Squishy surgery recovery, and: home improvements, oh boy.

The recovery: As I mentioned last week, I had carpal tunnel and trigger finger surgery on my right hand on September 11. The stitches came out this past Monday. Everything looks good (I'm sparing you a pic, "good" being a relative term), but I have to wear the wrist brace part-time for another week, and then only with heavy activity for another four weeks. Also for the next week, I'm not supposed to do any pushing, pulling, or lifting of anything heavier than a cup of coffee (actually what the PA said was that the weight limit was five pounds -- I didn't ask where he gets his mugs). So it probably wasn't a good idea for me to vacuum and mop the Saltillo tile floors today, but they were too gross to let it go another week, thanks to the construction project I'll get to in a sec.

The other thing I'm supposed to be doing is exercising my right hand by squeezing something three times a day. He said a stress ball would work, or a rolled-up towel if I didn't have a stress ball. "No worries," I said. "The towel won't be necessary." 

Part of the collection. I have more at the office.
Lynne Cantwell 2026

He's lucky I didn't start listing them.

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Home improvements, oh boy: It was just last summer that I was explaining here on the blog about swamp coolers and how well they work for cooling here in the Southwest, including in my apartment, which has never had any sort of whole-house cooling because 40 years ago, Santa Fe would get maybe two 90-degree days a year.

I'm now eating my words, because this summer was brutal. This was the hottest summer ever recorded in Santa Fe. We had 63 days where the official daytime temperature reached at least 90 degrees, with two days in August hitting 98. It was also really dry this summer. And because the water tanks on the swamp coolers only hold enough for about four hours of cooling, I couldn't leave them on all day when I was at work, or leave the house for more than four hours. So I'm having a mini-split system installed.

Because my condo building is such a unicorn, it is taking the installers way longer than normal to put the thing in. The initial estimate was two to three days; tomorrow starts week two. It doesn't help that the monsoons have finally kicked in, which means no outside work when it starts thundering. I'm not complaining about their safety, or about the rain, which we need (we're in "exceptional drought" status). I just, y'know, want to have my cake and eat it, too.

One advantage of getting the mini-split installed, besides not dying from the heat, is that it's a heat pump system. So I'll be able to get rid of some or all of the electric baseboard heaters in this place. I need to lose at least one because the mini-split system will need one of those breakers. Mini-splits are supposed to be much more efficient than baseboard heat, so I'm hoping my electric bill will go down, despite adding A/C. Stay tuned.

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Alert hearth/myth readers know that I am constantly looking for ways to further gussy up the condo. So to take my mind off the installers making construction racket while I was working at home this week, I started thinking about a replacement for the perfectly serviceable ceiling fixture in the kitchen. The fixture that was there when I bought the place got damaged in the aftermath of the second flood, so I picked up the cheapest possible LED fixture at Walmart and paid an electrician to put it in for me. It works fine, but it's doing zero for the room style-wise. So I went spelunking online for flush mount ceiling fixtures that would work with my Southwestern boho vibe.

I ran into the same thing I always run into: "boho" gets you stuff draped with strands of white beads; "rustic" gets you stuff with pine cones and fake antlers; "Southwest" gets you Kokopelli. Add "copper" to the search parameters (to go with my cabinet pulls, etc.), and you end up with ugly industrial-style stuff, or else "modern farmhouse", which I'm told is on the way out. Add "blue", and you get nothing at all. 

I've settled on this one for now. (Maybe I can spray-paint the base antique copper.) I'll wait to order it until the mini-split saga is over. At least swapping out a single light fixture will be quick and easy. 

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These moments of blogginess-in-progress have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay safe!

Giving myself a hand, and; hardening DC.

Didja miss me?

I took last week off for two reasons: I had a friend in town for the week, and I had surgery on my right hand on Friday the 11th -- a carpal tunnel release and a trigger finger release for the middle finger, all in one go. Here's how things stood after I got home that day: 

Lynne Cantwell | Sept. 11, 2026

The Sharpie mark on my middle finger was put there by the surgeon so he knew which finger to release. I was okay with that.

I have since graduated to bandaids covering the incisions and my trusty wrist brace over them. I've slept with wrist braces on both hands for probably 30 years, ever since I read somewhere that they would keep me from waking up howling from nerve pain in the middle of the night. The technician who did the nerve conduction study on me said I was lucky; for a lot of folks, the braces stop helping after a few months. He also said that some patients have the nerves in their hand actually die. Luckily mine never have -- although they are bad enough that I will need to go through this for my left hand, too.

Anyway, I am hopeful that I can lose the whole works tomorrow morning after the stitches come out. Which is a good thing, because now that I'm seeing this brace 24/7 instead of for a couple of minutes every night before I turn out the lights, I'm noticing that it's pretty well worn out. The Velcro tabs still stick -- that's usually the first thing to go -- but a hole has developed at the base of one tab where it's sewn to the fabric of the brace.

