The Eyes Have it

Well: I  am happy to report that Joan and I had A Talk about my finding an indoor pool.  SMU's pool operations office continues not to answer the phone, which is not a good sign; and the Baylor pool is open, but they're only letting in their own members, and the membership is pricey; so that's kind of out for right now too.  However, we decided that the lackluster pool at the gym is probably fine if it's not crowded.  (Not that I'm complaining about the pool at the gym; I was swimming in a lake full of fishpoop, fergodsake, so I can handle a pool at a gym, though honestly, they could clean it more often.)  I made my way over there yesterday and got a lane to myself.  The lane is probably about seven feet wide and 25 yards long, which seemed like appropriate social distance.  I wore a mask on the way in and on the way out, and I didn't shower or use any of the other facilities.  So I think I'm okay, COVID-wise.  In the meantime, I somehow sprained my stupid knee, so I probably won't get back over there today, but maybe tomorrow during church time.  This is Texas; if you want a facility to yourself, go during church time. 

(And just incidentally, my Buddhist meditation group meets on Wednesday nights, so it's not like I'm not going to any religious gatherings at all, and by the way, it wouldn't be any of your business if I weren't, so there. Nyah.)

Another thing:  I am OUT OF SHAPE.  Yes, I know round is a shape.  I used to swim 1600-2000 meters (that's a mile to a mile and a quarter) as a matter of course, and yesterday I didn't even make it through 1200.  Well, the time I've had in the pool has been pretty limited, and though I'm sure I swam farther than that at the lake, it's impossible to measure, really.  I'm going to have to build back up to a full 1600 before my swim team starts up again, if it ever does.  I've been doing a lot more walking on the treadmill than I have swimming, which I guess builds up different muscles.  (And altogether now, let's hear it for the treadmill; when we first bought it I was wondering if we'd lost our minds, and then came the lockdown.  Really, really glad we had a treadmill during the lockdown and since.) 

 

So now for the big announcement:  I'm having cataract surgery in October.

Yes, I'm really 78 years old.  I just look really young.  😬 And I'm thrilled to bits about being treated for this, but it's either get treated or possibly not be able to drive at night anymore, and since we're down one driver to begin with, what're ya gonna do?  As it is, I have to round up a support person (who can drive) to accompany me on this crazy errand, plus come up with a rather alarming amount of money for the stuff my insurance doesn't cover (and as always, there's something).  Now, cataract surgery is No Big Deal anymore, they do it all the time and they hardly ever make misteaks make mystiques  do things wrong. Still, it's a little unsettling to have somebody carve into your eyeball, yank your lens out and replace it with a fake one.  The upside is, of course, that I won't need glasses anymore.  The downside is that I will still need glasses anyway, because they're only doing one eye; the other eye isn't due for years. 

Also, there are add-ons.  I guess there's always a luxury component to surgery?  I can get a spiffy lens called a PanOptic for an additional $4,000.00, which will correct my distance and close up vision until the end of recorded time.  (Though one article I read suggested that younger persons, which I guess means me, shouldn't opt for the PanOptic lens because it can lose focus over time.  Geez, for $4,000.00 shouldn't you expect quality eyeball part replacements?) Or, I can opt for the cheaper Toric lens for a mere $2,450.00 extra, which will cure my distance vision; I'll still need glasses for close vision.  Or I can opt to have a laser surgeon do the job, rather than a boring old human, for $1,000.00 extra. And whether I opt for any of the add-ons or not, I am going to need new glasses, because my vision will have changed; so add another $300-$500 to that price tag.  

Anyway, that's in October.  Then I need to get my hearing checked.  The way you know you need to get your hearing checked is that your wife tells you to get your hearing checked.  Amirite?  In all seriousness, I need to get my hearing checked; since everybody started wearing masks I find myself unable to tell what they're saying about half the time.  My sibling has been diagnosed with something that involves thinning of the bones of the ear, and has hearing aids now.  It's genetic, so it could be that.  Or it could be Central Auditory Process Disorder, which they told me I had when I was 26, getting lots worse over time.  That sounds like exactly the sort of thing they would lump in any hearing loss that they can't explain.  And of course nothing could be further from the truth, except what they said was, "Your hearing loss is all over the register and we can't explain that, so we think it's Central Auditory Process Disorder." Anyway, Google it.  It can't really be helped with hearing aids but maybe I've acquired something else over time that can.  

I gotta say, turning 50 has been expensive. And not just because my comfort has become worth more money, though that's true, too.  I wonder how much the COVID vaccine will cost, when it finally comes out, and how long it'll last, and whether or not insurance will cover it.  Maybe there'll be add-ons for that, too.  Maybe for an extra $1600 you can get one that was actually tested on humans.  

