I lost a friend…The harsh realities of aging and health…

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 My friend of 38 years, Colleen, had lived in St. Thomas for 25 years and moved to Florida when her health began to fail. Here she is holding onto her round-the-clock oxygen supply.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

The helmeted guineafowls have been gone a few months. They returned with many chicks in tow yesterday, teaching them how to “steal” pellets from warthogs.  As annoying as they can be, it was delightful to see their offspring.

We’ve lost several friends since we began traveling the world in 2012. Shortly before starting our journey, we lost our dear friend Chip in Minnesota. He happened to be a neighbor, four doors from us, but I cannot say he was simply a “neighbor.”

 Both mine and Tom’s relationship with this fine, funny, brilliant, retired orthopedic surgeon and his lovely wife Sue far surpassed the equivalency as often applied to a “neighbor,” a friend made by convenience and friendliness.

Instead, over 26 years, Chip became one of the most important people in our lives; a social companion; an intellectual stimulator; a hearty conversationalist, rife with myriad fascinating opinions; and a shoulder to lean on during tough times.  

Here’s the link to our story about Chip posted on June 2012, four months before we left Minnesota.

Oh, that he would be near us now during this challenging recovery period offering his unsolicited medical advice, emotional support, and always, a good belly laugh thrown in for good measure. He and his wife, Sue, with whom we’ve stayed in close touch, remain in our hearts every day.

I was honored to be asked by the family to speak at his memorial service a month before we left Minnesota, and to this day, I wonder how I managed to get through it with the lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.

And, as these travel years have continued, we’ve continued to lose more friends. I suppose as this generation of ours continues to develop serious age-related illnesses, we’ll experience more and more of these losses.

A few years later, we lost our dear friend Lane who walked into a room to make everyone’s heart sing with pure pleasure and adoration.  How fortunate we were to have this remarkable man counted amongst our friends over the years.  We stay in touch with his wife, Peggy, through Facebook, enjoying many delightful comments back and forth.

Here’s the link to our story about Lane posted in May 2013, seven months after we left Minnesota.

Then, we lost dear sister-in-law Lee, married to Tom’s blind 90 years old brother Jerome. Lee was his eyes, love, and support for 61 years. We always loved her for her kindness, warmth, and devoted attention to Jerome.

Here is the link to our post about Lee from December 2013.

And then, there was our friend Richard whom we met in Kauai, Hawaii, and quickly became a friend to both of us. Richard and his wife Elaine quickly welcomed us into their busy social life. Richard was considered to be quite the social director. Undoubtedly, in the short period we knew him, he became very important to us both.

Here’s the link to our post about Richard from February 2016.

The list could go on and on of railroad friends, their spouses, and family members that have passed away over the past six and a half years since we left Minnesota.  

And then, yesterday, I received an email informing me that my dear friend Colleen, whom I cherished 38 years of friendship, passed away in February in Florida.  

A kindly friend of Colleen’s notified me after she’d recalled how often Colleen mentioned me and how she’d been such an avid reader of our site, constantly sending me email messages as to how much she was enjoying our posts as her health was failing.

Her messages always meant so much to me. As an avid traveler, Colleen lived vicariously relived her travel days through daily posts. Until her illness, COPD required more medical care for many years. She resided in St. Thomas, the US Virgin Islands.  

While we were sailing on a Caribbean cruise in April 2013, one of the ports of call was St. Thomas. Of course, I was excited to see her, and we selected a strip mall near to pier to meet. We hugged as if we’d never hugged before and proceeded to have a fantastic day together.

Tom had walked me to the shop where we met, and he returned for a quiet day aboard the ship while I stayed with Colleen. She was able to drive at that time and drove me around the beautiful island showing me her favorite spots. 

We ended at her home of 25 years overlooking the sea, sipped on tea, and shared memories of our years and our time apart. That was the last time I saw her. But, since that time, we have stayed in close touch via email. She never failed to write “thank you’s” to me for brightening her days as she began to fall. A few months ago, she sent me an email message, warm, loving, and heartfelt.

Then, the flurry of my condition distracted me from writing, although I knew as I recovered I’d get in touch with her. I didn’t want to whine to her about how I felt when she was striving for her next breath.

And now, she’s gone, and already, less than a day after being notified of her passing, I miss her, regretting I never called her upon returning from the hospital weeks ago. How fortunate I was to be her friend for 38 years.

Here is the link from the last time I saw Colleen in April 2013. May she rest in peace, and may memories of her always remain fresh in my mind.

Death, the veritable mystery, awaits us all in due time. Lately, it has been on my mind, more than ever, as I faced the rigors of this dangerous and challenging surgery and recovery. And, now, as I mend, I cherish each day and all the days I am gifted to experience in times to come. 

Embrace every moment…

Photo from one year ago today, March 20, 2018:

We visited Gail and Mark on Sunday to discuss a story we’ll be posting later this Friday about the stunning and heartwarming book Gail wrote, “Her Name is Missy,” of their time in Liberia during the worst of the Ebola epidemic and her heroic rescue of a chimpanzee named Missy. Please check back on Friday for the story. We loved seeing the birds they feed at their home and holiday lodglodgesoss a small river road. The visit prompted us to purchase a bird feeder and seeds. For more photos, please click here.

Oh, oh, I was called for jury duty in Nevada, USA…Medical update…Load shedding continues..

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Busy morning in our garden!

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Bushbucks, kudu, and warthogs.

A few days ago, I received a notice from Clark County Court in Nevada, our state of residency, informing me I had been selected for jury duty and must appear on April 15th. I’m not going to be making an appearance on that date or any other date soon.

Their relatively easy-to-use website allowed me to enter the reasons why I can’t appear:  “emergency coronary bypass surgery while in South Africa.” I wrote a letter and attached it to the online form h, hoping this will be sufficient to be excused. I have no doubt it will be accepted.

In the past few posts, I hadn’t mentioned much in regard to my ongoing recovery. The infections in both of my legs have been quite a scare. On numerous occasions, I’d read those infections after this surgery brings an enormous amount of risk.

This morning Basket stopped by for breakfast.

The doctors both agree, local Dr. Theo and surgeon Dr. Haude in Nelspruit mutually agreed the infections could be treated as an outpatient after all and I could avoid going back into the hospital for IV antibiotics. 

