illness and personal change

The Loss of a Precious Pet

/ Laura Lee Carter / 4 Comments
Rasta was my Christmas present in 2008…what a cutie pup!

We lost our precious Rasta pup this week. After a couple of weeks of trying to avoid reality, we found we had to accept that his quality of life had taken a brutal turn for the worse, with the loss of his other eye to glaucoma and a stroke. He was 14 and a half and had one of the best lives a pet could have. He was loved and appreciated his whole life.

“The cutest puppy in the history of the world!” to quote our friend Rad

I have not had much direct experience with death in my life. Yes, I have avoided it, I must admit. Mike didn’t have that luxury as his beloved mother died at an early age. There has been a touch of non-reality to death in my life, even though I have lost pets before. Unfortunately, Mike had to deal with the actual physical body for us. Our vet comes out to your car and puts your pet to sleep in your arms. I will never forget the shot to his heart. Then Mike prepared him for burial and buried him on our land, in a place that is not physically accessible for me.

Here are a few personal observations about loss and grieving from my perspective:

There is a certain non-reality to death. They were here and now they’re just gone.

I feel extreme sadness and yet I know that Rasta is better off not suffering anymore.

We removed the obvious reminders of his life around us and yet I still look for him constantly, miss his greeting when I come into our home, save delicious leftovers for him, and talk to him. I can’t get out much anymore. He was my constant companion.

There are so many TV commercials for pet food, etc. making it abundantly clear that pets have become our new version of children…

We should not make any comparisons about how we each suffer loss and grieve. Everyone feels pain and loss differently and it can bring up difficult previous memories of loss and pain. We all grieve in our own way.

This kind of pain leaves me searching for any type of escape or distraction from the loss. Just to forget this loss temporarily feels like a blessing.

Goodbye Rasta. Rest in Peace. We loved you so very much!

A Tour of My CO Sky Garden, End of June 2023

/ Laura Lee Carter / 1 Comment

I haven’t been out to my garden lately because of a painful hip and various illnesses in our family. But this morning was glorious, with temperatures in the 60s and great light, so I took a walk around and this is what I found.

First I noticed the loveliness of the East Spanish Peak, with a sash of wispy clouds around it.

Then I was drawn to my center piece of golden yarrow and those Rocky Mountain Penstemon who survived the deer that ate most of them in early spring.

Behind and to the right is my Buddha decorated with native Showy Four O’Clocks and Catmint. I still have a yellow Coreopsis that should be coming in soon to the left of Buddha, if the others leave enough room!

My yarrow and lavender plants are coming along well…

My yellow Columbine is almost finished blooming. Now it’s spreading its seed for next year…

My favorite time of year in my garden!

We had a quiet time celebrating the solstice this June. Our loving pup Rasta is now almost completely blind. Glaucoma just took his other eye this week 😦

Finding the Strength to Let Go of Self

/ Laura Lee Carter / 3 Comments

I believe our lives are a process of finding and confronting our true Self, and then slowly letting go of it as we age. Some might prefer the word ego in this scenario. I have had this message on my wall for decades:

What is the ego or sense of Self?

ego: a person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance, the part of the mind that mediates between the conscious and the unconscious and is responsible for a sense of personal identity.

The way I relate to my sense of Self is to know that as a child and young adult my ‘job’ was to develop my sense of who I was inside, what did I think and value? How should I treat others? How did others see me? This naturally leads to a strong sense of self-consciousness, sometimes painfully so. Then came the time to figure out what I planned to do in the world. How did I hope to change my world? These are the purposes of young adulthood up until our forties or so.

Developing a strong sense of self or ego is a good and necessary part of being human. There is nothing wrong with having a strong ego, but it needs to be regulated. Problems arise when ego affects your decision making process, turning you into a victim, or when it makes you feel superior to others in order to justify your bad behavior. A toxic ego is one that does not learn from bad behavior, but instead blames others, often descending into negativity, resentment, and even violence.

