MS, In Memory and Mind
The Wit and Wisdom of Tire Repair
At last bowing to the inevitable, I got myself a Mobility Scooter a few years ago. Pictures from which have appeared in these blogs. I use it, as previously explained, to follow my wife in her Cool of the Evening runs.
The left rear tire started to become noticeably flat a few weeks ago. Flattish, I should say because I would never ride on a flat tire, something only believable in a Three Stooges comedy, where one of them comments on the smoothness of the ride after all the tires are finally punctured.
OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, is defined in the DSM (Psychiatry's diagnostic manual and a very interesting Bedside Book) and is, in fact, a Real Thing. I have it, though a lesion in my left Cingulate Gyrus may have calmed it a bit. That or the Xanax. Anyhoo, my OCD had me turning to look again at the tire every twenty seconds or so as I Scooted Along behind my wife It had burned a little OCD Hole in my Soul until I looked up the Scooter Doctor on the web and arranged for Ron (the Doctor) to make a house call and look at the tire. I, of course had thought to simply re-inflate it, using the hand pump we have. I discovered that the valve stem of the tire had retracted somehow into the tire itself (!) and only a fifth or so of the original stem still extruded into the Outside. I had a sudden Flashback of the Wicked Witch of the East's foot sliding under the Gale's house in Munchkin Land, then again swore I would moderate my feta/sharp cheddar Melange prior to Bedtime. I skinned my poor hand on the pliers I had, then next day went to Ace Hardware and got a pair of Needle Nose pliers and Tried Again. No go. I called Ron and he came the next day.
After watching Ron fix the tire, a task which took him maybe fifteen minutes, I realized again what I have always known and believed from years in Emergency Medicine: have a professional Run the Show. In my practice I liked being Smilin' Jack in my relations to nurses, techs, aides and any one else but In The Code I became the Icy Commander (a la Tom Wolfe) and expected quiet competence and single-minded attention from anyone working with me. No screaming, no vitriol. Quiet Competence. From this perspective and after seeing Ron work, it was clear all my efforts had been Amateur Hour. I thought he was coming with the right Pliers. Oh,my. Ron quickly elevated the car, removed the tire, emptied it of air and took it apart. He put the stem back where it belonged, put the tire back together and on the chassis and reinflated it. He then reinflated the other tires and fixed the elevation/swivel function of the seat. He gave me a plethora of very good advice. He is a nice guy, short gray hair, with a history as an avionics technician for Sperry. Nothing like a professional. Best $75 I ever spent.
Another paved Road through the desert
Enuf for Now
It is 107* today, heading to 115* by Friday, when I cross the Mojave to Santa Clarita on Day One of three of my yearly migration to Oregon. I will end up in an extended care hotel south of PDX. More privacy, less time on center stage. BR very close. MS is tiresome but never a Bore...Should be a fun two months...
A hiatus of three months. I'd thought I'd published the latest blog but I guess I was too busy packing...It was short but complete, so I thought. Full of vim and determination to publish a blog celebrating my triumphant return to the hot-but-cooling Southwest. I opened Hubpages, found my unpublished Work. attempted to publish it so as to get on with the Triumphant Return etc and was told it didn't meet quality standards and that I should fix it. OK. Hopefully, it will work after a few more thoughts.
In the Portland area, I stayed at a long-term-stay hotel which cost about $55/day, with full kitchen and a handicapped bathrooms. This was perfect for me. Housekeeping came by once a week, everyone staying there was very well-behaved and there were many nearby shopping and noshing facilities available. The hotel itself was located cheek and jowl with a subsidiary campus of George Fox College, a Christian school with the main campus in Newberg, twenty miles or so West of Tigard. I don't think the facility is that old; it certainly doesn't look that old but is absolutely immersed in a large grove of redwoods. Douglas Fir are felt to be the climax species of the Western Oregon Forest but this isn't strictly true. As I understand it, Redwoods shared this spot with fir and Cedar. The fir was left when Redwoods and Cedar were logged off. Lone trees remained but the virgin stands were gone. As a kid, both of these trees were sold in the garden shops as 'ornamental varieties.' My brother has such an ornament in his backyard; it is well over a hundred feet high and twenty-some inches at the trunk. Unlikely to be cut down any time in the near future, this tree will grow and grow. I guess that 500 years from now, it may be quite a specimen.
In long times past, the native tribes inhabiting the lands from Oregon north included people who used cedar and redwood in building their lodges and watercraft. To obtain a plank of cedar, for example, they would climb a suitable tree some distance from the ground and slice out required pieces of wood, some mucho-very large, from the standing tree. These were big trees.
Another Hub Salvaged!
This one even had a Summary but wasn't published. I don't understand this; if anyone does, please comment and educate me.