Spring New Shoulder Moon
Kate has the power of a resurgent earth, ready to fluoresce, and the power of a waxing moon, growing stronger every night, to boost her this week. She’ll need them plus a good surgeon, anesthesiologist, and nurses. Without her pain meds, which she’s had to eliminate prior to surgery to prevent bleeding, her shoulder has become debilitating, or, I should say, more debilitating.
Kep’s digestive tract remains upset. He threw up more overnight. Yesterday, after our physicals, we went to the Wash House Laundromat in Littleton, put the comforters and quilts in two giant washers and waited in the car while they went through the 28 minute cycle. A bit of sticker shock for me since each washer, we used two, was seven dollars and twenty-five cents. Worth it though.
In a bit of nostalgia for me all the seats in the place were taken up by residents from a group home for the developmentally disabled. A young man with a plastic helmet to protect against seizures, another autistic young man davening and crying out, and four Down’s Syndrome young women. When I worked with the developmentally disabled, which I did from 1974 to 1980, taking clients out to places like the laundromat was a pleasant diversion, teaching independent living skills and being away from the residence.
Kate’s preop physical yesterday cleared the way for the procedure on Thursday. It will not come soon enough. Today we go to see her rheumatologist.
My physical was, at least so far (before lab results), unremarkable. Dull is my favorite medical term. Boring. Nothing happening here. My ekg was like last years. My blood pressure is low enough that Dr. Gidday wondered if I was over medicated. No, I said, I want to keep it low. All those strokes in the family of origin. O2 saturation fine, as it always is when I descend 3,600 feet to her office. Knee? Fine. Other knee? Surprisingly fine. Prostate? Still gone. PSA’s good. No hernia. Lungs and heart sound good. Still upright and moving.
I’m doing well, able to help Kate, care for the dogs, feeling centered and calm. I understand my limits and know that staying present, not fretting about tomorrow or holding onto yesterday, keeps me sane. The tao of this time flows through us all and I’m following its course, traveling with the fluctuations. The tao right now is my nurse, my comforter, my energy.
It is the tao of springtime reminding us that winter passes, too, as will all the difficulties; and, that even in the midst of a tough season, underneath is the movement of life itself, struggling to emerge, to take back the moment. All we need to do is follow its cues.