Respite in the wilderness…

Dear Friends,

I hope you all had a great week! Hubby and I had a wonderful time at our favorite lake. It felt good to unplug, to just be together, to read, and enjoy good wine and coffee along with the stunning views and tranquility. We also did some light hiking and walking around, but with each step, I was mindful of where my right foot landed. And gratefully, I had zero pain.

For those of you who tent camp, you know what the adventure entails. The experience is relaxing once the ‘wilderness home’ is set up, but until then, it takes a lot of effort. We were lucky to reserve our favorite site that offered a short walk down to the lake. And though the weather report didn’t indicate rain, several thunderstorms entertained when light rain turned into downpours! But we stayed dry under the easy-up and our backpacking tent kept the deluge of rain from seeping into our sleeping bags and clothes. In the mornings, when the days looked like they’d be glorious, I stole a few moments, sitting by the shore, jotting down thoughts in my journal. But I don’t have anything completed, so I’m sharing photos for now:

“The mountains are calling and I must go.”
~ John Muir

silly, silly selfie
light rain before the storm

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

July 5 – Journal Entry

Dear Family and Friends,

What I’m posting today is not something I normally share. Maybe some will think this isn’t a good idea. There is no poem or fiction story. I’m sharing something personal but definitely not for sympathy. More for a cathartic purpose, a release, and maybe, hopefully, one of you will be able to shed some light for me. This is kind of long, so I understand if you don’t have time to read. But if you do, and you have knowledge of what I’m talking about, I’d be grateful to read your comments. By the way, I may regret posting this, so it could end up deleted.

Dear Journal,

They say that writing is therapeutic, so here goes…

Over two months ago, I started experiencing a lightning bolt jolt of pain through my right heel. The pain came in spurts, any time, any level of pain, and any frequency. They’d last only for seconds. Some jolts were mild, some were moderate, but one Thursday, the jolts began with my morning coffee around 5:30 am and continued throughout the day until around 1:30 pm when they finally mellowed. They came in series of 7 or 8 jolts every twenty minutes or so, Boom! Boom! Boom! One after the other with the intensity I have never felt before until this day. The jolts were debilitating. I stayed home from work, and admittedly, I was in tears and my nerves were on edge. I tried to stay calm, but calm was difficult to attain. I began to anticipate the jolts, which paralyzed me from doing anything, reading, writing, even blogging. The degree of this level of heel pain was new, so I emailed my doctor, and she ordered x-rays.

I had to get these x-rays done on this day when the jolts were at their strongest degree of pain, which honestly, felt like an 11! But I was afraid to drive because with this pain being in my right foot, my accelerating and braking foot, I feared a strong jolt would occur while driving, causing me to have a knee-jerk reaction, and who knows what would happen. So, my husband took me to get x-rays. The next day, my doctor said that the results indicated a heel bursa. I didn’t think so. Years ago, I had an irritated bursa in my hip, which went away over time, and this felt more ‘nervy.’ And her assumption didn’t even match the medical results I read on my medical online account that I couldn’t quite decode. She referred me to a podiatry specialist.

My podiatrist said that it wasn’t a bursa, and after tapping my heel and listening to my symptoms, here’s what he said, “I really don’t know what this is.” It’s not Planter Fasciitis or Neuropathy. I was praying for a diagnosis, cause, and treatment, so these words were beyond disheartening. By this time, I had been wearing Hoka tennis shoes and heel cups (never heard of them before) for a few weeks, creating more support for my foot. He said to continue wearing them, rest, and ice, but he was going to refer me to neurology to have my nerves tested. When he described the process for that, I almost passed out. By the way, am I the first person to tell him about this kind of heel pain? I find that hard to believe. How could he not have any idea?

Then after hearing my case, neurology told him that it wasn’t necessary for me to have a consultation with them. My podiatrist labeled my condition as Baxters Neuritis and prescribed Gabapentin to mitigate the pain and to be taken each night, low dosage. A tiny part of me thinks he’s reaching for a label to appease me because when I Googled Baxters Neuritis (of course, I did), the symptoms didn’t align with mine. Maybe cases vary, I don’t know.

So, fast forward three weeks, and I’ve been living in Hokas (now have 3 pair: white, black, and bright blue), except for sleeping and showering. Luckily, I’ve had several pain-free or I should say, jolt-free days, and 1 jolt on other days. None at night, so I’ve been able to sleep. Because the intense pain never visited again, I have not taken the meds. I’ll take them if I need them. The lessening pain has me feeling hopeful.

With all this said, I know most of us deal with some kind of pain. Pain that will fade over time, heal with Motrin or other meds. Some people are handed a life and death diagnosis. This is not life or death. But because it’s nerve related, it may be chronic, and because it’s in my foot, it impacts my ability to walk Copper, our lab, to walk for exercise, and simply to walk from the front door to my car, or at work, or from my car to the grocery store, let alone through the store.

