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» Wednesday, January 08, 2020Rhythm Found and Lost
And then came 2020 (whose song should be "I Can See Clearly Now") and Bill and Caran's New Year's Eve party, and the Tournament of Roses Parade now being ruined by performances at the beginning and end, and they actually stopped the flippin' parade in the middle to have another musical performance—are you kidding me? And then came cleaning the house for the party, and then The Party, which was a blast.
And so came Twelfth Night, and so came Epiphany, and Monday night, with the usual regret, I pulled all the plugs on the lights—except for the Christmas tree, which we shall enjoy at night until I take it down, and the airplane tree, which is in the spot opposite the door to the garage that provides James light "downrange" (so to speak) when he leaves for work in the morning.
So when I got up Tuesday, where to start? Upstairs? Downstairs? In my lady's chamber? I ended up doing a little bit of everything: herding things in corners out to where they will be found when I pack up (for instance, the red wire tree in the master bath or the gingerbread decorations on either side of the kitchen window), taking down all the indoor door wreaths and candoliers in the windows, packing up the couple of Christmas pillows and a throw and most of the Christmas stuffed animals. What I definitely wanted to get accomplished was taking down the airplane tree and putting back the usual light source there: the lighted autumn-leaf tree we bought at Cracker Barrel in Knoxville on our way to vacation in Pennsylvania in 2009 (so it was 10 years old in November). Got not only that done, but took down the library tree and packed up everything downstairs.
I took the opportunity to put a few things into the donation box: some candles I've never lit and don't intend to, three of a set of nine small ceramic houses, as only six fit under the library tree and there's no real room for them.
I got almost all the boxes upstairs to start packing that stuff up, but fell victim to the allure of designing a new web page. Thought it was high time to do that tribute to Kate Seredy I'd always intended to do; I'd already screencapped some of her art, but had not assembled all of it, or put together a biography and a bibliography, so I spent around three hours working on that throughout the day, then had to lay off since it was time to cook dinner: made steak and buttered potatoes. Today would be different.
But trouble was brewing: James came home Tuesday night complaining about a pain in his right lower back. It had come on him suddenly around five o'clock, and, had it been ten years ago, he would have just suspected he turned wrong. However, since the pain was near one of his kidneys, we were now more suspicious. He had to forego his Ambien to take a pain pill and then says he didn't sleep most of the night for the pain. By the time five a.m. came he was groaning audibly and said we might need to go to Urgent Care after breakfast.
Needless to say, that was enough to keep me awake until first light, not to mention wreaking havoc on my digestion. James called in sick and we decided to eat breakfast first, because once you get to Urgent Care, you could starve to death or eat the dreadful pre-made ham and cheese sandwiches they keep back there.
Kaiser keeps advertising these Express Clinics at each of their facilities, so I wondered if we just couldn't go to the one at Cumberland. So we went there first, thinking all they could do was tell us to go to Urgent Care at Town Center. I went in to see if the Express Clinic was actually open, as it wasn't last week, nor was it today (so why keep promoting it, guys????), but they had available appointments, and James could either go to a strange doctor at 9:20 or see his own doctor at two. We chose to come back at two; James swigged another pain pill and planted himself in his computer chair with a heating pad, and I frankly fell asleep on the sofa for over an hour. Then we both had something for lunch and went back for his appointment.
The doctor thinks James might have spinal stenosis (he has all the symptoms, including the pain lessening when he leans forward) in his compressed discs, and is arranging for an MRI. Oddly, we had an appointment arranged with the doctor for tomorrow after we got back from Southwood to see James' urologist, so he let us roll tomorrow's appointment into today: James needed four prescriptions renewed, asked what to do about a minor problem, and got a "prescription" to see if we can afford to get him a new power chair (he is apparently allowed one every five to six years, and he is going to have to replace both motors on the old chair anyway, which will run about $600). I just realized he forgot to ask for a referral to the podiatrist so he can get new orthopedic shoes; his are two years old and pretty scuffed up. Ah, well, we remembered most of it.
We got home in time for me to take down the net and bush lights outside, pack up the outside decorations, banner, wreath, and mailbox cover (since it's supposed to rain like crazy starting Friday), and put up the winter banner and wreath, and then come inside for supper, which was leftover egg rolls from the party and not very appetizing. I am irritated with myself for getting so nerved up I couldn't do anything during the time we were at home this morning and just lost my rhythm. (I did take the decorations down in the hall bath—but that takes like ten minutes, tops—except for the snowman soap dispenser which will get put up once it's empty.) But I could have managed more today with a lack of sleep and a dicky digestive system.
Really enjoying the Jeopardy "Greatest of All Time" tournament! The questions are really challenging and it's always fun watching these three guys play, they are so good.
Man, is anyone else staring when the date pops up on a screen or a paper somewhere "January 2020"? I mean, it's 2020. When I was a kid, that was supposed to be the super future. We were supposed to have cured cancer, defeated racism, had flying cars, and Picturephones. Of all that only the last has come true via Skype and Facetime, and really, who cares?