When I hawasoved to the regular hospital after eight days in the ICU, I  insisted on being released to return to Marloth Park within 36 hours. The level of care was substantially inferior to that of the ICU. It wasn’t easy to get a nurse to come to my room for any reason. I knew Tom would take better care of me back “home.” And he did, far beyond my expectations.

Mom and Three Babies.  The fourth baby never reappeared.

Once back in Marloth I realized why the surgeon suggested I stay in the hospital for a few more days.  I was in terrible shape. But, as the days continued I gradually improved with a few setbacks including:

  • A massive swollen, bleeding and painful incision in my right thigh that only now has begun to heal.
  • A tear in a chest wall muscle from moving wrong the first night we were back.
  • Infections in both of my lower legs from ankle to knee that is now being treated with powerful antibiotics (and strong probiotics to aid in maintaining a level of intestinal flora)
  • Discomfort from the two incisions left from the chest drainage tubes removed on the sixth-day post-surgery proved to be the most painful of all.
Bushbucks are cautious around warthogs.

All of these setbacks have since resolved considerably except for the infections in my legs. This morning when removing the overnight bandages, cleaning the wounds with a prescribed antibacterial wash, slathering on antibiotic cream, applying new sterile bandages with Tom putting the compression stocking back on, I noticed some improvement.

Yesterday morning, with little improvement I asked the doctor to prescribe more of the antibiotics. The five-day course wasn’t enough. After taking two more tablets, 12 hours apart, finally, I see and feel some improvement. We are very optimistic at this point.  
 
Provided the improvement continues through tomorrow, I may be able to return to the walking program, taking up where I left off at two 20-minute sessions per day. We’ll see how it goes.

Mentally and emotionally, I’m in good shape. The typical depression and anxiety frequently observed after this big surgery has apparently bypassed me (no pun intended). I am well on my way to “overly bubbly” status in days or a few weeks to come.
This morning’s visit by kudus.
My powerful sense of gratitude is a constant reminder to keep me motivated and in a positive state of mind. How dare I complain when I’m so grateful to be alive?

The holiday season has begun in South Africa and more and more tourists are coming to stay in the park. We can observe this by the number of cars passing along our road. Much to our surprise and delight, the wildlife is still abundant in our garden bringing both of us much joy.

On the lesser side, load shedding is annoying as it can be. Right now, there are three 2.5-hour outages each and every day. This results in no power for an average of about 30% of our day and evening. 

As mentioned in earlier posts,  load shedding is when the country’s only main electricity supplier, Eskom shuts off power in designated areas of the country in its entirety to conserve power resources.  I won’t get into the politics on this outrageous situation which results from years of poor management.

There we about a dozen kudus wandering in and out of this scene.
We manage our day into a routine around the need for electricity. In the mornings it begins a 7:00 am, lasting until 9:30 am. InIttarts at 1500 hours (3:00 pm),  in the afternoon, lasting until 1730 hours (5:30 pm), and then again in the evenings at 2300 hours, ending at 1:30 am.  
During the late shutoff we’re often awake and with the high daytime temperatures right now at around 38C, 100.4F, it gets awfully hot in the bedroom where we’re unable to open windows, use a fan or aircon.  

Those are a long two and a half hours during which neither of us is able to sleep. Once the power returns, we turn the aircon back on since it doesn’t restart on its own. We lay there with the remote between us on the bed anxious to start it up again.

 
So, there it is folks, the good and the not so good of our days and nights right now.  Do we ask, “safari luck” where are you? No, we’ve been gifted with the greatest safari luck on the planet…life itself.
 
Take good care of yourselves, dear reader!

Photo from one year ago today, March 19, 2018:

Francolins often visit us. They are shy, run very fast, fly very little and make lots of noise during the day and early evening. We named this pair, Frank and the Mrs. who’ve yet to produce their first chick in over a year. For more, please click here.

 

Post from seven years ago…Less fearful than years ago…Willie…what a guy!…

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Willie often makes eye contact, usually only one eye, as indicated in this photo. Wildebeest’s eyes are far apart on either side of his head. He loves for me to talk to him. How do I know this? He won’t begin eating a single pellet until I’m done talking. 

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Little’s vacuum-like mouth scours the ground for a stray pellet he may have missed.

While searching for a photo Louise had taken of a warthog in the kitchen of one of her holiday homes, I stumbled across the post from March 16, 2012, from over seven years ago.

It was this photo plus one of this same pig lying in front of the fireplace, sleeping, and snoring that inspired us to come to Marloth Park while researching possible locations. A pig in the kitchen? I’m all in! Tom, not so much.
 
It took a lot of convincing to get Tom to feel comfortable with the concept of wild animals walking around the grounds of our vacation/holiday home. I explained the Big Five (rhino, lion, cape buffalo, leopard, and elephant would be a short distance down the road at the Crocodile River, separated by a fence between Marloth Park and Kruger National Park.
Wildebeest Willie stopped by with two bushbucks joining him to see what was on the menu.
This put his mind at ease a little but not entirely. But even then, seven years ago, I had some hesitancy of the prospect of 227 kg to 318 kg (500 to 700-pound) animals hanging out in our yard (referred to as a “garden” in South Africa) along with the cringe-worthy prospect of vicious baboons, venomous snakes and a wide array of venomous insects, flies, and mosquitos.  
 
In that post from March 16, 2012, I wrote in part:
 
“We ask ourselves so many questions, not so much to put a damper on our adventure but to maintain a sense of the reality of what is yet to come. “They say” that worry is a useless emotion. If worrying prompts or motivates one to take self-preserving steps, then worry has some unmitigated value.  


Overcoming fear is next in line. Fear in itself is a powerful motivator. The healthy self-love and appreciation we experience after overcoming fear are the greatest rewards life has to offer us in our continuing search for personal growth and self-discovery.”

Willie doesn’t care for carrots, celery tops, or apples. He likes pellets. He doesn’t usually “look,” begging for pellets as many animals do.
We both had lived our lives with a certain degree of risk, a sense of adventure, and occasional fear. Were we going to push ourselves to our limits by coming to South Africa for this ultimate adventure?  
 
It’s funny, now as we look back after spending almost two years in Africa, how our fears have lessened regarding the danger of animals and increased regarding danger from human beings. Ironic.
 