For the past twenty years, my spiritual path has been that of the second part of life. I have been searching for the strength to let go of self. A part of this process is simply getting comfortable with self compassion and death. Although we might think we have a strong sense of self when we are younger, if we are very honest we may find much self-criticism inside. This is all a part of the ego. Like we really did have the power to change any part of our world…

Being close to nature is your best path to realizing your place in the history of time. Please note, there are no other animals or plants that believe they are changing the world. There are no other beings that fear death. They know what their part is, to be born, to live and then die. I have found a gradual process of getting used to the idea of death is the best path for me. At first is was so hard to be with so I would push it away and deny its power. Since I started facing some powerful signs that I won’t be around forever (lung disease and brain injuries) in the past few years, my acceptance has grown like my garden outside my door, bright and beautiful.

“A Man Called Otto” my very personal review

/ Laura Lee Carter / 6 Comments

My family has been falling apart…literally, in the past few years. We are a family of elders with no children or grandchildren around us. I am the youngest at age 68.

First my Dad died in 2020 leaving my Mom bereaved, in great need of companionship, and beginning to experience dementia and yet forced to live alone for a couple years, because of the COVID pandemic. In the meantime, my brother John finally left his lean-to tent near Oak Creek outside of Sedona AZ to move up near Mike and I. He needed more help to live. Since 2020 my sister and her husband have been taking care of our Mom in Denver while Mike and I have been helping John access affordable housing, medical care and food assistance here.

As John and Mom’s memory and mental status continued to fail, our Mom went into assisted living in Denver. Today my sister and I do what we can to keep everyone going in spite of our own health challenges. We also commiserate often over what is happening to our family. This can be quite depressing at times.

I spent most of my life trying to “go it alone.” After a traumatic betrayal in my early 20s I decided, “Who needs all those others who can be so disloyal, undependable and will only abandon me in the end?” When I was in counseling in my 30s my counselor assigned me the duty of inviting others to share a hike or a meal with me. I have spent most of my life alone.

This is why I can highly recommend the 2022 film “A Man Called Otto.” This story does not minimize the difficulties of life, especially as we enter our 60s and 70s. The writer acknowledges the “systems” we put in place to retain some sense of order in an otherwise lonely, messy and chaotic world. Yes, life can be so unfair at times. Yes, it is almost impossible to go it alone. Yes, suicide is always an option. Yes, some of us must be forced into caring for others, but that can also be our saving grace.

That is why I so joyfully welcomed Mike into my life at age 49. I changed. I finally found somebody worth my trust and was forced to acknowledge that life would not be worth living without the love and support of my best friend.

We Carters have never been a close family, but now we are finally bound together to face the end of us all. Mike has joined us in this process, as his own brother and sisters face their own demise. I guess this must be a common boomer process we face, especially if we don’t have children or grandchildren that care.

We all face the future as it comes, crying together when we need to, and laughing at it all when we can; knowing that all of humanity has come before us facing very similar situations and consequences. In the process, the love of others is such a plus.

March is Brain Injury Awareness Month

/ Laura Lee Carter / 5 Comments

There isn’t a lot I can do to “change the world” these days, but one area that I have too much experience with is serious brain injuries and how they can change your world. So this month I will try to educate everyone a bit about what I have learned on this topic.

A traumatic brain injury (TBI) is one where you lose consciousness for a period of time and often have a bleed in your brain afterwards. It is a sudden injury that causes damage to the brain and may happen when there is a blow, bump, or jolt to the head. This is a closed head injury. A TBI can also happen when an object penetrates the skull. This is a penetrating injury. In my case I fell head first off of my bike while riding downhill. I was unconscious off and on for hours afterwards along with fractured ribs, a thigh injury, a wrist injury, and spent 24 hours in the ER and the hospital neuro-unit under observation. At the time I could not stand up without passing out.

How long does it take to fully recover from a TBI?

Depending on the severity of the injury, recovery time for a TBI may vary from a few weeks to six or more months. Each person reacts differently to injury and illness. Thus, recovery time will vary between individuals. The length of recovery time for TBI depends on how long a patient is unconscious and what parts of the brain are injured.

