A Poem for Memorial Day

by Edward Arlington Robinson

The Dark Hills

Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground.
For now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade—as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done.

Circuit Training With Ashton Kutcher

Today I went to the County Recreation Fitness Center to learn to use the strength training machines. These Recreation Centers are wonderful places. The one closest to my home is only 3 miles away, and has an Olympic sized pool, classrooms, racquet ball courts, and a fitness room full of treadmills, stair climbers, elliptical machines, and a bunch of intimidating weight machines.

After buying a fitness pass I was able to make an appointment with a trainer (at no charge) to walk me through using the machines safely and effectively. My appointment was this morning with Brien, who turned out to be a really sweet young man who looked like an 18 year old Ashton Kutcher, with the puppy-dog eyes and the floppy hair. He set up a circuit training schedule for me, and helped me get the right settings and weight levels. He stood by with advice while I worked through my circuit for the first time. The machines are really pretty cool. They keep track of your repetitions and sets, remind you to slow down if you are going too fast, and give you a report at the end to show what you’ve accomplished. I just totally enjoyed myself. I’m not too strong, yet, but I know that will improve. I plan to go back on Thursday to do it all again.

I didn’t really have a poem for strength training, so I am sharing a poem titled “The Courage of Women” by Jane Glazer, a poet born in Iowa who now lives and writes in Oregon.

The Courage of Women

I think of the courage of women,
how they endure,
how they walk miles to carry back water,
silence their pain, apportion
what’s left of the rice.
Keepers of eggs without shells,
they know how fragile the days are,
how hope can spill into the ground.

Jane Glazer

Thump Thump......Thump Thump

I saw the doctor yesterday and had good news on several fronts.

My leg is much better. Keeping it elevated and wearing the compression stockings for a few days did the trick.

I think that leg is just going to swell sometimes, weight loss or not, and the swelling can lead to cellulitis. When I was in high school I injured that ankle and it's not been quite right since. My mother was giving me a ride to the bus stop, and we were arguing. (I don't remember what about, but I was a high school girl so I frequently argued with my mother.) My mom dropped me off behind the city bus I needed to catch. I was running for the door when I slipped on the ice and went down. The bus driver didn't see me, and he started the bus and ran over my right foot and ankle. Because of the angle, I scraped a lot of flesh off that ankle, but oddly enough I didn't break any bones. So that ankle has been scarred and prone to swelling most of my life. (Now that I've broken the other ankle, my ankles match again.)

The doctor said I could wear the compression stockings for work when I sit at my desk most of the day, but probably won't need them the rest of the time. So that was good news.

The 24 hours heart monitor test showed that I have occasional skipped heart beats, but no other problems. My pulse varied from 50 (sleeping) to 132 (treadmill) and that is within normal range. I had no episodes of heart beats more than 2.5 seconds apart, no sudden rapid heartbeats or abnormally slow heartbeats. There were no episodes of arrhythmia. My thyroid tests were normal, too, so that is not causing the problem. The doctor thinks the skipped beats are caused by stress, and he's probably right. I've suffered on and off from anxiety attacks for years, and they usually start with a sudden thumping in my chest. The doctor said if the thumping continues to bother me he can prescribe medication, but he wants to just watch the situation for now. So my heart continues to thump, but it's not dangerous, and that's good news.

Overall my blood work was excellent. My fasting blood sugar was 86. It hasn't been that low in years. The doctor decreased my dosage of Metformin from 1500 mg/ day to 1000 mg/day and that's good news.

I've been with my doctor for 25 years and I love him. He's very careful. He answers all my questions. He takes me seriously, but he doesn't over-react. There is a serenity about him that is just what I need.

Serenity is something I need more of in my life, or maybe just in my personality. I'm hoping my yoga class this summer will help with that.

The following poem is titled "The Peace of Wild Things" and I love the serenity it describes.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

It's Not Supposed to Be That Way

About a year ago I got an infection in my right leg, over the shin. The doctor called it cellulitis, and treated it with antibiotics. It went away, but came back again, more than once. My doctor sent me to a vascular specialist who said the veins in my right leg were insufficient and that I needed to wear compression stockings and elevate the foot of my bed on blocks to keep my legs above my heart at night. I asked him how long I needed to do that and he said, “Until you’ve lost 50 pounds.” Well, I’ve lost 50 pounds, or really close to it, and I quit wearing the stocking about 6 weeks ago, although I still have the blocks tilting the bed. And guess what – the infection in my right leg is back. It’s not supposed to be that way.

I saw the doctor today, to show him my leg, and to find out why I am suffering from heart palpitations. Sometimes it just feels like something is kicking me from inside my chest. They come in bunches at times and just drive me crazy. (I keep waiting for the Alien to burst out of my chest.) The doctor could feel one when he took my pulse, and described it as a “skipped heart beat”. He did an EKG and it was fine, so he hooked me up to a portable heart monitor that I am wearing for 24 hours to see how often I have this problem. He didn’t seem too concerned. Apparently a lot of people get this and it’s no big deal. He said he could treat it with beta blockers if it really bothered me. Meanwhile, he said to go back to the stockings, keep my leg elevated as much as possible, and try to reduce the stress in my life, since stress is a primary cause of “skipped heart beats”.

I did 2 miles on the treadmill this afternoon. I figured I would test the heart monitor, but I felt fine. Now that I’m back relaxing in my chair, my heart is kicking up again. It’s not supposed to be that way.

OK body, I have a message for you: I lost 50 pounds. I eat healthy foods and I exercise regularly. You have to do your part here. You’re supposed to function properly when I treat you well.

Here’s a funny little poem by Dorothy Parker. Maybe she had the right idea.

Observation

If I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
If I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again.
If I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much;
But I shall stay the way I am,
Because I do not give a damn.

Small Things

Have any of you read the series of books about The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith? If you haven't, you should, because they are really lovely stories, and there is a lot of wisdom in them. I think it was HBO that made them into a television series. My kids got it for me for Christmas because I'd read and loved the books, and the series was very well done.

I copied a quote from one of the books and I'm including it here because I found it inspirational. I love the idea that small acts of kindness make a difference in the world. It also fits in with the Spark philosophy that small steps can change your life.

We seem to read or hear about one tragedy after another these days, from earthquakes to oil spills to terrorist bombers, and there isn't a lot we can do about any of them. But we can be responsible for our own behavior. We can change our lives one act at a time, and we can make a difference in the world.

From "The Good Husband of Zebra Drive"

"The world, Mma Ramotswe believed, was composed of big things and small things. The big things were written large, and one could not but be aware of them –wars, oppression, the familiar theft by the rich and the strong of those simple things that the poor needed, those scraps which would make their life more bearable; this happened, and could make even the reading of a newspaper an exercise in sorrow. There were all those unkindnesses, palpable, daily, so easily avoidable; but one could not think just of those, thought Mma Ramotswe, or one would spend one’s time in tears—and the unkindnesses would continue. So the small things came into their own: small acts of helping others, if one could; small ways of making one’s own life better: acts of love, acts of tea, acts of laughter. Clever people might laugh at such simplicity, but, she asked herself, what was their own solution?"

-- From Book 8 of the "No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency" series by Alexander McCall Smith.

I don't have a link to the rest of the book. They are available at the library, or book stores, or by ordering on line.