Winter Cometh, And That Right Early

I'm feeding a stray cat on the back porch (because of course I am).  She's a small cat with black and grey stripes and I think she may actually have a home, but she must not be getting her share of the kibble because when she comes over, she's always hungry.  I am constitutionally incapable of turning down a hungry cat, so she's getting the same food as my two, which is to say, The Good Stuff.   I call her Little Cat, because, well, she's not very big.  (And I'm not very creative about cat names.  The last stray I was feeding on the porch was called Orange Guy.) 

Grayson the Cat, who is a big boy, has been fascinated by Little Cat since she started showing up.  We open our back door in the morning, when it's cool, and there's a big security screen door between Grayson and Little Cat.  Still, he watches her very carefully when she's on the porch.  

Well, the other day, Grayson somehow managed to sneak out of the house while I was taking food out to Little Cat.  I'm still not sure how he did it.  He got away with it, though, because there's another gray cat in the neighborhood that looks shockingly like him.  So when I saw a gray cat outside with Little Cat, I thought, "Oh, it must be that grey guy."  I even watched the grey guy chase Little Cat around the yard.  It wasn't until later, when Grayson couldn't be found anywhere in the house, that I realized the grey cat outside might have been our grey guy.

So I went out back looking for Grayson.  I called, I shook a container full of treats.  I shone a flashlight around (it wasn't dark yet but it was getting that way).  I looked out front.  I looked around on the side.  And then I went back out back, where, after a few minutes, I heard somebody meowing.  I went further out and saw Grayson.

He was stuck between two fences.

At some point our neighbors, who thought this would be easier, I guess, put in another fence just outside of our fence.  So there are two fences running down our property line.  They can't be more than about six inches apart, but Grayson - who is just about six inches wide - was in between them.  The space was so narrow he couldn't even turn around, and apparently he couldn't go any further forward, either.  I went over to the fence and rather quickly figured out that if he climbed up the chain-link side, he'd be grabbable.  So I held some treats over his head to encourage him to climb.  

(Wouldn't this make a great Buddhist story?  A man gets stuck in a cave, can't go backward or forward, but suddenly realizes he can climb out if he looks a direction he never looked before?  Which just goes to show something or other?  I think it would make a great Buddhist story.)

So anyway, Grayson climbed up the fence until he was grabbable, and then I grabbed him and took him back into the house.  Mind you, I still wasn't sure I had the right grey cat.  They really do look a lot alike.  But when Artemis, our other cat, didn't immediately dive at him and try to kill him, I figured I must have the right cat.  Artemis is more territorial than Grayson, if that's possible.  And Grayson, who'd just had who knows what adventures, just stretched out on the coffee table and looked at us.  Not perturbed at all.  Also not perturbed at all was Little Cat, who showed back up the next morning for breakfast like nothing had happened.  And who knows?  Maybe nothing did.

Proof of cat.

Well, a cold front came through town, and temperatures dropped into the 70s.  Which is great when it's been in the 100s, but not so great if you've been doing all your swimming outdoors.  Which I have.  I've been swimming in a friend's pool during the week and going to Mallard Park at Lavon Lake on the weekends.  I got into the water at Mallard Park yesterday and it was noticeably colder.  Last time I got into a body of water and it was noticeably colder, it was the Pacific Ocean and the water temperature

had dropped from 70 to 55 overnight.  This wasn't that cold, but still, colder.  It's an ominous warning that winter is coming and that those of us who swim need to find a place inside, and as soon as possible.

Mallard Park. 

  

I am on a swim team, which has access to several great indoor pools around town, but we've been shut down since March.  My gym, which has reopened since Gov. Abbott (and Lou Costello) says that the coronavirus epidemic is over and everything is just peachy keen fine, has a pool, but I'm not sure how safe it is.  You know what I mean--lots of people in a small space, panting for breath, air circulating relentlessly--just because you can do it doesn't mean you should.  

By far the best choice would be the SMU pool.  I don't know if you've ever seen it, but the new indoor pool is the shining jewel in the crown of Dallas area indoor pools.  This pool is fifty meters long by fifty yards wide, there's a diving tower so you know the roof has to be thirty or forty feet above the pool, and, anyway, it's this huge indoor space.  Probably a lot safer than my gym pool.  The problem is, I don't know if it's open to people like me (nonstudent nonathletes), or even at all.  There's conflicting information on the Web and I haven't been able to get a human being on the phone. 

I mean, yes, we do have a treadmill, and yes, I make copious use of it, but it's still a treadmill and not a pool.  And swimming is one of the things that keeps me sane.  I know that sounds like an exaggeration but I promise it isn't.   

(It occurs to me I could take a class at SMU.  That might get me in the door.  Hm, so all I'll need is $2,355 per credit hour.  I'd pay it if I had it, though.)

So anyway, y'all, pray for hot temperatures in North Texas.  Or that I find a pool that's reasonably safe. Quick.  Thanks.  Cheers!