|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday September 2, 2000 "We are ashamed of everything that is real about us; ashamed of ourselves, of our relatives, of our incomes, of our accents, of our opinions, of our experience, just as we are ashamed of our naked skins.." George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman
'what were they thinking?' award
Health update:I feel great! Hurray for massage! Hurray for sleep! |
|
what were they thinking? I wake up startled at 7:20 AM, dreaming of a house that turns into many houses and a dog sort of like my old dog Lucky who has been playing with a smallish cat which seems dead now and seems to be pleading for us to revive it. SuRu and I were supposed to walk at 7. I call. She's just awakened, too. We walk the neighborhood, getting down to 41st or so before turning wearily back in the heat, refreshing ourselves and the dogs from the four water bottles we've brought. Oppressive heat, but nothing like it will be later. We see my in-laws at a garage sale. My mother-in-law is buying a shirt for my father-in-law. We give the monstrosity shown here our 'what WERE they thinking award.' This thing sits amid 40's and 50's bungalows. I cool off enough to shower. FFP points out that one of my parents' oldest friends has died. He was in a nursing home and barely knew anyone. His wife lives in assisted living near the parents. Her presence here was one of my 'aces in the hole' for getting my parents to move. I spend ten minutes trying to tell my dad how to get to her son's house. "Maybe they will call back and give me directions," he says. "They aren't going to give you any better directions than these," I say. "Do you want me to come out their and drive you there." "Yeah, why don't you do that?" he says, relieved. I do. And we visit a while and they tell stories from fifty and sixty years ago. So I don't do the filing I intended to do for them. But I show my mom her e-mail. And I get the changes to her drug regimen that her cardiologist has made. She's confused about some drugs the mail order people sent. One does seem to be nowhere in her known meds. The other is correct, according to what she's told me. This gets worrisome after a while. "I guess I need you more than I thought I did," she says. "No," I say, "But I'm going to get in the middle of it anyway."
FFP and I stay in. He's learning about his new computer program and I'm doing nothing in particular. Cleaning up a few things, never really getting ahead. Reading some newspapers and magazines. We have leftovers for dinner. Easy clean-up. He gives me hand and foot massage. My left hand hurts but it isn't numb. That's good enough for me. I install gel wrist rests on the computers in here. We watch most of a movie with Harrison Ford called "Random Hearts." Don't you hate it when you get sucked into something like that? |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
