The Hot Shoulder

It's a bit of a cliché that every time you hit a major milestone in aging, your body decides it's going to stop working in one way or another. For example, when you turn 30, it seems you get hurt when you never would have been hurt before. Then you turn 40, and nothing heals anymore. You just cut yourself peeling an orange, get sepsis and die. 

Last year, at 44, I got a little bit philosophical and talked about how I wasn't going to let things bother me and was just going to go with the flow. Take things a little bit easier and maybe enjoy life a bit. 44 was pretty good. I enjoyed being 44. But a week and a bit ago I turned 45, and this is the beginning of the end.  

The problem first started coming back from camping when I noticed that my shoulder was a little bit sore. This is nothing new. It's sort of in that same 30- to 40-year-old aging thing. You take a little bit of time doing physical labour and the next thing you know, you're a little bit sore and hurt. But that soreness was not getting better. 

So on the Tuesday, I asked Rhonda if she'd mind giving me a little bit of a back rub and help to loosen things up a little bit. She was very generous and did exactly that. The back half felt great. A good massage was starting to loosen things up. Was hoping that maybe I could enjoy the rest of my time off. 

Then she said, "Turn over. Let's get the front half." And so began (so far) over a week of agonizing pain, hospital visits and really no end in sight as far as pain and shoulder injury is concerned. 

Wednesday morning, I ended up in Urgent Care in so much pain. I could barely see. They took some X-rays, poked at it, prescribed a few medications for me and sent me on my way. That night, the pain was so extreme and so unmanageable. I found myself in the Pasqua Hospital emergency room.

No shade on the nurse practitioner who saw me at Urgent Care, but there was a lot more going on there than just a little bit of shoulder injury. The doctor at the emergency room diagnosed me with a serious form of tendonitis and took me off work for at least a week. Gave me some very strong drugs and stuck me full of needles and things to try and get things under control. 

 Why is this tube full of air?

It actually took about 8 hours for them to get the pain under control, and if I'm honest, it only lasted about 6 hours before I was back to where I was. But at least now I've got some idea of why I can barely even see straight. 

So yeah, that really is my life right now. Just constant fucking pain. Even this blog is being dictated because the idea of sitting with my shoulders up typing right now is too much to bear. I'll just be happy to dictate today's post to you. But I'm sitting in the sun, and that's kind of nice. Makes me warm. 

Holding it together with hockey tape like my ancestors did.

I'm going to say I'm really impressed and want to vigourously applaud the staff in the two emergency rooms that I interacted with, both at Urgent Care and at the emergency room at the Pasqua. They were patient, good communicators, and they were very compassionate. I got a lot of help and a lot of comfort from them. Bravo to each and every one of those men and women who helped me out. They were great people. 

But the government of Saskatchewan can go fuck itself. I'm not impressed. That wait times I now need to navigate are unacceptable. And to be sure this is painful - but it's not life threatening. God help those people who are waiting on the government to let them die. 

I was given a referral for an ultrasound so we can see what's going on and develop some kind of treatment or intervention to make this better. The very soonest that I can see a radiologist to get an ultrasound is the end of November this year. So, foreseeably, I have to wait at least 4 months to even get a test to tell me what is actually happening in my shoulder so that I can start doing the exercises and treatment I need.

I was also given a referral to a physiotherapist. It's a week later and have not heard or seen a fucking word from any of them. So here I am trying to self-diagnose and self-treat using YouTube and the internet. I hear complaints from people in the medical field about how people self-diagnose and self-treat using the internet and using YouTube, but what the fuck else am I supposed to do? Honestly, what am I supposed to do? I have no access to effective treatment. I might just start bloodletting because what other options am I being given?

And of course there's the mental health part of all of this too that I've got to contend with. I took 2 weeks off of work. One week was going to be camping and the second week was going to be getting some things done. Get someone to come quote a new door in the back, do some work on the lawn, maybe see about getting the car fixed. You know, make some plans and get shit done. A lot is falling apart in my house, and a lot of things need to be taken care of, and I had a plan to do that. Until my fucking shoulder went out on me, and now what? Just let it fall apart, I guess; let it all fall apart because I can't get timely medical help and my body won't let me take care of the places around me until I do.

It also extends to some of the fun stuff. I wanted to maybe do a little bit of recording, sit down and do some multi-track demos. I wrote a song while I was out camping that I'd like to demo out, but I'm in too much pain. I can't even focus right now. If it wasn't for voice-to-text, you wouldn't even be getting a blog this week cuz I just can't do it. 

All that to say, 45 fucking sucks. I wish I was 44 again, and I'm not looking forward to 46. Just hoping I can make it through the next few weeks.

