Calm and Cool

Beauty of a red rose after a rain
regal contrast to grey skies and evergreen bush
nods ‘good evening’ as I pass.

Raindrops, welcome and cool, 
believing in their own beauty, 
bring respite and calm to the air.

Walking in the cool air ~
rain hovers in a limbo of cloud
as newly washed air greets me.

“Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic

Changes

I want you to go back - way back….well not that far!!!
Only about 50 years or so.
The room is in an aging hospital.
Four beds in each room
Quiet and dark
Nurse in starched white uniform and blackbanded cap enters from the hallway where stretchers and orderlies and interns pass back and forth, nurses pushing silver carts loaded with supplies for mid morning linen changes. Our nurse brings with her a basin of hot water, towels and blue hospital pyjamas.
Her task? ~ A post-operative bed bath for an elderly gentleman who has come from having a cataract removed after she has taken his temperature with a glass thermometer and taken his blood pressure with the portable Blood Pressure apparatus tucked under her arm.

‘Before we get started do you need the bedpan? No? Well let me know if you do and I can get it for you.’

Before our nurse started, she checks the eye patch covered by a thin aluminum shield and secured with adhesive tape to his right eye.  Then she checked the small towel over his forehead, and the sandbags beside each temple to make sure his head was secured. Our nurse went to the end of the bed and cranked up the head of the bed another half inch to keep her patient’s head elevated.

All her checks and the bedbath complete, our nurse excuses herself, saying to her patient ‘I’ll be back to feed you your lunch in about an hour.  If you need anything before then, just pull the call light ~ and don’t get out of bed or move your head.

As she walked away with her colleagues down the stairs to take their break, she shook her head. 'That pureed food they give our patients is terrible but, they can’t even chew heavily in these first couple of weeks.  But the eye is so very fragile when it’s been operated on, we have to do what ever we can to help it heal!’

Now…….fast forward through time……

The room is in a hospital - not really that old.
Six reclining chairs in a large softly lit, but bright, room.
Stationed at each chair, is a tall digital Blood Pressure machine that registers heart rate as well.
Soft guitar music emanates from small wall speakers.
Nurse in green OR scrubs escorts her patient to one of the chairs. Other nurses and aides guide and care for others also awaiting cataract surgery. All are dressed in comfortable street clothes.
Eye drops freeze the eye, the area around the eye is washed. The nurse points out where the bathroom is and offers an escort if it’s needed.
In a few minutes, the nurse returns to cover her patient’s hair with a blue gauze cap.

A young medical student arrives and introduces herself, escorts the patient to the small operating theater and helps her to get comfortable on the gurney.

Within minutes, her eye is prepped and isolated with a sterile, translucent field. Soon, bright lights and kaleidoscope like images flash and move across her visual field. Thankfully, she knew she believed in this surgeon. Then the plastic translucent field is removed, the patient helped to sit up and a clear plastic shield is secured over her eye with paper tape. ‘You can remove the shield when you get home and only replace it at night before you go to bed. I’ll see you this afternoon at 3pm in my office.’ Escorted out to the room she had come from only minutes before, she sat with another nurse.

“Would you like a glass of water - or would you rather have juice? I just have a couple of instructions for you - no lifting weights heavier that 10 - 15 lbs, no showers - only baths - for three weeks and make sure you take your drops as the doctor has ordered.”

Walking out in the sunshine with the friend who drove her to the hospital, they decided on a popular restaurant for breakfast and a good cup of coffee. 

“Change, like healing, takes time.”

~ Veronica Roth, Allegiant

Flipping Coins

Today I functioned as a nurse.
Tomorrow the coin will be flipped.

No longer can I just believe in me.
Belief will be passed to a physician’s fine skills.

My eyes have grown cloudy with cataract,
only the right one to be cleared tomorrow.

In weeks three or four, the left eye takes a turn
to complete cloudy corneal removal.

Routines of pool exercise and downward yoga poses
will shift while knitting and healing occurs.

Belief and confidence passed to physician and nurses,
belief in my changeability to accept their ministrations.

Today I functioned as a nurse.
Tomorrow the coin will be flipped.

“Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes which see reality.”

~ Nikos Kazantzakis

Float like a Buzzing Bee

A tiny motion caught my eye

Black and yellow flits flower to flower

My camera (only cell phone!), not in vain, followed up and down and all around.

Pink flowers offered themselves openly

on long supple stems bending over the fence

gracefully waving in wandering breezes

Bees and flowers coupled together on a summer day ~

belief in the power of bees to save the world

seems so odd when I see this buzzing bee on a single flower.

