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So I'm in the City again. My father spent a couple of days in the hospital. His chest pain had gotten worse, but the thing that made the scheduling nurse at Kaiser tell him to call 911 instead of waiting around for a regular appointment with his primary physician was that he was having a harder and harder time breathing. They dosed him with oxygen,prednisone and pain relievers and did an X-Ray, a CT scan and a biopsy. He has not one but at least three masses in his lung that weren't there a year ago. The biopsy results aren't back but a friend who knows something about it says that very fast growing tumors are often benign.
Tomorrow they're sending my stepmother home from her hospital stay (she's been in post-stroke rehab). So the house has two people and an ancient dog all of whom need caring for. Luis is mostly taking care of himself but he ought to be doing less than he wants to and Moher needs to continue with intensive therapy to regain the use of her right hand, complete mobility, and full use of language. And Kaiser doesn't pay for that. So the network is devising a schedule of willing hands to be around all day and all night.
I took some amazing pictures of the view from here, at least if they come out, and when I get home I'll see about posting them. From this house you get about a 300 degree view -- only the front angle is obscured by the hillside. I can see Twin Peaks with the massive radio tower that looks like a monster come to stomp the city, large chunks of downtown, the Bay Bridge and the East Bay from there on down to the San Mateo Bridge, all that Hunter's Point shipyard stuff, and almost all the way down to San Bruno Mountain. It's a lovely city, well appointed with trees and barren hilltops and red banded chert outcroppings. It's a lovely bay. The eastern shore of the bay is beautiful too.
The house is full of dogs: only one lives here, but three others spend their days here. One is a sixteen hundred dollar fluffy little cinematic special effect puppy who goes airborne in his youthful enthusiasm. (Somebody has too much money, but it's not one of my relatives).
Anyway, it's just about spring, here. Not quite: that'll be in about three weeks, when the native violets begin to bloom (the wildly escaped viola odorifera from Europe has been blooming for weeks).
Oh, and it's not raining, and it didn't rain yesterday, and it probably won't rain tomorrow, and I'm not in my garden pruning fruit trees. I probably wouldn't be, anyway, if I were at home.
Tomorrow they're sending my stepmother home from her hospital stay (she's been in post-stroke rehab). So the house has two people and an ancient dog all of whom need caring for. Luis is mostly taking care of himself but he ought to be doing less than he wants to and Moher needs to continue with intensive therapy to regain the use of her right hand, complete mobility, and full use of language. And Kaiser doesn't pay for that. So the network is devising a schedule of willing hands to be around all day and all night.
I took some amazing pictures of the view from here, at least if they come out, and when I get home I'll see about posting them. From this house you get about a 300 degree view -- only the front angle is obscured by the hillside. I can see Twin Peaks with the massive radio tower that looks like a monster come to stomp the city, large chunks of downtown, the Bay Bridge and the East Bay from there on down to the San Mateo Bridge, all that Hunter's Point shipyard stuff, and almost all the way down to San Bruno Mountain. It's a lovely city, well appointed with trees and barren hilltops and red banded chert outcroppings. It's a lovely bay. The eastern shore of the bay is beautiful too.
The house is full of dogs: only one lives here, but three others spend their days here. One is a sixteen hundred dollar fluffy little cinematic special effect puppy who goes airborne in his youthful enthusiasm. (Somebody has too much money, but it's not one of my relatives).
Anyway, it's just about spring, here. Not quite: that'll be in about three weeks, when the native violets begin to bloom (the wildly escaped viola odorifera from Europe has been blooming for weeks).
Oh, and it's not raining, and it didn't rain yesterday, and it probably won't rain tomorrow, and I'm not in my garden pruning fruit trees. I probably wouldn't be, anyway, if I were at home.
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