The Ponce Chronicles, Part Six, Season Finale

We’re home now. All of us. There was drama every step of the way. I had boxed up the big oxygen concentrator I bought in Ponce and was carrying it home as checked luggage. I was belted into my seat for the return flight when a JetBlue rep came up and informed me that my checked box had been flagged by TSA as hazardous, and was not going to be allowed on the plane. Did I want to get off the flight and reclaim it, or could someone pick it up for me? Much back-and-forthing, but no budging. (I’m sure someone thought it contained oxygen, which it did not.) Finally I reached Allysen by phone. Yes, she could return to the airport and get it, and I could stay on my flight. And now it was up to her to get it to the Post Office and mail it, before her flight to Boston.

Picking up Shadowfox in Newark went okay, except that I drove the campervan, and Google maps insisted on directing me onto parkways north of NYC that are auto-only, with lots of low bridges. White knuckle time! I could easily have Storrowed myself. I could find no way to tell the Goog to stop doing that, and so it was not a fun drive, in either direction. I guess I should have researched the route ahead of time, but I hadn’t foreseen the need. Here’s a picture of a “Storrowed” truck.

Allysen was up all night that night closing down the house in Ponce. Tthen she and McDuff took a 2-hour cab ride to the airport in San Juan—where they took to the air minutes before the entire island of Puerto Rico went dark with the second major power outage since December.

We are all settled back in at the ranch, including Shadowfox in her new home.

Happy Easter, belatedly, to everyone who celebrates it. And Happy Boston Marathon tomorrow. Which I must steer around as I make my way to my first evaluation meeting with the Brigham lung transplant team! Wish me luck!

The Ponce Chronicles 2025, Part Five

As the full moon rises in the early evening sky over Ponce, we are wrapping things up in preparation for returning to Boston. And by “wrapping up,” I mean trying to get all the things done that we haven’t gotten done in the last two months. In fact, we’ve gotten a whole lot of repair and maintenance work done, and also hosted several sets of friends from various locations. I’m sorry I haven’t posted as much as I would have liked. Sadly, my writing surge was short lived. And now we’re packing a ridiculous amount of stuff to carry back with us—including an extra dog.

It proves to be incredibly complicated, not to mention expensive, to fly a dog home from Puerto Rico, when that dog is too large to travel in the cabin under the seat of a regular airline. Shadowfox is traveling on a cargo plane by herself. A facilitator is seeing to the arrangements for us, which involve SF arriving not in Boston but in Newark, New Jersey. What this means is that I’m flying back first on my own—laden with oxygen paraphernalia as well as the usual huge checked bag. It’s not a pretty sight. Although it may be a comical one.

I’ll be arriving home just in time for some long-scheduled medical tests. And then I load up the campervan and head off to Newark! I must pick up the Fox at 9 a.m. at a cargo facility at Newark Airport, and not be late. (Not my strong suit.) Then the poor critter, hopefully not too traumatized, will head home with me—to her new home! She has calmed down considerably. If we survive the first year of puppy energy, she’s going to be a great companion. (McDuff already is.)

The next day, Allysen and McDuff fly home. I hope, when McDuff arrives to find Shadowfox already there, she doesn’t run away to join the foreign legion.

Here’s a final picture. I couldn’t get McDuff to stick around for the shutter.

The Ponce Chronicles 2025, Part Four

The days and weeks are marching by, here in Puerto Rico, temporarily distracted from the insanity afflicting the country. Some friends from Boston were just here, had a great time, and have left. Other friends are coming from Seattle tomorrow. Workers are here most days, repairing brick damage from Hurricane Maria and the earthquakes a few years ago. I’ve done a lot of small repairs. I have been working on the book—pretty steadily, getting a page or two written most days, which for me at this point is great.

It now appears that we will be returning home in a few weeks with a new dog. Shadow Fox got spayed a few days ago and is now wearing a hat of healing. She has quickly learned some of the basic commands, and is mostly house trained. But high energy. And we are tasked with keeping her quiet for two weeks, post-op. Challenging! We know from experience with border collies that smart dogs need something to do, and we’re doing our best. McDuff is not altogether thrilled with this noisy interloper, and it’s hard to blame her. We’re hopeful that things will settle out between them soon.

Here’s a view of Ponce from the neighbors’ house, the Caribbean visible at the horizon.