We’ve never felt afraid in Marloth Park, even when lions have crossed the barrier of the fence at the river and wandered the roads. Curfews were established during these periods, and everyone in the park kept a watchful eye, reporting any sightings.  
 
One wouldn’t necessarily go for a walk or ride a bike when lions have been sighted, and yet a foolhardy few don’t hesitate to embark on such activities during these periods.
When he wipes out the pellets on the ground, he often lies down near the clothesline, politely waiting should more pellets come his way.  It’s hard to resist giving him more.
It was only a few days ago when we posted the story of Jonas in the “year ago photo” who was attacked by a lion while riding his bike at night, on March 11, 1999, some 20 years ago. At that time, there was no fence between Marloth Park and Kruger National Park. It was frightening for the few residents who lived in the park at that time.
 
What do we fear now? Certainly not as much as we had in March 2012, the first month we began posting. We can narrow it down to only a few areas of concern; ill health (especially as of late), risks on travel days, and the possibility of crime-related incidences impacting our lives.  
 
It was only a few days ago, on March 13th we posted information on crimes that occurred in Marloth Park, as described in this post. As we’ve mentioned in many posts over the years, there is nowhere on this entire planet that is entirely safe.  
 
And yet, we make every attempt to surround ourselves with a positive state of mind while maintaining a degree of mindfulness and awareness of everything around us.
 
The most frightening experience thus far in the past years of travel? This. I continue to recover.
 
Be well. It means everything.
 
Photo from one year ago today, March 18, 2018:
This warthog appears to have been rolling in mud as she hangs out with male impala. For more photos, please click here.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to those who celebrate…Soon we’ll be in Ireland!…

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Mom and Baby bushbuck searching for pellets Tom tossed in the garden.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

A “forkl” of kudu stopped by for some treats.  We had lettuce, celery tops and stems, and of course, plenty of pellets.

Finally, the antibiotics have begun to work on my infected legs.  I’m cautiously optimistic.  I’m able to walk a little more but certainly not back to the 40 minutes a day I’d been able to do before the infection sets in. I imagine in a few days. I’ll be able to return to the daily walking regiment and pick up where I left off, working toward 60 minutes daily.

It’s been 33 days since the surgery, with three weeks of healing in Marloth Park. In the past 24 hours, I’ve also noticed a dramatic improvement in how I feel overall. As I’m seated on the sofa in the lounge room with the fan blowing on me (hot day today), legs up on a pillow, I am almost feeling like my old self.

 No doubt, I still have a long way to go to a full recovery, but I now have a sense of an end to this process. I’ll incorporate the 60 minutes of walking each day going forward, continue eating a healthy diet, and strive to keep stress to a minimum.

Mom and Baby were joined by a male bushbuck near the cement pond.  Could this be Dad?

During the past 24 hours, both of us have been researching the next leg of our journey, Connemara, Ireland, a perfect location on the sea with plenty of opportunities for long walks and taking photos of the stunning surroundings.

Yesterday, Tom stumbled upon the following from this link:

“Dubbed a place of “savage beauty” by Oscar Wilde, the striking region of Connemara has been a landmark destination for anyone looking to experience authentic Ireland.”

“Located in the rugged west of Ireland, you could think of Connemara as a vault, where Ireland’s traditions are stored safely against the march of time. Passing through the desolate yet beautiful Doo Lough and Delphi Valleys, the landscape tumbles down to the dark waters of Killary Harbour, a stunning fjord framed by olive-colored mountains. It’s a sign that you’re somewhere extraordinary Truth be told, this romantic region, with its old stone walls, ponies, and wild landscape, is the very essence of Ireland: “Irish language, song, dance, and literature are all to be found in abundance here,” says Paula Lydon from the Connemara Heritage and History Centre. And she’s not wrong.

What makes Connemara different? That’s easy. Traditions are everywhere. Everything from the food on your plate to the music beating out of pubs is infused with a unique cultural heritage. These traditions are also reflected in the language – Connemara is a Gaeltacht (Irish-speaking) region. You can have a go yourself by practicing a few words “cupla focal”), or even doing a course, but if you don’t fancy it, don’t panic. Everyone speaks English, too.Connemara’s National Park summarises all that makes this region so unique, and a great starting point for exploration has to be the Diamond Hill Loop Walk. Described as “a savage beauty” by wordsmith Oscar Wilde, Connemara can make your heart sing and the rest of the world melt away. It’s rural Ireland at its most dramatic, so absorb it all with a walk into nature. With the Atlantic on one side and the famous peaks of the Twelve Ben Mountains on the other, be prepared to stand in awe. But that’s what Connemara – and Ireland – is all about: letting go of the mundane and filling your heart with something quite remarkable.”

This couldn’t sound more enticing while we’re spending some of our time researching Tom’s ancestral history. What a magical-sounding place to live for almost three months as we conduct the research!

The little family of three politely shared the pellets.  Buckbucks are generally gentle and easy-going.

Here is the link to the house we’ve booked from May 12th to August 9th. We couldn’t be more thrilled to have this exciting opportunity ahead of us. Also, knowing this awaits us makes my recovery all the more motivating and uplifting.


Today, we’ll enjoy a quiet day, listening to Tom’s favorite podcast, “Garage Logic,” broadcast from Minnesota while I perform little tasks around the house as I can do more and more each day.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to those who celebrate and happy birthday to son Richard in Las Vegas, Nevada.

May your day be rich in laughter and merriment!

Photo from one year ago today, March 17, 2018:

Upon closer inspection, it was apparent. The boat trailer couldn’t fit across the Crocodile Bridge, our means of exit after a day in the park. We had taken an alternate route which took several extra hours. For more photos, please click here.

Is Plan B working?…Kissing and hugging…

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He appears well-nourished and healthy.  He doesn’t devour the pellets as quickly as the others.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Little came up on the veranda looking for me, already positioned on his knees for some treats.

How did I get so lucky to have these great doctors here in South Africa? Who would have thunk?

Yesterday when we went to see Dr. Theo check on the infected incisions in both of my legs, he greeted me with a kiss and a hug. He knows how grateful I am that he saved my life.  

I don’t recall a doctor kissing and hugging me in my old life except for an uncle who was a doctor. In the US, this could be construed as sexual harassment and considered totally inappropriate.  

