A fist full of pills

Holly Doyne Posted on by 7

and more than once a day.

I will admit that I was thrilled to learn yesterday that it is time to back down on one of George’s meds. This decrease, then stopping the med will result in NINE (yes, nine) fewer capsules a day. Not an insignificant drop. At the same time, other than the absence of the bright, cheerful orange and blue, he will still be left with a lot of pills.

the most are in the morning

It falls to me, first thing in the morning, to set up the pill dispenser. After that, it is up to George to take his meds. Alarms from one’s phone can serve as great reminders. He has a bit more energy everyday. I have been having growing exhaustion. Today’s plan is for me to get some sleep!

Halloween

Holly Doyne Posted on by 5

Which wasn’t the first thing on my mind as we headed across the Bay Bridge to UCSF. After only one extra trip in, George is back on the Mon/Thurs twice a week visit schedule. Normally I really prefer morning appointments – driving over in the car pool lane and coming back before rush hour is ideal. We were not that lucky this week – the earliest available appointment was 1100 with the follow-on at 1430. As you can imagine, by the time we finished it was 1700 which means we didn’t get home till close to 1900 (ok, discount 20 minutes for a grocery store stop, but still).

In recent years, most clinical and retail locations have put strict guidelines on costumes in the work place. Admittedly, if common sense doesn’t prevail, you really don’t want anything that is going to scatter pieces, expose an excessive amount of skin or scare really young children.

The oncology/heme-transplant clinic at UCSF only deals with adults, and children (short, disease carriers) are specifically prohibited. Those facts didn’t change the costume guidelines, but the staff still managed to have a lot of fun.

I didn’t manage to get a picture of the skeleton, the jailbird with a chainsaw, or Trump in the orange jumpsuit with ball and chain. Waldo missed the photo opportunity –

but was spotted later

where in the world

Same thought, different expression

Holly Doyne Posted on by 2

there are times when you just can’t use Google translate, or any other translate program, for that matter. One of those instances occurs when using common phrases which really are different according to culture.

The following example is the one I have mostly commonly used. In English – Scaredy Cat. In German? Angst Hasse. An afraid cat – vs. an anxious rabbit. The underlying concept is the same, but the cultural expression is by far different.

I just acquired a new parallel –

I’ll kept my fingers crossed =  Ich drück die Daumen dass es weiter aufwärts geht !

 
Obviously, I mostly have the German/English variations. Most the Yiddish I know doesn’t lend itself to this kind of comparison. The French I learned in high school/college wasn’t of the level or of enough interest to spark any comparisons.

So, if you have them – other language contributions welcome.

Emptying the fridge

Holly Doyne Posted on by 2

As you might expect, with the power out for almost 48 hours that I really didn’t have much in way of refrigerated/frozen food which survived. In many ways, I was luckier than most. Since effectively neither George nor I were in the house for the last five weeks, I had almost nothing on hand. I bought a few things after we arrived home on Thursday and planned on catching up over the weekend. As the weather changed, the winds came up, and the threat of power loss increased, I decided to go day by day.

Then on Friday, it looked clearly like we would be in with the rest of those lucky individuals whose power was going to be cut for the weekend. The fact that it didn’t happen until late Sat evening just put of the inevitability. I had the container in which George’s meds had been delivered along with all the freezer packs. After moving over enough meds to take us through to Monday morning, neither the fridge or freezer were accessed again till Monday morning. 

And, since Monday was a clinic day, I felt perfectly justifiable in putting off the task for another day. So there I was, neither cheerful nor energetic, but dutifully clearing out the fridge. Cheese went. Not temperature stable for 48 hours? Out – cheese, hummus, yogurt, cream cheese. You can see the trend? Oh, yes, and the container of Half-and-half. 
From the freezer, obviously the popsicles which had thawed, leaked and refrozen landed in the sink. Unfortunately, so did two containers of very good ice cream and some single servings of quiche and crumble that Shana had made. Same disposition for the single servings of home made noodle soup (again from Shana) and a few other still in the original packing treasures. 

Then I made the run down to the garbage cans – no way did I want all that melting and smelling up the kitchen – even if our bio container would have been large enough to hold everything. 

It was just one of those days which we all have, necessary tasks which feel so much better once they are completed.

Magic Flamingos

Holly Doyne Posted on by 12

 

I know that I have shown you my solar powered lawn flamingos. They certainly helped last evening when we had to climb the flight of stairs to our house. Most of us who live in cities are so used to the light pollution that we don’t even notice it. Until the power is out and block after block of houses are dark. As we drove from Shana’s home in Richmond back to Berkeley, there were lights, traffic signals and a significant amount of traffic. Starting from San Pablo onto Marin, at the traffic circle we head up Los Angeles which comes to end at Spruce. The west side, the downhill side, is brightly lit. The east side is totally dark. Right onto Spruce, left on Eunice up the hill to Euclid. Dark, all dark.

