UPCHUCK AND MORE

Every once-in-a-while I get hit in the stomach with whatever and it begins to leak out of both ends. I start with the runs that seem more like a sudden explosion. I did manage to get to sleep and at 2:30 I began the upper volcanic explosion that felt like it might last as long at Mount St. Helens. It kept coming and coming and coming and — have you had enough yet. Just one more, the next day I had the runs all day. Enough said.

That was yesterday. I did get a good jump on reading The Help. Since I have already seen the movie I am delighted about how closely the movie follows the book. This is only the second time a movie has motivated me to get the book. My neighbor across the hall loaned me her copy. There are three descriptions of people in the book that are physically dramatically different than their movie counter parts. However, I will give the actors credit, they certainly convey the right spirit and attitude.

So today is my first day I sorta fell like myself. That is if I have any idea what it means to feel like myself. Would that be my 16-year-old-self, my 24-year-old self, my 35-year-old self, or my 50-year-old self? I remember each of these phases and that is not what I felt like. I think I feel lie my 80-year-old-self. I’m not that old yet, but went the way of the missing cat. Gone, but where?

Work has been piling up. I have a terrible habit to pile my dishes in the sink until I have no clean ones. I managed to get a few done today so I could survive the weekend. I had no clothes for Sunday so I had to do laundry. But my book was calling. When I get hooked on a book I like that will consume me. I argue that I am retired, no one visits my apartment, my family is across the water for the weekend, and I can do all this later. When my eyes gat tired I watched a Netflix rental called John Rabe. In German, Chinese and English. You have to keep your eye3s open and read quickly. I missed some, but not much. Maybe I will be able to read faster when my hearing aids arrive.

John Rabe is a terrific true story of a German in Nanking, China, in 1937 when the Japanese were attacking China. He had been sent by Germany 27 years earlier to bui8ld a power plant. He had done a terrific job and was set to go home when the Japanese began the attacks. Stuck in Nanking negotiated a safe zone and saved over 200,000 Chinese from certain death. There’s a lot more, but this isn’t a movie review — is it?

I spend some time on the porch with the Precious Ladies of The Front Porch.  Chas is usually there but he goes to church on Saturday night. My laundry was drying so I joined them until the crowd got so large I could not hear everything. I am now very aware of my lass of hearing. I now realize how often I say “pardon.” I talked to my daughter on the phone today and just skipped over something she said that I did not understand. I wondered how often I did that. Pretending! Takes me back to acting days — I guess I’m still in those. Also, the larger the group, the less interested I am in hanging out. I suppose I’m frustrated by the lack of my ability to focus.

I guess that will all change. I will either be like my brother David who is glad to have his hearing aids, or like my oldest brother Harlow who hated them and refused to wear them. His children hated visiting him since he could not hear them and gave up trying. I don’t want that.

SADNESS PREVAILS

This isn’t the end of the line, but we often say you can see it from here. Independent living is frequently thought of as the step before the last step. While some residents have passed away here, modern medicine has found plenty of ways to help us linger on. So most will leave here for an extended care facility. Independent living is not a depressing place, but when one goes down, it is an incredibly caring place.

Edna was taken away Tuesday morning at 7:30 a.m. by ambulance. It was another stroke. She has had several. This is just the latest. By noon, word was everywhere. What can we do? Can we visit? What about her cat? Who can we call? Some pray, others gather information, and one cares for her cat. The hard thing for residents is that no one can get information from the hospital. None of us are family. We don’t see it that way. To us, Edna is family. Love and concern surrounds her and her family. We just want to know how she is. We want her to come back. We want her to heal.

Word came down today that she would be moved to a convalescence home. Her speech is slurred. She has been there twice and returned both times to great relief and joy. Of course, we want that this time. But the mood is depressed. The sense is that she may have moved to her final physical home on earth. What set the tone was hearing that her family had her baptized this morning. While she is not Catholic, it is being called “The Last Rites.” Few see hope. That leads to a solemn spirit on the grounds.

Edna lives in the main building. The sense of gloom has been extended with the accident Janet had yesterday. We are not exactly sure how it happened except that it was at the bus. She lost her balance and left over backwards hitting her head on the cement. We do not know if she was getting on the bus, waiting for the bus or what. Janet is 93. If she were younger, she would be home today. But her age is against her. She is a shining light in our building. She has an excellent sense of humor, volunteers at a convalescence home caring for the “old people.” She also makes the most amazing cheesecake I have ever tasted. She is a kind, loving and very helpful person.

She had a very small cut on the back of her head. She had 6-7 stitches. She is not allowed visitors. Her speech is still muddled. Her words are clear, but mixed up. She is not following conversations. We are told we might be able to see her on Monday. But they are keeping her under observation. The main concern is the possibility of swelling. We are very concerned for her and praying she will return.

We are not naive. No one believes they will love forever and I have not yet met anyone who wants to live forever. But we are reflective. About the only conversation around here is about these friends. It also brings on much speculation about the others with serious health concerns. There are concerns about end of life issues. It is interesting that while some fear death, most seem to welcome the possibility. No one wants pain, but most do not want to be tied to machines and they want life to end here, because there is still life here. There is still a sense of normality here. We are rarely sitting around waiting for the end to come. We still have a future and are looking forward.