Steve and Judy's Travels!

  We drove south to Denver.  That’s my first trip to the office this year.  Somehow it just didn’t fit the schedule before now.  In fact, the day of my trip to the cath lab, Judy and I, and Becky, missed the annual lunch sponsored by Gary, the guy in the middle.  He has his own accounting practice in the building, but is such a friend of the firm, he takes us all out to lunch in June every year.   We didn’t get to see everyone in Denver this trip.  It’s not often we find everyone in the same place at the same time.  Some of them are out on jobs.  Some are in Durango.  Some in Albuquerque.  We just take what we can get wherever we are.   And I remembered to take a selfie.   We love these people.  

  I listen to my heart beat.   It’s different now; and it’s not exactly a soothing sensation.  My mind’s eye sees an old four-cylinder jalopy inside me chugging along at a rough idle.  The whole chassis is rocking to the beat.  I feel like my whole body is rocking along with it.   It’s not that I think anything is wrong.  Maybe this is just what it sounds like when a heart is beating at full strength, after having been quiet for a few months.  Maybe this is, like wearing your underwear on the outside of your clothes, what it feels like when your arteries, and all that blood pumping through them, are now on the outside of your heart.    

  Judy tells me at one time I had an IV bag draining into a port on my left arm and six bags draining directly into ports in my jugular.  This clip pretty much sums up my week!   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wazTC2nmlBI   (Danger, it’s a little profane.)   Oh, and an addition to our menagerie;   a kind gift and a nice long visit with Todd Reade.  Some of you may remember Todd as an integral part of our extended family in Colorado in the 70s and 80s.  

  The elk encounter was the week BEFORE heart surgery.  I just didn’t get it written up until after.  I’m out and about, but not so out and about that it’s time to go wrestle wild elk yet.   I did not invade her personal space, but she certainly invaded mine.   If only I’d thought to turn and take a selfie when our faces and flaring nostrils were eighteen inches apart.  That would have been best selfie ever!    

  They’re so peaceful.  Here is a small herd resting in the shade at a city park in Estes Park.   Here is of one munching grass; caring less that I was close.   There was a sign on the trail warning about a protective momma elk farther down the trail, but I thought that meant all I had to do was be careful; maybe not get between her and her baby.   I was so wrong.  Judy and I had gone for a walk with Henry.  The sign to go this direction said no dogs, as to not agitate the momma elk.  Judy took Henry back to the car and I proceeded warily down the path.  There was an elk in the field next to me.  I gave her a wide berth.  I did NOT invade her personal space. I noticed she was paralleling my progress while getting slightly closer and closer as we went on.  Until she charged.   Lucky for me, there was an additional “beware of elk” sign in the trail ahead.  I got to the sign just before the elk got to me, and I used the sign as a barrier.  We stood face-to-face, me and the elk, with only that little sign between us. We did a bit of a dance around the sign, neither gaining an advantage.  We were in a standoff.  She backed off a few steps and waited for me to make a move.  I tested her resolve a few times, but each time I moved from the safety of the sign, she started right back after me. That was one agitated elk.  She was determined to make me pay for my offense.  I called Judy on her cell and advised she may not want to have a walk down the path this direction.   A guy on a bicycle stopped about fifty yards away to watch the situation unfold.  We chatted while I searched for a solution.  It occurred to me that if I could lure the bicyclist a little closer I wouldn’t have to outrun an elk, I would just have to outrun the elk to the bicyclist.  I tried not making eye-contact with the elk and pretending I didn’t care.  That didn’t improve the situation.  I considered scaling the fence behind me; could I get over it before the elk got to me.  That seemed iffy.  I tried getting really big, waving my arms, yelling and pounding on the metal sign to intimidate her.  Only one of us remained intimidated.   Finally, she appeared to be losing interest.  She bent down and munched a tuft of grass.  I took a couple side-steps and she didn’t respond.  I took another.  A couple more and I was beyond the point of no return; She was now closer to my safe space than I was.   I turned and walked slowly; pretending it was no big deal.  It worked.  I escaped the angry elk.  Judy and I; we walked a different way the rest of that day.