kvetching up

Abby and I were sitting on the far corner of the black leather couch closest to the fireplace, by the picture front picture window. Buddy was lying next to us on the edge of the couch, his tail wagging as he looked out the window. It was a bright July afternoon. The living room blinds were open. The door was ajar. Warm air, carrying the smell of cut grass, blew gently into the house and made everything seem almost perfect. The room was full of light. We were goofing. Abby and I as I showed her a ridiculous video from my youth called The John Wayne Rap. She watched it with the impatient distance of a teenager, pre-a noyance evident. I was doing an atrocious John Wayne imitation, my noise hitting Abby like a shuriken each time I threw a daha her way. We were laughing. Jenny had just come home from the scan she had insisted on getting (after losing 25 lbs in a couple months without trying), the one she was told she did not need, the one the physician’s assistant told her would show nothin...

Entry 1      10:00 a.m.  Every day, darkness . Today I went to wake Jenny and found her sobbing, finally mourning for the loss of her mother and for her own impending death. She vacillates more between hope and despair, but the last few days, she has been despondent, telling me over and again she doesn't want to die--asking me what can be done to stop this. I have nothing to offer. She isn't really expecting me to give an answer, but she doesn't know who else to ask. The doctor, on Thursday, will he offer hope? If so, is it real?  Should she ask him directly, "Is this going to kill me?" We all know the answer, but hearing him say it, would it accomplish anything? I wake everyday thinking about her cancer, thinking about how sick she is. I put on my pants. Find my shoes upstairs, by the front door, climb a second set of stairs and go let the dogs out of their crate, and then take them to the bathroom. Each morning I worry, sick and weak as she is, that she may ge...

This day was good.  And I am exhausted, but need to write this down against forgetting.  I'm negative. Covid-19 negative. I am sleeping downstairs for the time being using a chair, an ottoman and a table as a bed.  That is a story for another day, but just know I am.   I got up late this morning--well after 7--and after the perfunctory coffee, and some raisin toast, went upstairs and sat on the side of Jenny's bed and woke her up.  For reasons I can't A spinning gyre. explain, it made her day.  She was so pleased I had done this, she told me how lovely it was that I had done that.  My first thought was, I bet she wishes el pinché could do it instead. My second thought was, accept that she is happy and move on with the day, expecting a more pleasant few moments with her than last night's debacle. Jenny left around 9 to pick up meds and do whatever else was on her list, which was not short.  I don't know how she manages to function, when s...

Entry 1      8:52 a.m. I am the only patient in Kaiser Cap Hill urgent care. Got checked in at 730. Saw PA Hana at 745. Waiting for an x-ray since. Ruling out a break. 

Walking on the Moon Dizzy.  Three days now.  Overwhelming.  Scary.  Worried I have a brain bleed.  It comes in waves. I went to urgent care on Sunday.  MRI and CT.  My brain is photogenic. No bleeds, no tumors.  I go back today.   This has been going on since Wednesday.  On Saturday, I saw Jenny and Abby parking Abby's car after acting. I had been out walking.  I was so dizzy it felt like I was walking on the moon, or jumping up and down on a very springy mattress.  Sunday, another episode hit while in full repose in Abby's car.   I was going to leave around 2. She went to see Eric the pinche motherfucker today and had therapy--which is 50 minutes, right?  Therapy started late.  12:43. She just texted me that she just finished therapy  and is on her way home.  I'm sure she was lying.