And here’s Ponce, with dog, from our deck.

The Ponce Chronicles 2025, Part Three

Or should I call this the Puppy Chronicles? Little Shadowfox turns out to be a fast learner, and she’s already calmed down considerably and is well on the way to being house trained. She sits and stays (ish). She’s sleeping through the nights, and is getting used to her bungalow (crate). She’s becoming part of the family, and it looks more and more as though we’re going to be returning in April with a second dog. (The name Shadowfox is not official yet, but it seems to be sticking.)

One big project got done by a contractor—a new platform for the pump and pool filter—plus a bunch of small repairs by yours truly. A lot of other important projects are still on hold while we await workers. Until a few days ago, our daughter and her partner were here, enjoying the Ponce celebration of Carnival. They’ve gone back home, and now it’s the two of us and the dogs, until some friends arrive in another week or so.

I’ve begun writing again. Slowly and haltingly, but writing. In fact, in the last week, I’ve dreamt twice about writing (though not fiction). The dreams were so detailed that they involved the actual wording and editing of the text my dreaming self was working on. I’ve never experienced that before. I think my subconscious is beginning to stir.

Here’s a clip of Shadowfox in perpetual motion machine-mode, helping Allysen to water the plants. (If it asks you to sign in, just reload and click Watch on Youtube.)

And the two dogs learning to get out of the swimming pool.

 

 

The Ponce Chronicles 2025, Part Two

If there’s one certainty about our coming to Puerto Rico—beyond the island’s beauty and warmth—it’s that our plans will be thrown into utter disarray by the arrival of one or more abandoned dogs seeking refuge at our front gate. This time it happened on the day of my second arrival. This charming little girl showed up, half starved, inside the gate, on the very day Allysen drove to San Juan to pick me up. You’d have to be Scrooge to resist this face.

I suppose we could have said, “Go somewhere else to die…” But seriously, no. By the time I got there, she’d been given food and water. Then she got a collar and a flea bath and a trip to the vet. She is sweet and affectionate and unafraid of people, and while our dog McDuff finds her energy mildly alarming, they get along fine. Did I mention she has boundless, explosive energy and no training? She could be in Wikipedia under the heading, “Handful.” Everyone is in love, and also exhausted.

Can we find someone to adopt her before we leave in April? Is there a way to get her back to the states, given that she’s too big to travel under an airline seat? Can my wife bear to give her up? Many questions, no answers. She appears to be part Manchester terrier, and guess who has always wanted a Manchester terrier. (Yesterday was Allysen’s birthday, so this might just be her present.) We’ve tried a dozen names on her and settled on none. I presently call her Shadowfox or Foxbat. But that might turn out to be her breed and not her given name.

When all these things are settled, I’ll let you know. Here she is with McDuff.

Boskone Over, Back to Puerto Rico

Last Saturday, I made my first in-person appearance since the pandemic at Boston’s Boskone convention. It was brief but enjoyable. I moderated a panel on “Hopeful Futures in SF,” which is something I feel we need more of; and I moderated a panel on “Writing and Structuring Long Series,” which is something about which I feel more writers should finish what they start. Ahem. Both panels were lively, with good input from my fellow panelists. I also talked to a fellow writer who told me he’d made extensive use of my online writing guide when teaching writing to high school students. This totally made my day.

Tomorrow I’m off once more to Puerto Rico, because we need to get going again on The Ponce Chronicles, or something like that. Also, I miss my wife and my dog. One of my daughters is already there, and the other one just landed in Ecuador. Doesn’t anyone stay home anymore? I guess not. I’ll be back in touch when there’s something to report in the next episode of the hit webcast, The Ponce Chronicles. (Cue rousing theme by John Williams.)

See you then!

IPF Update

Here’s another of my promised updates on my battle with pulmonary fibrosis. Now back in Boston (see below), I just had my first CT scan in a couple of years, and the new images show that my interstitial lung disease has progressed more or less the way my pulmonologists expected. This is a lot like, Sorry to report, but we’re continuing to spiral in toward the black hole. Still, according to my pulmo, she’s seen worse. My need for supplemental oxygen has doubled in the same time frame, which is not great news, either. I have a “new” 10L oxygen concentrator here at home now, as well as the actually new one I got in Puerto Rico. This thing is loud! It might be saving my life for now, but it’s killing my hearing and threatening my daughter with migraines at the same time. Looks a little like Robbie the Robot.

