Sunday, May 15, 2022

 Sunday, May 15, 2022

 

  The iPhone charging cord by my bedside didn't work last night. Damon told me they wear out. I plugged it into my computer. I had to remember to see if I had another one in the house. If not, I had to buy another one immediately. I also had to buy a new toothbrush. I thought I had one in the house, but I couldn't find it. I would pick up one on my way home from church.    

   I had another disturbed night's sleep. I was still concerned about the outcome of the surgery, short-term and long-term, because of all the discouraging things my bodyworkers have said. However, yesterday, Katie changed her tune because of the X-ray results of my femoral head. My left one is starting to flake. That predicts femoral head collapse. 

    Now that I'm fully committed to the surgery, a second concern has developed. Would I be able to have the surgery on June 2? There's a surge in Covid infections in Hawaii; it's one of the worst in the nation. I could get Covid; the surgeon could get Covid; the surgical support staff could get Covid; the hospital could be overwhelmed and cancel all elective surgeries. The possibilities are endless. Will the market collapse and leave me without enough money to pay my Kaiser premiums if it is postponed? There are so many possibilities. I just love living in interesting times. I was not coping well. I let fear get the upper hand. Very unpleasant.

    I ran into Brian, the Glickstein's tenant, on one of my short walks. He heard I was scheduled for THR and wished me well. As we were talking, my alarm went off. It was 8:30—time to leave for church now. I usually set one for half an hour before departure time. I hadn't dressed yet. I hightailed it home, changed, and headed out.

   I arrived at church just as the bell rang at the start of mass. I didn't go inside. I sat on the lanai for extra protection from contamination. I was determined not to get sick before the surgery. 

    It proved to be a tough day. Grief was knocking me out. It was weird. I didn't think as much about missing Mike as missing the happier person I was when he was around. However, I started to weep when I thought of him and his warm, loving ways. Thinking of him is more relaxing than just focusing on what was missing because he was not here. I didn't know which aspect of what he had to offer I missed most. Did I miss the sense of safety he afforded me the way my dad offered me refuge from my mom? Did I miss the loving way he was with me and allowed me to be with him? Did I miss having someone else to think about besides myself? Did I miss someone to comfort and be comforted by when things disappointed? Did I miss the reality check he offered me? Whatever it is, it is a deep, deep sense of missing.

   From what I read, depression is not the same as grief. Medication can alleviate depression but not grief. Grief is longing for something. I don't think I am depressed. I can respond to something positive, be it a visit from the Damons or a turkey walking in the street with her babies.

   I stopped at Long's. I needed a new battery-powered toothbrush. The Oral Pro was dying on me. Long's didn't have the same brand; it had a better one. It's more powerful and doesn't have as many crannies to collect mold. I also picked up a noodle on the way out, keeping myself upright in the water as per Katie's recommendation. All I need now is ankle weights. Long's also had some 10 oz. bags of Hersey's milk chocolate kisses with whole almonds. I was planning to start giving up sugar. The heck with that! 

    Isaac texted me asking if he could bring over a lady he met in his walk around the block who he thought I would like and would like me. I think I ran into Jackie on one of my longer walks around the block. I had a positive reaction to her. I thought we could be friends too. I recommended coming over at 1. He wrote back; she preferred three. I had the M & W sisters then and Jana at 5 pm. I suggested we find another time. I was in too much pain to deal with a social event. I wasn't sure how I would cope with the girls.

   I took a nice long nap. While I didn't wake up still tired, neither did I get the kind of deep rest I have had in the past. I think grief follows me into sleep. 

   I had the sisters at 3 pm. I asked first grade M if letter and number reversals bothered her a lot. She said no, not really. I did some work with recalling two-digit and finally four-digit numbers. She got them all in the right order. I made a mistake with one. Then we did some word recognition. She read a passage at a high 2nd or low 3rd-grade level. She is still in first, although he should be in 2nd. Now, in the name of full disclosure, we read this passage two weeks ago. Nonetheless, she worked on decoding each word. When I tried to give a hint, she'd say, "No, no! Don't tell me. I want to figure it out myself." This is a fantastic development. When we started, she would get up and walk away when the work didn't come easily. I texted the parents. The only response was it was a good thing she was trying on her own. I don't think they get what a sea change this is and how significant for her future. We ended the session with the question comprehension activity, asking many questions about one sentence at a time. She still needs to be reminded to use the words in the sentence in the IN THE BOOK section.

   With 5th grade W, she chose to continue working with the Phase III activity. We were using a story she had written for the activity. She had to read a sentence, memorize it, and then dictate it back to me one word at a time, spelling each word. I asked her about her writing; had it improved? She said everything seemed easier. Afterward, her dad told me her teacher saw a big improvement in her reading. I suspect the work we are doing with the spelling made the difference. I remember Aylet Cox saying that the children she tutored in her Orton-Gillingham program reported the most helpful activity was the spelling activity. That's what Phase III is. I don't think you can start there. Maybe I'll experiment someday and see if that's the shortest route to good reading.

   I did some paperwork. Yesterday, I wrote a check to a company, placed it in an envelope, and put it in the mailbox. Today, I got the same checkbook to write B a check for the two packs of Costco toilet paper. There was my check to the company. I had put the wrong check into the envelope. I put a check for the gardener I wrote so Yvette could pay him if I had to stay in Oahu after the operation. Fortunately, the mail delivery/pickup is irregular. The envelope was still in my mailbox. I opened the envelope without damaging it, put in the correct check, and put the envelope back in the mailbox. It may be there for another two days.

    Darby called. I had called earlier and spoken to Patrick. I was concerned they didn't know there was a yellow bag sitting by their mailbox. They put it out. Saturday was the post office's food pick-up day. No one picked it up. I explained the post office is badly understaffed. Our mail delivery is erratic at best. Sometimes it doesn't come for days, and then there is a delivery on Sunday. They're badly understaffed. 

   The jazz on HPR tonight was so much to my taste, I didn't turn on Netflix or Amazon. Wonderful!