Under the Knife

The word surgery is based on the Latin "chirugiae" meaning "hand work."

Some of the earliest known surgeries include ceasarians and istrpanations, a procedure in which a small hole is drilled into the skull. Evidence is found in prehistoric remains dating back to Neolithic times that many early surgical patients survived, if not thrived, following these early surgeries some nine thousand years ago.

Later, the Ancient Greeks decided the practice of medicine should be more specialized, with physicians treating different diseases or parts of the body, as documented by Herodotus.  And let us not forget to mention Hippocrates who stated in his oath in 400 BC that general physician must never practice surgery -- those are to be conducted by specialists.

All of this is a rather long preamble to remind those who know and inform those followers who do not that both "J" and "L" of J and L Research and Exploration have been "under the knife" as it were, within the first four months of the year, and thought this mini-milestone bore reflection. 

For Laureen, it turned out to be a fairly simply surgical procedure.  Happily, as she has had a series of major and minor procedures over time; this turned out to be one of the easy ones. But as with all surgical procedures, this one was approached prayfully, with solemnity and cautious respect.  A trusted surgeon, a well-stocked recovery home (chicken soup, crackers, comfy clothes, etc.), and all the appropriate phone calls and visitors were received.  There is absolutely nothing to ease the soul before going into the unknown like knowing one had to opportunity to hug, to say "I love you," and know that someone who cares, will be there waiting for you. With John taking off time from work to make the first several days more comfortable...the worst she had to contend with was boredom and noisy puppy dogs.

For John, this was his third surgery and he truly dodged the bullet on this one. A relatively common procedure, a simple hernia, possibly two, became three hernias and a benign tumor.  The one hernia, which had eluded detection, had all but ruptured and could not be repaired in the modern conventional method (mesh, etc) but required more serious intervention.  The surgeon spent three and half hours restoring the torn and twisted body to a semblance of health.  John's hopes of returning to work in just under two weeks vanished along with what was left of his pride upon hearing he had had a rather negative reaction to anesthesia -- apparently demanding to be freed from his hospital bed and have his clothes returned.  One never knows how drugs will affect you.  Kids, just a reminder, as Nancy Reagan said, don't do drugs -- Just say NO! 

But this was a surgery that almost didn't happen.  The cardiologist had his doubts -- and the anesthesiologist almost cancelled the surgery because of a bad stress test.  Yet, when Dr. Rivera, the surgeon, reported how lucky we were to have caught the one sneaky hernia before it completely ruptured and led to much more serious complications, the perspective changed. Such is always the way is life -- weighing risks versus benefits.

We've come away with the keen awareness that as our daughter stated, any, every surgery is serious. One simply never knows. Laureen's was expected to be more serious - luckily, it was simple.  John's was expected to be simple - it was far from it. Every sunrise, every phone call, matter. The visits, calls, cards from friends and family before and immediately after surgery meant a lot. And calling again, to be certain that patient and caregiver were both well - meant more than most of you will ever know.  And more than we hope you ever have to experience.  We thank our daughters and their boyfriends for visiting before the surgeries to make sure the house was in order and sending us off with happy thoughts. We thank our daughters, sisters, mother, for the many phone calls to make sure that both patient and caregiver were well, and for your offers to help.  Though they will probably never read this blog, John of J&L would like to offer his thanks for the support and care to a complete stranger whom he hired to do some construction projects about the abode and this man stood reassuring him that everything would be fine, not to worry about the job or the billing until John became stronger.  Obviously the bill was paid upon completion, but the kind thoughts had been placed in the open by this wonderful individual.. And a strong thanks to a part of the J&L team, Paul who is always there for both of us, especially for John on this latest adventure below the surgeon's steel.

From J & L we just want everyone to realize that health is more important than anything else on this round ball we refer to as earth since it is our health, if we keep it strong and viable, which will allow us the many opportunities in the future to complete research and began the exploration of the many marvelous things surrounding us. 

And is not that what life should be about?

Photo Hiking Palm Canyon

Borrego Springs

The day was crisp as we exited the RV, donned in our finest hiking apparel, which for today's hike, consisted of shorts, a short sleeve cotton shirt, hiking boots, hat, and the ever present Camel water pack. Whenever we photo hike (nature hike knowing one is going to indulge in photography), we carry plenty of water, high energy snacks (trail mix, jerky, etc.), emergency weather blanket (the silvery type which folds up to the size of a deck of cards), small first aid kit (again the size of deck of cards), and whatever else we feel might prepare us for any emergency might befall us depending the time of year and the nature of the terrain.

            In Borrego Springs, the morning may start as crisp and cool, but by nine a.m. near the end of March, the temperature will surely be nearing 90+ degrees Fahrenheit. Plenty of water, a comfortable wide brimmed hat and sunglasses are a must if you want to truly enjoy the path you will be taking in the desert.

            The trail started from the main campground in the State Park for about one half mile to the trail head near the group camping west of the entrance and proceeded for another 1.5 miles across a sandy rocky path well designated by the park service. The hike itself is not hard but given the rising temperature and numerous boulders a person had to traverse at various times we would register the trail as moderately easy especially when a person with physical disabilities may not be able to make it up through the narrowing canyon to the Palm Grove at the end of the trail.

            Sand turned into pebbles which turned into rock strewn ground which turned into large rocks and boulders marking the hiking path with little if any shade. By ten in the morning the temperature was nearing the low eighties and having the Camel water pack was a necessity.

