October 23rd
Yes, I can still type, although not sure about whether I can write or not.
I am finally on the damn ‘plane on my way to NYC and environs. I think I started my vacation when I ordered too much Thai food last night. It was too hot for both Janet and David and I did have some intense discussions with my GI tract but damn it was good.
I just found my car key in my bag, here at however many thousand feet. I got a text from Patrick (who drove me in my car) that he needed the key but then I got a message that said “Nevermind” so I will sit here for hours feeling like an asshole for not handing David the key. He did have plenty of time to keep calling me and he didn’t so I guess everything is okay.
The weeks leading up to my departure have been intense for me. I found myself fluctuating between joy, terror, insecurity, fear, and almost unbearable anticipation. I couldn’t focus enough to write. And I brought this damn MacBook Pro with me so that I could write my blog and I damn well better.
Other than my anxiety about the mystery of Patrick and David, and how they got home, I am feeling quite calm. Having double N95 masks is kind of uncomfortable and we are hours away from release on that count. Although I guess I can take it off to eat. I am quite hungry. Well, I see that Patrick left me a VM telling me that they were able to drive because the car was running when I got out. I could throw up. But all is sanguine at the moment.
I kind of want to watch the monitor and do some needlepoint, but I am far from my finished my re-reading of Tana French’s In the Woods which is the current bookgroup choice.
Having the ear buds in is extra uncomfortable with a double mask, just saying.
But hey! I have a whole row to myself, which is nice.
Janet’s continence is failing, particularly when she gets out of bed in the morning. Yesterday, she evidently dropped feces when she stood up, stepped in it, didn’t notice and walked around the house. We both cleaned it up, and I certainly didn’t say anything but I cannot imagine how that must feel. To know you are losing control and, at 94.75 years, that the end is hotly nearing. This morning there was urine from her bedside all the way to the bathroom. She does alright in the day time, but it is time for nighttime diapers.
Too add to all the stress of leaving and not having gotten everything done, I didn’t check when David’s flight got in only to find it had been delayed five hours. So that was another monkey wrench. We were supposed to drive around some to give him a chance to orient. Go over procedures. DIdn’t have time for that or mental bandwidth as the day was spent being a bit sad about Janet and the undropped shoe of whether David would actually make it and what would we do if he didn’t.
The cats seemed to know that I was leaving. Fox was practically stuck to me. He rather tried to get into my suitcase, but, as usual, it was too full for another ten pounds. I always have things I have collected for people, which was my wont. Now that I don’t frequent thrift stores nearly as much, my piles of things are dwindling.
Back in 1978 or ’79, my (turned out to be) bff Martha brought me a beautiful hand-thrown mixing bowl from Vermont where she first went to college. Her oldest daughter just got married, so, although I don’t really want to part with it, downsizing is the current name of the game so I decided to bring it with me and re-gift it to A. Hopefully, I will have far less on the return trip, but there will always be this damn laptop. (I don’t really damn it, but it is heavy.
The mixed emotions about the trip were mostly about me. First of all, I haven’t done very much in the last two and a half years. I haven’t even read that much. So I feel as if I don’t have a nice store of anecdotes and bon mots to toss off. I have gained weight and aged, so that makes me a bit anxious. But mostly I am afraid of how much I will feel. Getting seen again. Getting stimulated again. Is is all heady. Having, like a lot of people, I know, in some seclusion, I am greatly under emotionally stimulated, visually stimulated. So that unknown was threatening and exciting. I am more sanguine now.
I wasn’t going to drink on the plane as I don’t like to drink in daylight hours, and hell, until I went into slow motion internal meltdown mode, I wasn’t drinking at all. But hey, I am on vacation and will have hours to sober up again, I got some sauvignon blanc. Meanwhile, it lets me take off my mask for awhile. The plane is only about half full, too.
I think I have a good start here, so I am going to drink.
I understand the incontinence problem. Been there, survived it. In the end, you really don't think about it. You just do it. Like helping your mom take a shower at that needeful moment, you just do it. Really, what else would you? Don't think, do. You're not the only one to imagine they haven't done anything in two years, or however many years it takes before you think you're feeling useless and just sucking oxygen someone else should have. You're okay kid. We all go through it. Sometimes more than one day in a row. But you are better than that Sally. I know you are. Sometime soon I hope we can be together again. Hang in there. Namaste just doesn't cut it for me.
ReplyDeleteare you in nyc?
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