"It's when novices move toward survival, embracing the deprivations of monastic life as a personal, inner necessity, that they begin to feel truly free. They also begin to understand the depths of joy, and how little it has to do with what the world calls happiness. Like the farmer or rancher who willingly takes on economic hardship, remaining in Dakota out of love for the land, these monks can grow to a profound understanding of fast and feast. One makes sense only in terms of the other, and both may be seen in terms of play. Like country folk everywhere, monks develop an ability to party simply but well."
--Kathleen Norris: Dakota: A Spiritual Geography.
How to write on a computer when you're flat on your back (in case you ever need to know)
For this exercise, you will need:
1) Four pillows.
2) Two stacks of books that are slightly higher than the distance between your abdomen and your bottom.
3) A long, strong, flat object, such as a bookshelf.
4) A foam packing sheet.
5) A triangular foam wedge.
6) Your laptop, which needs to have a flat area for a wrist rest.
How to assemble the components:
Place two of the pillows where your head will be (or however many pillows you need) and two under where your upper arms will be.
Place the stacks of books on either side of where your hips will be.
Lie down.
Place the bookshelf on top of the books. (Yes, this is tricky to do.)
Place the foam sheet on the middle of the bookshelf, so that its edge hangs slightly over the shelf, on your side.
Place the triangular wedge so that its steepest angle faces you. There should be a small gap between its edge and the bookshelf's, where you can see the foam sheet.
Open your laptop. Place it very carefully against the triangular wedge, so that its front edge is on the foam sheet.
If you've done this correctly, then the wedge and sheet should keep the laptop from sliding forward, the computer screen should be parallel to your face, your forearms should be parallel to the keyboard, and your fingers should easily reach the keys.
If you haven't done this correctly, your laptop will try to gouge you in the stomach.
o--o--o
I have a respitory problem now, so I ended up in the emergency room again when I couldn't breathe properly, to the point of dizziness. The doctor prescribed me a brochodilator, which helps.
The breathing problem comes most often along with those darn flu-like symptoms, which come most heavily when I'm elevating my legs. In fact, I can feel the symptoms working their way down my legs, reaching my pelvis, and working their way to my neck. Since the initial symptoms appear in my torso within sixty seconds of the symptoms reaching my groin, I can now predict, quite precisely, at what point I will begin having a problem breathing.
Very, very weird, especially since, after a wave of fever, the symptoms eventually go away from my torso . . . only to return the next time I lie down and elevate my legs. I swear, it's as though my legs are storing an infection that the rest of my body can fight off. Which would unfortunately make sense if my legs were having immunity problems.
I'm trying to get ahold of the lymphedema program at a local hospital to be referred over to a doctor who can give me the test that will say for sure whether I have lymphedema. I'm hoping that he can also help me sort out my other health puzzles that may be related to my legs.
I rather doubt that my family doctor can. The following scene occurred in his examination room. To fully grasp the atmosphere of this scene, you need to realize that I was essentially upside down throughout this conversation (that being the only way to position myself on my doctor's slanting examination table, while keeping my legs elevated).
Me: "They think it's lymphedema."
Doctor: "Well, that sucks! Because there's nothing you can do for lymphedema but wear pressure stockings."
Me: "Actually, there is physical therapy for lymphedema patients."
Doctor: "Um . . ." (Disappears from room. Reappears holding fat medical book open.) "Let's see, the name of the therapy is--"
Me: "Complete decongestive therapy."
Doctor: "Um . . . yes. Now, you've already had a work-up done on you, so now you need a test called lymph--"
Me: "--oscintigraphy."
Doctor: "Um . . . well, I'm not quite sure who to send you to for this test--"
Me (flinging up hand with notebook in it): "I have names!"
My doctor is a sweetheart; he didn't murder me.
REPLIES TO LAST POST'S COMMENTS
@yasuhime12, thanks for the kind thoughts.
Lee Rowan wrote: "Have you considered acupuncture?"
*Checks the ever-helpful Lymphedema People site.* Ah, I should have guessed. Acupuncture is a controversial treatment for LE, not because it's alternative medicine, but because LE folk aren't supposed to have any sort of needles going into them, since their immune system is lowered.
Congratulations about the fibroids, thogh. Interestingly, my family doctor suggested acupuncture as a possibility back in 2001, when I having the unexplained headaches that turned out to be due to my newly arrived dry eye.
One of the treatment programs I'm considering (simply because it's the closest to my home) does consist partly of alternative medicine, albeit a kind that can pass muster with the mainstream press.
@Hippediva wrote: "I'm watching Rob practically disintegrate with diabetes in front of me and I can't do a thing about it. He can't get insurance and can't afford that kind of care."
Oh my dear, that's so awful. Is he not eligible for any government programs?
My problem is that Doug earns too much for us to qualify for Medicaid, or any State of Maryland program I've been able to locate, but we don't have any money left over each month after we've paid our bills (mortgage, utilities, food, all that necessary stuff), so we can't afford health insurance. (*Glares at Congress for dragging its feet.*)
I've been a vegetarian for twenty years. As for homeophathy . . . (*Pauses to check.*) Hmm, the approach that seems to have received the most clinical attention is taking an anti-inflammatory enzyme that derives from pineapple. I tend to prefer whole foods over extracted elements, so I think I'll ask my doctor whether he thinks it would help if I ate pineapple regularly. Thanks!
@spiralred wrote: "I'm coming to see you some time this week. Definitely."
To drag my bed all over the Mid-Atlantic? :) I'd love to see you . . . but I still have a bit of a flu - at least, I hope it's a flu, and not anything worse - I wouldn't want to pass it on to you. Can I take a raincheck till this current infection is over?
@Rose Red wrote: "Shame on USA health-care system, really."