Inside the house, it was really dark. Borrowing a couple of matches from Dani (she and Alex had tea lights every votive they owned arrayed on their kitchen counter) I found a couple of large scented candle jars. This is fire season – I only wanted flames safely inside glass containers. I could have done without the scents – but hey, you use what you have,

Then I remembered the birthday present Shana gave me (correction – she says Carmen is to blame! Carmen emailed, she swears that flamingo is Canadian. But then it would be like the Canada geese, no passport. Canada Flamingo? The final estimate is that I can jointly blame Carmen and Stu).

A plastic flamingo

No biggie, right?

But it turns out he does this!

LED Flamingo

which is very bright in a dark room

Bright enough to use as an alternate to a phone for a flashlight. Just about bright enough for me to start and monitor George’s IV antibiotics (which will finally finish on Wednesday).

And bright enough to use as a nightlight as I staggered around the place this morning, getting ready for the drive into San Francisco. The traffic was horrible. Ok, probably not as bad as DC, NY or LA, but I am not driving there now am I?

As it turned out, the trip was well worth it – platelet transfusion as expected. But no blood required so we were back out of the city before noon. Even better, he doesn’t have to return till Thursday (rather than Wed & Fri) so I am more than pleased. There is actually a chance I might actually get a chance to sleep in one morning.

It was about 1430, Dani and I were upstairs looking for potential costume materials for her when my stereo started blasting. We looked at each other. She flipped the light switch – there was LIGHT!

The power was back on. I am not going to count on it lasting. The winds are due to pick up again tomorrow. But I am taking advantage of it for the moment. Shana is spared having to feed us supper again. There is hot water! The kettle works! I can actually see to hook up IVs. For that matter, I can even charge my phone.

Power out is not powerless

Holly Doyne Posted on by 12

Trust me on that. But just after I emailed last night – first one set of lights blinked out. Less than a minute later, all the other circuits went dead. And it was quiet, a very quiet 2230. Good writeup in the Berkeleyside which is an on-line only Berkeley newspaper.

At least it was quiet in my the house. Most of the time, none of us notice all the background noise produced by various machines, electronics, and appliances. I wasn’t able to say the same for the renters up the hill from us. Quiet? No – they had been partying hard since 2000, complete with barbecue from the smells of things. Suddenly they were literally (as apposed to aware of their affect on others) in the dark. More noise, complete with laughs, shrieks and giggles.

Rather than starting WWIII in the neighborhood, I just shut my window. Plus, I finally realized that it was Saturday night. If you are young, I guess Saturday night is for partying.

Which takes us to this morning when I started smelling smoke in the house – nothing burning near us – just the wind had changed. It was now blowing from Sonoma to us. We still have no power and I am expecting the situation to remain unchanged through tomorrow. The dividing line turns out to be Spruce Street runs parallel to Euclid only  four blocks further down the hill. Peet’s was packed this morning with hordes coming down for coffee, wifi and a chance to charge their phones.

I am sure that there are still those who don’t believe PG&E should have shut off power. But then, perhaps they are not paying attention to the brush fires this afternoon along HWY 24 near Walnut Creek. Or the continuing spread of fire in Sonoma. Or all the trees down along the route we took from Berkeley to Richmond (California) due to the high winds.

Practically speaking, all of us are going to have to make changes. It isn’t just the US. Or some areas of Canada. There were massive wild fires last year in Sweden destroying millions of acres. There have been fires across huge swaths of Russia. My intrepid friends in Australia note that fire season now starts two months earlier. There are fires burning in New South Wales and Queensland.

We can also hold our politicians accountable. Yes, I moved back to a country with a leader who epitomizes the “everyone for themselves,” attitude. Who has cut safety funding, who has cut both education and senior citizen services and benefits. And doesn’t believe that it is anyone’s responsibility to leave the world in a decent shape.

Me? I am reading regulations, I will vote, I will play my part. But I believe in leaving the world a better place than what I found it. I won’t pat myself on the back for reducing my carbon footprint this past year – my decreased travel was not voluntary. But it has made me stop and think about waste, cost, and where I spend my precious dollars as well as who I want representing me.