It is common for men and women to greet those they like, love, or admire with the warmest of hugs and kisses. I love this! But, not here in South Africa.

Three female bushbucks are sharing pellets.

There was a time many years ago in Minnesota when my family doctor, Dr. Parsons, hugged me goodbye at my last appointment when he was retiring the next day. I was so touched by the hug that I hadn’t forgotten it two decades later.

I imagine some people prefer not to greet others with such physical warmth and affection.  Those people are easily spotted by their body language or simply tossing out a hand for a handshake. That’s OK too. That degree of affection may not be suitable for everyone.

For me, this warm greeting put me at ease. Of course, I’m concerned about the infections. Who wouldn’t be, especially after this big operation when so much can go wrong for many weeks or months following the surgery.

Dr. Theo Stronkhurst is quite a special human being and physician. He gave me his personal email and phone number, suggesting I call him with any concerns.  He gave me tremendous peace of mind, especially when he’s the man that saved my life.

After examining my legs, he felt I didn’t need to go into the hospital, but to ensure my safety, he took photos of my legs and sent them to the surgeon in Nelspruit.  

A fourth bushbuck enters the garden.  She is the one we call “Friend” since she never has a baby or a mate but hangs around with moms and babies. For all, we know she could be the grandma since her coat is littler and she looks older.

They both agreed I could be treated from here without a hospital stay but must follow all the guidelines we already had in place; the strongest antibiotics suitable for this type of infection to be taken every 12 hours, followed by a dose of prescription probiotics an hour later; a twice-daily antibacterial wash and antibiotic cream followed by the application of sterile bandages until the wounds close. Of course, this includes wearing the compression stockings until bedtime for at least the next two weeks.

As for the walking program, I can begin again as soon as the pain is lessened enough to do so.  In the interim, I must sit with my legs up atop a few pillows and get up frequently for short walks around the house.  

Another thing was to stop fighting taking the non-narcotic pain pills and get on a more regular schedule to “stay ahead” of the pain. Stress and discomfort impede the healing process. The pills make me sleepy and dumb me; I tried to tough it out, which is not recommended after this massive operation. I am totally dedicated to this routine.

This morning when Louise sent a message that there would be a power outage today beginning at 9:00 am, I got up knowing I needed to take off the bandages and send the photos promptly at 10 am. Fortunately, I had enough data left on the SIM card in my phone to send the photos.

Little entered the scene, anxious for more pellets;

I waited patiently for a response after the two doctors reviewed them together. No more than 15 minutes later, Theo sent an email stating I’m good for today, and they were both optimistic I would heal without further intervention. Tomorrow at 10 am, I’ll send more photos of the progression overnight and again wait to hear if I am good to continue as is.  

Knowing these two doctors are taking time out of their own weekends, both Saturday and Sunday, means the world to me. I feel I am in good hands.

After the appointment ended at 1730 hours (5:30 pm), we drove to Jabula to meet Kathy and Don and Linda and Ken for dinner. It was my first time out to dinner since the surgery, and no words can describe how warmly we were greeted with hugs and kisses by owners Dawn and Leon, their excellent staff, Lyn and Melissa, and more, and many patrons who’d dropped in for dinner and drinks. 

Wildebeest Wille gets along with everyone as long as they don’t confront him.

After a fantastic dinner and conversation as always, we headed home to get my feet up, eat my last piece of low-carb cheese pie and watch a few shows on my laptop to definitely be repeated tonight when Tom helps me bake a new pie today. Eating a slice of this pie is helping me maintain my weight which is essential after this surgery.

Tonight Tom is making taco salads on this hot and humid day. That sounds perfect to me!

And thanks to all of our worldwide readers for bearing with me and all of these health-related posts. In time, we’ll be back on the move again, in 56 days, to be exact.

Have a great weekend, and above all, be well.

Photo from one year ago today, March 16, 2018:

This newspaper article appeared in yesterday’s local paper after we attended snake school. Tom did the snake-handling while I took notes and photos. For more details, please click here.

Today’s Plan B…Hospital or no hospital…How did this happen?…

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This morning when we opened the big wood doors, we had a dazzle of zebras waiting for breakfast.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

We were thrilled to see the return of a mating pair of hornbills.

It’s never quite good enough for me to blindly accept a scenario that causes ill health and other problems in our day-to-day lives. I’ve always strived to discover the “why” in a determined attempt to avoid a similar scenario in the future.

As far as the necessity of my having to have coronary bypass surgery, I’ve been on a mission, reading (from reliable sources, not the general public) as much as I can find, listening to medical podcasts, and watching medical videos in what may be a futile attempt to answer the question, “Why me?”

In the realm of things, anyone can wonder why they experienced any problematic situation only to come up empty-handed, leaving the answer to “chance.” But over the years, I’ve learned a hard lesson, as many of us have…when it comes to unpleasant interactions among people..we have the power to avoid emotionally painful situations. We can only control how we feel, not how someone else should feel or behave.

However, when it comes to health, the “why” becomes more complex. Injuries, illness, and medical crises of most types may have been lessened or obliterated by one’s carefulness and diligence.  
Note the two youngsters with little interest in the pellets.

Get sick on a cruise? “Did I fail to wash my hands frequently enough or did I shake hands or hug someone who was carrying germs?”

 Break a leg while skiing? “Was I showing off or taking risks beyond my expertise?”

 Had a heart attack? “What lifestyle changes could I have made for a different outcome?”

 Of course, there are all those dreadful diseases one can acquire where it appears, the patient played no role in developing. Was it heredity, bad luck, or random cases of the universe playing tricks on us? No doubt, we can’t control it all.

But as I look back over the years I have to take full responsibility for my three blocked arteries and the consequences of the necessity of this enormous surgery. I knew about the hereditary factor on my mother’s side of the family, succumbing to hearts attacks, strokes, diabetes, and a myriad of other inflammatory diseases. Why didn’t I do something about that?

 I thought I was on a path to longevity when from a young age I exercised, maintained a healthy diet and weight, didn’t abuse drugs or alcohol, and quit smoking (only occasionally with a glass of wine or a cocktail) decades ago.

