Author Archives: ruthek

Moving day

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Unfortunately not my apartment–I'm still looking–but this blog. This is my last post on Typepad. The blog will remain here until some time next year, but I am moving to a new studio on WordPress: https://ruthekarlin.wordpress.com/

Go there now to see the pictures I promised of my recent book creation. Change my bookmark, or subscribe, to keep reading my posts. 

Fat-old-artist, who started this blog, will be no more. I thought I was being funny when I created the name. And it was a unique identifier. I had no idea it had p o r n o graphic implications. My friends yelled at me: I wasn't fat (I was), I wasn't old (ha!). No one questioned my being an artist, but that's where I wasn't so certain. Today, after years of recovery from owning a printing shop and then teaching computer graphics programs, I feel more certain of being an artist. I'm 25 pounds thinner than when the blog began, but now I'm absolutely ancient. So I guess I should be "not-so-fat-ancient-artist." It doesn't have the same ring.

I'll look for you in my new home. Come and visit. https://ruthekarlin.wordpress.com/

And a great time was had

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This trip to New York was very special. In addition to many of my usual favorite things I spent much of the time with old friends whom I haven't seen for many years. Our first activity was a tour of the Tenement Museum. It was particularly interesting in light of our current immigration discussions. Amazing how each generation of Americans easily forgets parents or grandparents who made the extraordinary effort to get here, many of them undocumented, how they were harassed and maligned after they arrived, and how they contributed to the rich life we now embrace and would be better off with more of their values.

My friends are Israelis. We met them just as they came out of the Israeli army and came to Chicago to go to University of Illinois. They remained long enough to get a PhD, have two children and become highly contributing American citizens. Then they returned to Israel and I've seen them only a few times since, each being a special pleasure.

We went to the Met (and I went a second time), to the Japan Society, to the High Line, and to the most amazing play, War Horse. The play is done with puppets, although not what we usually think of as puppets. They are life size; each horse controlled by three people. When they come on stage you know they are puppets, no attempt is made at deception, but you believe deep inside they are real and you are (I was) overwhelmed by their presence. Everything in the play conveys the story. Nothing is extraneous. It is all immensely moving. I plan to see the movie when it comes out at the end of the month, but I'm sure it won't be the same.

I came back to Pittsburgh with a walnut bread from Eataly, tea from Kalustyan and a nasty cough. I never got to the book party on Sunday; decided not to spread the germs. I just finished the book and will have pictures next post. 

The week that was

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Raja left a comment telling me to go to New York for my spirit. Since I always listen to Raja I'm now on the Megabus heading for New York. Seriously, I've been planning the trip for awhile. One of my Israeli friends whom I haven't seen for a long time will be there and we'll spend a few days together.Last week was busy and good; I continued to feel as well as I did before I took that fall.

Monday evening, six other Osher members and I participated in an undergraduate psychology class. The kids seemed to enjoy hearing our life stories, mostly in 500 words or less, and then told us about papers they had written about elder issues. I was impressed with how varied our experiences were, but I imagine it would be true for most Osher members.

On Tuesday I attended the fourth in a series of talks on preparing for death; this one about hospice and palliative care. I'll miss this week's talk about grieving, but hopefully I've done my share and won't have another turn. The talks all emphasized the importance of talking to your family and your doctor about what you want done at the end of your life. They also recommended a guide called Five Wishes. You can download it here. I've had a healthcare advance directive and living will for many years, but I plan to supplant it with this new document. It makes much more sense to me.

My book-making group will have a holiday party on Sunday, right after I return. The highlight of the festivities is to exchange books with each other. I've been working on mine all last week. I'm not quite finished but I'll have time on Saturday afternoon. The picture of the media delivery box that seemed to be recognizable no matter how I turned it, will be on the cover of a box. Inside will be little one-sheet books with pictures of mosaics that were down the street from the box. I'm calling the box and the little books Burning Box Imager. I'll post pictures when I get home and finish the box.

 

Back to normal

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Five week and two days later I am finally feeling as well as before I fell. No fooling, it takes a long time to heal. I've been to a nurse practitioner at my primary care office and two different eye doctors. I was beginning to think I would never get back to normal, so I'm very pleased with this day. I've also been involved with a lot of financial nonsense. Just when I most needed everything to function without my intervention, it was not to be. The pharmacy department of my health insurance decided I was expired. I don't know if that meant dead, or that I was no longer covered by the policy. The hassle with the pharmacy and then the several calls with the company was annoying in the extreme. I cringe inside every time I have to call a company. That's just one example. So I cleaned up the kitchen, started a crockpot with soup, and got a haircut. Now, if those dark circles under my right eye would go away, everything would be wonderful.

Failure, of sorts

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Obviously, I can't blog every day. It doesn't work for me. This time I have an excuse: I began to really feel the effects of that fall (or possibly something else is wrong) when I wrote the last post. You know I would never wear that purple outfit, not even to bed. Finally, yesterday, I went to the doctor nurse practitioner, who ordered several blood tests and a CT scan of my head. They post results online, and I read them, but maybe I missed something. Nothing seems to show a reason for my headache and sleepiness. I'm waiting for her to call me. Maybe I missed something. She had already assured me there was nothing to be done, except what I've been doing, if it was a concussion. Why do I hesitate about going to doctors? Most of the time they don't have answers, anyway.

Here's a picture of my backyard today. It's a dismal day, but those yellow and red leaves are really cheery.

Photo

 

Election robocalls

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I am so disgusted with those calls I am ready to promise I will not vote for anyone who calls me with a recorded message. "Friends of Rich" this year's Democratic bozo running for Allegheny County Executive, called me at least six times on Sunday. I went to their website and sent an email telling them one more call and I wouldn't vote for him. They called at least twice on Monday. This evening, half an hour after the polls closed, they called again. I didn't vote for Rich. I voted straight Democratic then unchecked his name. I will do it again, I promise. I think we should all get together and promise not to vote for anyone who insults us with robocalls.

I missed yesterday

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I sat in front of the computer at least three times and couldn't think of anything to write. I'm still not doing very well. I went to a jazz concert on Saturday night, but I have nothing to report about it. Today was the fourth Osher history class about Washington, Adams, Jefferson. Today was Jefferson; lots of things I never knew. 

My black eye is almost normal looking, but part of my face is still numb. Very annoying but it seems to be getting better. Maybe tomorrow I'll have something more interesting.

What do you think of this picture?

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This is not about Andy Rooney

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but his death has raised a lot of questions for me. The obituaries say simply "serious complications after minor surgery." One story said his family requested privacy. I can understand, but this is something we should all be concerned with.

How many of us private citizens suffer from or die from serious complications after minor surgery? Hospitals don't want us to think about it.

Why is a man of 92 having minor surgery? Did he really need it if it was really minor? Did anyone stop to think about how much of his life he would lose to recovery?

This certainly touches on our healthcare systems and our attitudes toward life and death. Too bad he's not around to tell us what he thinks about it.