Down in the Valley

I'm a couple of days back from a week camping at Echo Lake campground in the Qu'Appelle Valley. It's one of my favourite places in the world, and Rhonda had to tolerate me insisting we should move there for another week. 

I don't feel that way when I visit the Lumsden, Buffalo Pound or even Manitou part of the valley; it's mostly right around Qu'Appelle, which I suppose makes sense since I was born in Melville. We spent time at Crooked Lake when I was really little, and even after we'd moved away from there, we'd regularly pass through on the way to visiting Melville. Going for ice cream at the DQ still feels like a required stop when I go through town. 

Thanks to non-existent cell service at our campsite and my bonehead forgetting to throw the book I was going to read into my bag, I had a lot of time to meditate and contemplate on the trip. This isn't as disastrous as it seems on the surface. It was a stated goal of mine to get really bored that week, sort of reset the brain box and maybe find a bit of peace in my own mind. And I think I did. I certainly found myself in a few deep meditations and finding peace and rest instead of scrolling. It was very nice.  

A few times I found myself pondering what the valley would have been like for the Indigenous people before Europeans came and took hold of the land. I've heard stories that it was a gathering place and that it was also a place of refuge from severe weather. You could survive a bitter winter or scorching summer in the trees of the valley. Certainly that cool shade was welcome on some of the hotter days last week. 

There is plenty of more modern history written about the area, like the coming of the Hudson Bay, the myth of the naming of Qu'Appelle and most prominently for people who live where I do - the signing of Treaty 4. But I was curious to learn more about that pre-history time. I had some questions. 

Unfortunately, there isn't much of anything online beyond what I've already said. I mean, some of it has a bit more detail, but really what I found could be summed up in a paragraph. I'm curious if perhaps more was happening or about to happen in the valley. Famously, what we call "civilization" was first developed in the Indus Valley, and there are many other examples of civilizations forming in resource-rich valleys all over the world. 

We also know that there were a number of more advanced civilizations in the Americas prior to the arrival of the Europeans, like the Aztecs and Maya. Is it possible that the Cree would have started their own cities in the valley over the next few hundred years if left unmolested by colonialism?

I suppose there's a lot more to it than just having a nice valley and some hard-working people to make something of it. You need things like animal domestication and agriculture. I'm not sure if this area necessarily has the kind of flora and fauna to make something of that, but at the very least, we know people were finding enough to survive here; it's really only a few more steps to building more of that. While we know the bison weren't domesticated, the people in the area of what we call Buffalo Pound built infrastructure to help them harvest the animals. In looking around, I found more modern stories of the people of the valley harvesting berries and roots to sell at the market in Regina. 

So maybe. Obviously, we'll never know. But it seems to me that there was certainly the kind of bounty needed to plant the seeds of civilization, and it was a well-known place of refuge and sustenance. 

But then again, this is me looking at this through a particular lens. Is civilization and modernity really something to be proud of or contemplated? Indigenous people lived in this area for thousands of years in balance with nature. That seems like an enormous success, right up until Europeans came along and stripped away the stories, the culture and the way of life. 

Do you ever contemplate the ancient history of the places you visit? Where is your zen place in the world? I have another visit to the valley scheduled in a few weeks. I'm going to try and take some time to visit the local museums; maybe I can find a book or some other resources to learn a bit more about the valley. 

Delicious, delicious organs

Every few weeks, one of our managers or other leaders will host a learning session during our weekly department meeting. Occasionally, that means we get a guest speaker who works in communications/marketing or public relations in another organization. We've had guests from other government departments, police services and other levels of government. 

They're always really informative sessions, and it's nice to network and connect with other people in the industry. What we do in communications is as much about making connections as it is about writing words on a page. Especially in the PR/Marketing part of what we do. 

Our most recent guest was from the Saskatchewan Health Authority, and more specifically, from the team that works with the Saskatchewan Organ Registry. She talked about some of the challenges and opportunities they've had in promoting the Registry and some of the work they've done to help spread the message. 

In the opportunity column, unfortunately, many of the chances they have to spread the news about organ donation come after a tragedy or loss. For example, after the Broncos Bus crash in 2018, player Logan Boulet donated his organs. This led to a groundswell of people registering and a grassroots campaign to get the word out. Our guest has used that movement to help promote the registry in Saskatchewan and get people talking about it. 

Likewise, in life and in death, Bella Thompson (Bella Brave) and her mother, Kyla Thompson, shone a bright spotlight on organ donation and worked (and still work) with the Saskatchewan Health Authority to spread the word about organ donation. 

