Yes, I skipped yesterday. I made no effort to make an entry. I didn't do nothing. I swept the kitchen and hallway floor; I weeded the garden; I did 10,000 steps, and I did some work on the book I'm writing on my reading method.
This morning, I woke up at 6:30 but stayed in bed till 7. I wore a T-shirt without a sweatshirt on my walk. I figured with the sunup; I'd be sweating by the time I got home. But that was not to happen. Despite a clear sky and strong sun, a brisk breeze sometimes became a stiff one. In fact, one gust blew my wide-brimmed blue Wallaroo hat right off my head. I tried to call Jean M. while I was walking, but the wind made both our voices unintelligible. I waited until I got home to complete the call.
I heard more about the year-long radiation and chemotherapy my friend Jean M. will have to go through. The GYN doctor who diagnosed her breast cancer and operated on her acted inappropriately. She has put Jean's health at serious risk. The oncologist said that it is required that a doctor who detects cancer in a patient is required to refer that patient to an oncologist immediately and not presume to treat it on their own. Not only did this doctor not do that, but she also ignored Jean's complaints of pain at the surgical site. Jean went to the hospital to have that treated. A cup of pus was drained from the wound that that GYN refused to consider a problem. The attending physician had to cut the wound open to be sure all the discharge had been removed.
Jean told me that when it became clear she had been badly treated by her GYN, her first thought was to ask," What would Mike do in this situation?" She had some image that he would have been forgiving. Boy, did she have that wrong! He would have filled out the complaint on his own for her and sent it to the AMA. He would have been clear that this is a doctor who should lose her right to practice. Either she is totally incompetent, suffering from dementia, or completely immoral. Jean says she has a huge practice.
I took care of feeding Elsa and taking the garbage to the curb for pick up. The breeze had turned into a wind despite the brilliantly clear sky. The windows in my living room rattled. I have never heard that before. I checked the weather report thinking there was a storm heading our way, but no, there was no such indication. I had no idea what this wind is about.
After posting the April 22, 2019 update on the public blog, I was ready for my morning nap. More weird dreams. I read an article in the NY Times that said that I'm not alone with this. Most of the dreams aren't even anxiety dreams; they're just weird. However, during this nap, I had an anxiety dream.
I was taking a test in a linguistics class. I had done all the reading and studied hard. I love linguistics. However, I wound up not reading the directions on the test carefully. I was done and rereading the directions when I realized my mistake. My first thought was just to give up. I thought of having to tell Mike that I had failed this test. I was running out of time. Apparently, it was a test that I had to pass to remain in the program. Then I changed directions and worked frantically to correct my mistake. I was having problems writing neatly. Even after I had completed an answer, I discovered there was something I had missed. There were directions written under 'windows;" I had to lift a slip of paper to read what was underneath. In one case, there was a window within a window.
I woke up at 1 and sat down to write this entry. While I wrote, I listened to NPR. There were more talks about how damaging respirators are. Mike was on one twice; he was in an ICU twice. That he made it out of the unit the first time was miraculous. He ripped the intubation tube out of his throat himself. The second time, it was removed for him in preparation for allowing him to slip away without further ado. The ICU doctors told us that they were thinking of removing the tube because he was breathing mostly on his own the first time. Then he was moved back to 'a floor,' meaning out of the ICU unit. Because he pulled the tube out on his own, he needed 24-hour attendants to make sure he didn't do it again. The good attendants watched him like a hawk, never taking their eyes off of him.
However, there was one attendant that wasn't going to get a letter of praise from me. And then there was the doctor who wanted to know if I remembered him. He had told me that Mike was having trouble breathing and had expected me to fully understand what this meant. No, I did not realize that his case had shifted from hopeful to hopeless once he was on a ventilator. No, I did not understand that. I didn't understand that until the last two days when I heard about the impact of being on ventilators on the radio in response to the Covid virus. However thankful I have been that he isn't alive now to face the crisis created by the pandemic after he struggled to survive and recover for a full year, I am so much more grateful now understanding of how damaged he would have been after the intubation experience. OMG! I'm thinking refusing intubation is something I might do if I'm very sick. Why bother? You don't come out the person you went in. A seriously weakened condition is one thing, but brain damage from the drugs they give you to keep you calm. Forget it!
Yay for Betty. I did some routine 'daily' housekeeping. This is new for me. It means losing out on some time, usually committed to playing FreeCell, but how bad can that be? I am amazed at how much actual dirt I sweep up every day. Where does this come from? Is this something I bring into the house on the bottom of my shoes? Is this something that blows into the house because it is open air? Either way, it's impressive.
I'm developing an allergic reaction to words like "amazing" and "terrific," and "incredible." The Grammarly editing program calls those words' squinting modifiers' and recommends eliminating them from your writing. They are considered empty, meaningless words.
I heard from one of the 3rd-grade teachers I work with at Kealakehe Elementary School. She told me that she is working with 17 out of the 24 children in her class online during the pandemic. When I first heard from her when the shutdown started, there were only one or two. Yay! For those parents who are helping those kids move ahead. Too bad for those who aren't or can't.
Okay, I finally called my car insurance company to find out if I was covered. Last week, it came to mind that maybe the Ford wasn't covered by insurance because the registration was still in Mike's name. Would that invalidate the coverage? The car is covered by the insurance plan, but if the titular owner is dead, does that cancel that coverage? No. Ah! I knew that logically the car is mine, regardless of who it is registered to. I am the sole beneficiary of Mike's estate. The company agrees with me. Yay! But it does occur to me that I might need a copy of the will and Mike's death certificate if I ever want to get rid of the car, particularly if I want to sell it. I'd better dig those documents up and have them on the ready.
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