PG&E

Holly Doyne Posted on by 21

Depending on where you live, you may/may not have followed the massive Northern California wild fires last year. Paradise (the town) was destroyed completely. Other communities and scattered homes were also affected, either directly by the fires, by blowing debris, by the efforts to control the fires, etc, etc. At minimum 86 people died. It might well be more as this has long been an “off-the-grid” area where weed has traditionally been one of the largest cash crops. At best guess, one of PG&Es transformers blew, starting the fire which spread extremely rapidly due to high winds and drought conditions.

There has been a lot of finger pointing for the last year. A lot of he said/she said. A lot of “no one is personally responsible.” What I do know is that PG&E, like some of the other massive industries (see Boeing) underwent a culture shift in the last 10-20 years to an emphasis on making money and paying dividends to stockholders

Honestly? Maintenance and upgrades of an aging electrical system aren’t cheap. Money spent on maintenance isn’t available to pay high salaries to certain executives and stockholders. At the same time, no one seems to want to pay the real costs of the energy they use. So – no win all around and more finger pointing.

None of this is helped by the fact that this fall, we once again have extremely dry conditions, high winds, higher than normal conditions, coupled with areas of brush not cleared and trees interfering with power lines. Yes, PG&E is making progress on clearing trees and branches away from power lines and transformers, but it isn’t realistic to expect that years of neglect are going to be remedied in a few short months.

Parts of the area have already gone through one power outage. To say that the communications were terrible is an understatement. As it turned out, most of the areas that “might have to be turned off” were not. And, of course, there are all those whose very lives are dependent on electricity who suddenly realized they were going to have a problem. Now, I can understand the issue if you are living in one of the accessible buildings – it is part of the cities responsibility to make sure that your respirator will have power. That you have a location where you can recharge your electric wheelchair. But for everyone else. Hello? What part of living on a portion of the Hayward Fault don’t you get? An earthquake could easily knock out your power. What were you planning on doing?

The city of Berkeley has been desperately trying to identify those at highest risk and assist in plans. For a city of independent people, leftover hippies and the like, there seems to be a huge element of “you need to take care of me.”

With PG&E (Pacific Gas & Electric) literally supplying millions of customers, I would have expected some confusion. After all, I guess it is too much for some people to understand that if some portions have to be taken off the grid – everyone downstream is going to be without power. Because of the cost (see above) most areas are supplied by a single source. You turn off that grid area because it is in a high fire risk zone and ……. you get the idea

Which leads us to today. It is unseasonably hot. It is windy. The hills in which I live are fairly high fire risk. Not only is it dry, but over the decades, people have planted eucalyptus, a lot of eucalyptus trees. Originally, our power was scheduled to go off at 1700. Now potentially it is 2000. We have made plans: Richmond is not affected which means that I can drop off everything that needs to stay cool or frozen with Shana. I have a couple of coolers. Because of George’s med supplies, we have lots and lots of cold packs, all of which are frozen.  We will leave only if there is an actual fire. Everything is charged, and frankly – I can get internet on my phone if I am desperate.

Do you really need that?

Holly Doyne Posted on by 18

I really appreciate my new MacBook Pro. Except for two things. The latest software update has eliminated all support for 32-bit software. Now for most people, the response is Huh? What is a bit, as apposed to a byte, as apposed to wallaby? But for me, it turns out that the only difference it makes is significant and probably for the better. Big Fish Games (yes, those folks) don’t have 64-bit Mac games. All the games I have wasted time with over the years are 32-bit. I have emailed them, they say they are “working” on getting the games updated.

I don’t believe it for an instant. There is no money in updating old games. It is not likely to sell most of them. Far better to continue to produce new ones. The problem, of course, is that everything in the pipeline is 32-bit. It is saving me money, so that is probably a good thing. However it leaves me with only one game (free from the Apple store) with which to waste my time. Back to the iPad I guess.

The much more irritating change is Apple’s desire to require 2 step identification. On the surface it seems like a good idea, make your device more secure and less likely to be jacked, should it be lost or stolen. But, tell me please, exactly WHY I should have either my face or fingerprint on file with Apple? Especially the fingerprint.

I know that I have fingerprints on file, that is what you have when you spend 33 years in the US military. No sweat. I don’t care if those fingerprints are in law enforcement databases or the FBI because of contributing to the US military. But, I really, really don’t see why a commercial entity such as Apple needs to have my fingerprint. And if any of you really believe that Apple (altho better than FB, Twit, SnpCt, Instawhatever) is not going to use your information, I have beach front property in Scottsdale to sell you.

