Thumb Enchanted Evening
September 29, 2014
I like my new doctor. When I went in for the injection she had been covering for two other missing doctors on her floor. I was ten minutes late, but she wasn’t able to get around to me for about an hour anyway. I sat in my exam room for the longest, blankest time after having had my BP and temperature taken. After this long, slow passage of time in the smaller catacombs of this newish building (that is already being added onto…it’s air conditioning perhaps too efficient for me…) I was almost on the verge of shivering. I felt like a trapped insect in suspended animation awaiting the spider’s return at its more leisure pace. I caught a bit of her barking orders in the corridor from two different nurses at the same time when I’d ventured out to go to the bathroom. My resurgent bladder aided by the ultra powerful diuretic broke the spell for me.
She seems a little loud in regular voice. In our short amount of conversation I found out that she has three boys and likes to ski Breckenridge. The appointment card given to me earlier said, “D.O.”, which by the number of pregnant women walking in the same time as me I took to mean Doctor of Osteopathy. No matter. She still did the injection just fine, but it still felt like I was having my left thumb hydraulically separated from my hand until the local part of the shot kicked in. Then I got a new fiberglass and Velcro splint, and yet another prescription. She said I could get two injections per year for this and briefed me that only her older patients get three.
The next three days were a challenge to rest and not use it. I drew sculpture on computer and dreamed of ways to make them. It was depressing. I think the technical term is “decrepitus”. I finally made it into town late and uploaded an export of what I drew. No time to get on Facebook, and so I just said forget about it to myself, giving cause to examine what a waste of time that can be. I went to Lowe’s and bought some electrical stuff to finish the studio lighting, ate at Popeye’s and then went to the studio. I prepped and painted some more of the brick wall underneath the window through dizzy spells caused by as much as turning ninety degrees. I listen to some music that seemed to stop time for a while and rested in the recliner. I started to feel good again. Then I got groceries and went home. I got there just as a couple adult foxes were running by my place. They scattered when I pulled into the driveway in a gruff. Kitty came right in. It was as if he were glad I got there when I did.
Now it’s Monday. A week after I’ve adjusted to the alpha-blocker somewhat; feel run-down. When I first started taking it it gave me flu-like side-effects. It’s hard to get going without doing something like writing or drawing. I say this having not had coffee yet by 10:29AM. I re-do the east elevation on my house finding the portico off center along with all the windows. I go through the process of figuring out how arched trusses are made from straight timbers. I decide that I need more curves in my building.
September 30, 2014
Awakened to Tuvan throat whistling music, I must’ve drawn until 4:00AM with strange BBC Radio stories to accompany me. So…doing the math…um(*sip of coffee*)…five hours of sleep. (Vickie’s show begins at 9:00AM) I piped the concentrator into the mask at 1.5 liters/min. Feel okay. Dry eyes, but okay. There was a windstorm yesterday evening and at this time of year it’s caused the older rear pine needles to molt off their branches. Everything is covered in a fresh blanket of russet straw. Aside from the wonderful color this is enervating! I start by sweeping it off the porch in my PJs. The road grader is finally making the rounds after the damaging rains two weeks ago. I decide to go out there and level his edge out at my driveway T-in. He has a new thing attached to the back that has eight wheels on his Volvo grader to compact his work out. This turns into a quick harvest of pine needles to get it off my mind. They lose their color quickly after they drop to the ground and solidify into the grass if I don’t rake them. I make a token effort now. [- - -One year I collected what I estimated to be 1,200 gallons of pine needles in plastic 55 gallon bags which sat along the driveway until I could take them to the burn pit run by the local Fire Department. They made me de-bag them and take the plastic home. I’ve needed family help in this, but they haven’t been up here since 2008. I thought it would be an annual fall thing they’d look forward to, especially with the nice weather. I try not to think about it. It’s disappointing….Moving on. People care about what they are interested in. There’s no faulting them. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink. (…You would think one could do something to make them thirsty though, lo, these many years I’ve left out bowls of theater popcorn (***always fresh bowls!!!*** and beer nuts.) - - -]
<3 my __( X )__ people…(i.e. fambly & sucky friends.)
There was also a power outage during the storm. The darkness did higher math on my depression. Mere addition and multiplication are old memories now. I lit my plain white candle in the tall glass tumbler and continued to read in bed with Jamaal’s May’s most recent book of poetry, Hum. Somehow that seemed to ameliorate it. It enriched the seemingly lost day into the “Not Over Yet” column with long-division and subtraction.