This random, bizarre, unpredictable pain impacts my life with my husband, our love for hiking and backpacking. We have a trip planned in August, in six weeks. If you asked me today if I could do it, I’d say no, because I’m limiting time on my feet to hopefully rest the nerve, and dare I say, heal? I can’t even walk around the block, and I don’t know if this will ever heal. And this thought breaks my heart because I feel like I’m breaking my husband’s heart. Now in our early sixties, we want to hike and backpack for as long as we can. And if we had to stop now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. We could still camp. I can function – the bright side. And of course, he doesn’t see it as me breaking his heart. He feels helpless when I’m in pain, and since my tolerance is pretty high, he knows when I’m truly hurting. Of course, he’d be disappointed if we couldn’t hike or backpack again, but he cares about me first and foremost. Just so you know. But I look at the big picture and feel like a burden. I really do. I’m aware of my foot every day, sounds funny, doesn’t it? But really, I’m babying it, handling that nerve with kid gloves.

Yesterday, July 4th, was an anomaly. I had three series of jolts throughout the day. I analyzed and asked, “Why?” I’m wearing good shoes, walking less, icing, resting…but I am living, so I am walking, just not as much. I’m not sitting on my butt. I’m still working, and I’ve walked Copper, but the walks have been truncated. Fortunately, he’s older now, so he’s just happy to get out and sniff and pee. But just when I was feeling hopeful, I felt like I took five steps backward yesterday.

Anyway, I’ve tried to keep a positive mindset. On the pain-free days, I am grateful. And when just one jolt comes and it’s mild, I am grateful. But it’s not only the intense pain that is paralyzing, it’s the “Why?” when I’ve been doing everything I should be doing. And then, it’s the anticipating for another jolt to follow, until I do some deep breathing and move on with whatever I’m doing at the time.

Miracles happen, right? Well, I’m also realistic. And this isn’t life and death, but even though it’s not, it’s impactful to me, to my husband, to my dog, and to my future. Our feet are necessary for everyday tasks. If it sounds like I’m whining, please forgive me. Please understand whining about poor me is not my intention. Writing about this is therapy. I’m not one to complain, and I’m compassionate for those in worse, worse, situations. But this is my new pain, my new change, and that shouldn’t be negated either. I continue to take one day at a time, pray for a pain-free day, and deep breathe when necessary, and hope for a miracle. But if that miracle isn’t meant to be, then I’ll have to modify my activities. My husband and I will have to make changes. I just bought an exercise bike (cheaper than a pool because swimming is good exercise), so hubby and I will set that up this week. An option. Moving forward. The only option is to move forward.

Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for reading if you had the time. This is raw writing, no editing, so if you see mistakes, please forgive those, too.
With love, Lauren ❤️

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

The Blue Down Jacket

The radio belted out “Joy to the World!”
You were a teenage boy, but on this
Christmas morning in ‘75, excitement
buzzed! Your dad watched and listened,
relaxed in his corner chair, but your mom
played Santa, just as jolly! The first time
we met. Do you remember?

You and your dad hiked Half Dome that year,
then…the many trips we booked…
those rocky inclines had my sleeves shaking!
Hiking to Italy Pass, 12,000 feet at the top!
We did it! Trekking through the Trinity Alps,
Thousand Island Lake in the Sierra.
And Mount Shasta!
I kept you warm when the air was ice.

What a team we made, and I couldn’t believe
how beautiful the world could be…

Then with the years your adolescence faded like
my blue dye, but I stayed loyal. Why wouldn’t I?
You are my brother, even still, all grown up
with a family of your own.

Lucky is what I feel because ages ago, I thought
I’d be buried beneath piles of clothes at the bottom
of a bag to be given away.
But mostly, I feel privileged for my significance.
I recall her vividly.
She left this world too young, too soon.

You see, when we hang out,
your memories transport you
to that morning when her laughter was music,
her smile was sunlight,
her energy as vibrant as “Joy to the World.”
You travel to the special place in your mind
when your mom was still in your life.

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.
My husband’s loyal blue down jacket. ❤️

The Friends We Meet in Unexpected Places

We spotted him on the still water, appearing to be content resting on the surface smooth as satin, even posing for a few photos as I clicked away. Although I’d say he was a bit camera shy with his backside facing us! Even so, we thanked our quiet, and seemingly, curious friend, watching us intently, turning his neck now and then to get a better look. And while no feathered company was in sight, we didn’t think he was lonely, choosing to be in this stunningly beautiful place for a purpose without distractions. Perhaps he was standing guard, protecting his mate nearby. Or pondering where his journey might take him next. So, by respecting his privacy, we gently stepped away, hiking in the opposite direction. Later in the afternoon, following a dip in the lake, we sat back in our chairs, the calm water mesmerizing us into a wonderful repose. And there he was again, our new friend gliding by but pausing when he saw us – most likely with perfect intention to visit so that he could say goodbye before heading to his next destination.
Isn’t it special, the friends we meet in unexpected places?

