Thursday,
May 2, 2002
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S. 1st 'stuff'
"Attention to health is the
greatest hindrance to life." |
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get on your feet I stop at the store on my way to work. I get some cheese for myself and some Blue Bell vanilla ice cream for my mother.
I'm heartened to see her walking across the floor when I get there. My dad's by her side, but she is walking, the wheelchair nowhere in sight. She sits down in her chair, heavily. She hurts. The maid is there. Dad is getting ready to help her bathe. He says he will shop for groceries while the maid is there. "I can get out of the house," he says. He says he will pick up the prescription for PT and a wheelchair, too.
At work there is a meeting. A telephone conference. People doing things in the company that I had no idea were going on. It's amazing. The first fifteen minutes is people signing on, having side conversations. Wasted time. I eat lunch (nachos if you must know) in the office. I try to work. People call me about this and that. I get the agenda of tomorrow's meeting. It makes me want to crush something.
After work, I stop in at my parents. My mother is complaining about hurting but Dad has had her taking steps all day. He's about to get a shower himself. He shows me Mom's PT appointments, we decide she'll go and get the cat scan if she stays this OK but we'll get her a lighter wheelchair Saturday or Monday. She says she hurts 'like a knife cutting into her' and Dad gets her a Tylenol. She wants some Seven Up and ice cream, too. That's probably a good sign.
So I go home and suggest to FFP that we go to Fonda San Miguel. We end up spending all evening there, eating, talking to the owner and to other people who come in.
Home again, I think about the following morning's meeting. Sigh. An all day meeting bodes the worst. Add to that the agenda. Must. Get. Better attitude.
So. Some newspaper, TV, etc.
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180
JUST
TYPING