Car Keys

Holly Doyne Posted on by 15

I am sure that I have mentioned at some point that we are down to one set of car keys. The last time that second set was seen was over a year ago. George swears that he hung them up; I am not so sure that happened. But in any case, we have just one set of keys to the VW. The good news is that the car doesn’t have an electronic lock. It is one of those times when I was delighted to be old fashioned. I want a key that goes into the lock. Not something that you drop somewhere near the ignition to release it. Not a clicker that is continually disappearing somewhere, delaying me getting out of the car. I want to turn a key, not press a button. Start the car, not ignite the engine.

Ok, so maybe I am being a luddite, but getting a second key in this case is going to be a lot cheaper than getting a second electronic key since that involves changing out the whole electronic lock.

What started me down this trail of concern this morning? I have been staying with a friend in the outer Sunset. Driving in yesterday, I parked my car in her driveway last night. Drivers in this area where there is extremely limited street parking don’t leave that meter free at the end of a driveway. They park as absolutely close to the edge as possible. Meaning that the width of the space through which I had to drive was less than a meter wider than the car. As I parked last night, I was thinking that backing out was going to be even more fun.

This morning I packed up everything and worked my way through all the locks to place my backpack and bag in the car. Went back in to check on everything, then back out to the car. Key? Where was the key? Obviously I didn’t lock it in the car (not physically possible). Went through my two bags. And the floor of the car, and the back seat. Nada. Went back in the house, checking out the bedroom in which I had been staying. Checked under the bed, checked the garage. Trying not to pull my hair out, I decided to take a deep breath and retrace my steps once more. It is not like I could Muni & BART to the East Bay to get the other key, because SOMEONE lost the other key and hasn’t gotten around to replacing it.

I am trying not to wake up Jessica and her son with my rustling around. My last hope was the hall. Turning on the light, I didn’t see anything along the carpet. But, hello? That lump under my shoe which I must have bumped, moved and stepped on at least twice?

My car key.

In the morning

Holly Doyne Posted on by 25

Barring anything unforeseen – I get to take George home tomorrow. It means that we will be making every other day trips in for transfusions, but I figure that is well worth the hassle. For George? Different walls, own home, bed. But no order off the menu, newspaper delivered every morning, or being woken up two-three times a night for vital signs.

I think it is a good trade off.

We spoke today with both the pharmacist and the nursing educator. So other than anything else having to do with IV meds, I am hoping we can hit the road fairly early (or at least avoid evening rush hour…)

Migraine

Holly Doyne Posted on by 4

There is not much to talk about today. I never left Berkeley. For a short while I pretended that I was fine. But when I contemplated attempting to deal with a bus, traffic, people, etc I went ahead and acknowledged my limitations and took my meds and went back to bed.

George still had platelets in the double digits this morning, avoiding all need for transfusions. His docs are pleased. I may be able to spring him as early as Thurs. In any case, Will drive over in the morning so that I can pack up everything in preparation for heading home.

I can also bring along the supply of meds we have so as to prove to the pharmacy people that I am not kidding and have no intentions of repurchasing anything I already have on hand.

Recipe cards

Holly Doyne Posted on by 3

or 3×5 cards as they were known back in the day where most of the world was on the English/Imperial system of measurement. I was familiar with them as a child because every adult female seemed to have a collection upon which favorite recipes were written. And there were all sorts of fun and wonderful special boxes for these cards. After all, wouldn’t that just be the best present for any little girl in the 1950s? Channel her straight into her role as chief cook and bottle washer? (Sarcasm folks). But as I am sure those of us who date from that era can testify – most small presents, from household items, to books, were very definitely along societies gender expectations and stereotypes.

How did I get here? Oh, right – 3×5 cards. and WordPress is not capable of handling a post name which starts with a number. So I used the alternate name of recipe card which started me down the trail of…. oh, never mind.

I sincerely regret to inform you that 3 x 5 cards for the most part had little to do typewriters. Rather, as you did research for any particular subject, interesting facts, references, ideas of what to write each landed on its own card. When you figured you had collected enough information to put together enough pages that would meet the professor’s requirement, you sorted them into the best order possible, then wrote the paper from the parts. Most of us were not insane enough to either type out the cards – since that would have involved hauling a typewriter to the library for all those instances of using non-circulating reference materials. In fact, long hand was the preferred and most likely fastest method of producing a first draft. This draft was then edited into a reasonably acceptable form. Only then did fingers meet keys.

Meanwhile – It is really hard trying to concentrate on anything here in the hospital which is why I am ready to go back to 3×5 cards. They are much easier to use for a bit here and an idea there. No computer required. If one is being used, then I can avoid flipping between documents. All of which lessens the pressure and gives me the ability to organize the material in different ways.

