Adventures, Challenges, and Quality of Life Decisions
As reliable as the tides, the new year of 2024 changed the page on the calendar, bringing with it some much-anticipated plans and some that were not-so-welcome.
My friend Leilani was to move to Florida in June so our bird photography outings were coming to a close. She was always the "ears" for our outings as with her acute hearing could hear and identify birds while driving slowly down a remote road with the window open.
Still, when she called and suggested a trip to Homer in early March, I thought she might be a bit barmy. Way too early, I thought. We went and saw several birds that I had never seen before (and some wonderful scenery). We call those birds “lifers,” as in first time in my life.
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| Evening grosbeak. Blown off course and rarely seen in this part of Alaska. |
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| Long-tailed duck, formerly called an Old Squaw. One of the few drakes that is prettier in its non-breeding plumage. |
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| Sea otter with starfish. |
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| Sunrise in Homer |
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| An old cabin in Ninilchik on the way to Homer. |
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| Moose |
I began my 18th season of cleaning up litter along 44 miles of the Seward highway in early May, and made it through 17 miles before I had to quit for the foreseeable future. I was plagued with those continuing back pains when I absent-mindedly tightened my abdominal muscles so I took a lot of breaks to wait for them to go away.
I’ll tell you one thing: trying to unlearn Mom’s admonition to “hold your stomach in” is almost impossible.
Leilani and I, along with two friends from Canada, had plans to fly to Nome in early June to photograph migrating birds that we never get to see in our part of the state. Plus, there were muskox all over the place, right in town.
So away to Nome we went, a place I had never been before. It was a roaring success, with several “lifers”.
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| The extraordinary Bluethroat, the prime goal of the trip to Nome. |
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| Rock ptarmigan. I've seen lots of willow ptarmigan, but this was my first rock. |
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| Long-tailed jaeger!!! |
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| American golden plover. |
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| A herd of muskox crossing the road. |
Then, with a short gap in between, I was once again picking up folks at the airport. My two cousins, Bud and Bob, came to replace three sets of exterior stairs that were rotting away after a couple decades. Bud is younger than me by five months. Bob, by five years.
Mission accomplished and now it was my turn to embark on some home maintenance projects. I had three walls of my log-sided home to refinish as the Behr Log Home finish had failed. This was not the first time, but almost an annual necessity.
Hauling around ladders and planks to jerry-rig scaffolding, hanging onto a 4-1/2 inch angle grinder with coarse sanding disks was not easy and again I found myself taking frequent rest breaks to wait for pain relief.
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| The facia needed restraining. |
Then, in August, a windfall! A completely unplanned trip to photograph the huge Coastal brown bears and puffins!
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| Digging razor clams. |
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| Horned puffins. |
By the time autumn arrived, I had to face that quality-of-life decision. That pain was interfering in everything, including holding up my camera with its heavy, long lens. Can’t have that.
I contacted the gastroenterologist I had seen a couple years before and requested an appointment, promising that I would go through with the surgery this time. Eventually, he referred me to surgeon, and I followed up on the appointment.
Of course, I moaned about how scared I was and the various reactions I’d had to meds and procedures and how I feared I might not pull through one of those reactions etc., etc.,etc. All excuses.
By the time I left his office (awed by the certificates from Duke, Yale, Cornell, and one other medical school that were displayed on his wall). I consented to the surgery.
But first two more tests were required. I’d managed to talk him out of an endoscopy. He said he would do it while I was under the anesthetic for surgery, thereby eliminating double anesthesia.
So, the worst was the barium contrast X-ray. This test had caused problems for my mother and I was not looking forward to it.
But, I went, swallowed the barium, rolled around on the X-ray table, and never did see the barium again.
By now, it was 2025. I spent the next couple months terrified of the upcoming surgery date of March 24. I also made meticulous plans, arranging a ticket for my step-daughter to fly up from Arizona to be my nanny during the operation, making hotel reservations because I had to remain in Anchorage for five days after the surgery, and stocking up with clear liquids to consume pre-and-post.
Then, it was time. I was off to do something I’d been postponing for a long, long time.