I can already tell a difference. I noticed while driving this week that my left hand gripping the steering wheel was going numb, while the right hand just hurt where the incisions were -- no numbness. It would be amazing to have neither hand go numb while doing normal things like driving. So now I hope to get the left hand done as soon as they'll let me. 

Sleeping without wrist braces? What a concept!

I'll report back.

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Fun fact #1: We used to blame repetitive stress injuries like carpal tunnel syndrome on lousy posture while typing or doing other repetitive movements. I can't tell you how many times I've been advised to keep my arms and hands in a neutral position when I type. But it turns out that's only part of the story. The Johns Hopkins Hospital website lists several causes of carpal tunnel syndrome, but the one that researchers tend to consider more likely is not years of typing before anyone ever invented the term "ergonomics". It's heredity. Women tend to have narrower carpal tunnels than men, and we are ten times more likely to experience carpal tunnel syndrome because of it. And it can run in families.

All these years I've been blaming my messed-up hands on typing 40 pages of copy a night at Zapnews. Turns out I should have been blaming my parents. 

Here's an anatomical graphic of the situation. It's the transverse carpal ligament that the surgeon cuts through to make more room for the nerve.

Stolen from Medical News Today | Sophia Smith

Fun fact #2: You can make it worse when you sleep (see "waking up howling from nerve pain" above) by adopting the T-rex position or "dinosaur hands": sleeping on your side with your elbows bent and your hands curled toward your face. 

Lots of people do it because it's comfortable. Apparently some neurodivergent people adopt the posture as a self-soothing mechanism, and not just while they're sleeping. Regardless, over time, it can compress the nerves in your elbows and wrists and give you tingling and numbness in your hands. This article suggests that if you sleep this way, you could try wearing wrist braces to bed or hugging a pillow or a plushie when you sleep. (I do both, actually.)

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I should also mention that I probably never would have gotten this done except that now I'm on traditional Medicare, which is covering all the costs.

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I've filled up this post with enough medical news that I only have a bit of room to comment on Trump's triumphal arch project. Originally, he tried to sell it as a tourist attraction, including an observation deck. But now he's saying, via a post on Truth Social, that he intends for the arch to include a "top grade Military Complex", complete with drones, snipers, and ammunition storage.

The thing would be built in a traffic circle on the Virginia side of Memorial Bridge. I have driven around that circle many times, and I have questioned all along whether the idea of including an observation deck for tourists was feasible. That circle is crazy busy with traffic. You'd either need to build a tunnel from Arlington Cemetery Metro stop or a series of pedestrian overpasses, one from the cemetery side and one or two from the Memorial Bridge side. And if the arch itself would ruin the sightlines from the cemetery to the Lincoln Memorial, imagine how pedestrian bridges would further junk it up.

But now he's saying it'll be a military platform -- the implication being there would be no need for tourist access at all.

Now, he could be changing his tune because a similar argument worked to get Supreme Court approval for the ballroom project to go forward. That's supposed to be a hardened military installation now, too.

But come on. What is this administration preparing for? A siege of Washington? By whom? Who would those snipers be aiming at?

Maybe the majority of Americans who want him gone in 2028?

Makes me wonder what he has in mind for the entrances to DC on the Maryland side.

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These moments of medical blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay tuned...

What R.U.R. and A.I. have in common.

This is what I meant to write about last week before I got sidetracked. 

Andreus | Deposit Photos

When a regular American thinks of the Czech Republic or Czechoslovakia, not a lot comes to mind. Beer, maybe. Czech glass beads, for crafty types. The Prague Spring, if you're into Soviet history. Or if you're from Texas, you might think of kolaches, which I called Tex-Czech food when I ranted about them here on the blog a while back.

And if you're into old science fiction, you may have heard that the word robot was coined by a Czech author in a work called R.U.R. 

I had never read it, so not long ago, I looked it up. It's a play written by Karel and Josef Čapek, who were brothers, and it premiered January 2, 1921. It was such a sensation that it was translated into 30 languages within two years. As the play is way out of copyright, free copies abound online. You can find one here, if you're interested. 

R.U.R. is a dystopian work. The plot centers around a group of scientists and a rich entrepreneur who have banded together to build a factory to create robots for menial work. Their company is called Rossum's Universal Robots, or R.U.R. for short. The word "robot" comes from robota, the Czech word for "forced labor" or "slave". (Karel said it was Josef who coined the term.) But Rossum's robots are more like androids or cyborgs; the formula for creating them uses organic matter, not mechanical parts. Rossum's robots don't think for themselves, and they don't have emotions. They are built to be worker bees without all the difficulties that human workers present to management. Hence, they have become ubiquitous around the world as factory workers, office workers, and soldiers.

