My Truant Pen

Camp Gramp Monday

I have now written this post three times. If you sneeze when posting, it goes away. Anyway, it should be good by now.

After the weekend, which was Camp everyone and truly spendid, I have lost track of the days. But Monday was truly Camp Gramp. We went to Big Creek in the afternoon. It is a beautiful camp ground, uncrowded and on a lovely creek. The kids played there for 90 minutes or so, even though it was a bit cold. Thane made an effort to return all the rocks on the shore to the river. His aim is not perfect and poor Sebastian got clunked on the head — no blood. Grey built a fabulous dam system with canals, etc. Sebastian made it all the way across the creek. Then the boys built a fire (Ok, all the boys except Thane) and we roasted hot dogs. Good thing they are pre-cooked.

We took the Osborn Mountain trail until the grass got taller than Thane. Carolyn found a tree that had fallen explosing the roots. She declared that she was a dinosaur and those were her eggs.

Finally, Jiffy pop, which was spectacular, and s’mores. Take Thane, add marshmellow, then dirt — my oh my.

The only problem with the day was that I forgot the camera. The kids posed for me on an old tree stump — can you imagine the picture.

A good time was had by all. Today is farm day. Pioneer Farms – then Sheila’s house to visit our 1/4 cow and fish in her pond. I am excited!

-GMM

Editor’s note: I got some good pictures of the kids mid-creek, but you’ll have to wait until I get them off my camera!

Ruddygore

I have been going to the Seattle Gilbert and Sullivan’s Society since I was nine years old. I remember those first trips allll the way in to the city. I remember the dark, fancy restaurant where we ate – my relations boisterous recounting previous years’ productions or scouting escapades. (My grandparents were professional scouters, as were their friends.

Obviously, I have missed many years, what with the “living in Boston” bits. I’ve never seen Pinafore! Heavens! But this year it transpired that we were in Seattle for the annual trip – this year to see Ruddygore.

I am less intimidated by the whole process than I was as a girl. It was at G&S that my family renewed it’s friendship with my Godfather, who, during my high school years took me to see roughly one performance in Seattle once a week. (Yes, for four years.) He took me (and my siblings) to Ashland for the Shakespeare festival, to the Seattle Opera’s Ring Cycle. He had season tickets to four theaters in Seattle, and I accompanied him to them for years.

He was there this year for Ruddigore. But other beloved faces were missing. My Grandmother had continued going even after a surgery gone awry had robbed her of the use of most of her body. My Grandfather presided jovially at the table for several more years, until he also died. Most of my cousins, although local, have not chosen to continue attending. On the other hand, my nephew Baz sat rapt during the operetta, extending the performances to the fourth generation.

Yes, fourth generation. One thing I learned during this year’s dinner is that my family and my godfather have been attending the Seattle Gilbert and Sullivan society’s productions FOR 53 YEARS. Since 1958 or ’59.

What an awesome and enduring tradition! Without the previous generation, it can be hard for the siblings to stay together – stay in more contact than Facebook. But this tradition brought all four brothers together once again, with old family friends, to talk about what was, what is, and which G&S operetta is our favorite. (I’m caught between fan favorite Pirates of Penzance and Iolanthe, which is much funnier when seen in conjunction with Wagner’s Ring).

This production of Ruddygore was no disappointment. For a more obscure operetta, it had a goodly number of marquee numbers. The staging and cast were, as always, superb. And best of all were the friends and family!

Camp Gramp Day 3

Day 3 has a multi-update. Day 4 will not have an update since we’re all here together today, so mom is cooking for us instead of writing. -ED
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Camp Gramp Day 3 — I would like some produce for the weekend. Who would like to do a purchasing run?

2 large red tomatoes — for slicing on sandwiches
2 lbs of peaches (or 4 lbs if you think we need two pies)

It is Unca Matt day. He says tonight might be the star gazing night — tell Adam — he wanted to be sure Grey got star gazing. It doesn’t start until 9:30 or so, but I think it would be OK. (Ed. – We didn’t make it home until 11, as apparently going to Crater Lake does NOT add simply a paltry hour to the drive between Ashland and Mineral.)

Love, -gmm

Camp Gramp 3A — Today is going to be amusing! I just heard my son, you remember him, Mr. Candy, say to the children as they walked up the street from getting the mail. “Let me reiterate, candy does not equate to food!”

Camp Gramp 3B — 76.8 F does not seem like swimming weather to be, but it is Crazy Unca Matt day and they did have a good time. Thane should have been named Poseidon or something — that boy does love the water.

Day 3 – finals
Really nice day. Weather the likes of which we treasure and fun with the kids. Unca Matt has them ready to do a play about Jonah on Sunday. Carolyn is the champion of prop creation. She made very creative water from the blow hole of Jonah’s whale.