Totally agree with you. It ought not to be this hard to find a balance between free enterprise and social support. I mean it's been done before. More than once.
"if you have to spend a lot of time in bed, you could possibly use laptop to write."
How do you think I'm writing this? :)
--Kathleen Norris: Dakota: A Spiritual Geography.
How to write on a computer when you're flat on your back (in case you ever need to know)
For this exercise, you will need:
1) Four pillows.
2) Two stacks of books that are slightly higher than the distance between your abdomen and your bottom.
3) A long, strong, flat object, such as a bookshelf.
4) A foam packing sheet.
5) A triangular foam wedge.
6) Your laptop, which needs to have a flat area for a wrist rest.
How to assemble the components:
Place two of the pillows where your head will be (or however many pillows you need) and two under where your upper arms will be.
Place the stacks of books on either side of where your hips will be.
Lie down.
Place the bookshelf on top of the books. (Yes, this is tricky to do.)
Place the foam sheet on the middle of the bookshelf, so that its edge hangs slightly over the shelf, on your side.
Place the triangular wedge so that its steepest angle faces you. There should be a small gap between its edge and the bookshelf's, where you can see the foam sheet.
Open your laptop. Place it very carefully against the triangular wedge, so that its front edge is on the foam sheet.
If you've done this correctly, then the wedge and sheet should keep the laptop from sliding forward, the computer screen should be parallel to your face, your forearms should be parallel to the keyboard, and your fingers should easily reach the keys.
If you haven't done this correctly, your laptop will try to gouge you in the stomach.
I have a respitory problem now, so I ended up in the emergency room again when I couldn't breathe properly, to the point of dizziness. The doctor prescribed me a brochodilator, which helps.
The breathing problem comes most often along with those darn flu-like symptoms, which come most heavily when I'm elevating my legs. In fact, I can feel the symptoms working their way down my legs, reaching my pelvis, and working their way to my neck. Since the initial symptoms appear in my torso within sixty seconds of the symptoms reaching my groin, I can now predict, quite precisely, at what point I will begin having a problem breathing.
Very, very weird, especially since, after a wave of fever, the symptoms eventually go away from my torso . . . only to return the next time I lie down and elevate my legs. I swear, it's as though my legs are storing an infection that the rest of my body can fight off. Which would unfortunately make sense if my legs were having immunity problems.
I'm trying to get ahold of the lymphedema program at a local hospital to be referred over to a doctor who can give me the test that will say for sure whether I have lymphedema. I'm hoping that he can also help me sort out my other health puzzles that may be related to my legs.
I rather doubt that my family doctor can. The following scene occurred in his examination room. To fully grasp the atmosphere of this scene, you need to realize that I was essentially upside down throughout this conversation (that being the only way to position myself on my doctor's slanting examination table, while keeping my legs elevated).
Me: "They think it's lymphedema."
Doctor: "Well, that sucks! Because there's nothing you can do for lymphedema but wear pressure stockings."
Me: "Actually, there is physical therapy for lymphedema patients."
Doctor: "Um . . ." (Disappears from room. Reappears holding fat medical book open.) "Let's see, the name of the therapy is--"
Me: "Complete decongestive therapy."
Doctor: "Um . . . yes. Now, you've already had a work-up done on you, so now you need a test called lymph--"
Me: "--oscintigraphy."
Doctor: "Um . . . well, I'm not quite sure who to send you to for this test--"
Me (flinging up hand with notebook in it): "I have names!"
My doctor is a sweetheart; he didn't murder me.
REPLIES TO LAST POST'S COMMENTS
@yasuhime12, thanks for the kind thoughts.
Lee Rowan wrote: "Have you considered acupuncture?"
*Checks the ever-helpful Lymphedema People site.* Ah, I should have guessed. Acupuncture is a controversial treatment for LE, not because it's alternative medicine, but because LE folk aren't supposed to have any sort of needles going into them, since their immune system is lowered.
Congratulations about the fibroids, thogh. Interestingly, my family doctor suggested acupuncture as a possibility back in 2001, when I having the unexplained headaches that turned out to be due to my newly arrived dry eye.
One of the treatment programs I'm considering (simply because it's the closest to my home) does consist partly of alternative medicine, albeit a kind that can pass muster with the mainstream press.
@Hippediva wrote: "I'm watching Rob practically disintegrate with diabetes in front of me and I can't do a thing about it. He can't get insurance and can't afford that kind of care."
Oh my dear, that's so awful. Is he not eligible for any government programs?
My problem is that Doug earns too much for us to qualify for Medicaid, or any State of Maryland program I've been able to locate, but we don't have any money left over each month after we've paid our bills (mortgage, utilities, food, all that necessary stuff), so we can't afford health insurance. (*Glares at Congress for dragging its feet.*)
I've been a vegetarian for twenty years. As for homeophathy . . . (*Pauses to check.*) Hmm, the approach that seems to have received the most clinical attention is taking an anti-inflammatory enzyme that derives from pineapple. I tend to prefer whole foods over extracted elements, so I think I'll ask my doctor whether he thinks it would help if I ate pineapple regularly. Thanks!
@spiralred wrote: "I'm coming to see you some time this week. Definitely."
To drag my bed all over the Mid-Atlantic? :) I'd love to see you . . . but I still have a bit of a flu - at least, I hope it's a flu, and not anything worse - I wouldn't want to pass it on to you. Can I take a raincheck till this current infection is over?
@Rose Red wrote: "Shame on USA health-care system, really."
Totally agree with you. It ought not to be this hard to find a balance between free enterprise and social support. I mean it's been done before. More than once.
"if you have to spend a lot of time in bed, you could possibly use laptop to write."
How do you think I'm writing this? :)
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