Musings

Some garbage cans stink so grossly on garbage day, I muse, as I ride my trike in the early morning before the truck comes around; and some don’t stink at all.  The ones that don’t stink have pizza boxes overflowing and other signs of fast prepackaged food. You learn a lot about your neighbors by noticing their garbage on garbage day. Since we have a compost bin and a recycling can, our garbage smells like kitty litter, dried tree branches, and weeds.

I feel sorry for people who don’t swim, I think every time I go to the pool. I don’t mean swim, swim or swim fast or good; I mean move around in the water, stretching and pulling, rolling and curling. It’s an openness and looseness that is felt in no other venue.

Today we made a new friend. She has been a fixture at the pool for as long as I can remember. Until today all she did was scowl at us. She’s likes to swim with “Mr. America” (as we secretly call him because of his amazing physique and swim prowess), who has been our advocate since day one. He admits he looks out for us and will save a lane for us while being aggressive with others. She won’t relent. When he suggests they let Eddy swim by the edge in the lane he likes, she hisses, “We were here first.” It’s like she’s our #1 enemy at the pool. Today Dr. Wall gave up his lane so we could swim together which left him and our enemy swimming in the next two lanes (Mr. America is back visiting his folks in the mid-west this week). They are competitive swimmers; they swam hard and fast today. At 1:40 when they close all by one lane for lap swimming, she moved over into our lane. We were through and got out. She smiled at us. I smiled back. “Did you have a good swim?” she questioned. Did she talk to us? “Perfect today,” I reply, “you two sure looked good.”  “We had a ball,” she admitted as she dove in. And that was our first conversation in ten years. Friends are better than enemies. They make your heart dance.

Ed says vehemently that he will not go swimming today as he reluctantly goes up and puts on his swimming suit. He’d already been over that way for a doctor appointment and he did not want to go back.  After our swim, he says, “Now to the bad part” insisting he does not want to go home where he asserted he would never leave in the first place.

In other good news, August 1, and I’m feeling very encouraged about my knee status, even though we paid too much, didn’t have professional care, with no follow-up (oxygen shots, laser, massage). When I stop and feel, I realize my knees don’t hurt (much). I’m getting more mobility. I practice going up the stairs with one foot in front of the other. Slowly. Holding on. It doesn’t hurt, even though I think it’s going to. I think I’m convinced that stem cells are as miraculous as they claim. Those undifferentiated gems are doing their job. I love this day and age and research and medical miracles.

  

Happy Brent & Amy got home from their river adventure, each taking over 2,000 pictures of full rainbows, rivers, otters, blue herons, camp sites, canoes, hieroglyphics, granaries, sheer cliffs; not to mention their own watercolors.

Brent's Outhouse at Ruby Ranch

Regenerate, Don't Operate Part II

DeRay and I are very open to new ideas. We discount nothing. Maybe it’s just DeRay. I’m more of a ‘fraidy cat. Nevertheless, when you try something new or take a risk, you sometimes get stung. Twice we’ve lost thousands of dollars to chiropractors who made big promises. One spent time in prison; the other was investigated. Even so, we never got any money back.

Fools.

We thought we finally made a wise decision with the stem cell injections. My knees were feeling so much better. After a month I got a brace on first the right and then the left knee. Irritably, the left knee brace squeaks – so loud that even I can hear it.

DeRay had talked to his sister Clare so much about it that she decided to come up from Vegas and get a stem cell injection in her hip. Exciting. She is in so much more pain than I am in. She can barely walk.

When we stopped at his sister Karen’s to get our hair cut on Tuesday, she mentioned that Norm is suffering with his knees. The next day, I sent her an e-mail (old-fashioned-me doesn’t text) telling her of a seminar that Integrated Health was holding on Thursday night. As I was searching for information on them to send to her, I ran across information on the University of Utah Hospital.

“I noticed that the University of Utah does stem cell injections,” I wrote. “I think it would be wise to check them out. They may be cheaper. They may be more professional. I wasn't smart enough to do any research after we went to the presentation. I know Integrated Health gets their live stem cells from the University of Utah. There is no reason for Norm to suffer.”

Check them out they did. On Thursday, they met with the doctors. Friday morning, he had an MRI, and Friday afternoon, the stem cell injections.  He was working with certified physicians and IT WAS $1,000 LESS. Plus he gets oxygen shots, laser treatment and massage once a week.

In spite of the success, the two complaints I had when I got mine done was that it was done by a medical assistant and they used no computer to direct the needle and the wife of  the owner with no medical training seems to be running the place. No MRI. I didn’t quite feel I was in the best hands.