            A moment divergence as we mention the number of ‘idiots’ out for the hike this particular morning. Not saying hiking this trail was idiotic but just the opposite since there is nothing like enjoying nature as we did along the Palm Canyon Grove path but it is the way people approached the journey that intrigued and confused the J & L partners.

            More than once we saw people, grown adults, walking by us with no containers of water, no hats, no sunglasses, but many had their tunes pounding through their earbuds. One obvious neophyte wearing flip-flops (which will only cause this wanna-be hiker to end up with bruised soles and aching toes). Many of these so-called hikers beginning the trail as we returned and the day began to reach its fullness of heat. One woman was dressed as if she were going to the ‘Mall’ for a shopping outing instead of a three mile hike in the middle of the desert including tight black spandex pants, baggy shirt, sweater cutely wrapped around her waist, and pumps. Quite the fashion plate but again no water, hat (probably would undo her "do"), or sunglasses. Laureen and I ended up making up a game between the two of us wagering how many people we passed on the trail who would not make it to the grove – our best guesstimate was 60%. One particular group we realized had no clue what they were doing asked us as we were on the return trip (five people huffing and puffing with no water, hats, sunglasses) how far was the palm grove from where they were standing. They had walked approximately a quarter of a mile over flat even sand and had not entered any of the switch backs covered with rocks and stones. They probably turned back as soon as we were out of sight.

            Back to the trail and the wonderful photographs we took of the rock formations, vistas of the valley floor, views of the canyon and all it had to offer two inquisitive visitors to the state park. The constant buzzing of thousands of bees swirled in the air above us as we made our way across the countryside between tall green bushes nearing the palm grove. To our excitement a small but sizable water fall greeted the traveler at the mile and a quarter mark which then introduced us to a viable stream of clean water flowing from the grove which was in the near proximity.

            Entering the palm grove at the end of the trail brought a delight of cool shaded air, first time out of the sun in over an hour, and a well deserved rest sitting upon a fallen giant of a palm tree. Listening to the running water from the springs which form the life saving creeks and waterfalls was comforting and added to the serenity of the grove.

            After a ten minute rest we headed back the way we came and made good time down the path and knew it had been a good day in the hinterlands of Borrego Springs and the Palm Canyon hike.

            We would definitely return in the future and highly recommend this nature trail for all those interested in getting up close with the natural world.

Friend of the Family

A good friend of ours passed away a short while ago from a complication of health issues but most relating to old age. Sometimes the body just wants to give up and end the long passage of time when memories of youthful legs and a strong heart are far too distant.

The friend was our dog ‘Pebbles’ who had been a mainstay of the household since 1995 when our daughters fell in love with the Golden Retriever at a Christmas parade in the city of Victorville. Pebbles had been busy leading a group of youngsters down the wide boulevard advertising the need to adopt abused and uncared for animals.

You see, Pebbles was one of those animals. A beautiful golden haired female canine with the brightest dark brown eyes, penciled black lines about her eyes like an Egyptian Pharaoh, and a majesty that made one wonder how anyone could have been cruel to her but cruel they had been and here she was prancing down the street in front of PALS. A non-profit agency which took in unwanted animals and gave them to families in want of man’s best friend ensuring they would not be harmed again.

The idea of someone intentionally harming an animal is hard to imagine but unfortunately it does happen on quite a regular basis and then it is agencies such as above which lends a helping hand bringing some sanity to these abused animals by finding them good homes.

Pebbles was such a dog! At one year old she came bounding into a family who loved animals. Into a family who understood the close bonds which a dog can bring with them and to share with the pack.

Dogs are pack animals whose only job is to protect, love, and care for those around them. Of course, stories can be read about those aberrations within the canine world of animals turned killers but that is generally caused by an indecent owner with a perverse sense of hatred.

Dogs are humans’ closest allies.

To prove this point one only needs to look at ancient burial practices. According to Darcy Moray, zoo archaeologist from the University of Tennessee at Martin, the oldest convincing case occurred "In Germany, about 14,000 years [ago]. Not only was the dog buried, it was part of a human double grave," (Archaeology, November 8, 2006). Furthermore, Moray continues, the oldest evidence of this human/canine bond in North America is between 9000 and 10,000 years old, with dog burials documented from every major land mass in the world except Antarctica.

There is no doubt dogs are close to humans being first domesticated from wolves roughly 15,000 years ago and that bond has simply grown stronger through the eons, leaving an almost inseparable bond between the two species.

Even Wikipedia – the "go-to" place for anything knowledgeable within reason: “Many scientists believe that humans adopted orphaned wolf cubs and nursed them alongside human babies.Once these early adoptees started breeding among themselves, a new generation of tame "wolf-like" domestic animals would result which would, over generations of time, become more dog-like.^”

So, is it any wonder humans and dogs get along so famously? It’s a social bond which stretches back through the ages leaving one the master and the other the ever obedient and loving friend.

"Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace." - Milan Kundera

We bade farewell to our close friend knowing she had served a faithful life to a loving family. A family who will never forget her and cherish all those memories of a young Golden Retriever bounding over snow, sand, and through the house causing all kinds of mischief to the laughter of those who loved her.

I think I will miss the mischief the most.

Pebbles on Patrol
Our Girl on Vacation in Yosemite

For more information on canines please look up Christopher Reilly’s piece on the internet: ‘Why Are Dogs Man’s Best Friend? 14,000 Years of Companionship.’

We Miss You, Too, Little Fluffy One!