 But, stress which plays a role in building plaque in the arteries, typical for Type A personalities like me, was a huge contributor and I made little effort to avert it in my hectic lifestyle before we embarked on this journey.

 In the ’90s our medical plan offered a discount on a full-body arterial scan and foolishly I refused to do it thinking I couldn’t possibly have blocked arteries. Tom went ahead to discover he had zero plaque in his arteries and gained a lot of peace of mind. Did I avoid the test for fear of what may be found? 

 I thought I was exempt from heart disease based on my lifestyle. How wrong I was! Had I known this 20 years ago, would I have been able to change the progression of atherosclerosis? Possibly, to avoid what I’ve been experiencing of late.

So, the infection in both of my legs? Could I have avoided this? I showered when I was told I could. I applied sterile bandages when the wounds were weeping. I walked as directed, took all the medication as directed, and made every effort to rest and sleep.

And then, there were 12.

In the past 24 hours, it dawned on me why I most likely got the infection in my legs. The following notice was posted on Facebook on March 5 notifying local residents that the water supply, although not drinkable by our standards (we only drink purified bottled water), was finally in a safe state, fit for human use.
Here’s the post from that date from a local official:

March 5 at 12:44 PM

WATER TEST RESULTS: As you can see below the water test results of Dec 2018 showed that our water was not fit for human consumption as the coliform markers were too high, which meant fecal contamination. This marker/contamination could have made senior citizens, children, and people with low immune systems sick as per the lab scientists. BUT I had it retested now in Feb 2019 and now it is compliant and fit for human consumption. I also asked them to do ph, chlorine, etc. tests as well to see if our water could be the source of the rash and itching experienced by many owners/visitors. As can be seen, nothing in the water results points to a possible cause for rash/itch. I will, however, take samples personally at different points and have them tested personally to make double sure when I come down next week to Marloth. I will report back to all as to the results. Would I personally drink the water? No. Too much sewerage and waste are being deposited into our rivers in this day and age. But ultimately it is each owner/visitor’s prerogative if they want to drink the water or not. A Health Department representative will meet with me on Monday 11th March at the municipal boardroom in Marloth Park at 10 am to research the rash/itch situation. I will post about this shortly. I will be receiving and posting a monthly water test result for all to peruse.”

Could it be that when returning from the hospital 20 days ago and taking my first shower since February 12th, the day of the surgery (when I was instructed to shower from head to toe three times with a strong anti-bacterial soap) that this dirty water here in Marloth Park entered the still open incisions to cause the infection?

It was only about three days later that I began to feel more pain in my legs. We’d even gone as far as heading to our local doctor two weeks ago when the pain had escalated in my legs since returning to Marloth Park. There was no evidence of infection at that appointment, although the wounds looked bad and felt worse.

I knew about the bad water. I should never have taken the first shower. I should have been using bottled water until the wounds closed. I knew better. Why didn’t I listen to my instincts?

They stayed in the garden for over an hour while Tom continued to toss pellets their way.

Lesson learned?  Yes, those instincts of ours tend to be in our hearts and minds for a reason.  I’ve promised myself to pay more attention, be more mindful, and stop trying to avoid facing uncomfortable facts.

That’s the problem with us “overly bubbly” types. We can easily be accused of putting our heads in the sand. By the way, ostriches do not put their heads in the sand.  Going forward, nor will I.

Plan B for today…at 1645 hours (4:45 pm) today I have an appointment with Dr. Theo (for a second opinion) to see if he thinks I need to go into the hospital. If he says I do, then I will. If not, I’ll continue with the current regimen of antibiotics, probiotics, and twice daily application of an antibiotic wash and cream as directed.  

Now that I know the “why” I can exact the “what” to put all of this behind me in due time.
               

Photo from one year ago today, March 15, 2018:
Four waterbucks were sunning on sandbars on the Crocodile River. For more river photos, please click here.

Trouble with recovery…Cautiously optimistic…Today is the 7 year anniversary of our site….

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A female duiker (notice the one little horn) and a female bushbuck sharing pellets.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

It’s mating time for bushbucks, and this male is checking out his options.

I don’t know where to begin. The recovery from the triple coronary bypass surgery was going as well as could be expected. There were challenges while I was in ICU in the hospital for eight days with irregular heartbeats and blood pressure all over the place and some challenges when we returned to Marloth Park. 

 By the time we left the hospital on February 23rd, 11 days post-surgery, we were ready to tackle my round-the-clock care by my diligent husband Tom, who’s been impeccable in attending to my every need. A professional could not have done a better job.

 As mentioned in earlier posts, the power went out on the first night we were back in our holiday home in the bush. It became so hot in the bedroom, and my feet were burning. Without thinking and awakening Tom to help, I attempted to pull off the compression stockings. This was a horrible idea.

I tore a muscle in my right chest in a flash that made a recovery more difficult than I could ever have imagined. My chest was already excruciatingly painful with the huge incision, my broken sternum, and the holes from the drainage tubes. I stayed cautiously optimistic.

 This event set me back weeks. For at least a week, I couldn’t use my right arm, and it’s only in the past week the pain from the injury became a trickle, not a flood. I could finally eat with a fork. 

Little stopped by for breakfast this morning.

On top of that, the incision in my right thigh has developed a hematoma that bled whenever I moved. My thigh was throbbing and painful, eventually going to Dr. Theo’s office to see if it was infected. He was out of town, but Dr. Phillip saw me and reassured me it wasn’t infected. I kept it bandaged to keep blood from getting all over everything.

 Days later, when we returned to Nelspruit for a checkup with the surgeon, Dr. Naude, he also reassured me there was no infection, and in time, the muscle tear would heal along with everything else. I stayed cautiously optimistic.

 When the walking program escalated as required, from 20 minutes to 40 minutes a day, I noticed the incisions in my lower legs became painful and would crack, ooze, and bleed. Supposedly, this was “normal” during the healing process…the skin surrounding the incisions became very tight, perhaps a good sign of healing.

 But, when they were bleeding through the compression stockings about six days ago, I became concerned something wasn’t right when there was so much pain when walking and when wearing the compression stockings. Also, it was pure hell when Tom had to put the compression stockings on me each morning and remove them at night when the seepage stuck to the stockings. He was cautious, and yet I writhed in pain each time.