My alternative to this point has been three documents open at the same time – an table of contents which is being filled in, a reference list, and finally – the note pad equivalent of my old standby – random paragraphs in note pad which I can cut and paste.

If I believed in superstition, I would arrive at UCSF tomorrow all ready to go with pens, cards, post it notes and my reference printed material organized and indexed to find that George’s white counts are continuing to climb, his platelets are holding steady and I can haul him home in the next 5-7 days. And then I get to start the commute to the clinic with him 2-5x a week all over again.

 

 

old school typos

Holly Doyne Posted on by 19

long ago, and far away. Ok – more than 50 years and in the middle of the country. Does that sound better than saying….”once upon a time” or “in a galaxy far, far away” or any of the other expressions that seem to lead you to the conclusion that you are about to hear a story. Perhaps a fairy tale, maybe a tall tail, or just a blearily remembered version of a long ago event.

But this is not a story, it is real and many of you may remember exactly the same thing. I am talking about the era before computers, before word procesasors. Back to the days when a terrific high school graduation present was a portable typewriter for anyone headed off to college. Obviously, when you had to write a paper, it was written long hand by one method or another, then typed ONCE. Preferably without error….

[and you wondered where “typo” came from? No, you didn’t because you remember typing and typewriters. You remember typing as an elective that could be taken in secondary school. And, for the lawyers in the group – you are more than familiar with those yellow legal pads and might even remember the days when lawyer wrote things out and there were actually secretaries that typed them for you.]

There was this funky stuff that came in a small bottle resembling a thickened nail polish. It was called white-out (or correction fluid). If you made a typing error, you carefully rolled the paper up, painted over the error, blew it dry, rolled it down and tried again. Most faculty accepted neither handwritten papers by 1968, nor once that suffered from a serious case of white measles. Several years later a type-over tape was developed. Even later, with the advent of typewriters with a double ribbon (one portion of which was for erasure).

I had one of those portable typewriters. Other than my undergrad thesis which was subject to a number of really strict formatting guidelines, I typed all my own papers.  Hitting return involved not my little finger but a hand/arm motion to move a lever which in turn actually retuned the whole roller carriage to the start point on the right side of the paper. (I imagine that the Mid-Eastern typewriters of their day worked in reverse for the left->right written languages.)

I have no clue as to what happened to that type writer. It must have been given away, lost, forgotten somewhere along my journey after the mid 1970s. I obtained my first computer in 1984 when we moved back to the US from my first Germany tour to attend grad school at John’s Hopkins.  I know it was gone by then.

And what started this whole chain of thought was actually not typewriters, but 3×5 cards. But I will save that for another day.

In other news, for the sixth morning in a row, George has actually had detectable platelets and is now producing white blood cells. None of it is at “going home levels” yes, but that looks like a possibility in the next 7-10 days if this stem cell transplant continues to take hold.

 

Daily adventures

Holly Doyne Posted on by 10

Every day is a new day. Every new day is an adventure. Some of them are fun, others have to be endured and some are brought on by personal acts of stupidity.

Take, for example, my need to use Muni & BART. Yesterday I took Muni, followed by BART followed by AC65 up the hill to our house. Each step of the way required me to produce my Clipper Card. No problem, right?

This morning I ran some errands with Shana, ending with her dropping me off at El Cerrito Plaza. I needed some more of a single color of floss. It should have been obvious to me, but I somehow forgot – floss is dyed. Dyeing is done in lots. If you are doing a large project with a single color, you need enough of the same dyelot to finish the whole project. Yes, I had an infinite amount of black around, but somehow I decided that midnight blue would look better. End result? I had to buy more floss. Ok. Then I stopped at Luckys and picked up teriyaki chicken wings. Which turned out to be too salty for me. Seven/eight left.

Arrived at the El Cerrito BART. Couldn’t find my Clipper Card. It wasn’t in the jacket pocket where it normally hides. I wasn’t wearing jeans, so it wasn’t in my back pocket. It wasn’t in the front pockets of my backpack; nor was it at the bottom of my craft bag. So…. I bought a regular adult one (note – us seniors get a 40-60% discount) and used it to get to Embarcadero. Exiting there, I ran into a tired young man hoisting a back pack. “How are you doing?” “I’ve had better days.” “Would chicken wings make your day a bit better?” “Yes” So I passed along the chicken wings to someone younger, less likely to be bothered by the salty and obviously hungry.

Got on the N-Judah at Montgomery Street Station. Got off at UCSF, entertained most of the way by a pair of young boys (ages 3 & 5) traveling with their parents. The boys really, really, really wanted to hit the red “stop requested buttons” and continued to be disappointed when it wasn’t their stop. They did me the favor of pressing the button for me. I can only hope I didn’t start a new game.

