The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

Hooray, my new Green Card arrives!

The Green Card is a residence permit, as several immigration officers have informed me during my 20 years of having one.

“Mr Calder, you are spending too much time outside the United States. You cannot live outside the U.S. and have a Green Card.”

I spend a lot of time in Japan and before that in France, accordingly I am paranoid that my application for a new card will be refused.

The new card is valid until June 2035. Where will I be in 2035? Probably not healthy to think too much about it. For the time being everything is hunky dory.

I change the furniture in my room.

I lash out on a very expensive leather sofa or love seat as they say around here.

I throw the old love seat out on the sidewalk. I phone 311. It is a city funded pick up old stuff service. “No problem my friend, I will send round a truck.” An hour later a truck arrives but there is a difficulty – a homeless guy is dozing on the sofa. “He has every right to chill on that love seat, man. He ain’t breaking no law.” says the truck guy. “We will come back and hope he has gone.”

My anemia treatment has entered a new phase. Steroids have been sent off for foul play. I now have infusions of stuff called Rituximab. I go for the first session yesterday. It takes 6 hours for the stuff to infuse! I have blood pressure. temperature, heart rate tested every 30 minutes.

The haematologist visits me during the infusion to give me a detailed explanation of what is happening. Good bloke.

Finally leave with a detailed dossier covering my treatment and all things infusion. I also get a free thermometer.

Amazing treatment! Thank you.

I camp for 3 days at Gold Lake. The lake is way up in the Sierras at 6,500 ft, just under the Sierra Butte mountains.

The scenery, both on the drive up there and at the lake itself, is so beautiful.

I sit by the lake, breathe mountain air and doze. I am very feeble and hikes and stuff like that are beyond my capabilities. However, I love to cook and eat outdoors. so that is what I do.

I drink a lot of tea.

I sit in the sun watching birds and listening to another book on Captain Cook. That’s about it.

A grotesque dresser thing has followed me around for the last 20 years or so. I never liked it.

I finally get around to selling it.

I have been taken off steroids, much reducing my chances in the next Olympics,

After weeks of glorious sunny weather, Summer has come to San Francisco. It is cold, windy, foggy.

I like it. It is mysterious, I hear foghorns in bed at night.

It is Tuesday, I have to pick up an octopus.

I then cross the road for breakfast at the Pork Store.

The Legion of Honor art gallery was donated by France for some reason. I go there. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legion_of_Honor_(museum)

It is a fabulous place. I am always astounded and grateful that you can just wander in and spend hours with outstanding art worth millions and millions. A privilege.

I am about to post this blog entry when my phone rings. It is the specialist haematologist whom I saw last Friday. He tells me that my red blood cell count is much improved but on the other hand my white blood cell count is now crazy high. He wants me to go for ‘blood work.’ This means a blood test in U.S. talk.

I jump in a Waymo to Mark Zuckerberg hospital and 20 mins later I am having a blood test. No waiting.

I’m astonished that the consultant haematologist phones me personally and indeed says he will phone me again once he gets the results. What treatment! This is all free State healthcare.

Thank you State of California.

In my bulkiest days in Okinawa, I weighed 126 kilos. Today I weigh 90 kilos! I have lost 36 kilos, which is apparently the weight of a baby rhino at birth.

The upshot is my trousers are all too big and they flap around like er sailors’ trousers. “What two French towns are like a sailor’s trousers? Toulon and Toulouse.”

Even after some 24 years living in the States, I still cannot say ‘pants’ when talking about trousers. It seems rude. My trouser cut has always been called, ‘wide’, ‘ample’, ‘fat ass”.

I order a new pair and gamble on much smaller waist size and slim fit.

They fit! I am delighted!

A propos of nothing, succulents thrive in San Francisco.

Sorry, more birds taken through the window whilst seated on my sofa.

Take steroids.

Where better to burst through the 200,000 miles barrier than on top of a hill on Point Reyes?

The Tacoma has without any doubt been the best vehicle I have ever owned. I have had her since 20017 and apart from a busted clutch, my fault, and a deregulation in the only electronic system, she has been incredibly robust and reliable. Deserts, mountains, snowfields and truly terrible off-road tracks have been elbowed aside with disdain. Thank you Tacoma. Can’t buy trucks like this anymore. The new ones are super fragile computers.

