Noon at 9 O’Clock, Team Bist du Stark and Sooner Rather Than Ladder

It had been a few days since our last sighting of the frog formerly known as “the little one.”  Now it is the middle-sized one and we were getting worried that something had happened to “Noon.”  We sat down to eat dinner in the screen house and Jeff said, “There’s one of them on the rocks!”

I looked over at our little round pond and said, “It’s Noon!”

Jeff said, “No, it isn’t.  It’s 3 O’Clock.”

We simultaneously realized that both of the little ones were there but not in their usual places.  I said, “Oh, do you see Noon at 9 o’clock?”

Jeff said, “Yes, and 3 O’Clock is at 6 o’clock.”  He laughed at our ridiculous conversation and decided it was a little like Abbott and Who’s On First.  For your listening pleasure, here is the classic: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sShMA85pv8M

Jeff was very tired on Tuesday, the third night he applied his clown make-up medication for his face rash.  He is supposed to rinse it off after 10 minutes but when I suggested that it had undoubtedly been 10 minutes already, he sat inert.  He watched TV through TWO more commercial breaks and finally rinsed.  The next night he realized he was too burnt to do another treatment.

The dermatologists saw Jeff on Thursday and agreed he was burnt and that he should discontinue the treatment.  Jeff thinks he may use the mask once a week since it did seem to help.  He will, however, have to use it as directed!  Another medication was prescribed which is often not covered by insurance for patients past twenty years old.  It is an acne treatment.  A second medication was prescribed in case the first was prohibitively expensive.  On Friday, I went to the pharmacy and picked up the medication.  It was $45 which is more than our usual Rx co-pay but less than the bazillion dollars that the dermatologist suggested it may cost.  Jeff used it this morning and said it dried his skin.  That might be good since pustules continue to appear.  The rash is beginning to appear on his chest as well although this area does not appear to be infected.

Jeff asked the doctors why this continues to be a problem for him.  They said it was due to the low dosage of Prednisone he is now taking, “Less steroid, more rash.”  They do not seem overly concerned.

Kim and I visited Bartram Gardens in Philadelphia this morning.  Then we had lunch at a bar where Kim had seen Harrison Ford filming on Monday (it’s near her work), and then we went Shopping For A Cause at Macy’s.  Our cause is, of course, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s The Dude Hates Cancer event.  The link to Kim’s team’s webpage is available from their picture at right or you can link to Kim’s page here:  http://epa.tdhc2012.llsevent.org/ng/index.cfm/b340ae/regPages/pledge/KIMLOUX/

While Kim and I were shopping, Jeff installed a small air conditioner in our bedroom.  It is a wall unit to assist our central a/c on the hottest nights when the upstairs doesn’t quite stay cool enough.  Our old, old, old, old unit broke this summer and although we have not needed it much this year, some years we really do need the extra boost.  Naturally, the new unit required a differently-sized hole in the wall than the old unit.  Jeff started this project a couple of weeks ago and petered out.  He tried several times to get the job done.  This is the kind of project that would have been a small task for the old Jeff.  I began to worry that the new unit would be out of warranty before we ever plugged it in.  Uncharacteristically, Jeff had left the ladder propped to the back of the house from start (weeks ago) until finish.  I mowed around the ladder at least twice.  Jeff suggested painting the ladder white to match the house so he wouldn’t have to take it down at all.  Ha!  Anyway, it was a nice surprise to see the project finished on the outside at least, the siding replaced and ladder collapsed on the grass.  Jeff will need to have help returning the ladder to the garage.

Week two at 2.5 mg of Prednisone begins tomorrow.  Continued prayers, please, for a successful taper.

Grange Fair, Three Green Frogs and a Clown

We made up for Jeff’s having missed the 2011 Grange Fair by going not once, not twice but three times this year!  That is, three fair days plus the trip up to enter a spoon in the wood-turning category.  He earned a red ribbon and a $5 prize!  We collected his spoon and prize money tonight and walked the fairgrounds one last time.  Some of the animals had already been taken away and most of the vendors were clearing out.  Exhibitors carried away their photography, Lego projects, vegetables and jellies, along with their ribbons.  Some were first-time exhibitors, proud of their beginner’s luck.  Others were veterans repeating the familiar routine, also proudly.  I have been at the fair at clean-up time before and always felt it was a sad time.  Tonight, though, Jeff and I chatted and strolled, enjoying the activity. 