After spending the rest of the day with George, I headed back to the N-Judah. checking my wallet in the elevator – my BART card – the Senior one with the discount – was exactly where I put it yesterday. So why hadn’t I remembered to check there earlier? Can I use the excuse of a new phone wallet? Or should I just accept the fact that the pocket it was in was obvious and that I spent double what was needed to travel the first half of my journey?

Ordering ahead

Holly Doyne Posted on by 11

I remember the old days of shopping. If you didn’t ‘t want to go in person, then you spent hours pouring over pictures in a catalog before filling out a form and mailing it off with payment. And then you would wait. And wait. And wait. It all depending on the store, the shipping warehouse and USPS. Even more so for those of us shopping from APO addresses. The alternative was calling in an order over the phone in the days when most call centers were in country, staffed primarily by unhappy women and strongly resembled this PDX Broadsides Song. But then, I worked as a an answering service switchboard operator on evening shift while an undergrad back in the days of answering services (which was also prior to the days of beepers.)

The development first of the USENET mailing lists and then open lists brought about a change in ordering. Interest groups could pass along information, recommendations, as well as challenges. With the onset of the first website – the whole institution of on-line ordering began.

Over the last thirty years I have watched the change from Penny’s, Sear’s, Vermont Country Store, Herschner’s, Land’s End and other catalog merchants move (or not move and go under) from a sales plan based off printed catalogs to one where a brick and mortar store was really optional and the important points became order fulfillment and managing shipping. This new era includes individuals who can now find countrywide and world wide customers through websites like Amazon, Etsy, and Ebay.

And then we moved on to smart phones and Apps.

I grew up in Minnesota. For any of you who ever listened to the old “Prairie Home Companion” (the link is to Wiki) you may understand that where I grew up, coffee was made on the stove, in a percolator without any of those new fangled electrical connections. The addition of eggshells was +/- and viewed as personal preference (mostly related to whether or not you had Scandinavians in your family.) As the article notes, drip coffee makes had started to spread from the industrial/restaurant sectors (that always tastes burned brew served in every truck stop across the US) to the home.

Fast forward to today. Many of us have become coffee snobs. Perked coffee isn’t good enough, neither is drip. No, it needs to be French Press, or an Americano (take expresso, dilute with boiling water). We buy coffee from Peet’s, Starbuck’s, small neighborhood coffee shops and develop a preference while ignoring exactly how much money we are spending on designer coffee.

I mentioned the Apps, right? Now why would you stand in line when you can order ahead? Not only do you easily specify all those quirks which makes it special to you (frappa, crappa, no whip, skim, extra hot, with a drizzle of…..) but no human interaction required. Just like the old catalog days, only providing even more immediate gratification and less personal contact. And it is different than calling your local pizza parlor for take-away, something that hasn’t changed in decades.

I like the idea of shopping locally. Supporting local businesses rather huge chains. But I have to admit I like Peet’s coffee and have gotten suckered in. It is so much easier to order off the app as the N-Judah passes UCSF Parnassus. The Peet’s at Carl & Cole is only two minutes (supposedly) further. By the time I get off the tram and walk ½ way down the block, my beverage is waiting for me. It is labeled. I don’t have to try and get the QRF reader to recognize my phone, nor are there any communication issues with the staff in this tiny, noisy, and extremely busy coffee shop.

As I hike up Parnassus to UCSF, I enjoy my latte. It certainly isn’t the evil brew I remember from childhood, nor the sludge I served in the diner where I worked while in high school. Have I gone over to the dark side? Or am I leveraging modern technology?

Close the door

Holly Doyne Posted on by 8

It was about 0720 and I had my morning all planned. Walk over the SFVA, figure out where to get my flu shot. Get my flu shot. Get coffee if I had time. Catch the shuttle bus to UCSF. Said bus only runs once an hour (at xx36) so if I timed it just right I arrive to spend the day with George right about 0900.

Headed back into Jessica’s downstairs guest room, I pulled the door shut behind me just in case there was a cat lurking. It isn’t that I don’t care for cats. I like cats. But I really didn’t want this particular scaredy cat stuck in with my stuff the whole day. So I closed the door. Gathering up my things, I went to open the door.

It didn’t open. There is no lock on the door, there was no reason for the door not to open. The knob turned, but the mechanism didn’t disengage. Being a modern woman, I sent Jessica a txt to see if she was still home and could open the door from outside.

