Medical Mysteries: Something's Afoot

Afoot:  walking or in progress

It's hard to be afoot when something's afoot.  So despite the fact that the mystery pain in my foot had subsided to tolerable levels, I felt a trip to the doctor was in order.  After all, I'd been ignoring said pain on more occasions than I can remember. It's just that I don't like to be one of those people who rush off to their doctor for every little thing.  With injuries I pretty much wait until all hope of a full recovery is long past.  Hence the chronic tendonitis in my shoulder for an injured rotator cuff I just knew would stop hurting 'any day now.'  Ten months later...

'If something hurts for a month, come in,' my doctor had admonished me.  So off to the doc I go.  I explained my symptoms, offered up my diagnosis. 'Tendonitis,' I said.  'Gout,' he declared.  'Don't have the risk factors,' I countered.  'Family history?' he inquired.  Damn!  Bloody genetics.  I'd need to have my blood pressure meds changed, water pills are an aggravating factor. I pushed for tendonitis; he wouldn't budge.  But off to the hospital for blood tests, just to be sure.  And even if my blood tests didn't indicate gout, it could still be gout.  HUH??  That seemed a pretty random diagnostic tool.

I return a few days later for the results, prepared to bid adieu to red wine forever.  Okay, so I might indulge in one of the risk factors.  'It's not gout,' he says.  What happened to it could still be gout even if the blood tests were negative?  Apparently my uric acid levels were way too low to indicate gout. I further describe the mild pain I'm still experiencing -- it's localized, only hurts doing certain weight bearing exercises, going down stairs, and where the arch of my orthotic presses against it.  'Tendonitis,' he declares.  Oh, really?  Tell me something I don't know.  'Treatment?' I ask.  'Rest,'  he pronounces.  'Uh, no can do,'  Like I can quit walking.  Yeah, right.  Two weeks into that program, I'd be Jabba the Hutt.

So bottom line? I split the difference and quit running, just like I did before the Camino.  I'm hopeful -- nay, confident -- that I can avert any further outbreaks leading up to and during the UK extravaganza.  And of course I will be well stocked with Advil Liquid Gels should things flare up again.  And if that doesn't work?

Well...there's always red wine.


Book Reviews:  I'm a fan of the John Cardinal mystery series written by Giles Blunt.  His latest offering, The Hesitation Cut, is a stand alone.  In a nut shell -- monk meets suicidal writer.  It is a story of obsession, simply written, but very powerful.  Thoroughly enjoyed it.

Our latest book club offering was The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri.  Definitely outside my preferred genres.  One of those literary pieces that is more a slice of life, little plot.  Looking at the pages themselves was daunting -- sparse dialogue, huge chunks of narrative without benefit of paragraph breaks, long chapters.  But the writing itself was lovely, albeit rife with description.  The characters were beautifully realized even if nothing ever really happened.  I just know the folks in my book club will give this rave reviews.  Me?  I'm in the middle, didn't love it, didn't hate it.  Just not my cup of tea.

The Best Laid Plans

Ever notice the more you look forward to something, the more likely it is something will happen to throw a screw into the works?

For a full week before I left for my Camino, I don't know if I had a bug or if it was nerves that were making me feel so nauseous.  Lasted pretty much until the day I started walking.  

When the kid came home from her European travels in October, she brought a nasty, persistent cough with her.  I managed to steer clear of picking it up for three weeks.  Right up until the day we left for our little Seattle sojourn. Then I got it with a vengeance, along with a wicked sore throat.  I soldiered through but it really took a bit of the shine off the trip.

But nothing was going to ruin our planned post Christmas trip, my gift to the kid and my mum.  Three nights, December 26th - 29th, at the beautiful Crystal Cove Resort at McKenzie Beach on the west coast of the Island.  I'd booked it back in July because there was no way, no how I was doing the usual Christmas schtick another year.  Enough with the presents and the tree and the decorations and the turkey.  This year I'd be lounging in the hot tub, strolling the beach rain or shine, sipping wine by the fire.  I was so so so looking forward to it.  Yup, shouldn't have done that.

December 26 I wake up with a sore foot.  Nothing unusual in that.  I get this thing I call my 'foot pain' every now and then.  On the inside of my right foot, right on the bone above the arch.  99.9% of the time I can walk it off.  This happened to be the .1% time, forcing me to walk on the outside edge of my foot.  No biggie, I can deal.

