11:33 a.m. Monday, February 19, 2018. I am waiting to be seen by the nurse practitioner. I sat, feeling tired, but relaxed. I went to a lovely concert last night. A friend of mine from the choir I accompanied sang, accompanied by our choir director. It was a full house. I saw many familiar faces.
His voice touched me deeply. Some composers I was not familiar with. The Spanish songs were particularly moving, but the Hebrew song reached deep inside my soul. Achingly powerful. Especially with so much suffering going on in our world.
Music is indeed healing. And I need to treat myself to more live concerts!
I literally floated home. In the snow. I love walking at night in the snow. Most peaceful!
I had a nice commute this morning. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground from last night. And it was bitter cold. But the sky was blue and the sun was shining.
My daughter called me early this morning. She asked me if I would come keep her company after my doctor appointment. The roads were slick. She did not feel comfortable driving, especially with a baby in the car. She was basically stranded in her trailer with her 5 month-old baby until her husband got home from work about 8 p.m.
I had planned to go to the doctor, to the gym, to the dentist and then home to go to bed early. In that order. Most fatigued am I. But an afternoon with my daughter and granddaughter sounded lovely. And I cannot resist being needed.
Like the man at the Clackamas Town Center Max Station this morning. I had just gotten off the bus and was heading towards the elevator. I know, I know. Samurai do not take elevators. But I was too exhausted for the stairs to the upper platform where the Max was idling.
I was about to press the up button, when I noticed a burly man about my age. He was carrying a plastic bag filled with soda cans. He was clean and attractive. Curly, dark hair streaked with silver. A full beard. Jeans and boots. I looked the other way as he reached into the trash can, looking for more cans I assumed.
He looked up and caught my eye. He seemed embarrassed. But he smiled sheepishly and said "Good morning".
I smiled back. He asked me if I could spare $.50. I was worried about catching the Max. I told him I might, but he would have to ride with me in the elevator so I wouldn't miss my train.
Just then, the doors opened. He followed me into the elevator car. As the doors closed, I wondered if I was being careless. I didn't know this man. He was begging. And now I was alone in an elevator with him.
But my instinct proved my doubts wrong. He told me that he lived in Estacada. He had run out of gas late the night before and just needed a bit of cash to put some gas in his tank. I felt instant sympathy.
"What a night to be stranded!" I said. "You must have been nearly frozen!"
He nodded. "Luckily I had a sleeping bag", he said.
I dug out three dollars and handed it to him.
"It's not much", I said, placing the bills in his hand. "But I hope it helps you get home".
He hesitated. "Are you sure?" He asked. He looked at me with concern.
Perhaps my backpack and big overcoat made him think I was a woman of the street?
Or perhaps this man had integrity. Or both.
I smiled and patted his hand. "I'm sure", I said as the elevator doors opened.
"Thank you", he said. My heart warmed. I nearly skipped to the Max.
"God bless you", he said as he headed down the stairs.
I believe He did by having this kind man cross my oath.
My nurse practioner is calling me back...
12:10 p.m. Finally, I am making progress at this clinic. The nurse practitioner and I are developing a patient-practitioner relationship. We had a good discussion of my symptoms. She agrees with my assessment concerning my fatigue, cough, shortness of breath and snoring like a truck driver.
She has ordered a sleep study. And another round of Prednisone. I shared with her my concern about the side effects of so much Prednisone. She said it was a small dose in short bursts. She will see me in a week. If I am still coughing and wheezung, she will send me to a pulmonologist.
We even joked around a bit.
I left the clinic more hopeful than I have been in a long time.
I walked put into the sunshine. I looked up at the blue sky with puffy clouds. All around me, the snow was beginning to melt, firming puddles on the ground.
I felt truly happy. It is Presidents Day. I have the day off from teaching. And there is place I would rather be than relaxing with my daughter and baby Gracie.
And to put the icing in the cake, she ordered us lunch delivered. I had tamales. Most scrumptious!
As usual, I could tell you so much more. But like I told my friend last night, I wish his program had been longer. But in my experience, it is best to leave them wanting more!
