could be considered a 'normal range of variation' to warrant too much immediate concern. I could go about my business as usual, without needing any special medication or treatment.
For now.
When Mina pointed out the results in my file printout, my stomach sank. What on earth did all of this mean?
"Right bundle branch block (RBBB) is a condition in which there's a delay or blockage along the pathway that electrical impulses travel to make the heart beat. It sometimes makes it harder for the heart to pump blood to the rest of the body.
The delay or blockage can occur on the pathway that sends electrical impulses either to the left or the right side of the bottom chambers (ventricles) of the heart.
Bundle branch block might not need treatment. When it does, treatment involves managing the underlying health condition, such as heart disease, that caused bundle branch block.
In most people, bundle branch block doesn't cause symptoms. Some people with the condition don't know they have bundle branch block.
Rarely, symptoms of bundle branch block may include fainting (syncope) or feeling as if you're going to faint (presyncope)". (courtesy of the Mayo clinic website)
While Mina didn't think there was any cause for alarm...she said that she wanted to go over to cardiology and consult with the department head, just to see what he had to say on the matter. He essentially echoed her assessment.
She said that he didn't seem particularly alarmed or surprised by my ECG results.
He told Mina that while I could come in and go through a battery of further tests, the final outcome would almost certainly be that he'd simply recommend a follow up examination in a year's time.
As the ECG is part of my over-all full physical, all I need to do is be sure not to skip next year's examination. With daily COVID and influenza numbers currently shooting up exponentially, busy hospital waiting areas are not among the best places for middle-aged folks with underlying conditions to be hanging about.
So...how did I get here? I mean, I quit smoking seven or eight years ago. I watch what I eat (for the most part). Cut way back on the drinking. It's early to bed, early to rise. All that fucking bullshit. I run 40km a week.
Therein just may be the rub.
According to some medical journal data I came across, RBBB isn't entirely uncommon among long distance runners.
"35% to 50% of athletes have an incomplete right bundle branch block; endurance athletes are the most likely to exhibit this finding..." (PubMed Central - 'Competitive Sports and the Heart: Benefit or Risk?')
"Complete and incomplete RBBB occurs more commonly in endurance sports athletes without underlying structural heart disease. The reason is exercise-induced right ventricular remodeling causing increased cavity size and resultant increased conduction time" (JACC Case Reports - An Open Access Journal)
A couple of years ago, my bloodwork revealed that I had a mild case of anemia, which can also be traced back to high impact physical activities... like running. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there seems to be something a pattern emerging here.
Am I doing myself more harm than good out there...or is this stuff more relative to the fact that I'm simply getting old? I treated my body pretty fucking badly for a good portion of my misspent youth. I smoked, I drank, and I danced the hoochie-cooch. Often.
Over the course of almost a quarter century, I pretty much realized every tired old cliché of rock and roll excess that I could...and then some.
Too late for regrets, I guess.
For now, I guess it's just a matter of 'wait and see'. Be glad for every day that passes without some kind of awful news or tragic event smearing poop all over my rosey future outlook.
After last night's heavy rain, the sun edged its way out at around 9 am. It was another beautiful, oddly warm day. It actually got up to 22C at around 1pm. Sadly, it's too nice to last much beyond the end of this month. Fingers crossed it hold out until at least December, anyways.
I have a busy week ahead. My fifth COVID jab is scheduled for late Friday afternoon...then we're in for another fun-filled weekend of old lady minding. If the last four jabs are anything to go on, I expect I'll feel like a massive piece of shit until Monday or Tuesday.
Joy to the fucking world.
That's where we'll leave off for now. The next installment will hopefully include at least some of the photos taken by Mina and I over the course of the last month. Some unseasonably nice weather, and an extended break from work for Mina translated into a few snap-worthy forays out into the local environs. Then there's the series of pictures I took up the canal-side last week. Those need to be sorted and captioned.
Until then, you'd do well to remember that...
"No matter where you go, there you are".
There, and nowhere else.
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