We see family as well as old friends at the Grange Fair each year.  On each of this week’s visits to the fair, we stopped in the pig barn to see whether Sarah G. had entered a pig (she had – and a young dairy steer, too) and to take a chance that we would run into her mother, Debbie, a customer of Jeff's.  We hadn’t seen them yet but tonight we walked past the judging pavilion and Jeff thought he saw Debbie sitting in the nearly empty stands.  There were some young people in the ring and a judge was commenting on their entries but we couldn’t see what they were exhibiting; they held their entries close to their bellies.  In the center of the ring was a heap of soiled wood shavings.  Evidently, they had already begun the clean-up in here, even though it appeared the judging wasn’t finished.  I finally got a glimpse of something with construction paper ears and realized they were showing their pet rocks!  How silly and fun!  Debbie saw Jeff as we slipped into the stands.  She gave him a big hug and a kiss and was genuinely pleased to see him.  Debbie chatted while she snapped pictures of the kids in the ring.

The judge was an excellent commentator, perfect for the mock occasion.  He reminded me of my father who always found nice things to say when judging guinea pigs and rabbits, even when the animals were obviously pets and not necessarily show-quality.  He would praise the child’s good care of the animal and the animal’s nice ears, whatever.  The kids in the pet rock contest were doing it all in jest.  One girl wore her mucking boots. All the exhibitors posed as if they were showing their sheep or cattle.  It was very funny!  Debbie explained that the young people organize these silly contests for the last day of the fair.  Last year there was a goldfish contest.  Cute!

After the awards were given, Jeff showed Debbie his award-winning spoon.  He told her, “This is what I am reduced to.”  She admired the spoon’s nice grip and I wondered why Jeff didn’t offer it to her.  He told me later that he was thinking about it but wanted to put one in a gift bag for her.  Debbie told us that she reads the blog and that Jeff inspired her to click on the Be The Match link and register her marrow for donation.  I was touched by her generosity and puddled up a bit at the thought of it.

Kim came up from Philly for the Grange Fair on Thursday night and spent the night with us.  In the morning, I took her out back to show her Jeremiah, a large Green Frog who has taken up residence in our yard, and a younger frog, as yet unnamed.  She crept toward the “pond” (our 3-foot-in-diameter water feature).  As she approached, the young frog jumped into the water.  I said, “Oh, too bad!  You missed the small one.  Did you see it jump in?” 

Kim said, “It’s right here.”  I looked where Kim was pointing.  Sure enough, there was a frog that was much smaller than the familiar “small one.”  So now there are three!  They tend to sit on the rocks surrounding the water feature in about the same spots.  Those positions helped us to name the younger ones, Noon and 3-o’clock. 

Jeff and I check with each other daily as to whether there have been frog sightings, “I haven’t seen 3-o’clock today, have you?”  They remain very still in the grass, even when I mow, so that it is nerve-wracking to mow around the water.  I am on high alert, heart racing as I circle the pond with the noisy machine.  We are becoming attached to our green friends and have begun reading how they winter-over and wondering whether they’ll still be here next spring when, our Master Gardner friend Annie tells us, they will make a twanging sound.

We spent a lovely Saturday evening with friends Ken and Kathy who shared good food, great wine from their Sonoma vacation (winery tours set up by their son, a sommelier!), and, best of all, great company.  We talked about the joys of empty-nesting.  We shared grief over the loss of our parents.  We talked about our children and extended families and friends and politics (tread lightly!) and furniture and… our souls nourished, we headed home late (well, old-fogey “late”) and collapsed into bed. 

Jeff helped Kerry patch his roof this weekend.  He came home this afternoon, sat on the sofa and admitted that the 15-minute ride home was difficult because he was so tired.  Within minutes he was sleeping sitting up, still dirty from his labors.  Eventually, he got up and showered and was somewhat rejuvenated.  He offered to take me out for a birthday dinner at a vegetarian restaurant that I like and that he tolerates.  I appreciated his offer and asked for a rain check.  He tried to tell me that it was a one-time offer!  We’ll see about that!

The dermatologist had called Friday and asked Jeff a lot of questions about the change in his face rash.  For example, she asked, “Did you have a lot of acne as a teenager?”  He said, “Not like this!”  She told him to come and see her on Thursday at the Perelman Center and she prescribed a “cleanser.”  I picked up the prescription, Sulfacetamide Sodium & Sulfur Lotion, and read the instructions.  I told Jeff it sounded “a little fussy.”  He was not thrilled, threatened not to bother with it and scoffed at the price, a $30 co-pay for a non-generic Rx.  Finally, tonight I convinced him he should apply the stuff.  The instructions said to wet his face, avoid mucous membranes when applying the lotion and let dry for 10 minutes.  It went on like sunscreen, leaving a little white lotion here and there.  I set a timer for 10 minutes at which point he was supposed to rinse it off.   Meanwhile, I went outside to do a little weeding. 

