Prognosis Progress
Since I’m not sure how much the grapevine knows:
Mom’s doing incredibly better. She can stand on her own for a short time, and walk fairly well with a kind of cut-down walker thingy.
Last night, she was able to move her fingers on her own. The therapist had a TENS unit causing the fingers to twitch for exercise, then suddenly looked at Mom and said, “I turned it off a few minutes ago. That right there is all you.”
So there we are. Her leg is supporting her, and her arm and hand are taking commands again. She just needs to practice a while for dexterity, and she’ll be back on the computer and back to her knitting.
This is WONDERFUL.
Entropy loses a round
Hmph. The Microsoft Office 2008 icons are kinda ugly.
Listening to some Vangelis music at work this morning. “Alpha” is one of those tunes that sends tingles up my spine when I listen to it, and awakes wonder and potential in my mind. If only I could stay in that headspace for days at a time… it probably wouldn’t be good for me, but I feel that I’d get a lot done while I could stand it.
I wonder where the ‘tingles’ come from? It’s absolutely a physical sensation to me, but I have no idea what produces it.
Far more importantly, my mom is walking now without human assistance. She’s still using a walker or crutch, but given that she couldn’t even move the leg two weeks ago, this is an absolutely awesome development, and I joked that she’s making far better progress than I did. If any of my friends have ever wondered where my buried stubborn streak came from, this may provide a clue. I am thrilled for her – and while she’s there, they think they may be able to correct a nerve issue that’s pained her for about 20 years, so, silver lining!
And speaking of doctors, it took me a visit to Wikipedia to learn that the awfully-familiar looking archaeologist on Doctor Who this week was Dr. Corday on ER for seven seasons. Cool.
Reverse Engineering the Future
First day in two weeks I’ve felt halfway decent. My sleep was restful, the little headache pulses are gone, and I even had the initiative to get back to walking today. (Only 2/3 of a mile, because it got cold out, and I didn’t bring a jacket this morning.)
Tonight I will be catching up on housework and bills, and of course giving my Mom a call to see how she’s doing.
Was thinking more about the high-tech Captain Nemo today. If you dropped today’s MacBook Pro in his workroom, I suspect that he’d figure out how to turn it on, and even use some of the software if there wasn’t a login password. I expect he’d work out what the battery was, and might even be able to recharge it using the technology of his time. I’m sure he could work out the basic concept of the motherboard, and I’ll even grant that he could reverse-engineer the simpler peripheral protocols with enough brute force, time, and care.
I’m fairly confident, though, that the LCD screen, integrated circuits, memory, and hard disk would be completely beyond him. At his technology level, any of them would have to be ripped apart and destroyed to achieve even a basic understanding of the principles involved. A magnetic storage medium might be within his imagination, but the ability to build another one just wouldn’t exist yet.
(A few of the TNG and DS9 episodes annoyed me in this fashion, showing the heroes taking apart communicators and tricorders with utterly primitive tools. I’m convinced that one couldn’t even crack the cases with less than highly specialized tools, and if one did, the contents would be largely integrated into a few non-user-serviceable bits. But that’s just me.)
Perhaps Nemo could accomplish much with “black box” parts delivered by a mysterious supplier, much as the scientist-heroes of This Island Earth did. But could our justly-paranoid sea captain trust the source?
130 Leagues Over the Asphalt
T – I – R – E – D.
Went back to Roanoke on Saturday. My mom’s doing great: she can move both her leg and arm now, and on Sunday took a few steps (with a great deal of support). I’m told this is still Gold Medal performance, and my optimism was repeatedly fed this weekend. nanoreid was there for a bit, and I got to say hi to Ginny and Ian as well. Starr bought my mother a knitting loom which can be fastened to a solid surface, and now my mom can indulge her addiction one-handed for the duration!