“For bees, the flower is the fountain of life;
For flowers, the bee is the messenger of love.”
 ~ Kahlil Gibran, poet

Book Review - The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: Discovering a Forgotten Passion in a Paris Atelier by Thad Carhart

A delightful book! I took a trip into a Paris neighbourhood and learned more about pianos ~ and piano lessons ~ than that they are just big pieces of furniture to practice piano lessons on. That is what my pianos have been for me. After reading this lovely tale, I am aware that they also have been much more.Thad Carhart shared with us his story about coming across this obscure little shop, his love of music and his love of piano weaving the details expertly into this real life story. 

When I began reading this small book, I did not really know it was non-fiction, but when a book is suggested and offered, I will read it because I like to read stories of all kinds. I believe in story and I believe in the music of pianos. Beginning with the title, The Piano Shop on the Left Bank, lovely black and white keys on the cover beneath, I kept interested and intrigued. It wasn’t until further on in the book when the narrator spoke of a character with the same name as the author that the light was turned up brightly revealing that this book was a beautiful creation of non-fiction. Thad Carhart led us bit by bit into the back room, the atelier, where used pianos were brought, dissembled and transformed into the beautiful musical instruments they had once been. Grand pianos, short pianos, tall pianos, antique pianos ~ even a piano said to be at least played by Beethoven. Thad Carhart took us into the atelier when Luc, the owner, invited him into his sanctuary. There he learned what types of woods are the best to use for the cabinet, that all pianos have a slightly different tone and feel, and the reason behind specific design - and that pianos seem to choose their owners.

“I wanted to love this piano. I wanted to invite music back into my life.”

~ Thad Carhart, The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: 

Discovering a Forgotten Passion in a Paris Atelier

Minor Details

I noticed something curious today. No, not the hazy sky - not quite as smokey today, but still enough to dry my throat. It was signs. Signs that are seen in most cities. As is usual we are admonished by signs to usually ‘don’t do’ something.

In relation to the concerns that many have about people throwing cigarette butts carelessly out a window or casually when walking from here to there, I thought about two specific sorts of signs ~ the ‘pick up your dog’s poop’ sign and the ‘no smoking' signs.

The ‘pick up your dog’s poop' signs, worded much more delicately than that are usually positioned near a garbage or in the case of the lovely one at Shoal Point, even have their own little garbage bin.  Not only that there are little metal boxes holding plastic bags in case you’ve accidentally forgotten your own plastic doggy doo-doo bag. Shame to the dog owner that ignores the citizenry with such a foul smelling and really gross mess.

The ‘no smoking’ signs, a burning cigarette with a red slash across are positioned where cars are parked or at a park sidewalk entrance. There are no receptacles below them to ‘butt out’ before stepping into dry grass. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

I do believe, quite honestly, that preventing even a small fire let alone a forest fire is rather important.  Just ask the citizens of Barriere, B.C. in 2003 who lost their homes because of a cigarette butt tossed away. I also believe that stripping our earthly home of houses, barns, sheds, trees, vegetation, health, lives and livelihoods take precedence over offending our olfactory sensibilities (and the soles of our shoes).  

Do I see any problems that could come of such little receptacles? Yes, especially for those that search for cigarette butts to smoke.  (You don’t see anyone pawing through garbage for little bags of poop.)

But the damage done to lives impacted by fire, whether a devastating urban fire or a forest fire is far more than just a problem.

“When something is important enough, 

you do it even if the odds are not in your favor.”

~ Elon Musk

Minor Inconvenience

In the past week, the skies here have been clear and sunny, despite extremely dry, forest wildfires reported in news items from mainland B.C. and from Saskatchewan. I recalled being in Kelowna in 2003 when homes were lost, smoke hung heavy in the air and ash dropped on the fruit stand where I worked the summer before coming to Victoria. This year fires are being fought in the Joe Rich area of Kelowna. While the threat is dangerous, it has been reported that it is not as devastating as the 2003 fire. Family there have not been affected at this writing. In Saskatchewan, family in the south of the province is affected by heavy smoke from the devastating fires in the north, with temporary ease from a light rain.

This morning, a heron flew over outside my patio doors. Then, these young two herons alit atop a tree across the street.  Unusual, because the heron nests are over in park in the much taller trees. The morning sky was a grey blanket and the colour, even now while I write, was yellow. Walking downtown this afternoon, the sun was merely a red ball. Breathing the air initially only felt dry but as the day has progressed the smell of smoke accompanied the dryness. 

Breathing much heavier smoke, losing their homes, evacuated to safer places ~ far too many people (one is too many) are losing more than just a pretty day.

Belief in the dedication and bravery of the fire fighters is couched in immense gratitude from this writer. My hope is that all will be safe and have all the supplies and water they need for doing this dangerous work, and that very soon all will return home.

“Nothing is so firmly believed as that which we least know.”

~ Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays