Sunday, January 10, 2021

 Sunday, January 10, 2021

            When I woke up at 5, I was dizzy. I hurled myself toward the toilet, moving from the bed to the door frame to the edge of the toilet. I texted Yvette immediately, asking her to check on me when she got up. I was concerned the dizziness might worsen, and I wouldn’t be able to see the phone screen to dial later. It didn’t feel like a stroke, always a concern at my age. The last time I had a bad bout, the consulting nurse from Kaiser recommended going to the emergency room. One never knows, do one? I resolved the dizziness by giving myself a head and neck massage with the tennis ball I keep under my pillow 24/7. I called Yvette, telling her I was okay and went back to sleep.

            I finally got up at 9 am. I have no idea why I needed all that sleep. I called Dorothy. We weren’t supposed to speak this morning; she participates in an online yoga class on Tuesdays and Sundays during our usual telephone time, which starts before 6 am my time. She couldn’t talk long; she expected a call from her son, David, who had moved to Europe. I went out for my walk. I was wearing a heavy sweatshirt. I ran into my neighbor across the street wearing a spaghetti-strapped shirt. Quite the contrast. She told me that our neighbor had put their house on the market the day before.

            Ronen and Elizabeth had used their one-acre plot to create a farm that supplied the local restaurants and hotels with salad greens. That folded with the pandemic. Hotels and restaurants weren’t buying. I asked Ronen if he was planning on setting up and garden again. He said no. It had taken three years to be fully operational. However, I hadn’t expected them to move away. I won’t miss their five dogs, one who wanted to kill Elsa, but I will miss them. They’ve been diligent neighbors. I am curious where they’re going. Will they be leaving the island? Will they move up the mountain to join Elizabeth’s parents on their five-acre plot? I texted Ronen, saying they would be missed and asking them about their plans. They were planning to stay on the island but didn’t know what they would do yet. 

            When we got back into the house, Elsa went right for her food bowl and gobbled down her breakfast. I had set out her food before we went on our walk. Nine was really late for her. I thought she would eat it immediately. Instead, she wouldn’t touch it. That was cause for concern. Before I panicked, I decided to see what happened when we came back from our walk before panicking. She could have been programmed to eat after the walk that she couldn’t think of eating before. I was greatly relieved to see her go for her food when we entered the house.

            I had called my niece Shivani in California while I was walking but could not get through. She called when I was home. When I asked her how she was, she said, “Well, you know, birthdays.” I had no idea what she was talking about. Oh, boy. Today was her birthday. I was once good about things like that. My brain is fried between the lack of stress caused by confinement and the increase of stress caused by confinement and the political situation. Besides that, it has been more challenging to remember winter events since I moved to Hawaii. It doesn’t feel like January. 

            I did some work on the garden strip by the driveway. When I headed back to the house, I saw the door was wide open again. Earlier, I was shocked to find Elsa by my side as I cut back the shrubs. I easily corralled her back to the house. I assumed I had left the door wide open or merely unlatched. When I went out again, I made sure the door was carefully closed, although again not latched. This time she wasn’t by my side. I went running through the house, calling her name. Elsa isn’t a bad dog, but she does not come when called. I couldn’t find her in any of her haunts. I was at the door, ready to run out into the street looking for her when I saw Yvette coming toward me carrying her. “Missing something?”  Yes, she had gotten out. She’s figured out that she can push that unlatched door open. This is new. Fortunately, she hadn’t headed out to the street. She went down to the gate to the lower driveway leading to Yvette’s house. Now I know I have to make sure the door is latched. 

            I got a report that a teen I know was depressed. What else is new? This Covid thing is particularly hard on our teens. Damon took August to the doctor with a panic attack. The doctor said he sees several of these each week. There is a lack of good stress and an overabundance of bad stress for all of us. I remember being an adolescent during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I was at a summer sleepover camp. We were thinking it was the end of the world. I’m considering this might be the end of life as I have known it; I’m just calmer about it than I was at 15.  

            Yesterday, Damon told me to write a script for my PowerPoint presentation. I spent a good part of the day working on that. It helps to write down the words, but I don’t want to sound like I’m reading it.

            Late in the afternoon, Yvette called to say that Josh hadn’t been feeling good all day and was feeling worse now. They were off for Covid testing. Darby had called earlier than usual to tell me that a Hawaiian slack-stringed guitar player was on the radio for the next hour. I told her about Josh. She decided not to join me on our walk today. I’m 100% in agreement. I would rather miss our evening walks than be responsible for getting her sick any day of the week.