I had been in the flower bed out front for a few minutes when I heard Jeff come out.  I looked up because I thought I heard him speaking to a neighbor.  There was Jeff, walking to the curb with the recyclable bin in hand and totally unaware that his face had transformed to a perfectly white clown face.  This is a guy who doesn’t like to go to the grocery store with his work clothes on.  I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like the neighbors seeing him with what looked like a mask peel on!  I sent him inside to rinse, “The timer has probably already gone off!”  Surprisingly, he didn’t seem embarrassed at all, even after he looked in the mirror.  He also did not laugh as I did.  I checked the drug packaging for the most-likely-to-turn-Jeff-white ingredient.  I think it is “wax emollient.”  I hope the stuff works well.

We had a letter from Keith with news that he may return to training soon.  Thank goodness!  He told us that he bought 100 envelopes and the humidity sealed them all!  It was really, really good to hear from him. 

Jeff began the lowest dose of Prednisone on Sunday.  Please pray for success with the steroid taper.

Stitches and Skin

Jeff cut his hand today while building a closet for our friends Danny and Jennifer.  Jennifer drove Jeff to the hospital where he got three stitches between the knuckles of his forefinger and middle finger on his right hand (his dominant hand). The doctor said the cut is in such an awkward spot that neither glue nor stitches would stay very well but stitches seemed to be the better solution.  Jennifer had a busy day planned but she spent a couple of hours in the ER with Jeff.

Jeff called me at work to tell me about his injury, describe the bandage and splint and added that he planned to take the splint off tomorrow so he can continue to work on the closet.  I asked him whether the doctor said he was supposed to leave the splint on until the stitches come out in a week or until it heals.  “Ach!” he said.  I reminded him how long it took for his scraped shin to heal - weeks!  And the shin doesn’t move all that much.  Isn’t it possible his hand would heal even more slowly?

It seems to be taking a looooong time for this closet to be built.  Danny and Jennifer have been very patient.  The closet is on the second floor and requires many trips up and down the stairs.  Jeff tires by early afternoon, especially since he is still recovering from the cold he caught two weeks ago. 

We emailed Dr. Porter to let him and the dermatologist know that Jeff’s face rash is now tender and some of the pustules are filling with pus.  He has some in his ears.  Jeff was reluctant to report this change to his doctors because he figures it will mean another trip to Penn.  Nevertheless, it was the right thing to do.

On Friday we went to Longwood Gardens to hear Jeff’s brother and sister-in-law, Greg and Palmer, perform.  They were playing for Contra dancers and sang some duets between numbers.  We stayed to see the fountain and light show afterward and were able to enjoy the light installations of British artist Bruce Munro in the dark.

Between that little adventure, my niece Sarah’s graduation party and various other goings on, Jeff hadn’t been able to get a nap in three days.  By Sunday morning we were both exhausted.  We skipped church and stayed in bed until 10:30 a.m. watching nostalgia TV.  We reluctantly rolled out of bed and went out for brunch.  Then Jeff announced it was naptime!  We had a nice, relaxing day.  Life in the slow lane…   

Old House Fame, Deep Sea Adventures, and the Magic Purse

This week the October issue of Old House Interiors hit the newsstand with the article about Jeff’s kitchen job in Aurora, NY.  The author and homeowner, Catherine, had shared the unedited version of the article with us months ago.  Naturally, it was much longer and told a lovely story about the collaboration between homeowner and carpenter.  Some of that remains in the edited version.  My favorite line is “Jeff is a talented designer.” J  Of course we know he is talented, but it was nice to see it in print.  Here is a link to the online version of the article which, unfortunately, has fewer pictures than the newsstand version:
Old House Interiors

Jeff had asked Dr. Porter months ago whether he would be able to go deep sea fishing with the guys from church.  Dr. Porter said to cover up and he’d be fine.  So as the day approached, there was much anticipation.

Five days before Fishing Day, Jeff was down with a cold and low-grade fever.  It started with a loss of appetite which is highly unusual for Jeff so I knew something was going on.  His energy level had been low and I thought he might have been sad about that.  For two days he slept a lot and ate very little.  Fishing Day was coming and it wasn’t looking very good for Jeff! 