I’ve always trusted the University of Utah Hospital. It’s where I’ve had all my surgeries, starting back 50 years ago when I had surgery for endometriosis (one of the first in Utah). The doctor at the U found a tumor on x-rays taken by the ENT locally who could see nothing. Our insurance didn’t cover them completely when I had thyroid cancer surgery and we still went to the Huntsman Cancer Center.  

DeRay, we missed the boat again.

Drats!

Happy for Norm and Clare. Sad for me.

Re the squeak on the knee brace,

Ed tells me:

"I sure enjoy living with a mouse."

Regenerate; Don't Operate

Experience the Miracle of Stem Cells

Stems cells are "undifferentiated" cells, 

which allow them to develop into another type of cell 

that is required to repair or replace damaged tissue.

Stem cell therapy can repair tissues

that are too damaged to heal on their own.

Stem cells can stimulate the formation of 

cartilage, tendon, ligaments, bone and fibrous connective tissues.

Stem cells are obtained from either the patients' own tissue

or a purified amniotic source.

These concentrated stem cells are then injected

into the patient's damaged tendon or joint.

Regenerative Injection Therapies are a spectrum of cutting edge therapeutic techniques
used to naturally treat and heal the cause of a painful condition
rather than masking the symptom.
RIT stimulates and accelerates your own body's natural ability to heal itself.
Artificial knees may be obsolete in ten years.

The $5,000 Band-Aid.  IMPRESSIVE.
One for each knee!

We all waste our money in different ways.

Some choose a $10,000 casket;

We chose stem cell injection for my knees.

Now I won't ever want to die;

(therefore, won't need a casket.)

Weeks 1 and 2 - Light Activity. Rest. Rest. Rest.

Weeks 3 and 4 - Maintain normal range of motion w/gentle stretching.

Weeks 5 and  6 - Avoid jarring and high impact activities.

Your stem cells are building new tissue and need oxygen/blood flow through gentle exercise but can't tolerate being stressed by too much exercise.

Weeks 7 and 8 - Continue core and strengthening exercises.

What am I going to do when I can't ride my trike

or swim for the summer?

I didn't know that when we made the appointment.

I planned to walk out of there

totally healed and free of pain.

If you are young,
they generally take platelets from your own blood
to rebuild damaged tendons or cartilage,
re-injecting these platelets into the site of the injury
to initiate healing and improvement of function.
When you are older,
they get the stem cells from

amniotic fluid and umbilical cord of babies born cesarean section.

The cells are frozen and thawed just before injection.

Therapy

My knees and shoulder are feeling a little better

After the first eight laser treatments and adjustments,

which begin on the rolling table

where it feels like a huge python

that just swallowed a live fighting tiger

is slithering under you

back and forth

until you are senseless.

Feels so good (if you can forget the python).

Then, if they remember,

Someone massages your back

With a loud vacuum cleaner.

Followed by the diabolic doctor

Pushing, crunching and twisting.

I can’t even bend my knee

And he pulls it back and jolts.

“Are you OK?”

To compensate, he pounds both

Knees with a jack hammer.

The best part.

The slightly warm laser treatment

Is recovery in dark glasses.

It’s not over.

Back you go to be electrocuted.

Tiny electrical shocks to both knees

As strong as you can tolerate.

One time I tolerated too much

And walked like a tin soldier

For awhile.

Thank you for asking.

Do you ever get the feeling

you are talking to yourself?

I do.

Surgery?

Well,

OK,

Things are not always as they seem.

I thought I would have laser treatment instead of surgery.

Evidently, that isn’t the way it works.

After looking at the x-rays, the chiropractor seriously

Doubts that the laser will do any good.

Too many problems; too far gone.

He thinks I’ll have to have at least partial knee replacements.

At least he’s honest.

We’re going to try laser and adjustments for awhile

And if there is no improvement

Guess what?

I’ll have to face reality.

Even though I don’t want to.

Things could be worse –

I could have cancer.

Oh wait.

I could have a tumor and lose my

hearing and balance on one side,
causing constant clamor in my ear.

Oh wait.
Or have an autoimmune disease,
or acid reflux or 
recurring  staph and bladder infections.
Oh wait. 
I could be obese (my doctor's words),
have high blood pressure and
very high cholesterol.
Oh wait.

Never mind. 
Afterall,
I've never had Shingles--
the Mother of all Misery.
I can see;
hear in one ear;
walk and talk.
YES!