We drove through a winter wonderland to arrive in pouring rain in Tofino.  You haven't seen rain until you've seen it bucket down on the west coast.  The wind picked up.  Surf crashed on the beach.  People pay good money to spend time at the coast during storm season.  And what would make that foot feel better than a nice soak in the hot tub before bed.  Umm...not a nice soak in the hot tub before bed?  I paid the price all night.  It ached, it throbbed, it swelled.  By morning my toes looked like stuffed sausages on the end of my foot.  Guess this was one of those ice, not heat, injuries.

I googled foot pain diagrams. I've had plantar fasciitis and this wasn't it.  Best guess? Something involving a tendon.  Posterior Tibial Tendon Tendonitis seemed to fit the bill. Treatment?  Ice.  Uh, yeah, I figured as much. And ibubrofen.  I always carry ibuprofen in my purse.  Except I didn't bring my purse.  Neither did the kid.  Or my mother who kept saying, 'we should go home.'  Did she know how much I'd paid for this retreat?  There was no freakin' way I was going home. To top it off it was Sunday.  Not much open on a Sunday.  So I hobbled on the beach, soaked in the hot tub with my foot hanging out the side, and drank wine.  And more wine.  After two nights of serious pain, I toodled into town and went to the pharmacy.  It seemed like mere minutes after taking an extra strength Advil Liquid Gel that the pain waned, the swelling deflated and I could walk like a semi-normal person.  At least I'd have one day and night without contemplating loping it off while I split firewood.

If there's a bright side -- and there always is -- I learned this.  It forced me to slow down and appreciate everything around me.  I was suddenly walking as slow as my 87 year old mother without getting frustrated by her pace.  I learned that I should keep ibuprofen on my person at all times.
    My plan had been to go to the doctor as soon as I got home.  That didn't happen post-holidays.  And it was no longer Emergency Department worthy.  Isn't that always the way?  By the time you get into the doctor, the problem has resolved itself -- until the next time it crops up and the vicious circle begins anew.

And now I'm thinking about my upcoming trip to the UK...the 160 km walk on the Cotswold Way...all the tours we have booked...

And I'm not looking forward to it at all.

Nope, not one little bit.


Book Reviews:  Didn't realize I'd gotten so far behind.  Descent by Tim Johnston came highly recommended to me personally.  The kind of book that my book club had me pegged for.  There was much to like, especially in the climax and ending, but the lead up dragged a little for my liking.

Michael Connelly writes two series, one featuring LA cop Harry Bosch, the other Lincoln Lawyer Mickey Haller.  He puts the two characters together in his latest, The Crossing.  Another good read in a long line from Connelly.

December's book club selection was Savage Harvest:  A Tale of Cannibals, Colonialism, and Michael Rockefeller's Tragic Quest for Primitive Art by Carl Hoffman.  It didn't go over big with the club.  Except for me.  I couldn't put it down.  Fascinating stuff.

I picked up YA novel Etiquette & Espionage by Gail Carriger because a young girl I know writes a book review column in our local weekly rag.  She made it so sound intriguing I just had to read it.  And I'd always wanted to check out the steampunk genre.  It didn't grab me at first, but once I tuned my ear to Carriger's tongue in cheek style, it was a pretty good read.  Might even pick up the next one in the series.

She's a prolific writer but I've never picked up anything by Karin Slaughter until Pretty Girls.  I would have liked to have read this one in a shorter time frame to keep the tension going but as these things go it was rather spread out over a couple of weeks.  Definitely a book where one's credulity is strained but it was a decent read with some pretty graphically disgusting descriptions.

There's A Big OUCH Coming

I'm the first to admit it -- I don't understand economics.  Except for balancing my budget and cheque book.  I kick ass at that.  I'm talking about world economics.  The things that happen that cause one country's currency to be valued more highly than another country's currency.  I've even googled it. And frankly, I still don't get it.  

Take Canada for instance.  We're a pretty stable first world country.  We weathered the recession of 2008 better than most.  It even says so on Wikipedia.  And if you can't believe Wikipedia, who can you believe?  It says our dollar is "popular with central banks" apparently due to our "relative economic soundness" as well as our stable "legal and political systems."  

And yet our dollar is worth shit.  I know.  Because every day I check it's value against the Euro and the British Pound (GBP).  Waiting, waiting, waiting to see if it will inch up even a teeny, tiny bit.  I was fully prepared for our dollar to tank when we changed our government this past month.  Of course it could also have done the opposite and soared but nope, it didn't do either.  It just keeps meandering along at about $0.75 compared to the US dollar.  We haven't been worth more than the US buck since 2007 and it had been 30 years before that since we'd achieved that status.  Sure, it didn't last out the year, but it shows it's possible.  I'm just not betting there will be a repeat before I have to shell out my hard earned loonies and toonies for Euros and British Pounds.