The most relatable part of her presentation for me was in one of the challenges - folklore and false information that prevents willing people from registering. It spoke to me because, as someone who works to communicate traffic safety, we run into this all the time. You aren't better off without a seatbelt than with one. The slowest person on the road isn't the danger - it's the fastest people. But try to convince Buddy from Radville of that. 

The other way this connected with me was that I saw I was also a victim of a misconception that was preventing me from being registered to donate. The misconception is that the red sticker on my health card and donation card in my wallet are enough. They are not, and no longer indicate consent to take my organs if I die. Honestly, I think one of the kids tried to tell me this once, and I even ignored her. If you want to donate your organs to help others in Saskatchewan, you need to be registered. Not only does it make it easier on authorities to learn that you want to donate, but what if you die without your wallet on you? I know, you sleep with your wallet, but what if you're taking a shower or someone steals your pants while you're showing off how you can do a helicopter? It also makes your consent very clear and has a feature to inform your loved ones about donating. Best not leave it to chance. 

The good news? Registering is really easy. Like, it probably takes less time than filling out that tiny donation card. And it also looks way better than that ratchet old health card you've had tumbling around since 1997. 

Just visit the Saskatchewan Organ and Tissue Donation Registry website and go through the prompts. I'm positive it took me less than 5 minutes, and that included writing Rhonda a tender message about why I was donating and encouraging her to donate as well. 

That tender message actually kinda choked me up to write. It's hard to think of putting your family through that decision at such a hard time. So it was important to be sensitive, grateful and explain my decision. 

Rhonda, a registered nurse, also registered to donate in response. Her letter was just "yep, I'm donating, thanks for the reminder". Medical people can be so callous. 

If you aren't already registered and organ donation is something you're willing to do for someone else, go do it today and encourage your friends and family to help out too. If you're like me and think that you already were because of the red dot on your health card, well, times have changed. Sask Health may never update our health cards, but you can update your donation wishes! 

If you don't want to, hey, I respect that. If you're willing to share, why not? I'm curious to learn why. My personal belief is that while I might not know exactly where my spirit will go when I die, but I know it's not taking my stuff or my body with it. I'd much rather it be useful to someone else. But maybe that doesn't jive with you. Share in the comments if you like! 

(Heat) Strokin' Out

 I've spent the last two weekends in Manitou Beach at the Manitou Beach Busking Festival as a performer. A fabulous couple of weekends, a well-run event and a great chance to catch up with some old music friends and meet some new ones. 

The first weekend was very wet, the tail end of the weeks of rain we've been seeing around these parts. I'm not being hyperbolic in saying we had rain pretty much every single day for about 4 weeks. Great for the lawn I'm trying to regrow, terrible for my tan. 

Well, the rain finally broke this weekend, and Saturday and Sunday were clear and very hot. For the most part, I handled it well on Saturday. I found shade where I needed to, took long breaks and slammed the first Gatorade I've consumed in a few years. A solid B+ performance for taking care of myself on Saturday. 

Sunday, on the other hand, I threw all caution to the wind. 

Not that it was intentional. I certainly started the day off with good behaviour and made efforts to stay cool and hydrated. But that started to slip in the afternoon. I had picked up an extra busking hour at "il Pirato", the local guitar luthier, and ended up working a second hour when the next performer didn't show up. Happy to play and even happier to make a few more bucks. But I probably should have spent that time in the shade. 

I had to leave that performance and head straight down to the beach, where I had my final performance in the direct sun - already a bit crispy from the 2 hours I'd just spent performing. 

Suffice it to say, it didn't go great. I actually got a clip of video from a friend who was there, and I would really like to just bury it.  You can hear the heat stroke in my performance. 

I drove home straight from the performance, about 2 hours, and while I was tired, I didn't think I was in any extreme distress. I suppose I should have clued in to how I ate the peach on the drive. It was like a wolf going after a toddler's arm in Moose Jaw. Got home, unpacked - all seemed relatively normal. Tired, hungry, but not in any distress. 

Nah, the distress came yesterday. It started the moment I woke up, when my whole body seized up, and I let out a cry that Rhonda could only compare to the screaming of the Nazgul. It didn't take me long to realize that things weren't good. I could barely open my eyes and could only slowly shuffle around the house. I tried to go through my morning routine, make coffee, and get lunch ready. But I soon concluded that I wasn't leaving the house. I probably shouldn't leave bed. 

And so, this is where you find me, reader. I've recovered a bit. The cherry sunburn is turning to a lovely chocolate tan. I can stand upright for a few minutes and even made the trip to the bus this morning. I've still got a pretty sore neck and shoulder from playing so much, but I'm at least mobile again today. 

I'm very glad for the break from the rain. But my God, the sun sure did a number on me!