Communion Of Dreams


Playing a little catch-up…

…with some of my favorite blogs, I came across this from about 10 days ago:

Dammit Jim, I’m the Doctor!

What happens when you take the two greatest things in the entire Universe and put them together?

This.

If you are a Trek and a Who fan, then watch the whole thing, until the very end of the teaser for Part II. It is without any fear of exaggeration or contradiction when I say that it is the best thing ever to have happened ever in the history of everness. Ever.

OK, allowing for Phil’s little-girl squeee! of all things Dr. Who – related, he’s mostly right.  It is pretty damn good.

Jim Downey



Dalek, version 0.001a
March 5, 2008, 10:09 pm
Filed under: BoingBoing, Doctor Who, Humor, Science Fiction

Rufus Terrill has had it with the drug dealers, petty thieves and vandals he says roam the streets outside his downtown Atlanta bar, O’Terrills. Instead of calling the police or hiring private security guards, Terrill built his own security robot.

From the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Complete with vid. Thing looks like it was inspired by the Daleks of Dr. Who fame. Hilarious.

Jim Downey

(Via BoingBoing, with some damned funny comments.)



And now, The Migraine.
February 8, 2008, 6:19 am
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Doctor Who, General Musings, Health, Hospice, Migraine, Predictions, Sleep

I was half expecting it.

As mentioned previously, I suffer from migraines upon occasion. Perhaps a bit surprisingly, the last couple of months have been fairly light in that regard. But I have one now, of the “stress-release” variety.

Last night, for the first time in the better part of a week, we cooked dinner and relaxed watching a couple of episodes of Doctor Who (more on my getting acquainted with the new series later). I had a couple of scotches, but that’s not a lot for me over the course of the evening. I fell asleep later in front of the computer, catching up on news of the world. In other words, I was starting to spin down from recent events.

I went up and went to bed, while my good lady wife did the dishes and caught up on some email. I woke sometime after midnight (not sure when) from the pain of the migraine. Got up, went and took some OTC stuff I hoped would shut it down, went back to bed. Woke up again about 4:30, pain worse. Got up and took some more OTC stuff and something stronger to give it a boost. Unfortunately, those meds include a fair amount of caffeine, so getting back to sleep was not much of an option. I laid down, let them work for a while, then got up.

It may seem odd to you that I would be suffering a stress-release migraine going into what is likely to be a fairly stressful and emotional weekend, what with the memorial service tomorrow and all. I’m fairly introverted, and the prospect of a large public gathering and all that concentrated emotional outpouring is rather daunting.

But that is nothing in comparison to the stresses of caring for someone with dementia who is dying. Even now, all my instincts and conditioned reflexes are concerned first with taking into account where Martha Sr is, who is keeping track of her, what needs to be done next in the usual care regimen. Yesterday, returning from errands I needed to run, I glanced at her bedroom window as I drove up the driveway, to see whether my wife had her up from her afternoon nap and had opened the drapes. This morning before grinding my coffee I went to shut the door from the kitchen in order to muffle the sound and not disturb her sleep. And those are just two of the dozens of examples I could cite from the last 24 hours. It will take months, at least, to set aside these reflexes, to fully become ‘free’ of the ingrained habits of years.

So, yeah, I have a migraine. Not horrid, with the meds I have in me so far, though this post may be a bit less coherent than it could be. I should still be able to play house-elf today in preparation for the visitors we will have this weekend, and to make the memorial book for the service tomorrow. If it doesn’t get a lot worse I should even be able to function well during the public outing tomorrow (I got a lot of experience with that sort of thing while I owned the art gallery). But there it is – perhaps the first marker of the real change in my life.  We are, after all, born in pain.

Jim Downey