The older three are still up. We are going to do star gazing tonight. We decided that Thane should go to bed, but he must sense that something is up. He is still awake.

Now for 3 or 4 thousand words — in pictures!

Camp Gramp Day 2

Today was a stay at home and settle in day. We were supposed to make shirts, but there was the case of the disappearing transfers, so shirts tomorrow. We made visors, which were a hit — see the picture. Very interesting project. The walls are beginning to have pictures on them.

There was much playing of the DSs today. Grey and Baz were playing a game together. Thanksfully, they provide their own tech support, I certainly can’t. Thane put together 4 puzzles. He is amazing! He just picks up the pieces and puts them in. He has a little puzzle putting together song he likes to sing — in fact he likes to sing a lot.

Tomorrow, Unca Matt day!

Camp Gramp Day 1

Long time readers will squeal with delight to see that yes! It is Camp Gramp time! (OK, maybe just T, but she totally counts!) For newer readers, Camp Gramp is an annual tradition where my parents take all of their grandchildren for a week and they all have a fantastic time. Camp Gramp is noted for its tents (for sleeping), theme song (new), official breakfast cereal (Lucky Charms) and various and sundry delights. My mother usually sends updates to we parents – scattered as we are – sometimes to the ends of the globe during the festivities – so we see that our kids are having a great time, while we are too. I usually cheat and share my mom’s updates while I’m off gallavanting.

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Baz (8) and Kay (6) joined us today at noon at Bradley Lake Park for the official start of Camp Gramp 2011. They are a great age. Baz and Grey chased and played hide and seek. Kay assumed guardianship of Thane and explored all of the play equipment. After lunch we walked around the lake.

Then we headed home, spent some time in the bouncy house and back yard, ate dinner of meatballs (beloved) and potato salad (a failure) and corn (disappeared). We put up the tents and the first tragedy happened. The new tent we bought from Baz needs to be anchored — as in tent pegs. This does not work on the living room floor. I don’t know whose tent it is, but there was one in the garage. It is too large, but we will have to make do. They all loved their new PJs. Thane’s are too small. Kay’s are a triple win. Pink, gauzy, and unicorn. Can it be any better? Getting to sleep wasn’t easy tonight. Thane wanted loud music and to sing, others objected to this. There was much wiggling. But I think they are all down now.

Thane’s mom said she expected the scratch and dent report, so here it is. Thane has been particularly blessed — in the French sense. Yesterday he bumped into the desk in the bedroom — fortunately the expected black eye did not appear. Today there was a little adventure at the lake and it involved blackberries. His arms are scratched. But he didn’t complain.

Knee analysis

This morning I went in to physical therapy, walking flawlessly down the hall. “So what’s up?” my PT asked. “Funny you should ask….” He looked downright put out when he heard the extent of the interior damage. “Let’s retest you and get a new baseline.”

So I laid down and bent my knee. I straightened it. He moved it left and right, up and down, all around. Finally, he put his hands on his hips, “Are you sure they had the right MRI, because there’s no instability at all in your knee.” So it’s not just me… I really am super stable sans ACL.

Still, I have a big decision to make. It’s not ok for me to spend the next several years of my life never bending my knee. Moments like that dinner will happen again, and you know… sometimes it’s not convenient not to be able to walk for several weeks. So I’ve more or less decided to get surgery. I was sure pretty much from the get-go that I’d get the meniscal tears mended. The recovery time (as in normally walking) is 2 – 4 weeks on that, probably more like 4 since I’m having two procedures done. I can do both ACL and meniscal procedures at the same time. The recovery time for an ACL reconstruction is 4 – 6 weeks. Both procedures will require months and months – up to a year for ACL – of physical therapy afterwards. With the ACL reconstruction, it will be 6 months before I’m up to my usual habits as an elite athlete. (Oh wait…)

On one hand, I seem to do pretty darn well without an ACL. On the other hand, the “incremental” cost of an ACL replacement is 2 or so weeks from just a meniscal tear. I also save “incremental” physical therapy costs by bundling the surgeries. Additional data points to consider:

– not having an ACL makes it more likely I will tear my meniscus… which means this whole scenario could happen again
– meniscal tears make arthritis more likely
– I am pretty active. I like hiking and would enjoy playing raquetball.
– my children are 2 and 5 … a two year old is hard to manage with a healing knee

So my tentative plan is this:
1) Plan for surgery in mid-September. (I’d like to enjoy my summer, thanks!)
2) Spend the next two months getting my knee super strong and healthy to make my recovery period as short as possible.
3) Can’t help but wonder if it would be better if I could lose some weight. Of course, if that was easy vanity would have already accomplished it.
4) From mid-September, with say 8 weeks of serious knee instability, I’m likely to be walking well by mid-November. This means that by the time the snow flies, I should be pretty stable.
5) Six months from September means that by next summer I should be fully healed, and should be able to, for example, go backpacking.
6) Surgeries are done on Tuesday. I’d probably take the remainder of the week off (sort of depends on how I’m doing with pain meds) and then work from home for another week or two.
7) I’ve done some investigation on my dr. and hospital, and they seem middle of the road: not the best in the state but perfectly fine. Is that good enough?

