A little more pain, encouragement, remembering

By Don Rush

It’s been an interesting week plus in the life of your ink-stained-wretch of a hero. Yeah, you know I messed up my knee and as the swelling has gone down, the pain has gone up. Some have even seen pictures of the bum leg or viewed it in person. A lot of you readers have sent very kind words of healing and some words of “encouragement?” Take a peek at this email from a dude named Steve.

Don, from your reference to jumping (not so) tall buildings in a single bound, road rash inducing falls and various close encounters with solid objects, it appears you and I share a similar history. As someone older than you, I can advise that this is likely the first of numerous reminders you will have that your super powers have faded.

After experiencing severe “discomfort” in my back a few years ago, I submitted to an MRI. The diagnosis was spinal stenosis complicated by a “scoliosis event”! (The use of the “event” word suggested to me that I may have fallen off the stage at a Rolling Stones concert. I clearly hit my head more than you!) The Doc explained that there was evidence of an old injury that was likely the result of trauma from a fall.

Not to worry!

You will doubtless eventually be treated to the challenges and benefits of adding to the bottom line of a physical therapist (I can recommend a very good one in Clarkston) combined with beginning your days with ice then heat then more ice therapy.

This is not the end of mindless mobility, my friend…just the beginning of monitoring your true grit meter….and watching where you step.

Good luck with the Doc and feel better soon! — Steve

Thanks, Steve (I think)! Thanks too, to all those who have taxied me around and to Dr. Tim O’Neill for working me in quickly and Dr. Shivajee Nallamothu who I know will treat me right. Prior to press, I find out what they are gonna’ do about my shredded patellar tendon. (Whatever that is.)

* * *

Memorial Day . . . all the pomp and circumstance, the parades and ceremonies, the picnics, barbecues and family gatherings are all nice ways to celebrate this holiday. Sometimes, however, I think the history and reason for this American holiday gets lost. Simply, it is to remember those who paid the ultimate price in service to this nation. Their sacrifices and all those who laid it on the line, risking life and many times their limbs should be remembered and honored. That said, here’s a little bit on the history of Memorial Day you may not remember!

While we set aside this one day to remember, we should thank our lucky stars men and women are on guard everyday, 24/7 so we can roast our weenies the way we want. While it may seem we are a divided nation, we are still bonded by the blood and sacrifices of those who came before.

You’ve seen the American Legion types on the street corners selling those red, paper flowers as a fundraiser. If you missed buying yours, you can make a donation any time you want to any of the local Legion posts.

* * *

Legends of poppy fields popping up over battlefields are reported from the time of Genghis Khan, through the Napoleonic wars and up until the first World War. Why, you may be asking? Well, dear reader, because as any Master Gardener knows, poppy seeds can lay dormant for years, only to germinate when the soil they lay in gets turned up. After particularly bloody battles, the war dead were left or buried under the battlefield. The battlefield turned graveyard, turned to soil and poppies grew.

In 1915, Canadian military medic John McCrae penned the poem, In Flander’s Field:

In Flander’s Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

* * *

In 1918, an American woman, Moina Michael wrote: We cherish too, the Poppy red That grows on fields where valor led, It seems to signal to the skies That blood of heroes never dies . . .

She then adopted the custom of wearing a red poppy in memory of the sacrifices of war and also as a symbol of keeping the faith. After that, those darned French adopted the custom and took it one step further. So the story goes, Madam Guerin, after returning from the United States, made and sold red poppies to raise money to benefit orphaned children and destitute women in war torn France. Folks in England, Australia, France, Canada and the good old US of A, still continue this tradition.

* * *

From Botanical.com: Red poppies are “Corn Poppies.” This plant does not contain opium. Corn Poppies, Papaver rhoeas, however, does contain a mild sedative that has been used since the Romans were tops in the world.

Enjoy the holiday and remember to remember. Send your comments to Rush via email, DontRushDon@gmail.com

 

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