Roanoke felt a little odd, there are buildings and shops which weren’t there last time I passed through – a bit like hearing an old song on the radio and finding an entirely new chorus after the second stanza. I took a hotel room there Saturday night to save us the drive to and from shrewlet‘s offered crash space in Blacksburg, but while the room was huge, the bed was hard as a plank, and we slept poorly for folks who would be driving 204 miles home. Route 460 was a beautiful, tranquil drive, though. I’m sold on that road for now.
Yesterday we woke too early, and headed over to spend lunch with Starr’s mom, then the afternoon at Amy’s with the gamer group. Her mom was going to gas grill the food, but after the gas loop rusted away at a touch, we went with good old charcoal, and lunch was yummy. I now know where Starr gets her habit of cooking a regiment’s food for a few people, and felt guilty leaving before I could consume a second hamburger.
While the afternoon was sold as a combination grilling / gaming event, I’m not sure anyone was really into the gaming, and after a few hours of excellent chatting and cattching up, we left to get me some badly needed quiet time. I developed yesterday something that feels much like my old migraine headaches, something which comes in short, searing pulses then goes away for a half-hour or so. (One of the first things Starr did when hearing about that was to check me for stroke indicators – of which I seem to have none.)
In geek news, the Mars Phoenix robot probe has a Twitter account. Andy Ihnatko referred to the account as cosplay for rocket scientists, but I’m enjoying keeping up with what the probe’s doing (or at least what it was doing 15 minutes ago – speed-of-light lag, y’know). Some quick Googling finds images taken by the Mars Recon Orbiter of Phoenix on the way down (Phoenix Down?) which means that we Earthlings not only managed to hit a target scores of millions of miles away, we got a picture of it from another camera that had previously done so under our instruction. [T]hese are the things that hydrogen atoms do when given 13.7 billion years. – Carl Sagan
So, yeah. Probably another early bedtime tonight, which is a shame because I wanted to get some WoW levelling in. With luck, the rest of the week will go a little easier on me!
Drama Burger, may I take your order?
I’m back home from Roanoke. (Salem, if you’re being picky.)
As I mentioned in the locked post, Mom’s in the hospital after suffering a stroke. She’s lost motor function in her right limbs, but still has full sensation, vision, and her normal faculties.
Sunday night Starr and I discussed the situation, and I decided to head up Monday morning. Mom was surprised and very touched to see me, and I got to see her moving her limbs ever so slightly – perhaps a centimeter or two – which, only days after a stroke, is a major accomplishment. I’m hoping for her sake that this is the beginning of a swift recovery. She’ll be starting physical therapy next week.
On top of that, Starr’s PT Cruiser is in the shop, and we just got Midori-kitty back from surgery. If exhaustion counts as exercise, then I’m completely caught up.
Much thanks to everyone who offered assistance and good wishes. It means quite a lot.
Must – Control – Jaws – of Death…
The cat wishes everyone to know that he was highly paid for this television appearance. The hamster… would like some more carrot bits please.
Game blogger Tobold suggests that WoW players would reach endgame with far better raiding skills if there were quests where you had to practice raiding with sets of NPCs. Aside from the time pressures, one reason I don’t do instances is that I’m not very good at them, and I think this is a fine idea. When I do have to hit an instance dungeon for a quest, I usually end up in the company of several far-higher-levelled guild mates, and my presence becomes a bit unnecessary. This idea would mitigate the problem a bit.
rhaps and shrewlet are coming down this weekend, which is a good thing because my Technicon experience was extremely rushed. I envy Rhaps’ new iMac, which is the same model as my Mom’s. But I’ll have my Mac Pro soon enough.
Paying bills, finishing paperwork, getting all sorts of ducks in a row this week. (They were sitting out front again this morning, enjoying the humid weather.) It all feels good. Also: new blender yay 🙂
Technicon 25 Pre-Show
I have driven to Orlando. I have driven to upstate New York. In neither of those cases was I responsible for the steering wheel the whole time, if at all; so, yes, a five-hour drive can absolutely wear me out!
