Survival Mode

November 6

I visited the spine doctor today and he proclaimed my back injury “clinically healed”. I suppose that is the best a doctor can do, but that was enough for me to feel very good and again give thanks that the injury was not more severe or debilitating. Next up: wean myself from the brace and get started with some PT. How I look forward to stretching, bending and twisting the old back again!

While wearing my harness over the past 6 weeks, I often reflected on my initial reaction when my incident with the tree occurred. There was no time to be rational and work out a response. Instinct took over. It was not until I had crawled out of the tractor and was standing, bent over with my hands on my knees and breathing deeply, that my rational self returned and began taking stock of the trauma which had just occurred.

I remember a time many years ago, back in the days I was working on rigs, on the Glomar V drillship in the Black Sea in this particular recollection. We had just completed pulling anchors and preparing to move to a new location. It was getting dark and the captain had turned off the deck lights as we were just getting underway. Normally, the crane did not operate when the drillship was moving, but the seas were calm enough and I watched from the rig floor as the crane operator shifted some pipe and prepared to swing the crane to its cradle. I noticed that one of the pipe hooks had become caught in a deck plate. I hollered at the crane operator to cease operations but there was no way he could hear me and I watched as the pipe sling tautened like a piano wire. Suddenly the pipe hook came loose and shot from pipe deck towards the rig floor where I was standing with a couple roughnecks. The pipe hook slammed into the head of the rig hand next to me. I can still vividly recall as I watched him thrown back about ten feet into the front of the drawworks. Oddly enough, I was concerned about his hard hat, which went clanging across the drill floor. I did not know if he was alive or dead. Several of us bent over him and asked if he was okay.

As I slowly came to, I realized it was me that had been hit and me that they were asking about. It was my hard hat that had gone flying. Later, as I smoked a cigarette and thanked God that the blunt end of the pipe hook had hit me under my left eye and not the pointed end, I thought about the out-of-body experience. Watching the incident happening to another person was instinctual survival mode.

Back in those days there was no medic on board and no clinic to fly me to. I took the rest of the night off and went back to work next morning. My driller gave me light duty for a few days. My swollen face and black eye lasted a couple weeks and it took years before I regained feeling in my cheek and temple.

November 7

I celebrated my good medical news with a long walk that takes me to the Houston Museum District, around Herman Park and along Rice University. That evening we met Becky and Jeff who are in town from Ventura babysitting their two granddaughters Phoebe and Violet. The young ladies had been insisting on a pizza so we met at Star Pizza. My suggestion of steaks and beer at our local brewery was quickly but politely rejected.

November 8

I went for a much shorter walk this morning, straight to Agnes Café. I arrived a bit early and sat at a table on the patio. Presently, the manager unlocked the door and came up to me, asking if I would like a flat white and a toasted croissant, my usual. “Just the flat white today”, I replied, happy to be recognized as a regular and attended to so quickly. Later, as I went to the counter to pay for the coffee, she waved me off with a smile that said “this one is on us!” This little incident left me feeling very pleased and optimistic that there are some wonderful people in this world. It does not take much to spread a little joy.

Later, Paula and I drove up to the wranch. The beams and truss discussed in the last post were in place and secured.

The electricians will be busy finishing up their work this week and the exterior painting and porch ceiling should be completed about the same time. We will then be ready for spray foam insulation. After that milestone, all the interior work — drywall, painting, plumbing, electrical fixtures, cabinets and countertops, and so on — begins.

For your enjoyment, here is a little ditty I wrote the other day after a discussion of what material, like cotton or hemp or bamboo, was best for a good sleep:

If you don’t sleep well at night, 
Changing sheets is nonsense!
The root cause of your plight 
Is you have a guilty conscience. 

Good night and sleep tight!