Update And Circumstance

 Update:  Another not great day.  My sister received a call at around 0630. They thought my father had a seizure - a nurse thought she caught the tail end of it but was not sure.  He had a second one later in the day, observed by a doctor and nurse.  He is now on antibiotics to help with potential infection from any infection (apparently this can happen when liquid from the stomach or food gets into the lungs).  He has been moved into the ICU.

They attempted the Lumbar Penetration but he would not co-operate (like an epidural injection, the patient must remain completely still).  They will try again tomorrow but they needed our permission to sedate him - which, of course, we readily gave.  The doctor hopes that it will tell them something - it sounds like he is just as confused as we are.  He will consult with another colleague.  He remains unresponsive or asleep, but this may be caused by 1) his condition; 2) the after effects of the seizure; or 3) the anti-seizure medication, which has drowsiness as a side effect.

I talked with The Ravishing Mrs. TB today.  I was intending to go home in about a week and half, but will stay here as long as it takes until things are settled out, one way or the other.

Also as a note, I have now started compiling these series of writings into a separate page, Moving TB The Elder and Mom, as a way segregating and filing what has come to be an ongoing exercise.

Circumstance

By way of introduction on this meditation, if you are at all follower of this blog for more than a year, you will  recall that approximately one year ago, I underwent an inadvertent and unplanned job transition (called A Sort of Hammerfall) in which I was transferred from the career field I had spent the last 18 years in to a completely new one (Project Management), with the resulting loss of job title and reporting structure (I went from a "manager of people" to "the managed").  

It was initially a shock, of course, something I had not ever planned on.  And through the intervening months to June, I negotiated the "Work At Home" order in March, the hiring of my replacement in June, and then the complete change in how work "worked" for me in July.

Now, I am looking through things with a different lens.

Without Hammerfall, I would not have been in a position to work from home as I am now.  Without changing my position, I would not have been able to work remotely - The Ranch remote - one week a month.  Without working remotely, I would not been here  over the last six months to spend time with my parents or even now when I needed to be for an extended period of time. Without working remotely and being able to come, I would not have been here now but somewhere buried in ice and snow trying to make my way here.

Without The Plague, I would not have been ordered to work from home nor have the freedom to come here.  Without The Plague, I would be in Japan (or just coming back) instead of here to help.

That is a lot of circumstances arising from a single event that took place a year ago.  Almost as if there was a Hand at work, knowing what was coming in the future.

I am trying to have a wider view of things as a result.  The first thing that has come to mind, frankly, is being out here for a longer period of time.

At home, I really have four or five activities that are my life:  Iai, Weight Training, volunteering at my local rabbit shelter, my prayers and reading, writing, and whatever I languages I happen to be studying (currently Japanese and Old English).  A great many other things have become curtailed as a result of The Plague, of course - church attendance for one, and Highland Athletics for another.  

But now, those things are being interrupted too.  I practice Iai and train when we have remote classes, but that is not every session.  I train, but with body weights inside (trust me, my coach is no less brutal for the lack of weights).  I simply cannot be at the rabbit shelter (I do miss them mightily).  My other activities all stay with me, of course - I can take those with me wherever I go. 

Maybe, as if my hand is being asked to release, instead of being forced.

It would be, of course, arrogant of me to assume that anything of the sort is happening.  But I do recall the quote of Corrie Ten Boom, "Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open."