Change

I've been thinking a bit about the word change and how since it's been attached to the climate, it has a bad connotation. But seriously, isn't that what life is all about?  Saturday morning began with torrential downpours, however, by three in the afternoon, the day was glorious with abundant wind rustling the leaves in the trees behind our place along with warm sunshine casting long shadows.

Our Scripture reading yesterday from Isaiah 35 was chock full of changes, both in nature and humanity.

The desert and the parched land will be glad;

    the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom;

    it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,

    the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;

they will see the glory of the Lord,

    the splendor of our God.

3 

Strengthen the feeble hands,

    steady the knees that give way;

4 

say to those with fearful hearts,

    “Be strong, do not fear;

your God will come,

    he will come with vengeance;

with divine retribution

    he will come to save you.”

5 

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened

    and the ears of the deaf unstopped.

6 

Then will the lame leap like a deer,

    and the mute tongue shout for joy.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness

    and streams in the desert.

7 

The burning sand will become a pool,

    the thirsty ground bubbling springs.

In the haunts where jackals once lay,

    grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

Sorry, there will be technical difficulties henceforth as it is rare that I actually cut and paste something which means I don't know what I'm doing! There was a time, however, when most things were not difficult, mostly because I was younger. And is there anything more demonstrative of change than aging? One day I am walking like a champ, the next, my right knee is killing me for no obvious reason.  

Alas, what got me thinking this deep you ask? 

Wait, before I go on, don't you absolutely love the idea of the lame leaping like a deer? There was a time when I'd not seen that happen, but now that I have, oh my! Although this isn't the best photograph, it gives one a notion of the movement.

Then too, I'd never seen a crocus flower before, but in Vancouver, when they just starting popping out of the ground, I watched in amazement. 

Where this whole thing about changes originated is a dream I had the other night about doing an IVP, which stands for Intravenous Pyelogram. For those not familiar with Radiology lingo, that procedure, at one time, was the gold standard for diagnosing a kidney stone. 

Now it has been eons since last I took regular x-rays, but it is not something you ever forget, or dream of on occasion.

I was but six weeks post high school graduation, 17 1/2 years old, when I began my training at Winter Park Memorial Hospital. I suppose that is one big change, what was once a small community hospital is now a part of a mega brand. While we parked in a dirt parking lot, that has most definitely changed! As has taking x-rays. To someone who trained back when an automatic processor for developing took 3 1/2 minutes to instantaneous results readily available today, well that is amazing. Of course, prior to automatic processing, you dipped the x-ray film directly in the solutions and hung them to dry. We had that equipment in surgery one place I worked which was actually very helpful as you could dip, look and hope for something that would not cause the Orthopedic surgeon to scream at you. 

When I began my training I had not the foggiest notion of what I was getting myself into. Barium Enemas? I didn't even know what an enema was! Watching an autopsy performed as part of my training? Seriously? Yes indeed, they were serious. Once I fainted as I held the arms of a patient who was having a spinal tap done. Learning to give direct 50 cc injections with a 19 gauge needle? Yes again. In those days it was so much more than it is today, primarily because there were only two imaging modalities...x-ray and nuclear medicine. As students we had to learn something like fifty different procedures, how to both position the patient and the seemingly infinite number of machine settings. I needn't tell you that it was very challenging because each patient is different, requiring adjustments to the technique. And then there was that 3 1/2 minute wait to see if your films were good enough, or had to be redone, much to both the techs and patients chagrin. 

Then there were the portable machines which would be unrecognizable to anyone today. One was about five feet tall, weighing what seemed like a ton that had to be wheeled to the patients' bedside. Just last week I saw a couple of guys wheeling a portable x-ray machine out of Westminster Towers, pushing the tiny thing with one hand! Amazing! 

Our class of six girls wore white dresses, hose, and shoes that had to be polished to a gleam. One of our classmates was actually kicked out of our twenty four month program for having a job at Sears on the weekend, a big no-no; to this day I don't really know how anyone found out that Suzy was working. We were at the hospital 40 hours a week, just like a regular job, with classes all afternoon, after spending the morning working on the "floor" as we called it. The only job you were allowed to have was being a patient transporter on the weekends which, needing money, I took advantage of, at least once working 7 days a week for about six weeks. You know, one thing I needed money for were those damn stockings that were constantly running and cost far more than what I could afford!

And then "pantsuits" were introduced! A radical idea indeed.

Which is all to say that when I see healthcare workers wearing wrinkled scrubs with cows on them and dirty tennis shoes, it always gives me pause. I'm not proud of that, but I confess it is true.

We married following my graduation in July when I was actually making money to the tune of $3.25 an hour.  So when, during my time selling photography, people frequently asked if I had always been a photographer,  I replied, "yes, I just used bigger equipment."

One of the things I most love about being in nature is watching the world change before my eyes, like the sudden appearance of the Hooded Merganser that showed up this past week. 

The rising of another full moon at dusk, especially with the what I'm calling a halo effect.

We don't get much of an Autumn this far south aside from the Cypress trees becoming rust colored before the needles drop.

While walking at Lake Davis we observed one of the swans over in the other park wondering why it was so. Walking over that way, we overhead a man talking about how strange it was. Sadly, as it turns out, the mate was hit by a car the previous week. Whereas when there was the big swan fight I showed you in late Spring, there is but one swan remaining. I should have called that post,  A Tale of Two Swans! Hindsight my friends.

Leaving the park behind, I went to Florida Mall last week and some things haven't changed, like children still visiting Santa, albeit in a much fancier set up than in years past.

Visiting this shop, I was dumbfounded at the abundance of ornaments.

How do they get them to stay? Another day Bruce and I went to Millenia Mall, strolling along looking at the windows, we came across Anthropologie. It is a well known fact that I am a serious lover of the color orange, but for me, it just does not go with Christmas, although their designers tend to disagree. Or so it seems.

So while I'm not so keen on orange as part of Christmas decorations, it should not surprise me in the least. 

Am I correct in assuming that each reader has their own story to tell and the main theme 

would be change? Correct me if I'm wrong.

your friend,

Gail