Lauren Scott ©

Thank you for stopping by to read this story about the wonders of nature, and by the way, I have ventured into the world of Instagram @baydreamerwrites.

https://www.instagram.com/baydreamerwrites/

and created a new Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/BaydreamerWrites.

So, if you would like to connect on these platforms as well, click on the links above. It would be great to see you on these social media networks.

Have a wonderful day!
Lauren
❤️

Sierra Serenity

My husband, Matt, and I experienced one of the best times at our favorite campground in the Sierra Nevada mountains. We hiked on local trails, around the lake, swam, and simply relaxed in camp. Our campsite was lakeside and the water level was high, so the walk down the path to the sandy shore took about fifteen seconds. We’ve had similar sites before in the past, but this one was special because we could see that stunning body of water from every angle. We took in the serenity, putting a halt to the go, go, go mindset. It was nice to watch small sailboats, kayaks, and stand up paddle boards cruise the lake. Inspiration to write in my faithful journal that always accompanies me on our wilderness trips happened immediately. Our first sunset was the most spectacular sunset we have ever watched unfold, and I will post about it soon. I’m sharing a handful of the many, many photos below that we took:

For all you Ornithologists, we saw an abundance of birds such as an American Bald Eagle (incredible), a Scrub jay, California Quail, Finches, Diving Ducks, and Canadian Geese. Other creatures piqued our interest: a tiny lake frog and a bullfrog the size of a softball, lizards, squirrels, and chipmunks. Although my husband had hoped to see a black bear!

And below is a poem that formed on…

The First Morning

Our eyes open to chirps of our feathered campers
from high above in the fir trees, and occasionally,
we hear the rustle of a skittering squirrel.
The night before, every creature became silent

as darkness sank into the evening.
But in morning, when darkness has faded

and sunlight shines over the lake,
we walk the few steps down the trail

to the still water, nestle into our camp chairs
side by side, and slowly sip our caffeine indulgence.
We listen. Peace in the uttermost sense of the word.
Beautiful clouds drift by, prompting us to stroll upon them,

feel their softness, but then they move with the grace of a swan.
Ripples in the sand. Artwork in crystal-clear water.
And this is when we watch morning happen…

Lauren Scott ©
I hope you find your place of tranquility…like we did. ❤️

A Fine Discovery

Sitting on the shore
feeling inconsequential
in its vast presence,
the surface sparkles
like a rare jewel
just discovered

Dragonflies entertain
like tiny jets
Damselflies with their
blue, iridescent wings
gracefully flit about
relatives by nature


Tiny threads of peace 
weave into the marrow
of our souls

A great fortune
to play a part with nature
in this moment of existence –
to discover such a gem

Lauren Scott (c)

Pantoll – A Pleasant Surprise

Fires raged in the Sierra mountains this summer, forcing my husband and I to cancel our long-awaited backpacking trip. So, what did we do instead? We thought “local!” We found Pantoll Campground located on Mt. Tamalpais that seemed like a good alternative for a peaceful getaway. Only a forty-minute drive from home, we felt like we had traveled hundreds of miles, entering into another world. Mt. Tam is a popular tourist attraction, but with packing up all the gear and necessities for camping, we always wanted to drive farther into the mountains. It’s funny how one setback unexpectedly leads to a pleasant surprise. Here’s a glimpse into our weekend…

A visitor quietly joined us in our site.
Our cozy accommodations.
Site #1 presented an open concept of a
raised dining and great room with a
rustic fireplace.
Our backyard, perfectly landscaped.
Hiking nearby with views of San Francisco Bay.
Boiling water in minutes for our freeze-dried
feast.
Our only fire because of the red flag warning
for the following day.
Our first beautiful sunset.
Coffee and a gorgeous sunrise. Ahhh…..
A different perspective.
Our once-a-year bacon splurge, using my mom’s
cast iron skillet
that must be about 100 years old!
We hiked to the outdoor mountain theater –
a wonderful, summertime cultural experience.
After hiking uphill a few miles, our legs were
ready for a break.
Back on the trail, views of the SF bay entertained
us again.
It’s all downhill from here. 🙂
Must be 5 O’Clock. Cheers!
Nature’s architecture.

Did you enjoy the scenery? I hope so! We’re glad to have found a local option now, maybe not for backpacking, but at least for camping and hiking. Here in sunny and drought-ridden California, everyone waits for some precipitation to reduce fire danger.
We hope to slip on those backpacks next year…

Thanks for popping in and stay safe,
Lauren ❤️❤️❤️