Farmdoc’s first million

An important part of my post CABG surgery rehabilitation is exercise. Not that I’d been a couch potato preoperatively, mind you. But it’s now a matter of life and death. My cardiologist told me I should walk for 30 minutes per day – every day for the rest of my life. What I should’ve done was buy a stopwatch. But instead, I don’t know why, I bought a pedometer – an Omron HJ203 [1], if you must know. It uses accelerometer technology, so I wear it on a lanyard around my neck. (The instructions say it’d count my steps even if it was in my backpack; but I haven’t tried that.) Anyway having this whiz bang device, it was only natural I’d join the 10,000 Steps program, with data logging on the 10000steps.org.au website [2]. The aim, of course, is to log 10,000 steps (or more) per day. The 10,000 Steps program’s run by Central Queensland University’s Rockhampton campus, with funding by Queensland Health. There’s even an iPod/iPhone app for entering each day’s steps into a database. And it sends me an email if I forget to upload the steps for the prior day. Anyway I joined the program on 16.7.11, and yesterday I passed the milestone of a million steps – averaging 11,295 steps per day, which for me equates to about 8.8 km per day. I’m chuffed. And what’s more, I feel fantastic. I reckon it’s the endorphins flowing through my (old and new) arteries. So I hope this million’s the first of many, many to come.

We have a sick sheep.

We have a sick sheep. A ram. Indeed a ram lamb. Born last November. Until a few days ago he was healthy. As can be. Then he got shitty. Literally. Suddenly. Within 24 hours he was lagging behind his peers. A few hours later he was too weak to stand. He’s a dear little fellow. Worth saving. The initial treatment was a dose of drench – a liquid medicine to clean out the worms in his gut that caused the diarrhoea and sapped his strength. Weaners are less able than older animals to fight off worms – their immune systems are more immature. Next was a vitamin injection. Then a 3-4 times a day regimen of 30 ml of Vigest tonic [2], a lift onto his feet, a drink from the trough, and some Ewe & Lamb Pellets [3] to eat. Two days ago he had the strength to stand for only a couple of minutes. Yesterday he stood for 10 minutes. So he’s seemingly improving. But he’s not out of the proverbial woods yet. The drench works within a few hours. So the worms are gone. The questions are if his strength and nutrition have been depleted too far; and if he has the will to live. So far so good. On both counts. Yesterday I worked in Deloraine. But today I’m at home, so he’ll be getting intensive care. Sick animals bring out the rehabilitation physician in me. I hope he makes it through. He’s a dear little fellow.

farmdoc's blog post number 549

The art, and science, of rehabilitation involves setting goals, determining what barriers stand in the way of achieving those goals, and then working to remove those barriers. A lot like life in general, really. Most of life’s barriers are intangible. But sometimes they’re tangible. As WriterBee wrote and illustrated here, last week some trees came down and blocked one of the tracks we walk on and ride our ATV on. Yesterday was a lovely warm sunny, and still, day – in other words a perfect day for clearing a blocked track. So I gathered up some tools – especially my chainsaw – and set out to do it. As I predicted, it took a leisurely hour. At the end of which it was done. Cleared. Open. I think the rules are the same whether you’re clearing a track or removing one of life’s intangible barriers: Allow plenty of time so you don’t have to hurry. Don’t rush in, but rather spend some time sizing up the job. Make sure you have the right tools. Tackle the easy tasks first and leave the difficult ones until later. Focus on the task you’re doing at any moment without thinking about the whole job. Oh, and don’t forget to bring a rake so you can make it all lovely after you’ve cleared the big stuff. Do all that and you’ll get a wonderful sense of achievement at the end. And you’ll sleep well afterwards. Like I did last night.