And on that note, happy Sunday!
Talk to you tomorrow!
Love,
Zita
P.S. I hooped today. In the snow! Day 241!
His voice touched me deeply. Some composers I was not familiar with. The Spanish songs were particularly moving, but the Hebrew song reached deep inside my soul. Achingly powerful. Especially with so much suffering going on in our world.
Music is indeed healing. And I need to treat myself to more live concerts!
I literally floated home. In the snow. I love walking at night in the snow. Most peaceful!
I had a nice commute this morning. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground from last night. And it was bitter cold. But the sky was blue and the sun was shining.
My daughter called me early this morning. She asked me if I would come keep her company after my doctor appointment. The roads were slick. She did not feel comfortable driving, especially with a baby in the car. She was basically stranded in her trailer with her 5 month-old baby until her husband got home from work about 8 p.m.
I had planned to go to the doctor, to the gym, to the dentist and then home to go to bed early. In that order. Most fatigued am I. But an afternoon with my daughter and granddaughter sounded lovely. And I cannot resist being needed.
Like the man at the Clackamas Town Center Max Station this morning. I had just gotten off the bus and was heading towards the elevator. I know, I know. Samurai do not take elevators. But I was too exhausted for the stairs to the upper platform where the Max was idling.
I was about to press the up button, when I noticed a burly man about my age. He was carrying a plastic bag filled with soda cans. He was clean and attractive. Curly, dark hair streaked with silver. A full beard. Jeans and boots. I looked the other way as he reached into the trash can, looking for more cans I assumed.
He looked up and caught my eye. He seemed embarrassed. But he smiled sheepishly and said "Good morning".
I smiled back. He asked me if I could spare $.50. I was worried about catching the Max. I told him I might, but he would have to ride with me in the elevator so I wouldn't miss my train.
Just then, the doors opened. He followed me into the elevator car. As the doors closed, I wondered if I was being careless. I didn't know this man. He was begging. And now I was alone in an elevator with him.
But my instinct proved my doubts wrong. He told me that he lived in Estacada. He had run out of gas late the night before and just needed a bit of cash to put some gas in his tank. I felt instant sympathy.
"What a night to be stranded!" I said. "You must have been nearly frozen!"
He nodded. "Luckily I had a sleeping bag", he said.
I dug out three dollars and handed it to him.
"It's not much", I said, placing the bills in his hand. "But I hope it helps you get home".
He hesitated. "Are you sure?" He asked. He looked at me with concern.
Perhaps my backpack and big overcoat made him think I was a woman of the street?
Or perhaps this man had integrity. Or both.
I smiled and patted his hand. "I'm sure", I said as the elevator doors opened.
"Thank you", he said. My heart warmed. I nearly skipped to the Max.
"God bless you", he said as he headed down the stairs.
I believe He did by having this kind man cross my oath.
My nurse practioner is calling me back...
12:10 p.m. Finally, I am making progress at this clinic. The nurse practitioner and I are developing a patient-practitioner relationship. We had a good discussion of my symptoms. She agrees with my assessment concerning my fatigue, cough, shortness of breath and snoring like a truck driver.
She has ordered a sleep study. And another round of Prednisone. I shared with her my concern about the side effects of so much Prednisone. She said it was a small dose in short bursts. She will see me in a week. If I am still coughing and wheezung, she will send me to a pulmonologist.
We even joked around a bit.
I left the clinic more hopeful than I have been in a long time.
I walked put into the sunshine. I looked up at the blue sky with puffy clouds. All around me, the snow was beginning to melt, firming puddles on the ground.
I felt truly happy. It is Presidents Day. I have the day off from teaching. And there is place I would rather be than relaxing with my daughter and baby Gracie.
And to put the icing in the cake, she ordered us lunch delivered. I had tamales. Most scrumptious!
As usual, I could tell you so much more. But like I told my friend last night, I wish his program had been longer. But in my experience, it is best to leave them wanting more!
And on that note, happy Sunday!
Talk to you tomorrow!
Love,
Zita
P.S. I hooped today. In the snow! Day 241!
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