 Yesterday, around 1400 hours, Tom and I went into the bedroom for a short nap with the aircon on. My legs were hurting badly, and I couldn’t find a comfortable position for the nap. Besides, they had begun to look red and inflamed.  I left the bedroom and called the doctor, who asked I take photos of both legs and send them by email or WhatsApp.

 Within 20 minutes of sending the photo, the doctor’s office called back to tell me that both of my legs were infected. He prescribed antibiotics, probiotics, a sterile cleaning solution, and a cream. They explained if there was no improvement in 36 hours (Friday morning), we had to return to Nelspruit for me to be admitted to the hospital for intravenous antibiotics. This was nothing to play around with after this big surgery. My heart sank.

Little sharing pellets with two bushbucks.  He’s such a gentle little soul.

Tom dashed out the door to head to the pharmacy in Komatipoort. About 10 minutes later, friends Kathy and Linda stopped by to see how I was doing and kept me company while Tom was gone. 

After they left, Tom made a nice dinner of chicken flattie and vegetables. The flattie was small, and we each ate half of it, him the white meat and me the dark…a match made in heaven, in more than one way.

 Neither of us slept well. Tom finally dozed off around 2:00 am, and I did the same at about 4:00 am. I kept thinking about taking the second dose of antibiotics as prescribed 12 hours after the first dose, around 5:30 am. Plus, I needed to get up to use the other products as prescribed. I never went back to sleep. It will be a tiring day for both of us.

 Am I cautiously optimistic? Yes, but we’ll see how the next 24 hours roll out. If you don’t see a post tomorrow around this time, you’ll know we had to go to Nelspruit.  But, if we do have to go, most likely, this time, I’ll be able to continue to post.  Please keep an eye out for me.

 Ironically, today is the seventh anniversary of our first post uploaded on March 15, 2012.  It’s hard for us to believe it’s been so many years. But as long as our loyal readers/friends continue to share this journey with us, through thick and thin, we will continue to write.

 Enjoy the day!

Photo from one year ago today, March 14, 2018:

Big Daddy Kudu visits almost daily.  Last night he stopped by while we were dining outdoors. For more photos, please click here. 

Crime in Marloth Park…Sad to hear there’s “trouble in Paradise”…

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This morning, we were greeted by four zebras.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

An adorable male bushbuck, a regular visitor, stopped by this morning.

Last night was my first social outing since the coronary bypass surgery four weeks ago. We had a lovely dinner and evening at Lynne and Mick’s bush home with Kathy, Don, Linda, and Ken. It felt good to get out, and we managed to stay until the others decided to call it a night. 

The only discomfort I experienced was my legs which I propped up on our chill box near me. The ride on the bumpy dirt road wasn’t too bad, especially since I had a soft pillow to hold close to my chest as we encountered one pothole after another.

They anxiously await pellets but then fight with one another over them.

I’d hoped to take photos, but it was dar,k, and everyone was already engaged in lively conversation when we arrived. Kathy, Don, Linda, and Ken had arrived earlier in the day from a five-day raptor course in Kruger National Park, and we all listened intently to their story and adventure. I didn’t feel like interrupting the flow of the conversation to take photos. That’s how it goes sometimes.

 Lynne and Mick are the most avid “birders” we’ve met, and it was fun to hear all of them gushing over the wide array of raptors there are in South Africa. This truly is a wildlife haven, one of the best in the world. 

A handsome male bushbuck by the cement pond.

Our love of wildlife is a commonality we all share, and there’s never a moment’s silence when we all get together and share our stories of various sightings, among many other topics of conversation. Each day brings new surprises and sightings for each of us.

For many of us living in Marloth Park, we often mistake the serene beauty of the park for being a remote and safe location. But beauty and reverence for wildlife have nothing to do with the unpredictability of humans who perpetrate crimes with little to no regard for human life.

With ample vegetation after many days and nights of soaking rain, the zebras still love pellets.

Each week stats are posted on the Facebook page entitled “Marloth Park…Friends of Marloth Park” by Nadine, the head of CPF (Community Police Forum). It was startling to read the post making me more diligent than ever. Please read the post below:

“Good evening, everyone. Apologies for not posting stats last week as I did not attend the Polsec meeting as I was in Nelspruit.

Stats from 25 February to 10 March 2019
Raasblaar – Malicious damage by tenants. They were evicted.
Klipspringer – Burglary – TV, Alarm not set.
Swartwitpens – Burglary – TV,
Sekelbos – Murder due to a domestic dispute. I cannot give any more info—current Serious case 1. Arrest made. Thank you to Field and Securicon Paramedics as well as Saps for all your assistance. To Securicon for your quick response to your client. They are much appreciated. The witness and family thank you for all you did to assist.
We also had a fire on the 3rd of March as there were no injuries or death. Saps do not open the case due to it being Natural Causes. (Lighting)
Burglary on Kudu shed broken into. Goods recovered by Field Security. (Well done)
We want to warn owners to please lock their possessions away. Join a security company and set your alarm when you are not home. Set your alarm at night when you go to bed.
More cases have been reported to Saps on Sunday, but no case numbers as yet.
We sadly had a person pass away from a possible heart attack in Spinnekop on Wednesday. Again we thank Field and Securicon Paramedics for responding so quickly and Graeme Altenkirk for applying CPR until Paramedics arrived.
To the families that tragically lost loved ones, on behalf of the whole community of Marloth, we are so sorry for your loss and our Sincere Condolences to you.
Many other call-outs came over the past week for CPF and Law Enforcement. We were kept very busy with fights, domestic violence, theft by staff. Thank you, team, for the hours you spent running around all times of day and night.

Have a good week all. Be vigilant and report suspicious activity immediately to your security.”Soon, we’ll be facing yet another holiday period in South Africa, beginning on March 18th and ending on April 1st.  During these periods, we must be extra diligent in securing our belongings, turning on the alarm system (which we always do), and reporting any suspicious behavior of any tourists or residents.

During holiday periods, we see fewer animals that have been plentiful these past weeks.  Some, not all, tourists feed the animals toxic human foods, which can be fatal. Animals’ digestive systems are unlike humans, and foods such as corn, sweets, and chips may cause serious illness or death.
It’s fun to watch them interact.