As it stands right now the value of the Canadian dollar $1.42 Euro and $2.01 GBP.  But of course that's not the exchange rate.  For example...I booked a tour on line with my credit card and when the bill came in the exchange rate was damn near $2.10.  That's what I call a big OUCH.  So when saving for a trip these days you really have to save double just to cover the cost of exchange.  

And it's not like the prices go down to offset the exchange rate.  Take for example our recent foray into the US -- a $5 latte at Starbucks is still $5. Making that latte about $6.75  Because even though our dollar is worth about $0.75, when you do the conversion it is C$1.00 to US$1.34.  Never been a whiz at math, but I don't get it.    

But enough belly aching.  I'm lucky I'm in a position to travel at all.  And once the money is exchanged I stop converting in my head just how much things are really costing.  Well, I try to anyway.  And because we will be booking and paying for the majority of our tours ahead of the actual trip, the ouch will be much less come trip time.  Unless of course things go for a shit and our dollar tanks.

'Cause that never happens...right?

Book Reviews:  A couple of disappointing YA reads.  Dumplin' by Julie Murphy was highly predictable and read much younger than YA despite the main characters being 17 year old high school students.  

Library of Souls by Ransom Riggs is the third and final instalment in the Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children series.  After loving the first one, being so-so on the second, if this wasn't the last in the series I wouldn't be reading another.  Love the premise of mixing in the vintage photos but this book didn't really get going until well over half way in.  Bogged down by endless description, if I hadn't been invested in the whole series I would have put it aside.  As it was it took me two weeks to read and I really had to force myself to pick it up.  

 

It's All Just Talk Until The Ticket Is Bought

"One day you will wake up and there won't be any more time 

to do the things you've always wanted.  Do it now."

- Paulo Coelho

We all know them.  The people who talk about doing stuff and then never seem to.  They never get around to it, or the timing isn't right, or something else comes up, or any of the other myriad excuses.  When it came to my camino, I didn't want to be that person.  I'd talked about doing it for two years so not going was not an option.  Once the flight was booked, I was locked in. There was no going back.

Same for the upcoming UK extravaganza.  I could talk about going all I wanted but it was time to seal the deal and hit PURCHASE on the Air Canada site.  Ordinarily I go to a travel agent.  Usually I'm booking a package, like a trip to Disney including air, hotel and tickets.  For some reason I just feel more confident letting them hit the button.  But hey, this was just a flight and there was a seat sale.  A seat sale that I have since found out can last mere seconds on line.  Trust me, they can disappear that fast.  I know.  It happened to me.  Twice.

So I checked my dates and times, my departure and arrival airports.  Twice. Three times.  Okay, maybe four or five times before I hit BOOK THIS.  And then I checked it all again -- because even the best editors and proofreaders miss stuff -- before hitting the all important PURCHASE button.  Don't know why, but that part freaks me out just a little bit.  And that could be the reason some people just talk about doing stuff.  Fear of commitment.  Fear of fucking up.

Talk is cheap.  Airline tickets are not.  But I'm pretty sure I got a good price. At least I'm happy with the price I got.  It was several hundred dollars cheaper than the amount I'd budgeted.  But I always highball so when I get something for less I feel like I've got a good deal.  Mind games.

It's only just a shade over five months away.  Seems so much longer but that's probably because I still have to say I'm going next year.  But in less than two months it'll be this year.  Going on the Camino was exciting but I was also scared shitless.  I am beyond excited for this trip.  The line up for our itinerary is amazing and I want to share it all now.  But I also don't want to ruin the fun of blogging about it as it happens. 

And so the ticket is bought -- it's not all just talk.


Book Reviews:  A departure from my usual reading genres, The Illegal by Lawrence Hill is the story of Keita, a marathon runner fleeing the corrupt murderous government in his fictional homeland, Zantoroland, to live and run illegally in the fictional country of Freedom State.  It seemed a very timely tale given the current situation with refugees fleeing Syria, but I'm sure any of them would be happy to trade places with Keita.  He just didn't seem to have it that rough, comparatively speaking.  Regardless, I enjoyed the book (although not nearly as much as Hill's previous novel, The Book of Negroes), especially the character of enterprising young John Falconer.  The ending, however, was so wrapped up in a feel good great big bow that I felt ripped off.