My brain boils, bubbles, buzzes with steroids. I have to get up and do stuff. I set off to camp at China Camp, which is very close to the city. Long history – Chinese set up a shrimp fishing camp here very early, in the 1850s. They dried the shrimp and exported it to China!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China_Camp_State_Park When I get there, the campground turns out to be ‘walk in only’. The delightful camp hosts call the Samuel Taylor Coleridge State Park, where I camped last week, and tell me that there are places free if I would like to go over. Such nice people, I wish I had taken a photo.

James and I had breakfast in the Mission a couple of days ago.

Random

I move back from the pastoral of Point Reyes to the mean streets of San Francisco. Actually, couldn’t be further from the truth – mean streets – I mean.

The Sunday Farmers’ Market on Clement is not mean. The sun shines, the people are slim, happy, Californian friendly and good looking. The fruit and vegetables and stuff are so fresh and homegrown. It is very different from the America I hear about from Europeans.

I stumble to the Plough and Stars where, 15, 20 years ago, I used to play a lot of traditional Irish music.

People are playing, they are old friends!

I am swept away by the wonderfulness of everything and what is more, am given a free pint of Guinness.

Thank you everyone in the Plough for warm welcome.

Drunk on one pint of Guinness, I hirple down Clement to buy more octopus from one of the excellent Chinese supermarkets. I then get fresh Dim Sum and a Waymo home, wallowing in happiness and joy.

Things take a turn for the worse as I get out of the car at the house to realise that I no longer have my flute. I have left it somewhere.

James and I rush back to the Dim Sum store. No one speaks English but they do have my flute! My incredible luck abides!

I must keep taking the steroids.

So good living in San Francisco! Two days ago I was ranging around the Mission, trying hard not to buy too much amazing exotic food by eating as much I could while I was there.

Yesterday, I was here.

I am feeling very athletic, probably due to the vast quantities of steroids that I use to supplement my diet.

I drive the short hop to https://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=469. My eyesight is not perfect and I improve my view by attaching new wing mirrors that give me much better rear visibility.

I set up camp in the huge Redwoods. So beautiful, so quiet, so much wildlife.

I love to cook outside.

I sleep so well and am up at dawn to drive the 10 miles to Point Reyes.

There are wildflowers everywhere, the sun is shining, the sky is blue and Elk.

I drive back over the Golden Gate Bridge. Lucky me!

I have mentioned several times the excellence of Japanese healthcare whilst generally poo-pooing healthcare in San Francisco. Well, I take a lot of this back.

I am now locked into the MediCal system here and it works very well. I get free health care and medication and above all I get the app MyChart. Blood test results, appointments, prescriptions are all done on paper in Okinawa but here there is a fantastic app.

Thank you MediCal!

I am much more energised and head off to the Mission to buy exotic food. There are fantastic Mexican/Chinese fish and meat stores around Mission /24th.

I head off for lunch.

I have a new doctor, or provider, as the terminology here will have it.

The clinic is the other side of town from Fell so lots of opportunities to zoom around in Waymos.

I am now well looked after. I have 2 blood tests. I get a call at 10:00pm. It is a doctor saying that my red cell level is dangerously low and I should go to ER. This I cannot do as I am watching Gregory Peck in ‘Captain Hornblower.’ My new doctor is very attentive and prescribes steroids. I have to have blood tests every 3 days. I am much reassured as the MediCal system now has the bit between its teeth and they appear determined to effect a cure.

I do not feel unwell, just weak. I have lost lots and lots of weight and my skin hangs off my body like curtains. Thank you State of California. All treatment and medication is free!

There was a beautiful Ceanothus tree in the back yard that fought valiantly against all the disturbances and poison of the restoration. No good – she died.

I determine to cut it down and so buy a tiny chain saw thing.

It is a great tool and I slice away gleefully.

I am suddenly 73 years old! Jonathan and Renee take me out for a very good French lunch. Thank you.

Thanks all who sent birthday wishes! First time I have not had an alcoholic drink on my birthday for 70 years!