Plus, Oliphant, speeding on the paved road is often responsible for killing a dozen or more animals during any holiday season. Animals are constantly walking or running across dirt roads as well. Safe driving is a must.

We often see (as we’ve mentioned in the past) young children driving cars, trucks, and SUVs while sitting on the parent’s lap in the driver’s seat. Children’s reflexes aren’t as quick as an adult’s, and they are not qualified or experienced to be driving, which is dangerous to both wildlife and humans alike.

We can only hope and pray this upcoming holiday period will be safe.  As we see from the above report, even non-holiday periods pose risks to residents in many ways.

We thank the volunteers such as Nadine, Patty, and other CPF members who donate their time, gas, and efforts to ensure safety in the park, along with the security companies who are fastidious in their response to any incidents.

Have a safe day!

Photo from one year ago today, March 13, 2018:

From Part 2, snake school: When “capturing” the Black Mamba, it is imperative to immobilize the head close to the ground and raise the tail. Tom managed to do this while it was desperately attempting to escape. The Black Mamba is the fastest snake on the planet. For more photos, please click here.

Out to dinner at friend’s bush home for first time since surgery…A little self-conscientious about the scars…

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Nyala was thrilled we had more pellets for him.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

We don’t usually see a lot of young male bushbucks. But, this adorable fellow with his budding horns was a sight to see.

Tonight, Lynne and Mick are hosting a dinner party at their bush home for a total of eight to include; Kathy, Don, Linda, Ken and Tom, and me. This will be my first time out socializing since returning (to Marloth Park) from the hospital on Saturday, February 23, a mere 20 days ago.

When Lynne stopped by a few days ago to loan me some pajama bottoms and a few other loose-fitting clothes, she tentatively invited us to hers and Mick’s home for tonight’s dinner party.

She was tentative based on her desire to keep me from feeling obligated to join the evening’s festivities if I wasn’t quite up to it yet and that we could let her know at the last minute if I wasn’t feeling well enough to attend.  I thought for a minute and said, “No, we can commit now. We will be there!”

He and this duiker got along well while eating pellets.

This gave me a goal to work toward for a few days since there were a few factors I needed to consider, such as what I’d wear, and I could put myself together well enough to feel like being out and about?

 Now, keep in mind, these are all close friends, and how I look, what I wear, and whether or not I drink wine is irrelevant to them. I know this. But, I’m “me,” and no surgery, no looking tired is going to keep me from being myself. I decided to give it a go.

 Since we have a dinner reservation for Jabula for Friday night, this would be a good “trial run.” Sure, as Tom says with a smile on his face, “There’s some vanity in that equation.” I know this and accept this as who I am and who I’ve always been…a bit vain, always striving to look and feel my very best.  

He’s less shy around us now, coming close to the veranda.

I’m 71 years old. There’s no changing me now!  So, kindly keep this in mind as I continue with this very personal, revealing story. Many, if not most of you, would handle this differently. That’s great. But that’s not me. That’s OK. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us so fascinating to one another.

 Thus the issues were wrapped around two things:
1.  What would I wear when all the pants I have are in the jeans category in one way or another? At this point, jeans rub against the painful incisions and cause them to bleed. I’m not a “dress” person, so I have no comfy flowing dress that would fit the bill.
2.  I don’t want the ugly scar on my chest that comes up to that little circle at the base of one’s throat. To me, it’s pretty ugly, still swollen and red.  Perhaps over time, it will improve, but I’m realistic in acknowledging that its appearance is here to stay. I can live with this…good grief. I’m alive! But, I don’t want this showing when we go out and about in the world.
3.  The oozing bleeding scars on both of my legs were running from my ankle to my upper thigh (actually two incisions) and the other on the opposite leg from ankle to knee. They look terrible right now as they struggle to heal, and the pain can be fierce and throbbing. If it weren’t for these incisions in my legs, I’d feel perfect.  The chest incision is healing rapidly at this point, four weeks today from the date of surgery.

We can’t get over how handsome he is.

Bottom line? Why don’t I want these showing when I’m out and about, often meeting new people? I don’t want people who are curious (nosey) by nature asking me, “what happened?” I don’t feel I have to get into this with people I don’t know.  Hiding the scars seems to be an excellent solution to this concern.

 How do I hide my legs when all the pants I have are either short to the knee or Capri length, except for a few insect repellent safari pants?  I don’t think that the embedded repellent should be touching these open wounds at this time.  Plus, I prefer not to dress as if I’m going on a safari when I’m not.

 It’s not as easy as heading to a local clothing shop and purchasing a few new items.  I’ve checked out these shops on many occasions, and all I’ve seen are clothes entirely unsuitable for my long legs and my age.

Tom broke up a raw carrot and tossed out pieces to him.  He loved it!

Fortunately, Lynne loaned me a pair of “harem” type pants which I’ll wear tonight and maybe again on Friday evening. These pants have an elasticized waistline, and thus I can adjust them for length (I’m taller than Lynne), fully covering the compression stockings (two more weeks for these) and, therefore, the leg scars.

 What to wear on the top? The pants are deep red and black. I have a black tee-shirt that I love in stretchy cotton, but it’s a “v” neckline, leaving the raised red scar prominent. I considered purchasing some infinity scarves, but I’m not a scarf person as much as I’ve tried to be one. I’m terrible at tying proper knots on regular scarves.

 The black tee-shirt is my only option. But I had a plan. What if I wear the tee-shirt backward, which in doing so, will entirely hide the scar? You know how, on occasion, you put a tee-shirt on backward and feel as if you’re choking? Well, I decided that if I could get used to a scarf, I could get used to wearing a backward tee-shirt.

It was beautiful to see him three out of four days.

This morning when I dressed, I put on a blue tee-shirt backward. It looked perfect, like a round neck tee-shirt instead of a “v” or scoop neck. I can do this.

 Now, several hours later, I’ve already forgotten about my backward tee-shirt, and now going forward, I’ll do this when we go out, not when we’re staying in. This made me jump for joy.

 One more issue I have to figure out by tonight is the “bra” thing. I only have three identical VS underwire bras, same size, exact fit. Whenever we get to the US, I replace these for three more, tossing the old ones. Amazingly, they hold up very well, showing little to no signs of wear and tear, especially since they never go into a clothes dryer (we rarely have one of these).