No. The credit card trick failed, as did wiggling, jiggling, or turning the knob from either side of the door.

Now, this is San Francisco. Of course there was a metal guard over the window as it was ground level. Also being savvy people, there was a padlock on the grate. It took a few minutes, but I managed to pop out the screens, and traded the padlock key to Jessica who was apologizing from her back garden for a screwdriver and hammer. The door hinges were on my side, so it looked like, if we couldn’t get the quite rusty padlock open, I could pop the pins off the hinges and remove the door.

I had just loosened up the second pin when Jessica managed to open the padlock. One side of the metal frame opened. I climbed out the window after passing over my bag and phone. The door should be fixed today.

And, I jogged over the SFVA (1.7 miles – old system) across the park. We will not mention the fact that the hospital is on top of a hill (345 feet = 105 meters according to archived documents I found on line). Nor that going across this small section of Golden Gate Park means that first I drop down a few meters in elevation (to essentially sea level) before starting the grind up the hill. Of course, 2/3 of the trip is up hill. The lovey people at the information desk said that the general medical clinic on the 1st Floor (note, this building is old enough to have a ground floor) was my desired location. I headed up the stairs. After all, what is a bit more climbing? Checking in, the Flu Shot clinic started at 0830. Ok, I would have plenty of time to wait and knit.

No sooner had I turned around than one of the nursing staff called me in. No sense in waiting, she said. I asked about the Walgreen’s agreement to provide flu shots free of charge to Veteran’s. It is working well, she said, but they haven’t included the high dose version (which is exactly what all of us over 65 need). Having just enough time to grab a latte from the lobby’s stand, I caught the 0836 shuttle bus.
For anyone else who is old enough to remember the Stargazers (1995) – and this song – which starts with the words that were running through my head

Close the door, they’re comin’ in the window
Close the door, they’re runnin’ up the stairs
Close the door, They’re hangin’ off the ceiling
Those (Bah-dah-bah-dah-bah-dah) are everywhere

I am providing you two links –

The original recording – Close the Door, they’re comin’ in the window….

And an updated, much funnier version Close the Door, they’re comin’ in the window

Berkeley for a night

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Since my friend, at who’s house I have been staying, arrived back in town, I am freed from cat sitting duties. Not that the cat was willing to be “sat.” This particular cat is high on complaining from under the bed, scolding me, and evening whining. But not being willing to come out for a visit. So I was perfectly happy to leave her lording it over me (she thinks she won because her person is back and now I can just shove off – thank you very much) and head to my own bed for a night.

What was also on the agenda for the day was a stop at UCHastings for an afternoon seminar on current California legislation (in the Trump era). The time was well spent, informative, and reflective of the fact that California, by itself, is about the world’s fifth or sixth largest economy. Scary that. Which explains why a certain regime is so unhappy with the state’s willingness to maintain all the rules which have been applicable for the last 30-40 years. (and no, I won’t go any further down that soapbox or rabbit hole). Not that many people showed up, which means there was a lot of food left over. Cannelloni, yum.

North Berkeley BART to 29 Sushi to home. And laundry, and house clean up. and sorting stuff out.

Nothing exciting there…

words in my head

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don’t do me anywhere near as much good as words on paper (which, in today’s world translates to words in an electronic document). I have come to acknowledge that putting off finishing the requirements for the two outstanding incompletes from grad school is not doing me any good. In fact, it more resembles the garbage left too long under the sink. The longer it sits, the more it smells. The more it smells, the less you want to deal with it. At some point, the nose is held (clothespin optional) and the stinking container is emptied, washed, and put back with all good intentions to avoid this cycle in the future.

Then the future rolls around again.

Please understand – I don’t give a flip about grades, all I want it is “met enough work to warrant a pass.” Having said that – it is hard to imagine putting in hours of work researching and writing for no good reason if the end results could possibly be of benefit.

It is the old Tikkun olam. Build the world a better place.

So… the background to today’s public health challenges include the following:

  1. San Francisco is an extremely expensive place to live
  2. The tech boom has resulted in an increase of 100k jobs over the last decade and the loss of 30k in housing in just the last few years
  3. The weather in California is not as bad as many of the other parts of the country
  4. changing demographics have resulted in marginalization of portions of the population.
  5. San Francisco became the mecca for a number of lifestyles starting in the 1960s

 

Now, back tracking to 2008-2009, there were several medical publications that discussed Hepatitis A infections and risks in homeless populations. Those discussions centered, of course due to the standard medical tunnel visions, on immunizing everyone to avoid disease.

