My immediate area, which is presently the hospital, is in the middle of an unforecast thunderstorm. I don;'t think the weather service has even figured out it is happening. We don't have tons of thunderstorms here, so it's a bit exciting. I'm operating on battery,so my computer's not going to be blasted. I have no idea if the hospital needs to shut down its server at some point, but that's not really my problem.
Anyway the video I posted, which is "Song for a Winter's Night" by Gordon Lightfoot, poet laureate of Canada, seems inappropriate for the weather we're currently experiencing here, except that i once attended a Lightfoot concert where he told the audience that the song -- with all its winter imagery -- was written in a Cleveland hotel during a thunderstorm. If I seem to be age-inappropriately obsessed with the works of Gordon Lightfoot, I'm not. My dad knew Lightfoot's longtime lead guitarist (who passed away about a year ago) so anytime there was a concert anywhere near us, we usually went. Rest in peace, Terry, and everyone else, give the song a listen if you have a chance. It's quite pretty. Sarah MacLachlan and several others also covered it, but it was and always will be Lightfoot's song.
My Dad's late friend Terry is playing lead guitar on this version.
It's good that I have all my class work finished, as I would have an extremely hard time concentrating on it now. I have a one more test this week and three next week. The late midterms are things I could manage if I were the one sick and not my aunt. I'll need my full cognitive function for finals, but those are almost three weeks away. My aunt will probably be running and playing tennis by then, or at least taking her dog for short walks.
I'm at the hospital visiting my aunt. "Visiting" is probably a misnomer. I'm watching her sleep and occasionally open her eyes and try to say something, which is not easy with all the tubes she has connected to her. This falls under the heading of "too much information," but one tube she does not have is a bladder catheter because they're breeding grounds for pseudomonas aeruginosa, and the last thing in the world she needs is one more way for that pathogen to invade her body. Once she regained consciousness, she demanded her regular undies back in place of the pull-ups she was wearing. (They were actual Pull-ups brand; the largest kiddie size fits her right now.) Bedpans were too gross for her as well. Even though she's not strong enough to to hold her own glass of orange juice, she demands to be helped to the bathroom because the remaining options gross her out too much. My dad says it's a sign that she's most likely going to live. Another sign that she'll ultimately defeat the evil pseudomonas aeruginosa, my dad said, is the expletives she utters despite her multiple tubes each time her pleural cavity is drained.
I'm too much of a coward to be out in the middle of a thunderstorm, creating a photograhic history of the event. This is a generic photo I found somewhere. It basically captures the essence of what's happening here without my traipsing out in the middle of lightning like the complete fool that I usually am, which is how I justify its inclusion.
Anyway the video I posted, which is "Song for a Winter's Night" by Gordon Lightfoot, poet laureate of Canada, seems inappropriate for the weather we're currently experiencing here, except that i once attended a Lightfoot concert where he told the audience that the song -- with all its winter imagery -- was written in a Cleveland hotel during a thunderstorm. If I seem to be age-inappropriately obsessed with the works of Gordon Lightfoot, I'm not. My dad knew Lightfoot's longtime lead guitarist (who passed away about a year ago) so anytime there was a concert anywhere near us, we usually went. Rest in peace, Terry, and everyone else, give the song a listen if you have a chance. It's quite pretty. Sarah MacLachlan and several others also covered it, but it was and always will be Lightfoot's song.
My Dad's late friend Terry is playing lead guitar on this version.
It's good that I have all my class work finished, as I would have an extremely hard time concentrating on it now. I have a one more test this week and three next week. The late midterms are things I could manage if I were the one sick and not my aunt. I'll need my full cognitive function for finals, but those are almost three weeks away. My aunt will probably be running and playing tennis by then, or at least taking her dog for short walks.
I'm at the hospital visiting my aunt. "Visiting" is probably a misnomer. I'm watching her sleep and occasionally open her eyes and try to say something, which is not easy with all the tubes she has connected to her. This falls under the heading of "too much information," but one tube she does not have is a bladder catheter because they're breeding grounds for pseudomonas aeruginosa, and the last thing in the world she needs is one more way for that pathogen to invade her body. Once she regained consciousness, she demanded her regular undies back in place of the pull-ups she was wearing. (They were actual Pull-ups brand; the largest kiddie size fits her right now.) Bedpans were too gross for her as well. Even though she's not strong enough to to hold her own glass of orange juice, she demands to be helped to the bathroom because the remaining options gross her out too much. My dad says it's a sign that she's most likely going to live. Another sign that she'll ultimately defeat the evil pseudomonas aeruginosa, my dad said, is the expletives she utters despite her multiple tubes each time her pleural cavity is drained.
I'm too much of a coward to be out in the middle of a thunderstorm, creating a photograhic history of the event. This is a generic photo I found somewhere. It basically captures the essence of what's happening here without my traipsing out in the middle of lightning like the complete fool that I usually am, which is how I justify its inclusion.
Self-consciousness is a good sign, even if it's annoying to deal with.
ReplyDeleteGlad she's experience an upswing.
^^Agreed. Awesome news.
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