Thursday
A day to recover.
I'll make some phone calls today that I've either put off or forgotten about - and schedule some medical tests.
Call #1. I have an appointment at the Penn Lung Center in August. I don't have a clue what day - or what I need to tests I need to have before I go. I called, got the date, found out what I need and was relieved to find that I had not missed the appointment - and I still have time to complete the tests.
Call #2. I received a letter in January stating that I received a parking ticket (unearned) in Wilmington and that my payment was late. I did not receive a citation. I've been fighting this thing since January. I didn't park where they said I parked. I was there, but I didn't park. I pulled to the curb, picked up my son, and we pulled away to go to lunch - 10 seconds? 15 seconds? With penalties, the ticket has gone from $40 to $200. They've ignored all my letters of appeal (even the one I sent with a return receipt)
After trying to reason with a woman whose name must have been Bureaucracy, she informed me that pulling to the curb for 10 seconds is considered parking. Common sense and legal definitions be damned, a brief pause at the curb is considered parking. She offered to cancel the penalties and return the amount of the ticket to $40. I considered that as much of a "win" as I was going to get and paid the ticket.
Today was the day to complete loose ends.
Michael called the pulmonologist for me to find out what I need to schedule - and where. He made the calls and scheduled the tests. Making those calls for me is a huge gift - something I don't have to worry about.
There is nowhere to go - nothing to do today other than to make a couple of bracelets I need to ship - and a trip to our local family-run produce place for some ripe, Jersey tomatoes, sweet white corn, and as large a watermelon as Michael can find.
The phone calls completed without many complications, I watch a movie, read a little, do some online banking, and take a nap.
There are periods of tears off and on while I go through my day. I can't imagine that they'll ever stop.
Michael finishes packing orders and we're off to get produce. I love this produce place (store? stand? I don't know what to call it). The children who used to help their parents weigh and cost out the produce for the customers (by hand, with pencils on paper bags) are now grown and the ones who run the business. Mom and Dad have retired but still live on the property.
Dinner at a local sports bar and then home to watch some of our favorite (and silly) TV shows: 'Big Brother' - we've been hooked for years - and 'Boy Band' which we expected to hate, but ended up loving.
I should say that Michael expected to hate it. Personally, I'm a fan of boy bands. I mean... really... guilty pleasure or not... who doesn't love a good boy band?!?
I worry about the middle of the night - when it's dark and quiet and the images come into my mind, uninvited - when the sadness and the reality settle in.
I'm afraid of the night. Maybe someone will pray me through.
A day to recover.
I'll make some phone calls today that I've either put off or forgotten about - and schedule some medical tests.
Call #1. I have an appointment at the Penn Lung Center in August. I don't have a clue what day - or what I need to tests I need to have before I go. I called, got the date, found out what I need and was relieved to find that I had not missed the appointment - and I still have time to complete the tests.
Call #2. I received a letter in January stating that I received a parking ticket (unearned) in Wilmington and that my payment was late. I did not receive a citation. I've been fighting this thing since January. I didn't park where they said I parked. I was there, but I didn't park. I pulled to the curb, picked up my son, and we pulled away to go to lunch - 10 seconds? 15 seconds? With penalties, the ticket has gone from $40 to $200. They've ignored all my letters of appeal (even the one I sent with a return receipt)
After trying to reason with a woman whose name must have been Bureaucracy, she informed me that pulling to the curb for 10 seconds is considered parking. Common sense and legal definitions be damned, a brief pause at the curb is considered parking. She offered to cancel the penalties and return the amount of the ticket to $40. I considered that as much of a "win" as I was going to get and paid the ticket.
Today was the day to complete loose ends.
Michael called the pulmonologist for me to find out what I need to schedule - and where. He made the calls and scheduled the tests. Making those calls for me is a huge gift - something I don't have to worry about.
There is nowhere to go - nothing to do today other than to make a couple of bracelets I need to ship - and a trip to our local family-run produce place for some ripe, Jersey tomatoes, sweet white corn, and as large a watermelon as Michael can find.
The phone calls completed without many complications, I watch a movie, read a little, do some online banking, and take a nap.
There are periods of tears off and on while I go through my day. I can't imagine that they'll ever stop.
Michael finishes packing orders and we're off to get produce. I love this produce place (store? stand? I don't know what to call it). The children who used to help their parents weigh and cost out the produce for the customers (by hand, with pencils on paper bags) are now grown and the ones who run the business. Mom and Dad have retired but still live on the property.
Dinner at a local sports bar and then home to watch some of our favorite (and silly) TV shows: 'Big Brother' - we've been hooked for years - and 'Boy Band' which we expected to hate, but ended up loving.
I should say that Michael expected to hate it. Personally, I'm a fan of boy bands. I mean... really... guilty pleasure or not... who doesn't love a good boy band?!?
I worry about the middle of the night - when it's dark and quiet and the images come into my mind, uninvited - when the sadness and the reality settle in.
I'm afraid of the night. Maybe someone will pray me through.
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