Sunday, February 23, 2014

Feeling Kinda Scared *

I don't know how to have this conversation with anybody I know, so I might as well post it on the Internet.

Here goes:

I am starting to feel a pressure and a tightness in my chest, again, whenever I go for a walk. This has happened during the last 3 times I've headed out. I have also felt dizzy, recently. I don't know if these two symptoms are related or not. But, what it might mean is this: my replacement aortic valve is wearing out. I can't believe it has been 6 years, already, since my operation.

Clear heads will tell me that I need to go see a doctor. Perhaps I am just out of shape and living at a high altitude causes these problems. I have had a difficult time adapting to life at 7,000 feet. After over a year, I still get light-headed. I can get loopy if I skip a week of oxygen therapy.

I think back to those 9 days in the hospital, after my AVR surgery. The pain of having my chest cracked open, the 22 medications I took daily, the loneliness I felt in the hospital, the Prednisone-induced insanity.. I don't think I can do it again.

I guess I don't have to if I don't want to.

*UPDATE*

Since writing this, I have taken 3 more walks and, happily, NO CHEST TIGHTNESS. Perhaps I just am out of shape.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

At This Moment in Time

How have we all wound up in Taos? Seemingly random people, from all walks of life have been drawn to this place.

Music brings us together and as I learn more about the people from the weekly jam, I can't help but wonder why we are here.

The guitarist with the dazzling smile used to travel all over South and Central America, fishing from the beaches for his living. He became an honorary citizen, a Latino brother, bonded by the color of his skin, learning to become a temporary local. During periods of political unrest, he never felt unsafe. He and his father ran a printing business for decades, until it folded.

The woman who talks to her Reptillian alien guides moved here from Los Angeles, by way of Toronto. She spent many years teaching disaster preparedness and earthquake safety to movie studio employees. Somehow, she wound up here and became a sculptor. Her pieces used to fetch several thousand dollars. But now she plays her drums and bass guitar and studies world religions and philosophies on YouTube.

Earth mother, Lynn, was married to an academic, raised two sons and audited courses at some of the most distinguished universities in the country. One of her sons became a Grammy-nominated pop star. She met a nomad who lived by his wits, chucked it all and spent a few years off of the grid on the Mesa west of Taos, and now sells Native American drums at craft shows and online.

Our Louisiana-born songwriter was a well-paid high-tech engineer. Man, can he cook! We all drool over his pot-luck offerings. After wounding his foot, he came to Taos and now bounces from couch to couch, hoping to earn a modest living from his hand-made pipes.

Our patriarch once told me he was a "Buddhist and a nudist". Came from San Francisco and married a couple of women. At 70 years old, he is one of the biggest flirts I have ever met and he shows no signs of slowing down.

Then, there is the "accidental harpist". Hailing from Kirkland, WA, he grew up, raised a family and got sick of the climate. He built his home, way out in the middle of nowhere, by hand. He loves the solitude.

At this moment in time, we come together and breathe the same air. Except for the patriarch, we are all single and in our 50's or 60's. We used to play by the rules and enjoyed societal success, for a while. Then, something happened. We made a mistake, lost what we had or decided to leave it behind. I don't know if this is a weigh station or a permanent oasis.