 I haven’t tried putting on a bra yet. But I will tonight. I’m not entirely comfortable going out bra-less. I may have done this in the ’70s, but not so much since then. It’s not trendy for us older women to go bra-less in public, and I doubt it will ever be.  Right?

When he was done visiting us, he headed back to the bush to continue with his day.

I didn’t feel like giving the bra a trial run this morning, but I guess I’ll see how it goes when I dress for tonight. If the bra is not comfortable on the deep and long incision in my chest, I’ll forgo the bra. Plus, I’ve lost several kilos (pounds), and it won’t be as noticeable as it would have been a few months ago.

So, there’s my immediate and long-term plan. Of course, when purchasing new clothing in the future, I’ll simply have to see what makes me feel comfortable and like my old self depending on how the scars look by the next time we’re in the US, and I shop, sometime in November 2019.

 The hair, the makeup? That’s easy. I’ve always been quick in putting myself together, especially now that I can raise my arms over my head which was difficult if not impossible a few weeks ago.

 Maybe tonight I’ll be ambitious and we’ll take a few photos to share in tomorrow’s post. It’s about time we make an appearance even if it’s off from photos of a few months ago.

 Be well. Be happy.

      Photo from one year ago today, March 12, 2018:

One year ago, we attended a snake-handling school. Tom is preparing to capture a puff adder. Although puff adders have a reputation for moving slowly, generally,  they won’t bite unless agitated as is the case with most venomous snakes. Often people are bitten from accidentally stepping on them or encountering them unexpectedly…or foolishly trying to handle them without proper knowledge. For more such photos, please click here.

Close encounters of the human kind…How did we get so lucky?…Monday morning mongoose mania…

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A mongoose is sitting on a step while waiting for eggs.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Mom and three babies…the fourth baby warthog has been missing for a week.  It’s sad to think about what has happened to her.
We returned from the hospital to Marloth Park on February 23rd, 16 days ago.  During that first week, I was a mess, and we didn’t see many friends while I was struggling so much, other than Louise and Danie and Kathy and Linda.


 Over this past week, we’ve had a steady stream of friends stopping by to see how I’m doing. No words express how grateful we are to have made such wonderful friends here in Marloth Park.

 Tomorrow night, Tuesday, we’re invited to dinner at Lynne and Mick’s home along with Kathy, Don, Linda, and Ken. This will be the first time out socializing since the surgery on February 12th.

This particular band of mongooses has been here many times.  They knew exactly where to wait for Tom to deliver the eggs.

We’ve been out before this when we had to return to Nelspruit for an appointment with the surgeon on March 1st. The long drive surprised me as tolerable when Tom drove like a champion keeping the little red car as steady as possible.  

 Tomorrow, I am heading to Lynne and Mick’s home, although only two minutes “as the crow flies,” will require some driving on the outrageously bumpy dirt roads in Marloth Park. I’ll bring along a pillow to hold against my chest to soften the blows of the ruts and potholes in the road.  

 Then, on Friday night, Kathy, Don, Linda, Ken, and the two of us are meeting at Jabula for dinner before Linda and Ken head back to their home in Johannesburg.  

The baby mongooses are not quite sure about the eggs in the bowl.

Most likely, we won’t see Linda and Ken again before we leave for Ireland. They have a tremendously busy travel schedule, visiting family in the US and Australia over the next few months. Kathy and Don will come and go between their homes in Pretoria and Marloth Park, so most likely, we’ll have several more opportunities to spend time with them.

 Lynne and Mick stopped by on Saturday for a pleasant visit. It was great to see them.  Had we left for Kenya as planned, we wouldn’t have seen them here again due to their month-long self-drive and tour of Namibia on a major bird-watching adventure.

 When Lynne read in a previous post that I only had two pairs of pants to wear now as I recover, both of which are very hot and uncomfortable, yesterday she returned with a stack of comfy, soft cotton pajama bottoms, pants, and a dress I can wear until I can start wearing jeans again. How thoughtful and generous is that?

They went as far as beginning to climb the veranda’s steps to get our attention.

And Kathy, good grief! She’s gone over the top during this entire ordeal of ensuring I had everything I could need or want while providing, along with Linda, an enormous dose of emotional support, friendship, and love.

 Uschi and Evan stopped by between the angiogram and the surgery to say goodbye before embarking on their month-long holiday. But surely, we’ll see them again when they return.

 Today, Lesley and Andrew surprised us with a thoughtful visit to offer their love, support, and offer to help in any way possible. It was beautiful to see them as well.

They came to the garden from all directions.

As busy as they are, Dawn and Leon from Jabula never faltered in their love and support during this challenging period.

Then, of course, there’s Louise and Danie who’s thoughtfulness extends well beyond their role as our property managers, who’ve become loving and dear friends. The flowers they had waiting for me when we returned from the hospital, the impeccable house, the grocery shopping, and literally every possible need covered in one way or another. Currently, they are on holiday in Cape Town, and we look forward to their return. 

Once the bowl of eggs is licked clean, they start looking at us for more. This time Tom complied, bringing out some whole eggs.

How did we get so lucky to have so many kind and caring people in our lives? Add the fabulous people who’ve stayed in touch, some daily like our dear girl Okey Dokey, who’s texted me daily to offer words of encouragement and who sent me the adorable stuffed “Jessica the Hippo,” which I’ve used over and over again to support my chest as I moved about, coughed or sneezed.

And then, there’s been the endless stream of messages from our dear readers/friends from all over the world who remained steadfast in their prayers and well wishes.

They scattered about, looking for more eggs.

Of course, my family has been there for me, along with many members of Tom’s large family offering prayers and good wishes for a speedy recovery. It goes on and on. I’m in awe of the kindness and generosity of spirit that so many have freely offered during this trying time.  

Merely saying “thank you” doesn’t express the depth of appreciation both Tom and I feel over the outpouring of prayers and warm wishes by so many special people. 

 Although not a story in itself, today’s post provides me with an opportunity to let all these amazing people know how much they are appreciated and how much they all mean to us.

Photo from one year ago today, March 11, 2017:

Jonas, a youthful-looking 40-year old owns several businesses and has done well in his life considering many hardships. Many years ago, he was attacked by a lion in Marloth Park and lived to tell the story. For the complete account of this frightening event, please click here.