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07:24 - 25.07.07
Out of the Shadows
Today we finally emerge from the last Saturn retrograde shadow. 25' and four" in Leo in the first week of December, when it started. That was right on top of my natal Pluto, which opposed natal Mercury with both in a square - T-square - to my natal Saturn in Scorpio. No wonder the time since then has been so, um, challenging. Saturn demands right action, right intention and right timing altogether. Scorpio demands a deep sense of what lays well below the surface - collective unconscious, sex, death and all those fun things - transformational and alchemical processes. Hope I managed to get most of those requirements right the past eight months. The good news is Saturn takes himself off to Virgo in September. Much easier time for me anyway other than a lunar opposition. In addition, Mr Jupiter - my money planet - goes direct at 9' 56" Sagittarius the first week in August and there is a lunar eclipse in the early ( 5-6 )degrees of Pisces on August 28.

That last bit of information had me musing when I read the epilogue in the Deathly Hallows book a couple of days ago. It seems that JK Rowling used the 19 year cycle of two (usually) yearly paired solar/lunar eclipses for a timing device. That wasn't apparent until she gave the timing in that last chapter. It so happens that if one looks at the fictional birth data (no exact hour of birth was offered) of Harry Potter that solar - Leo 18' 17"-/ lunar - Pisces 3' 03" - pattern was in operation. A transitional set of factors for Harry between two oppositional pairs Aquarius/Leo and Virgo/Pisces. Hermione's birthday made her a Virgo, while Ron's made him a Pisces. Harry (and Ginny)of course being Leo. I've always been curious about the Aquarius polarity that should balance his chart off, but it hasn't become clear to me yet. As I've noted before, Jo's stories contain a lot of subtle and complex information in many disciplines - if one has the background necessary to recognise it.

I actually felt "normal" for a very short time yesterday. That is to say healthy such as I haven't felt in the past five years - ever since the allergic reaction to those antibiotics that nearly caused congestive heart failure. January 2002 that was. Hope returns in measure anyway. I headed over to the clinic for a check-up on my arm. The wounds are not entirely closed but the doctor felt that she could discharge me from care. No more dressings needed either. Yay! With the weather as hot as it has been that was just more discomfort to deal with. The doctor said she would be pleased to take me on as a regular patient if I wished.Given how difficult it is to find a family doctor in this city and given the inability I have had to be able to get in to see my current doctor that was a very comforting offer - especially after all the medical issues that kept cropping up this past 18 months. The last round of illness had me rethinking some of the renovation plans I had too. Just after that portable intravenous was inserted into my arm I found that I couldn't even open my bathroom door without assistance nor could I be certain that anything requiring strength in the hands or arms would be possible. I often had to wait until my youngest arrived home from work to get help with certain tasks. What would happen to me a few years from now when he has moved out if a similar episode occurred. With my one aunt breaking her hip and several friends also telling me about their health struggles I guess I need to factor those considerations into my plans. I guess revisiting some of the principles of occupational therapy and kinesiology might be in order, eh?

Continuing with the intravenous part of the story: After my Dad and his neighbour dropped me back home on that Friday 13th after that perfect omelette, I realised that there were voicemails awaiting me. A call from the doctor at the hospital where I had had my elbow drained. The swab that had come back from the lab indicated that the choice of antibiotic to deal with the infection was the correct choice and to proceed with it until said infection was gone. That was a psychological boost. The next message was from the one sister. It sounded as though my Dad had asked her to take me to my next clinic appointment since he and his neighbour were going to be out of town on the weekend. I just commented that I was hoping that I would be strong enough to walk there myself but asked if we could touch base on Saturday night. She lives on the other side of town and it is a very long drive you see. However on the Saturday I was still fairly impaired physically. She had asked me about a month before if I would take her to the herbalist's shop where I got the arthritis medications for my Dad, his friends and neighbours so she could shop for her extended family who suffered from same. Since it is near - where I live - I asked if she wanted to do that task at the same time so that we were each served by the other. She was good with that and arrived Sunday for our mutual chores. I had shown my Dad's neighbour the nurse, the open wound when I was at the clinic on the 13th. She felt it was still really not healing properly and the change of packing by the doctor at the clinic on Sunday didn't really reveal much change.
The antibiotics were holding the infection at bay, but it didn't seem to be gaining as much ground as it should in getting rid of the rest of the infection. In addition, at the dosage of the oral antibiotics I had to take I was unable to eat and was losing weight rapidly. Usually that would be great but my body was starting to react to the drugs with side effects that indicated I wouldn't be able to take it for much longer - maybe not long enough to defeat those germs. After the appointment while we were shopping my sister offered to take me back to the hospital to see if something else could be done - they had already suggested a course of intravenous drugs, you see.