The day before the trip, Jeff insisted that he could go.  I gently asked, “Are you sure?  You can’t change your mind when you’re out at sea.  And it could be pretty miserable if you can’t sprawl out to rest.”  He insisted, “I’ll be alright.” 

On Fishing Day at o’dark thirty, Jeff crept out of bed, quietly dressed and left the house for his adventure.  I had my reservations.  I got up at a decent hour and wrote Keith a letter, “Dad will either have a great time or be glad he tried it.”  It was a long day and I cleaned the house and took my mother out to lunch while Jeff was gone.  By the end of the day, Giblet was parked with her nose toward the door looking as anxious as I was feeling.

Jeff returned late in the day.  He looked like he’d spent the day outside, despite wearing his UV clothes and floppy hat all day.  The rash on his face actually looked better.  And he didn’t head off to bed right away as I thought he might.  He told me he caught two fish but when I looked in his hands, at the cooler, I didn’t see any signs of these fish.  Jeff said, “John took them home.  We’re invited to a fish fry tomorrow at his house.”  I briefly thought this might be a fish story like when my father brought a deer home from a hunting trip and it was really his buddy who killed it.

“So,” I said, “if I want to eat the fish you caught, we have to go to John’s tomorrow and the only way we can have it prepared is fried?”  Yep. 

Jeff said he had a standing spot on the fishing boat but couldn’t stand that long.  He sat on his cooler.  After relating who caught how many fish and how busy the mates were untangling lines, Jeff showered and put shorts on.  I noticed his ankle was swollen, probably from sitting funny on the cooler.  He seemed to have had a good time, though.  I asked, “So you’re glad you went?”  He said, “Well… I wouldn’t go again next weekend if anyone asked me to.” 

“What about next year?” I asked.  He thinks maybe…

We did go to John’s and it was fun although I only ate a couple of bits of fried fish and Jeff’s appetite still wasn’t back to normal.

Now the story of the magic purse:  I went to the post office this morning to buy stamps for my letter-writing to Keith at Marine boot camp.  I put a letter to Keith on the counter and asked for stamps.  The burly clerk shouted, “Elena!”  Then he muttered to me, “I hope she sees you before you go.”  I thought how truly thoughtful some people are when they learn you have a son in the Marines.  Was he was calling “Elena” because he noticed the Parris Island address on my letter and “Elena” is one of those people who like to express their appreciation for those in the military?  This has happened a few times so maybe it was happening again.  When my transaction was almost finished the big man said, “I was hoping she could come out.  She would love your purse.”

Thirty years ago I purchased an awesome purse in the bargain basement of Bamberger’s for $3, I think.  That was a bargain, even then.  It was sort of like a basket. I lined it with colorful scarves and enjoyed for many years until a couple of the stick pieces broke.  Evidently, I showed the broken purse to Kim many times over the years and related my ideas of ways to repair it. 

A few weeks ago, Kim returned from a thrift store shopping trip with a “surprise” for me.  It was The Purse!  She paid $1.50 for it and was “pretty sure” it was the one!  And it was - an unbroken, identical purse!  I was carrying it the day Jeff got his immunizations at Penn.  By the end of that day, Jeff was rolling his eyes every time someone said, “I like your purse!”  People in the elevator commented on it.  The nurse who checked Jeff’s wrist band almost screwed up his paperwork because she was so excited about the purse. When the nurse who was giving Jeff his shots began to fuss over the purse, I hid  it to prevent any mishaps until after she was finished her important job and then I told her the story.

I went to church with my mother and the lady behind me tapped me on the shoulder to say, “I love your purse.”  At stores and restaurants and at work, everyone who beholds the purse comments on its awesomeness.  One day, I was talking to Kim and told her I wasn’t even sure whether I’d ever gotten rid of the old, broken one.  Sure enough, I searched in my closet and found it.  AND I saw - and now remembered - that Jeff had devised a way to repair it but I’d put the thing away and forgot it was usable.  So I gave the original magic purse to Kim.    

We recently ran into a classmate of Jeff’s from his St. Ignatius days.  The two men chatted and Jeff told Carl, “I’m more or less retired.”  Ah, that’s good.  That says in a nutshell what Jeff and I have been discussing about how he might spend his time.  It brings to mind my Grandfather Schmidt who did retirement especially well, I think.  He puttered at hobbies, did projects for family members, kept his house in good order and occasionally took on a paying job.  He and my grandmother traveled a little, too.  “Retired” is somehow an acceptable way of viewing his current situation.  

Jeff is down to 5 mg of Prednisone.  Pray for a continued, successful taper, please.