I finally got The Last Town, the final book in the Wayward Pines trilogy by Blake Crouch.  (The first two are Pines and Wayward.)  I haven't reviewed any of them as I wanted to wait until I'd finished reading the series.  The mistake I made was watching the series on TV whilst reading the first two. While generally sticking to the story line, the televised version differed somewhat -- as they all do (just don't get me started on Under the Dome) -- and things started to get confused in my poor little brain.  I'm happy I read the finale long after the show finished.  It was definitely the best of three and the ending was major kick-ass.  I love it when the ending of a book (or trilogy) surpasses my greatest expectations.

 

Persistence Pays Off

When it comes to technology I'm a luddite. But I'm also a Capricorn -- patient, resourceful, determined, perseverant, stubborn.  And if there was a way to find the photos on my iPad to link them to my blog, I was bloody gonna do it.  And I did.  So without further ado, some Seattle highlights...

Crossing the Strait of Juan de Fuca

NOT inside the original Starbucks

   

    The Original

    

       The infamous "Gum Wall"

The World's largest collection of DNA?

So there ya have it. I have conquered the Blogger photo link problems. Only one question remains...

What are the chances I'll remember it?

Check, Check, and Check

On a recent short sojourn to Seattle I had every intention to post a little something to this blog, mostly to see how it's going to work out during the Green Jar trip to the UK in the spring.  I've always parked myself at the desk top to write the blog but I'll be working off the iPad when I travel.  At this point you've realized there's an except coming...and here it is.  Except someone (who shall remain nameless, but wasn't me) left the power cord for my iPad attached to my iPod in the glove box of the car.  And the iPad was low on juice.  Now you may be thinking...'hmmm...whose iPad and whose iPod?' And you'd be right.  But the rule is -- passenger in the car contols the tunes and is ultimately responsible for bringing the damn cord.

If I had been able to post this while away, I would have told you that the reason for the trip was the kid's 21st birthday.  I would have told you that we took the Clipper, a passenger ferry, from Victoria to downtown Seattle, a crossing that takes almost 3 hours.  In order to have one full day in Seattle we took the only ferry over at 5:00 p.m. on a Wednesday and returned on the only ferry back at 8:00 a.m. on the Friday.  With luck our one full day on the Thursday turned out to be as close to perfect as weather gets in late October on the west coast. Sunny and warm.  No coat weather.  Sit on the outside patio for a cold pint weather.

Besides the aforementioned birthday, the trip served yet another purpose -- to cross a few items off the kid's bucket list.

Item #1 -- Coffee at the original Starbucks at Pike's Place Market.  We toodled down to the market about 9:00 a.m.  Enroute we passed a gazillion other Starbucks.  In the land where Starbucks was born, it has bred like rabbits.  At least one on each city block.  And let's face it, you've been to one, you've pretty much been to them all.  Except for the one on the corner by the market. It had a huge comfortable seating area and the decor was rustic, from the rough wooden pillars to the cracked cement floor to the burlap coffee bags adorning one wall.  We sat at the bar by the window, sipping our overpriced lattes, and snapped a few pics for posterity.  The original Starbucks was worth seeing after all.  Until we walked further down the street and found the original original Starbucks.  'Thought that other one was the original,' I said to the kid. 'I thought you knew where we were going,' the kid replied. 'Hey, it's not my bucket list,' I pointed out.  More coffee and photos later...  Oh, and the original Starbucks?  A tiny hole in the wall, a pick up your coffee and go kind of place. No seating.  And the decor consists mainly of cardboard boxes of product piled to the ceiling.   Item #1 -- Check.

Item #2 -- The Gum Wall.  Haven't heard of it?  Me either.  And it's not exactly as advertised. It is not a wall covered with used chewing gum.  It's damn near the whole frickin' alley.  Really.  Layer upon layer of chewed gum stuck to the walls as high as the tallest among us can reach.  Apparently it's in the top five germiest tourist attractions in the world, second only to the Blarney Stone.  I guess it only merits second place because you don't have to kiss it. Either way, it's disgusting.  Item #2 -- Check.

Item #3 -- Visit 15 countries in 2015.  Australia, Bali, England, France, Spain, Monaco, Italy, Vatican City, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Belgium, Holland.  Fourteen countries down, one to go, and flat out broke. What's a girl to do?  How about a quick trip to Seattle courtesy of Mumsy? USA = 15.  Item #3 -- Check.

Now you'd think that a couple of these things would merit a photo or two. And you'd be right.  That's why I did the dork thing, hauling out my iPad to snap a few, much to the horror of the kid, I might add.  I had my camera, I had my phone.  You know, the discrete options.  But knowing I'd be writing this on the iPad I figured it would be easier access to link the pics.  You'd think, eh? Except I can't figure out that part.  Rest assured though, when I do, you'll get to see the gum wall in all its glory.

