April 6, 2023

 April 6, 2023

  We were supposed to have yoga today, but it started drizzling as we set up. Casey had arrived when Yvette canceled it. The weather app said no rain for today, just cloudy. The weather monitors must be at the airport. We're several hundred feet higher up the mountain. Our weather is different. If you go high enough, it is perpetually damp. You wipe the mold off your walls. People set up 'dry rooms' to keep things they don't want damaged by mold, like clothes, books, and artwork. Getting into bed at night is not a cozy treat. The sheets are cold and damp until your body warms them up.

  I had scheduled first-grade Steven (not his real name) for a session at 7:15, only to realize yesterday that it conflicted with my precious yoga class. I put it off until later, and then yoga got canceled. I called Steven's mom, and we were on again for the earlier time.

  In our first session, I taught Steven to listen for the bounces (the number of syllables) in words. He picked up on that with ease. I hoped he would become a crazed bounce detector. He didn't. Not a good sign. In this session, my goal was for him to identify the sound he made on each beat, as in Ste/ven. He did okay, except that he dropped several sounds. Steven has a slight speech defect. It is often hard to understand what he says. It is clear now why. His mom says she doesn't have trouble understanding him. I explained she understands his 'accent.' She is familiar with how he pronounces words he uses frequently.

   I had rehab at nine. I posted my daily blog, packed some food, and headed out. Katie watched me walk. It was a struggle to get her to focus on my gate instead of the contortions of my upper body. Since our last session, I have worked on relaxing my shoulder blades. She had given me an exercise. I worked on it conscientiously. With each step now, I pushed my left shoulder back, allowing my left foot to come forward more easily. Katie pointed out that I was doing it all with my shoulder where the problem with my gate was in my hips, back to the drawing board. 

   She worked on my upper arm and shoulder, as the acupuncturist did. She also felt the lump. Once you feel it, you can't unfeel it. It is a good size. She confirmed it was soft and mobile. She agreed that I should get it checked.

    Katie asked me if I had ever done Rolfing. She is the second person to mention it to me. It's a painful process to correct alignment but highly effective. I asked her if she knew anyone on the island. She thought she knew someone. She would research for me. Oh, yes, she would be off-island for eight weeks. This was news. She was taking care of some medical issues, attending a friend's wedding in Mexico, and going on a two-week vacation with her family. She figured she'd take care of everything at once. She would try to get me in for one more session. It was time to ask Kaiser to renew the prescription. 

  I stopped at Discount Warehouse to find material that would match my sofa or at least not clash with it. I bought five blue swimming noodles to block Elsa's balls from rolling under the sofa, leaving us to scramble as she scratched on the sofa, demanding that we fish them out. The blue of the noodles stands out against the blue of the sofa. 

    I wanted the material to cover the noodles. Matching the blue was out of the question. There was nothing close. Picking a neutral color, a beige, made more sense. It would blend in with the white tile floor and the beige in the Persian carpet. None of the matches were ideal. 

    I decided to try pushing the noodles further under the sofa. The balls would still be accessible, and the noodles would be less visible. I went home for a much-needed late-morning nap and slept for two hours.

   I've been down of late. I had several difficult clients, two with psychological problems that may be over my head either because of the child or because of the parent. Four others with serious learning problems. Those four have all made significant progress, which is satisfying.

  I texted Paulette asking if I could come up to get water and visit. She did not respond. She does not live attached to her phone.

  Shortly before five p.m., I got a call from Kaiser. It was a nurse calling to schedule an in-person visit with a PA to have the lump on my left upper arm checked. I got a call back in less than twenty-four hours. I texted my primary early this morning before I went on my walk. My primary is home on bed rest with a difficult pregnancy. She put the wheels in motion. I would see someone at four p.m. tomorrow. Kaiser provides the best medical care I have ever received.

   Elsa was walked by six. At six-thirty, I put down her food bowl as I headed out the door for Holy Thursday mass. I had volunteered to get my feet washed.

   The parking lot and the church were as full as they might be on a normal nine a.m. Sunday mass. I sat outside on the south lanai, as I always do. The church was freezing cold, and I prefer being outdoors when around people.

  Most of the people on the outdoor lanai were Hispanic. There was a family sitting behind me, a husband and wife and their young adult son, who was clearly autistic. I approached the dad, explained that I was having my feet washed, and asked if he would watch my purse. I assured him that I was not disturbed by his son's occasional outbursts. They weren't angry or loud, just inappropriate.

  TJ told me the foot-washing ceremony would follow the homily. When Deacon Craig got up to deliver it, I left my seat and went to the side door to the back of the church. I was ready to enter when he was through. TJ passed and said, "It has to be done in Spanish." I assumed the foot-washing ceremony would be conducted in Spanish. No, that's not what she meant. She meant Sandor would now deliver a second homily, all in Spanish. Sandor doesn't know the meaning of brief. His sermons are always longer than they should be. They're good, just too long.

  When Sandor finished, I went to the head of the center aisle. One of the ushers encouraged me to walk to the front of the church. I stood by the first pew, waiting for instructions while the priest and deacons set up. Three chairs were put out. Fr. Lio beckoned me to come up. I sat in the chair by him. He placed a black plastic basin on the floor. He indicated for me to put my foot over the basin. He poured shockingly cold water from a pitcher over my right foot. Someone passed him a towel. He daubed at my foot and indicated I should leave.

  I didn't put my shoes back on because that would have taken time. Holding them in my hand, I left the dais. 

I had to walk down two steps with no railing in sight. Balance. I was still concerned about my balance. I hesitated before stepping down, contemplating asking someone for help. I launched ahead. I made it down the two steps without incident. When I was a few pews up the center aisle, I stopped to put my shoes back on. I always lean on something when I stand on one foot. The woman in the aisle seat asked me if Fr. Lio had only bathed one foot. Yep. Only one, and there wasn't enough water to clean much of anything. It was not a very solemn event.

   The congregation was invited to sit in the parish center with the host at the end of mass. We were sitting in the garden of Gethsemane with Jesus. I considered staying but didn't want to get trapped there for hours. I had mixed feelings. I felt Mike's presence during the mass. It was lovely. Could I have extended that if I had joined other parishioners in the vigil?