As a result she picked me up around 6 in the am on the Tuesday to go back to the emergency department where I had been directed to report. We sat and chatted about the books her book club was reading while waiting for my turn in the clinic. I think it was about an hour or an hour and a half later that I was called in for an assessment. They told my sister she could join me in about half an hour after they had run all the tests they wanted. Different ward this time. Four beds. One woman having symptoms of heart attack, one man with kidney sotnes passing and an older lady with a walker who was busy visiting with the friend that had brought her in for care. As soon as I reached my cubicle an attendant covered me with a nice heated blanket and fetched extra pillows. I hadn't realized I felt cold and sleepy but it was exactly what I needed I guess. The lights were turned off in my corner and I was left to go back to sleep until I was seen. An interesting nurse turned up later to take my vitals. She was wearing a uniform emblazoned with the crest of a health care region one province over. I asked about it and she said on her holidays she preferred to work in different parts of the country just to see what was going on elsewhere. She stated that she liked working with the First Nations communities which explained her ability to chat with one of the other patients in his one language which I think was Tlingit. she had also done contracts as far south as Palm Springs. While doing my vitals he asked if I was always this cold and clammy. Um hadn't noticed that I was but then I had had a shower just before coming to the hospital. Next question was odd in that she asked why I was wearing such an over-sized shirt. I had put on the one denim shirt I had the was big enough and easy enough to get on and off by myself with one arm inflamed and not able to work properly. Besides it was one of the ones I had where I knew the blood would wash out if it was splashed like the last visit to the hospital. As I mentioned I had also lost some weight during the illness, so it was baggier than usual - but so what did that matter. I usually would be very happy about weight loss but now the skort I liked so much almost won't stay up anymore - I have to pull the waist up under my bust to hold it so it doesn't slip off. None of that is part of the medical profile needs. The questions about my blood pressure made more sense. I hadn't been on any medication for several months but the stress of being sick had pushed it back up. A prescription for more of my regular low dose pills was given to me, once the doctor had done his assessment. Extra benefit or not I guess. I'd rather have the chocolate if you please. My sister arrived about then, so I never got to ask about the relevance of the size clothes I wore.

I think it was close to an hour later when the doctor came by. He removed the dressing which upset my sister a bit. Having worked in a hospital the wound itself really didn't bother me because I've seen so much worse. I forgot that she didn't have any experiences of that sort and hadn't really been around sick or injured people at any time. Apparently she found it quite distressing. The colour of the flesh she said was bad. All relative our perceptions I guess. Lucky she hadn't been around the two weeks prior when it was really gross. That doctor sent me off the the infections clinic for further assessment. That wait wasn't very long at all. The nurse came and got me before my records had even been transferred and registered in their database. She interviewed me about the chronological history and then a resident came to interview me again. She asked some odd questions too. "Have you had sex in the past six to 8 weeks?" The implication seemed to be was it possible I could be pregnant without knowing it. Bite your tongue! As you know dear diary it has been 15 years since last I engaged is that recreational activity and I don't think parthenogenesis is likely to be an issue for me. I'm a bit sceptical about such things. In hindsight I guess the issue was whether to give the high-dose intravenous drugs. They would have had a devastating effect on a fetus at any stage of growth. Next up the doctor came in and asked more questions as he examined the holes in my elbow. He and the resident left to discuss their decision after he asked me what about today had made me come in to see them again. I explained the rationale I had mentioned earlier in the post but wondered why the question was being asked. Doesn't fit in a medical profile either. Of course when one is already brain-fogged by drugs it could be there are many logical reasons for what is asked but would be lost on one at the time. Throughout the next week my sister would constantly be asking me math questions and that made no sense either. I thought I was doing well remembering my name, address and phone number at that point, quite frankly. Anyway the doctor announced that I was going to be fitted with a portable IV pump to take home with me. The nursse arrived at that point and showed me how to change the IV bags and operate the pump. It didn't take all that long and we were on our way.

By then it was noon so we headed to that restaurant where that fabulous omelette had been served hoping it would be the daily special again. Not, but the soup and sandwich were very nice anyway. My siter dropped me off home and I tried very hard for the next two days not to forget about the tubing snaking out of my arm. The cats were suitably impressed but didn't once try to swipe at it. Smart cats eh? Anyway time to see my youngest off for work. Talk with you later, dear diary.

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