And here's a little something I didn't know.  Apparently when your birthdate and age are the same number it's called your champagne birthday.  The kid lucked in.  She was 21 on the 21st.  And yes, we drank bubbly, a beautiful bottle I brought back from Italy two years ago and was saving for a special occasion.  Figured this one qualified.

But what about those of us who got ripped off for our champagne birthday? I mean, my birthday is on the 9th.  Pretty much anyone under the age of 16 gets screwed.  So today I got to thinking, those of us who missed out should be able to substitute our birth year.  For instance, I'm 1958. And then I got to thinking, 'Damn! I missed out by one lousy year.'

Before clueing in that I'm still only 57.  Duh.


Book Reviews:  I was so excited for our October book club selection -- The Magicians by Lev Grossman.  The first of a trilogy, I was prepared to order the next two before even cracking the cover on the first.  Won't be happening. There was nothing magical about The Magicians.  Populated by hedonistic, self involved, morose characters, the story lacked tension and was just plain boring.  And just so you know, of the members of the book club that actually managed to finish it, the majority had much the same opinion as I did.

Memory Man by David Baldacci was a perfectly acceptable quick read mystery.  As fans of the genre know, authors definitely have to take some liberties, especially when writing a police procedural.  If you take this one on, prepare to have your credulity stretched to the limit.

Another “Way"

What started out as two weeks in the UK in the spring has morphed into four and a half.  It's really going to be like two holidays in one trip.

Some background...

On the Camino, if you're lucky, if the stars are aligned, if you're open to the possibilities, you meet your people.  The ones who are meant to make the journey with you.  Oh sure, you meet lots of people, almost impossible not to. Some you might walk with for a day or a few hours, some you share a meal with, maybe even a room.  Some you can't wait to leave in the dust.  But the ones that come into your life and stay are the people you are meant to meet. I was fortunate indeed to meet eight people with whom I've kept in touch, but six of them became my crew.  Of these people four live in the UK, the other two in Denmark.  And on the Camino, age means diddly squat.  I was the only single in our group of seven.  Two were a married couple a few years older than me (hereinafter referred to as P&A), the two girls from Denmark were 18 year old cousins, and the two British lads who led us all astray every chance they got were 28.

So of course when the idea of visiting the UK was being tossed around with a friend I contacted my Camino crew.  Perhaps we could get together?  I could come over a day or two before my friends.  No sooner had the suggestion been made and P&A told me they would collect me at the airport, I would stay with them, and really, only two days?  I must stay longer.  Not wanting to impose or wear out my welcome (being the polite Canadian that I am) I put it to them.  How long did they think?  Well, that depends on what was I wanting to do?  Day tripping in their area?  Some local day hikes?  A multi day walk? Ohhhh....now that sounds interesting.  We could go for a long walk, 'cause hey, that's what we do.

Of the many available, we have chosen The Cotswold Way.  Approximately 160 km through "pretty England" commencing in Chipping Campden and ending in Bath over 7days / 8nights.  And this isn't going to be any "up before the birds on the trail in the dark slug it out to find a bed in a grimy albergue" kind of walk.  Been there, done that, got the compostela to prove it.  This is a highly civilized stroll through the English countryside with pre-booked beds in B&B's, pubs or inns waiting at the end of each day.  Oh, and they transport your luggage so all you have to carry is a day pack.  Sounds positively decadent.  Sadly the lads can't join us.  Work and all that.  So after the walk we're hoping for a weekend reunion at P&A's -- followed by several days of recovery.

And then it will be off to meet my Canadian crew for The UK - Part 2.

P.S. -- As an aside, today I learned how to make the opening quotes in my title curl the right way...alt + [

Who knew?

Book Reviews:  They came highly recommended by Stephen King so I just finished a trilogy by Carsten Stroud -- Niceville, The Homecoming, and The Reckoning.  Luckily they were all readily available from the library so I read them one right after the other.  Yeah, by the end, it was a bit much but had I spaced them out between other books I would have been hard pressed to remember what the hell was going on.  Because there was a lot going on. When I finished Niceville I wished I had made a list of the various story lines and characters.  It was hard to keep them all straight. But Stroud did a really nice job tying it all together in The Homecoming.  A nice review for those coming back to it after a while, but also a nice way for the overwhelmed reader from Book 1 to get it all straightened out.  I enjoyed these books, loved some of the characters, even the ones who did some pretty heinous things, but I can't say I would rave about them.  Sorry, Steve.