Are patients ever the same after a TBI?

Moderate to severe TBI can cause permanent physical or mental disability. Because polytrauma is common with moderate to severe TBI, many patients face additional disabilities as a result of other injuries. Even patients who appear to recover fully may have some long-term symptoms that never go away.

My experience:

I would say it took a few years for me to feel “normal” again after my TBI in 2008. My main form of rehabilitation was writing books, reading a lot and maintaining my blogs.

Unfortunately, I have been prone to falls and further head injuries since then. I fell again with serious concussions in 2015, 2019 and 2021. My most recent concussion was most serious and caused permanent balance, memory and vertigo problems. I now use research, writing and game shows like Jeopardy to spur my memory and keep me sharp. I also love old movies, soft music, and nature shows on PBS. They really soothe my brain.

Does TBI affect IQ?

In the end, a brain injury does not make a person less intelligent. It does, however, make certain mental activities, such as learning, require more time and effort. This is because the brain works less efficiently after a brain injury.

My biggest pet peeve around my present condition is that others may look at me and assume I’m not quite all there. I am definitely as smart as I used to be, it just takes me longer to arrive at the answers. I do have trouble getting around because of my oxygen machine, but that doesn’t mean that I am someone to feel sorry for. I do not feel sorry for myself.

I think I have a great life here with Mike and my puppy Rasta, and this fantastic view of those beautiful Sangre de Cristo Peaks.

A Different Kind of Mind

/ Laura Lee Carter / 1 Comment

Somehow I never pictured myself breathless and brain damaged at age 67. ‘Disabled’ did not occur to me ever, until things started happening to me. It took me an amazing length of time to believe that I was having trouble breathing. In fact, I didn’t discovery it myself. A very observant MD in Colorado City turned to me once when we were there for Mike’s health and said, “Are your lips turning blue? Let’s do a walking test.” For those unaware, a walking test is a simple walk around a doctor’s office where they test your O2 level before and after your block-long walk. I flunked, dipping far below 90 and yet I still insisted this could not be happening to me. Recently we went through the same test with my brother John, and yes, he denied it, and now he’s enjoying his supplemental O2.

My point is, unless you are literary hit over the head with a new disability (like a head injury?) it is very hard to accept that you may have a big new problem. I struggled against using oxygen at home for quite a while. I simply could not believe it, plus we Carters are known for extreme stubbornness. Now I can only go a couple minutes without it.

The head injuries started in my fifties and who knows, perhaps they were connected with shortness of breath. I know my most recent concussion were related to being out of breath. I went to look for something, forgot my oxygen, and ended up passed out for the floor. Unfortunately Mike was gone for a few days so when I came to I had to crawl over to my bed and get up there to lay down. I never forgot my oxygen again!

The aspect of disability I find both surprising and annoying is when others find it natural or even necessary to feel sorry for me. Some old friends have even stopped communicating with me. Talk about feeling written off! When I heard there is a new TV show called “Not Dead Yet” I thought, that’s me!

What I would like to share with all of you who think I’m done or doomed (aren’t we all?) is that, yes, my brain has changed, but sometimes it feels like it might be for the better.

I know I may have sometimes sounded pathologically optimistic here, but these days I rather enjoy my present state of mind. When I’m sitting staring out at our incredible views of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range, which I do a lot of, there is a certain non-reality that is a bit like being high without drugs. That I like. I also believe that in some strange way I may have become less judgmental and more intelligent by exchanging certain parts of my brain for a less precise and exacting attitude. Call it more flexible or easygoing, but I find that soothing. Perhaps my brain got tired of holding grudges.

Of course living with Mike has helped me a lot. I am definitely the worrywart in this partnership. We Carters are first-class worriers, expertly trained by a number of previous generations. I will never forget a few years ago when I was sitting in the living room listing my well-established list of worries for Mike. He had heard this list too many times, and I guess he was tired of it, so this time he sat back in his easy chair and said, “Who cares! Is worrying about these things going to change anything?” That made a lot of sense to my bruised and shaken brain…