So why was everyone in both city governments and public health circles so stunned when an epidemic of Hepatitis A started sweeping through homeless & IV drug user communities (and yes, there can be an overlap between the two). I fail to understand why anyone was surprised. Or, even more stunned to be in a situation where a normally mild disease most often seen in childhood in most of the developing world, various institutions was causing hospitalizations and death. This epidemic was recognized, not because of the obvious failure of the city, the infrastructure and public health to recognize the failure to provide for a vulnerable population but that hospitalization costs were skyrocketing.

The solution? According to the CDC – we should adopt the 2009 recommendations (hello, this is now 2017….) to add homelessness, IV drug use or MSM* to the list of peoples needing HepA immunization.

For those of you who don’t remember the history of Hepatitis A – this was the food/water borne version of hepatitis for which you (as a citizen of a developed country) received a large shot of gamma globulin in a major muscle group (usually gluteus maximus). 5cc is a significant volume, trust me. In 1995, the first versions of HepA vaccine became available. Every military member with a brain in his/her head was more than willing to get immunized. One shot with maybe a booster vs large/painful shot every 3-6 months while deployed? Other than the military, most of the other developed world citizens at risk of HepA were tourists indulging in street food while visiting developing countries. With the usual transmission being the fecal-oral route, it was obvious to everyone concerned that sanitation was as important to breaking the infection cycle as immunization.

We seem to have forgotten that bit of intelligence. It doesn’t matter if you immunize the whole world against a disease. That is one disease. As anyone who has every had noro-virus, salmonella food poisoning or one of the hundreds of other possibilities, the key to not getting diarrheal disease is availability of toilet facilities accompanied by strict adherence to hand washing. Which takes us to a city where there are no 24 hour public toilets, hand washing facilities are limited, no one wants homeless encampments, there is not enough shelter space for those who need it, and serious money is spent on a daily basis on power washing human excrement off the sidewalks.

Yes, we can immunize everyone. But it is not going to solve the sanitation issue.

I am making some basic assumptions. The first is that most people do not chose to be homeless. That they don’t set out to be vulnerable, dirty, and hungry. That, if they had the money to have food and shelter, they would. But San Francisco has teachers in their schools living in cars because they can’t afford a place to live.  I also make the assumption that mental health, substance abuse issues, and physical health issues impact lives to the point where many become homeless. And those problems don’t become better by being without a home.

<two hour break in which I spent digging through PubMed. Surprise, surprise, all the public health people, when discussing issues related to the HepA outbreak mentioned and repeatedly mentioned that sanitation was a serious issue and one of the most difficult to resolve. Having said that – it is no where in any of the CDC guidance. Just immunizations. Go figure>

I finished off the draft memo – sent it on its way, and spent sometime working on a Hitchhiker variation in a lovely yarn color called – magic unicorn.

 

*MSM= men who have sex with men…

 

Yogurt

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There are serious limits on George’s diet right now. Processed foods are fine, prepackaged complete with preservatives and fixatives. But nothing fresh, nothing from outside that doesn’t fit into the above categories, and certainly nothing home made.

UCSF runs an a la carte menu for patients. Rather than trying to come up with multiple daily menus, balanced meals and pap that no one would possibly want to eat – they actually treat patients as adults and let them order anything they are allowed to have off the menu. Up to six times a day. The only limits actually being the times of day that the kitchen is open.

But they have breakfast all day, soups, snacks, pizza and entrees after 1100. There are options from more than just the standard middle America fare, the ice cream (available in vanilla or chocolate) is Hagen Das, the vegan shake option smells horrible.

Last spring, the pudding option became one of George’s favorite and I had to find a local source for the first couple of months home before the novelty wore off. The yogurt wasn’t to his liking. A couple of days ago, I noticed that the Peet’s I have been stopping at on the way in morning carries smallish containers of his favorite brand of yogurt. It is prepared. It comes in a sealed container. He is allowed to have it, along with canned vanilla lattes.

It is a nice change from bananas, crackers, and peanut butter in single serving containers.

 

Strider

a sneakily simple knitting pattern from Martina Behm – takes one skein of sock yarn and is all garter stitch.

Strider

Oct 2017

Holly Doyne Posted on by 3

As I was looking over posts from Oct 2017 – I realized that lack of cheap internet access on the NCL Sun meant that I never got around to posting pictures from Fleet Week, the Blue Angels, the Bridges, San Francisco, or the SF Bay. Since I finally found the old photos on a back up hard drive (and yes, sorting by year, month, date is the only way to go), I decided to share. It is not like otherwise there is a lot of thrill in seeing garter stitch scarves or listening to me whine about lack of progress on those papers still hanging over my head.