Since NASA Langley is practically sitting on I-64, I packed the car on Wednesday night and headed right to Blacksburg from work Thursday. 64 and I-81 aren’t too unpleasant on a Thursday evening; my CD player may be broken, but the iPod plays through it nicely except for the pauses when it tries to eject nonexistent CDs.
Unfortunately, my transmission started throwing fits around Afton Mountain (who could blame it?) slipping and locking into third gear three times on the trip down. Pulling over for 10 minutes each time seemed to reset things, but that’s no way to run a railroad.
I made it safely to the Microtel, where I was informed that the wireless access was a bit spotty on my floor 🙁 Nevertheless, in an effort to adjust my sleep rhythms for the weekend, I stayed up for a couple hours unsuccessfully farming Primals in Zangarmarsh, only getting kicked off the server three times.
Friday I headed down to see my Mom (one of the main reasons for my Thursday travel), which was lovely. We traded Xmas presents and had good conversation over a mildly disappointing lunch. Interestingly, I’m still on a hot-rodded Mac G4 tower, and she’s got the latest and greatest iMac Intel Core 2 Duo, which she took great glee in showing me.
Went to the lube place, got the transmission flushed, and had them look at my rear tires, which were making unhappy growly noises. Yep, they needed replacing. Technicon was getting expensive already…
Funeral scribbling
Got back last night from Salem / Roanoke. rhaps and shrewlet let us stay overnight at their place with no notice, and Rhaps even came down to the service on Friday. I’m really glad, too because it was one more familiar face for raininva, and I think that meant much to her.
Dad thought highly of both Rain and Starr, and I felt they should both be there. The family proved their great class by welcoming and supporting them both; I don’t know if I’ve even been prouder to be an O’Brien. Beth, Cathy, Benny and Jamie (old-guard Batron Starfleeters) showed up for the public reception on Thursday too. Interestingly, time_shark‘s name came up a few times, as it turns out that my dad and my dad’s dad knew Nelson Bond’s family pretty well, and I got to reminiscing with some of the Bonds and their friends about the Showtimers and the southwest Virginian fiction community.
My father was involved in fascinating stuff I never even heard about, stuff I can’t even talk about here. There was a long stretch of my life where I wasn’t close to the man, but I thought I had a pretty good idea who he was and what he got up to. I was right in some ways, and completely wrong in others. I wonder what else I missed?
My sister Whitney, of whom you’ve heard me talk almost nothing here because we too have been somewhat out-of-touch, asked me to be a pallbearer. I was honored, and I’m not sure I could have been talked out of at least trying… but this may have been the stupidest testosterone-induced promise I’ve ever made. I’m not supposed to lift over 25 pounds since the hip surgery; to be fair, I violate this on occasion, but usually with discretion. I strained several muscles, and nearly fell over once. Thank goodness no one said anything. At least I did no actual damage to myself.
Whitney’s one-year-old daughter Kennedy was with her for the two Thursday receptions. Baby singing and the throw-the-toy-on-the-floor game was exactly what I needed that day. Everytime the walls started to close in, I’d just look at Kennedy’s innocently quizzical expression, and things got a tiny bit better.
Friday on the way home, I stopped by my Mom’s, and she and Starr and I grabbed some lunch. While trying to dig up some Tintin comics I wanted to re-read, I found my old I.P.M.S. award for the Ether Flyer Thunderchild model, as well as some Pathfinder group shots and another portion of my dice collection. I can’t believe how much of my life is still at Kentland. I despair of fully sorting through it.
This too, is a bit rambly, but I’m getting closer to my center again. Tried to do a little fiction today, but the headspace isn’t there, and I’m determined to write something. I don’t have the luxury that a Conan Doyle character would of six months of “brain fever”. Bills gotta be paid, chores gotta be done, and life goes on.
And on a crass note, Dad was going to take care of my Dragon*Con travel for me. This isn’t an entitlement whine, but a note that I don’t have a Plan B yet. We’ll have to see what I can work out.
