Shoulder Surgery, One Year Later

I think it was around 7/25/2009 that I had a Mumford decompression of my right shoulder.  I went back to work three days later, and in general made a very good recovery.  Over the next ten weeks, I attended weekly physical therapy sessions and learned a lot about movement and stretching, all to keep my shoulder in good shape as it healed.  The muscles had been pulled apart during surgery for the insertion of the instruments, and that left me with weird feelings.  I also had a radial nerve block which created a bit of havoc later on.  I also paid attention to my posture as I knit or did other things.

A year later, my diligence has slackened, and a few kinks appear, but the fact is, the surgery was worth it, but successful recovery is often in the hands of skilled surgeon, and in the determination of the patient to get well.  When I get back into my exercises and posture, I am doing great!

Disruptions and Adaptations

My brother moved in with us about a month ago.  The reasons why are unimportant here, but what is important is finding ways to adapt to the disruptions in the daily life of Josh and me.  Our privacy is definitely less, and while my brother makes a very small footprint, there is still the fact of another person living in our house.  This means doors normally opened all the time are now closed.  Conversations are carried on more discreetly if necessary.  My studio now has someone sleeping in it, so reading the news online at 5:30 a.m. is out of the question unless I boot up the antique notebook.  Josh telecommutes, so this means that his office cannot have someone living in it, especially if he needs to start work in the wee hours of the morning.

For me, morning hours before getting ready for work are my time.  Coffee, news.  Now, it is coffee . . . and??  Knitting, reading.  No email.  No news.  We don’t have television, but I would not want to listen to it in the first place because it would be noise. Maybe I should take a walk, but that would mean getting dressed.  Just the silence of the morning is wonderful, and in the summer, the birds and squirrels are delightful companions – except for the past several days, the morning is a thick, dripping fog!

Knitting is happening, but I haven’t gotten into painting at all for the last month.  I think I will begin to do it again – now that we are all adjusting to one another.  There just has to be a sense of comfort to paint – it takes time, introspection, thought.  Knitting can be more automatic and less contemplative.  The three of us have our moments, and it is not always easy or pleasant, but I think we are all working toward a common goal of peaceful co-existence.

Bees

The drone of bees in fields, woods, and the garden is part of summer.

The bee population is in decline.  Killer bees are breeding with honey bees.  Bees are valuable insects in so many ways, and without them, what will happen to our plant populations of flowers or fruit or crops?  Bees are in dire need of our help – as are bats – and maybe we have found something that may be a clue?

This article from CNN is quite interesting:

London, England (CNN) — A new study has suggested that cell phone radiation may be contributing to declines in bee populations in some areas of the world.

Bee populations dropped 17 percent in the UK last year, according to the British Bee Association, and nearly 30 percent in the United States says the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

Parasitic mites called varroa, agricultural pesticides and the effects of climate change have all been implicated in what has been dubbed “colony collapse disorder” (CCD).

But researchers in India believe cell phones could also be to blame for some of the losses.

In a study at Panjab University in Chandigarh, northern India, researchers fitted cell phones to a hive and powered them up for two fifteen-minute periods each day.

After three months, they found the bees stopped producing honey, egg production by the queen bee halved, and the size of the hive dramatically reduced.

It’s not just the honey that will be lost if populations plummet further. Bees are estimated to pollinate 90 commercial crops worldwide. Their economic value in the UK is estimated to be $290 million per year and around $12 billion in the U.S.

Andrew Goldsworthy, a biologist from the UK’s Imperial College, London, has studied the biological effects of electromagnetic fields. He thinks it’s possible bees could be affected by cell phone radiation.

The reason, Goldsworthy says, could hinge on a pigment in bees called cryptochrome.

“Animals, including insects, use cryptochrome for navigation,” Goldsworthy told CNN.

“They use it to sense the direction of the earth’s magnetic field and their ability to do this is compromised by radiation from [cell] phones and their base stations. So basically bees do not find their way back to the hive.”

Goldsworthy has written to the UK communications regulator OFCOM suggesting a change of phone frequencies would stop the bees being confused.

“It’s possible to modify the signal coming from the [cell] phones and the base station in such a way that it doesn’t produce the frequencies that disturb the cryptochrome molecules,” Goldsworthy said.

“So they could do this without the signal losing its ability to transmit information.”

But the UK’s Mobile Operators Association — which represents the UK’s five mobile network operators — told CNN: “Research scientists have already considered possible factors involved in CCD and have identified the areas for research into the causes of CCD which do not include exposure to radio waves.”

Norman Carreck, Scientific director of the International Bee research Association at the UK’s University of Sussex says it’s still not clear how much radio waves affect bees.

“We know they are sensitive to magnetic fields. What we don’t know is what use they actually make of them. And no one has yet demonstrated that honey bees use the earth’s magnetic field when navigating,” Carreck said.

In celebration of the bee, Valerie Littlewood has recently had an exhibit in London; she writes about bees extensively at Pencil and Leaf.  Her work is beautiful and detailed; her writing quite fascinating.  She has numerous bee-related links, as well as incredible illustrations.

A world without bees?  Hard to imagine.

A Fleeting Moment

Happiness is not something that I feel often, not the kind of deep happiness that settles over one and brings a sense of profound contentment and well-being.  For the past hour or so I have been intensely aware of this.  It started to descend, for all silly reasons, toward the end of my rebuilding my computer – knowing that a job is near the end.  From this, extrapolations into just the pleasures of doing, seeing, living.  Right now, my life is incredibly simple.  I have a week off, and the weather is gorgeous – warm and sunny with a gentle breeze moving through the hills.  Birds are singing.  Josh’s birthday is Friday, and there are nectarines ripening on the countertop for his birthday pie.  I’m listening to a novel that is entertaining and frightening because of the historical period in which it occurs, the main character is interesting.  I’m finishing up a second baby sweater for a friend expecting twin grandsons in a few days or weeks.  In my little corner of the world there is peace.

Sword & Brush

As an essentially Irish setter in personality, I cannot seem to settle on one thing or another with any sense of devotion. I’m always off, following another scent. Already, having cleaned up my UFO pile, I have another pile beginning – socks, husband sweater, baby sweaters, hat ideas. Then the desire for a paint brush takes over, and everything gets set aside. Right now, I have a brother living with me who has taken over the studio a bit, so my life is skewing into other directions as a result. My spinning wheel has come out, and some fleece and silk to keep it company. I also keep looking at the different WordPress blog themes, and try them on, like shoes. Some fit, some don’t.

So what does the video above have to do with internal / external chaos? It is quite simple: an appreciation for focus. Problem is, mine keeps shifting . . .