There’s absolutely never a good time for a young, working mother to be out of commission for a month. But I do need to be able to walk, and this appears like a permanent solution (assuming I never, ever, ever go skiing ever again).

So I’m curious what you guys think. Am I missing a data point? Am I correctly interpreting the abbreviated recovery? Do I need to replace the ACL at all given the stability? What would you do in my place?

ACL? ACL? We don’t need no stinkin’ ACL!

I waited a long time in the doctor’s office before he came in. The walls were plastered with various problem joints: knee, hand, ankle; and the ways they can all go horribly wrong. I averted my eyes from diagrams of pins and screws and plates and fractures.

Finally, after a good wait, the doctor came in. “The more we look, the more we find!” were his opening, cheerful comments. “They told you about the ACL tear, right? Here, you can see it on the MRI.” (I could do no such thing.) Then he directed my eyes to several other locations on the screen, “You can see the roughness and tears in the meniscus over here. And over on the other side – that white spot is a cyst formed because your knee is leaking fluid. There’s another tear in the meniscus on that side. And see this bruising? This must have been from your recent fall. It will take quite a while to heal. We call that a bone bruise.”

At the end of the session, I have five things wrong with my knee, three of which must be addressed:

1) Completely missing ACL. He says I must’ve torn it 12 years ago when I went skiing for the first time, and I haven’t had one since.
2) Meniscus tear 1 (lateral) – from my recent fall
3) Meniscus tear 2 (exterior) – from my recent fall
4) Cyst – from the meniscus tear
5) Bone bruise – from the recent fall

The cyst and bone bruise should heal themselves – or be healed by treating the meniscus. But that’s not one, but two surgeries laid out there. I would have to get ‘scoped for the meniscus. The ACL recovery would be rather more involved, probably including a cadaver tendon threaded through my knee and attached at both sides. Recovery would be in the months – to possibly a full year before I’m 100% A-OK! And lots and lots of physical therapy. (Although there’s a good prognosis that 100% A-OK would be the eventual outcome.) I honestly don’t know if I am going to do the ACL surgery, or if I’ll do it now. Maybe 7 and 10 would be better ages than 2 and 5 to be out of commission for a few weeks. And if I’ve gotten this far without an ACL… do I really need one? I’ve apparently hiked the Wonderland Trail without one. On the flip side, they make meniscus tears more likely, and meniscus tears make arthritis more likely. I think Dr. Google and I will have a long chat about this, but there’s no rush. The doctor said I could be a triathlete without an ACL – running, swimming, biking are all ok activities. Basketball, soccer and side-to-side activities are a real problem. I’d probably need a brace for even hiking.

The meniscus tears are more acute. They’re the probably cause of my swelling and pain. And possibly I have them because I had no ACL to protect me. So I have consented to the scoping surgery. I’ll schedule it for after my summer vacation.

The crazy thing is that with all this bad stuff going on in my knee… I’m actually walking ok. Not perfect, but ok. I was walking almost perfectly, WITH all five of these elements in play. I can walk distances without harm. I have most of my range of movement. I’m just…. kind of scared of it all. It all sounds like a big, painful deal that will have me flat on my back for weeks. I mean, when I got really sick this winter I couldn’t even take a few days off from my responsibilities – and I could make it upstairs. How would I do with weeks flat down and months of weakness? I don’t have TIME for weakness.

So that’s the news. I suppose the bright side is, well, I’m wasn’t overreacting to this injury!

When SPF 70 can’t keep the summer from soaking your skin

This much credit I deserve: I applied and reapplied sunscreen for what seemed like all weekend. But I confess, I’m finding it hard to regret the sunsoaked, warm-to-the touch, reddish-brown tinged skin currently covering my arms, legs and face.

I am not a native New Englander. I have never pretended to be. I don’t drink Dunkin’ Donuts. I only use terminal “R”s in words that actually include the letter “R”. And until this weekend, I had never spent a summer weekend at someone’s family beach house. But a couple weeks ago, some friends of ours asked if we’d like to join them at an ancestral beach house over the weekend. I was figuring it would be about the same degree of luxury as camping, but why not! Sign me up! I mean, I’ve wanted to go camping with friends for years!

Oh, how low were my expectations. How high were they exceeded! It felt wonderfully New England, as though I might finally starting to be more than a tourist of unusually long duration, to be headed South towards the Cape on a Saturday morning. Of course, in true New England style, there was terrible traffic on 93. We did not finish the typical route, eschewing the Bourne Bridge and Sagamore Rotary to head further South, to Buzzard’s Bay. Specifically, to the West Island State Reservation.

The Reservation is, more or less, an island connected to the mainland by a brief and sandy causeway. There are a few streets worth of small houses – cottages – on the reservation on the West side. The East side is, well, reserved. The house in question was right up against a private beach, in the first row of houses. Back in the 50s, after a major hurricane (Edna, perhaps?), a long-sighted ancestor of our friends purchased the house for a very low price. Of course, the price was so low since the house was in the middle of the road. But he was, quite obviously, a skilled mason. He returned it to the correct location, and built it up with thick stones so it seems unlikely to move again. It was a very cozy, friendly, three bedroom cabin with a superb view of the water, a long lawn and steps down to a shallow pebbly cove with extremely warm water.

There are some moments that are just perfect. Neck deep in warm salty water, surrounded by friends and laughing children, watching sailing ships on the horizon… that counts as perfect. The sea breezes through the cabin were perfect for sleeping. The friends and conversations were a delight. Late on a summer night, I sat at a table with my husband, my son and my friends and we played a board game.

Castle Panic, well after Grey's bedtime. He did an awesome job.

There were rematches of Trollhalla, shared cups of coffee on breezy back porches overlooking sparkling waters, conversations in bouyant warm waters, the delight of children playing, swimming and laughing, and home made Whoopie Pies. (You’re missing out.) And at the end of it, there was the kiss of sunshine on my cheeks and shoulders.

It was absolutely everything I might want a weekend to be.

Pictures!

At least it worked

My knee was pretty swollen on Friday, after the aspiration. But I woke up Saturday morning much more able to move. Now the low back is more of an issue than the knee.

My plan is to not bend the knee for more than it takes to walk up the stairs until I get an MRI done. At the time I ate that fateful (tasty tasty) dinner, I could do pretty much anything knee-wise.

It was a catching up weekend. Catching up on laundry, dishes (oh, the dishes), grocery shopping, house cleaning, toy removing, church stuff (including writing a sermon and finishing off the membership wall pictures) and keeping our children from killing each other. Yes, they’re at that phase of brotherhood. The catching up might have been easier if my husband hadn’t had to work a full 8 hour day on Saturday. But now we’re caught up. And we we to our church picnic and had a blast today, and I took a nap, and had a nice walk so I’m feeling cheerful. And I’m mostly all caught up!

Tomorrow is “Library Pizza night” – one of my favorite nights! It’s also farm share day, so wish me luck finding room in our fridge for the abundance. (NOTE: I have long thought of buying a new, larger fridge. However, doing so would require altering a load-bearing wall and completely refinishing the pantry. For SOME reason I haven’t gotten around to it yet.)

Update on el Knee-o

I went to the Orthopedic Surgeon today. (Actually, I went to the very nice PA who works with Orthopedic Surgeons and had about a billion times more time to spend on me than the surgeon did.) I explained my mysterious knee-malady. She agreed that the knee looked really really swollen. She pulled it and twisted it, trying to figure out where the boo boo was. The originally injured tendon was right about where it should be at 10 weeks of healing. The stiff tendon was fine. The swelling? Was downright mysterious.

Then, she aspirated my leg. NOTE: If you have problems with needles, do us all a favor and stop reading now.

They could've at least given me a Spiderman bandaid....

OMG.

For those of you not following along closely with my entire life story, I have what we like to call a “high pain tolerance”. I gave birth without drugs – without so much as tylenol – TWICE. But I’m really kind of personally struggling right now. There’s this long-going knee thing and the back thing and the two-year-old-asserting-himself thing, and the constant feeling that I’ve completely fallen down on everything I need to do. I’m having a hard time. This, I truly believe, has an impact on one’s ability to tolerate pain.

First the PA pulled out a bottle of licodaine. This is a sign you will not enjoy your next 15 minutes or so. Then she pulled out two hugely ginormous needles with veritable vats of suction capacity. My confidence in my buffosity began to wane. The licodaine burned. Then the big needle. I won’t go into exactly what she did with it. Let’s just say that the licodaine was insufficient, I screamed several times, and at the end there was 30 ccs of clear yellow fluid in the syringe.

She’s sending the fluid into the lab to check for things I hadn’t thought to worry about (infection, lyme disease, gout). I’m also to be scheduled for an MRI so we can get to the bottom of this mysterious swelling. (She seemed skeptical that sitting with my knee bent had cause it, but by gum the correlation was so unmistakable!) She says my knee should feel better now that it doesn’t have 30 ccs of extraneous fluid in it. I’m still waiting for that.

But boy, am I out of cope. I hope the boys are superlatively behaved tonight, or they may find themselves headed to bed at 6:15.