The new drug that promises to stop the progression of this damnable disease has just completed dual trials, with favorable results (according to my doc, who keeps her ear to the rails). There’s hope that it could be approved for use before too long. But that’s only if the Musk/Trump wrecking ball currently demolishing our government doesn’t disrupt the FDA’s drug approval process. (Bets, anyone?) That aside, in April, when I come back from Puerto Rico for the second time, I’ll be looking to get listed as a lung transplant candidate.

That’s all kind of a downer, isn’t it? Let’s see if I can end this on a more positive note: I have a whole lot of people praying for me. And I can still do all the push-ups and squats and lunges and weight-lifts I was doing before. I just need a little extra push in the atmo department. And ear muffs. What’s that? (Cupping hand to ear.) No, I can hear you just fine! It’s just… can you stop mumbling and speak up a little?

Upon arriving home from the tropics, this was the scene that greeted me. Brrrr.

The Ponce Chronicles 2025, Part One

posted in: Ponce Chronicles 2

We’ve been in Puerto Rico for the last week—Allysen a little longer than me—and it’s quite a change from the fitful winter weather of Boston. Here, it’s been warmer than usual for January, ranging up and down in the 80s. The house that Allysen’s parents built is as beautiful as ever, with about the usual number of things that need fixing. This time, though, I’m doing only minor fixing, and we have someone reliable (we hope) for the big stuff. Our friend Crystal has joined us again, taking a respite from fretting about the L.A. fires and worrying about the safety of her own home there. And…we brought our dog McDuff down with us! She seems to be really enjoying it. She gets much more time outdoors, and it really suits her.

For me, there was one big thing I couldn’t leave at home, and that was my need for extra oxygen, which has gotten more pronounced in recent months. I am just in the process of getting my O2 concentrator at home upgraded to a bigger, 10 LPM (liters per minute), machine, and I needed that here, too. My portables are enough to get by on for a while, but not enough to make life easy. It seemed to make sense just to buy a 10 LPM unit down here, and that I have done. But it took days of phone calls to accomplish the seemingly simple task of getting a prescription from the Brigham Lung Center. (Great docs, not a great system.) Also, the high cost of renting a car for months at a time finally drove us to buy a used car for the house. We now have a little 2018 Ford Eco Sport for getting around. Well used, but in good condition.

Yesterday we drove to Yauco to see “Yauchromatics,” an art project literally painted onto the houses of a neighborhood, quite lovely.

This evening we enjoyed a sunset dinner at the café at La Cruceta, the enormous cross at the top of the hill overlooking Ponce.

Tomorrow I fly back to Boston for some medical appointments, and will stay long enough to attend Boskone. Then I’ll come back to rejoin Allysen, McDuff, and various visitors at Casarboles. More to follow.

A Note to My Subscribers

If you subscribe to this blog, you might have missed notifications for the last umpty-ump posts. In which case, you might have missed a whole run of The Ponce Chronicles, which I know you don’t want to miss out on. (Something was broken, but now it’s fixed–I think.) Here’s a good place to come into the story, if you want to catch up:

The Ponce Chronicles 2024 — Part 1

In any case, I hope you’ll get the proper notification of all my future can’t-miss posts.

The Ponce Chronicles 2024 — Part 12 (Season Finale)

Crash. That’s what we did upon arriving home in Arlington this week. Despite our best efforts to get everything wrapped up, cleaned up, and tied up ahead of time this year, we were still up until 3 a.m. the night before our flight home, getting things squared away. But we got a ton done on the place, and left it in better shape than it’s been in many years. Here’s a shot of the ponds, partially filled with rocks.

Arriving home, we pretty much crashed and burned. Allysen got started on rabies shots, because of the dog bite, and I got started on an antibiotic because of a persistent ear infection. Even our daughter got to go to the docs for a toe infection. So for the last few days, a great deal of time has been spent with us apparently lifeless in front of the TV, staring unblinking at the flickering screen, empty pizza cartons strewn about the place. We are hoping someone will come along and water us and bring us back to life, like a house plant that’s been ignored for too many weeks.

We’ll leave you with this idyllic seashore memory, from Rincón.

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