Revised Pain Chart

A dear friend has and will be experiencing pain that well meaning caregivers will want her to quantify. As pain is entirely subjective, she has already received (TWICE !) "surprised" responses (too high; too low) to her best guess at her current level. Does this remind anyone of a bear related children's story?

To be of "help" as is my wont, I found a set of 10 faces corresponding to a hierarchy of some sort of distress. I used this to tailor one for her and her perceived pain experience.

I was successful in giving her a giggle. I hope she takes it with her to future "pain experienced trick exams" as her otherwise compassionate and capable caregivers provide more care.

Pain Chart for the Modern Age

As could be anticipated by any ALERT READER (see note 1 below) of my blog, I am already working on one I can use in therapy (the head shrinking kind). This scale will be a measure of my current relationship with my cave (see note 3 below).

Note 1
Dave Barry had a column in the Miami Herald in which he frequently waxed humorous on some news article submitted by an ALERT READER. When I did an internet search to see when he last posted I discovered that he likely never stopped. Silly me: when he disappeared from occasional publication in the Register Guard (back when it was an ACTUAL local with actual reporters and such) I assumed he had moved on to hilarious book production. He has produced many such, but apparently HE can walk and chew gum simultaneously. I can now get this column by subscription.

Note 2 (which grew out of Note 1)
Has anyone else noticed that the miracle of internet content streaming has led to a balkanization of content resulting in the forced choice of a) no longer having access to that which is desired or b) paying another ransom? Well I sure have, and I miss the prior state of nearly everything I desired available under option: "of course it is included in what your are already paying for."

Note 3
My cave is both corporeal (a beautifully spare, comfortable home) and spiritual (assuming I have such a dimension). It is a critical tool first acquired in childhood, refined and solidified beyond reason, and employed when I am overwhelmed by everyday human  existence. Primarily it is due to the over AND mis use of said tool that I need head shrinking.

The wit and wisdom of Lindsey Graham

Who knew this guy was so slyly and dryly humorous? He should have a late night show of his own. Here is what tipped me off:

(From Slate article by William Saletan)

"Lindsey Graham, the Republican senator from South Carolina, has a theory about President Donald Trump. The president is a “narcissist,” not a racist, Graham told reporters on Wednesday. A racist hates everyone of a certain color or ethnicity, said Graham. A narcissist, on the other hand, makes exceptions for those who flatter or support him."

That odd analysis certainly does make F**king Moron seem more lovable (in the way that discovering poisonous jelly fish are devoted parents makes them a good pet option where dogs and cats are banned).

Seriously, I had me a private, cold sober (no THC on board) spontaneous guffaw at 5 am this morning. Something that rarely happens when I logon to Slate to get informed of the latest affronts to sanity and decency that the national news now dependable delivers.

Friendship

My history with friendships is narrow, but perhaps deep. I expect to do some depth plumbing soon. First, a little about friendship in my "youth". I put that in quotes as I was a first born to a very neurotic mother and I acquired a sister at 1.5 years, and a brother at 2.5 years. Apparently, from what Mom told me and my current understanding of my formative years, I did not fully inhabit all the standard developmental stages. For sure, I skipped the rebellious teen stage. My sister had such a lock on that shtick that I tried to balance it with compliant self reliance and pseudo maturity. Actually, to be fair, according to some very fine shrinking, I chose that path while still in a crib.

However, I managed one very close friendship in high school: Mary Ann, who I can now see was quite unlike me. In fact, I think that might be the theme of my friendship history: "you, Mary, are a neurotic and uptight little quasi adult and you need to hang with someone more fun than you."

I barely survived high school (emotionally) as it was stocked with high school aged people with whom I felt little (and wanted NO) identification. Mary Ann was my port in that storm. Sadly, we lost our connection when I left Oregon for CSU (like OSU) and she stayed in Portland and went to Reed.  Our choices could not have been less similar. We both married before graduation (though I think she finished, as did I), and we both chose a man who would later need to be divorced. She married an alcoholic (THAT is why she was drawn to me!) and I married a very damaged man who suffered from depression (expressed in anger outward), while my lifelong depression expressed in anger twisted into something just as difficult to live with. The divorce gave us both a chance to get happier.

My friendships in college were similar (few and close) but none survived the inevitable parting of the ways. Themes I have discerned: I am drawn to smart, witty, irreverent, fellow misfits. (If you happen to be one of my friends, please do not be alarmed. You are likely just pretending to be a misfit in order to meet my need for you to seem like one.) Also, it is apparently possible (if not required) that my friends be VERY unlike me temperamentally. I know you must be different in two key ways: you must have a greater desire to be in the world than I, and you must be able to survive my minimalistic tendencies, especially as regards how much time I can be with others. I see myself as an outwardly jolly nihilist who cares about others, but mostly at arm's length. I do care deeply, but being consistently emotionally available is an Olympics level feat for me.

And attracted to opposites

So, dear friend who is still reading this: know that I dearly WANT to be a solid touchstone, a ready ear, a port in the storm, and USEFUL. However, I am me, so please bear that in mind.

Now, an uplifting video:https://www.theweathernetwork.com/us/videos/gallery/massive-pod-of-dolphins-race-boat-along-california-coast-wow/4108330236001/6059961641001/most_popular 

Also a fun photo to "bear in mind".

Treachery abounds

Content Warning: topics today concern two of my current nemeses

First, most serious nemesis: GRAVITY (lifelong and ramping up)

In a gay mood I headed out for a pleasant bike ride around 7:30 am. It was cool, a little overcast, I was breakfasted, sun screened on the minuscule unclothed regions, and wearing my new long-sleeved, high neck Coolibar shirt which fits like a short sheath dress.
https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JH14MVX/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o05_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

I had a lovely hour on the bike path toward town and around quiet streets in the Whit. Waiting for a pedestrian walk sign to recross River Road (my days of dare-devilishness, which never existed are so over) when while straddling my stationary bike trying to perfect the pedal position, I fell over on the sidewalk, banging my left elbow. I could tell it was not serious, but I took a moment for all the witnesses to drive on before further amusing them with my getting up routine. A sweet young mother with a tyke in a jogging pram crossed from the adjacent corner to see if I was OK. By all non-ego measures I was (but I suspect my new Coolibar shirt was christened with my blood). It was.  So, at the next ped-xing light I WALKED across and down a block to my home street. Where I bravely got back on the treacherous gravity-allied bike and rode home.

As it was all of 64 degrees by that time, I was all sweaty, and a bit bloodied. I rinsed blood as needed and put my shirt, bra and bike gloves to soak in cold water.  After I finish this blog, I will ice my elbow, which is not hurting, but surely will at some point.

Thanks to Bob Thaves

Second, and semi-serious nemesis: KALE 

A good friend who has gone to the dark side smoothy-wise (where my trainer and perhaps other loved ones are already residing) and is "enjoying" veggie infused and fruit improved smoothies. I wish her well. She suggested that I might wish to delay this rant until I have actually tasted one. But that would critically impair my freedom of uninformed expression. (Also deprive me of a silly rant.) As you can see from the entirely unaltered comic I am not alone in this opinion.