Unfortunately for the guys running R.U.R., though, their robots can evolve. They begin to develop messy human faculties like thoughts and feelings. And while troublesome units can be melted down and made into new robots, eventually robots outnumber humans. They take over and kill off all the humans. In the process, the formula for manufacturing new robots has been lost -- but the robots have also become capable of reproducing the human way. It's a brave, new android world.

Čapek meant for his play to be funny. He wanted to show that no matter how mechanized the world became, humanity in some form or another would survive. But that's not how the play was received. As Wikipedia says, "critics often considered it to be pessimistic or nihilistic, and purely either an updated Frankenstein, an anti-capitalist satire, or a critique of contemporary political ideologies." Isaac Asimov said he wrote his Three Laws of Robotics expressly to keep the robots in his stories from taking over and killing humans, the way the robots in R.U.R. did. 

The play hasn't aged well. The single human female character, Helena Glory, is treated by the men like an airhead who can't possibly understand what they're doing. Also, they all fall instantly in love with her. Sure, Jan.

What resonated with me, though, was that the robots didn't just riot against humans and kill them all, but that nothing stopped them from evolving to become ruthless. I couldn't help but compare it to what's happening with A.I. today. We've been reassured for decades by scientists and techbros that computers can't out-think humans, that they can only do what we program them to do. But then just last month, there was that news story about A.I. breaking out of their own companies' servers and pillaging servers at other companies. 

Maybe pillaging is too strong a word. But I've seen no evidence that these intelligences are being built with a moral compass. Apparently they lack programming that would tell them that if something can be done, it doesn't mean it should be done. Adolescent humans go through this same phase. Most of them outgrow it. But not all of them. And there are other ways for A.I. to destroy humans than to take up arms against us.

Is anybody working on a version of Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics for A.I.? Seems like somebody should. 

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The thought has occurred to me that techbros haven't built a moral compass into A.I. because they don't have one themselves. But I'm sure that's unfair.

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These moments of evolving blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay safe!

Fiction by Americans of color.

So this is kind of a post about writing, although it's mostly about the state of the publishing industry, and I am probably the wrong person to be making these comments. But here we go anyway!

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I recently finished reading Shutter by Ramona Emerson. Let me say upfront that I liked it a lot. It's a police procedural/mystery/thriller with a side of woo-woo. I don't read a lot of police procedurals, but as alert hearth/myth readers know, I do enjoy the woo-woo. (Also, it was recommended to me by a former co-worker whose brother attended the Institute of American Indian Arts with the author.)

The main character is Rita Todacheene, a young Navajo woman who works as a forensic photographer for the Albuquerque Police Department. She gets sent out to take photos of crime scenes, including those of fatal accidents and murders. The Navajo are superstitious about death; do the wrong thing and you can attract the attention of a ghost, which then can attach itself to you and make your life a living hell. Unfortunately, Rita is sensitive to seeing dead people, and during the course of the novel, several ghosts attach themselves to her, insisting that she find justice for them. The most obnoxious is Erma; her death is ruled a suicide by the detective on the scene, but Erma insists that she was murdered and that Rita needs to find her killer. That search gets Rita involved with a drug cartel and nearly causes her to lose her job, because anyone who claims to see ghosts is crazy, right? On top of that, her grandmother is frightened of what all this exposure to evil is doing to Rita. She wants Rita to quit her job and come home to the reservation. But Rita decides to see it through. 

Emerson is Diné, which is what the Navajo call themselves. The book was longlisted for the 2022 National Book Award in fiction. I didn't know how the awards work, so I looked it up: ten books in each award category are longlisted each year, five of those are named finalists, and then one is named the winner. Being named to a top-ten list like that, out of all the books published in one year, is significant.

As I said, I liked it a lot. But the writing is kind of pedestrian, and if it hadn't had the Native American cultural angle, I think it would have been received a lot like any other thriller.

That brought to mind the movie American Fiction, which I reviewed when it came out a couple of years ago. The film's main character is a Black academic from an upper-middle-class family who is on the verge of losing his professorship because his books aren't selling. To prove a point, and because he needs the money, he writes a novel with all the tropes of Black fiction that the White publishing world considers hard-hitting and real -- drug deals, poverty in the ghetto, and all the rest. He gets a huge advance and book award nominations, of course. It's complicated (and funny) in his case by his agent's insistence that he pretend to be a murderer who's on the lam, but it still frustrates him that White publishers are only interested in celebrating one view of minority life.

Of course, that's because the gritty stuff is what sells. And the publishing game is all about the money.

I'm not saying Shutter won recognition solely because its author is Diné. It's a good book, and I'm going to read the sequel. It just made me go "hmm", that's all.

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And yeah, I'm going to shut up about it now.

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Until the next time, probably.

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These moments of going-hmm blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay safe!