Time to clean up after writing. Three-day beard suddenly went to eight somehow. “Groove is in the Heart” on the radio. Yeah that was the funky giddy-up that I needed. It’s sunny and nice again.
I like my new doctor. When I went in for the injection she had been covering for two other missing doctors on her floor. I was ten minutes late, but she wasn’t able to get around to me for about an hour anyway. I sat in my exam room for the longest, blankest time after having had my BP and temperature taken. After this long, slow passage of time in the smaller catacombs of this newish building (that is already being added onto…it’s air conditioning perhaps too efficient for me…) I was almost on the verge of shivering. I felt like a trapped insect in suspended animation awaiting the spider’s return at its more leisure pace. I caught a bit of her barking orders in the corridor from two different nurses at the same time when I’d ventured out to go to the bathroom. My resurgent bladder aided by the ultra powerful diuretic broke the spell for me.
She seems a little loud in regular voice. In our short amount of conversation I found out that she has three boys and likes to ski Breckenridge. The appointment card given to me earlier said, “D.O.”, which by the number of pregnant women walking in the same time as me I took to mean Doctor of Osteopathy. No matter. She still did the injection just fine, but it still felt like I was having my left thumb hydraulically separated from my hand until the local part of the shot kicked in. Then I got a new fiberglass and Velcro splint, and yet another prescription. She said I could get two injections per year for this and briefed me that only her older patients get three.
The next three days were a challenge to rest and not use it. I drew sculpture on computer and dreamed of ways to make them. It was depressing. I think the technical term is “decrepitus”. I finally made it into town late and uploaded an export of what I drew. No time to get on Facebook, and so I just said forget about it to myself, giving cause to examine what a waste of time that can be. I went to Lowe’s and bought some electrical stuff to finish the studio lighting, ate at Popeye’s and then went to the studio. I prepped and painted some more of the brick wall underneath the window through dizzy spells caused by as much as turning ninety degrees. I listen to some music that seemed to stop time for a while and rested in the recliner. I started to feel good again. Then I got groceries and went home. I got there just as a couple adult foxes were running by my place. They scattered when I pulled into the driveway in a gruff. Kitty came right in. It was as if he were glad I got there when I did.
Now it’s Monday. A week after I’ve adjusted to the alpha-blocker somewhat; feel run-down. When I first started taking it it gave me flu-like side-effects. It’s hard to get going without doing something like writing or drawing. I say this having not had coffee yet by 10:29AM. I re-do the east elevation on my house finding the portico off center along with all the windows. I go through the process of figuring out how arched trusses are made from straight timbers. I decide that I need more curves in my building.
September 30, 2014
Click to viewAwakened to Tuvan throat whistling music, I must’ve drawn until 4:00AM with strange BBC Radio stories to accompany me. So…doing the math…um(*sip of coffee*)…five hours of sleep. (Vickie’s show begins at 9:00AM) I piped the concentrator into the mask at 1.5 liters/min. Feel okay. Dry eyes, but okay. There was a windstorm yesterday evening and at this time of year it’s caused the older rear pine needles to molt off their branches. Everything is covered in a fresh blanket of russet straw. Aside from the wonderful color this is enervating! I start by sweeping it off the porch in my PJs. The road grader is finally making the rounds after the damaging rains two weeks ago. I decide to go out there and level his edge out at my driveway T-in. He has a new thing attached to the back that has eight wheels on his Volvo grader to compact his work out. This turns into a quick harvest of pine needles to get it off my mind. They lose their color quickly after they drop to the ground and solidify into the grass if I don’t rake them. I make a token effort now. [- - -One year I collected what I estimated to be 1,200 gallons of pine needles in plastic 55 gallon bags which sat along the driveway until I could take them to the burn pit run by the local Fire Department. They made me de-bag them and take the plastic home. I’ve needed family help in this, but they haven’t been up here since 2008. I thought it would be an annual fall thing they’d look forward to, especially with the nice weather. I try not to think about it. It’s disappointing….Moving on. People care about what they are interested in. There’s no faulting them. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink. (…You would think one could do something to make them thirsty though, lo, these many years I’ve left out bowls of theater popcorn (***always fresh bowls!!!*** and beer nuts.) - - -]
<3 my __( X )__ people…(i.e. fambly & sucky friends.)
There was also a power outage during the storm. The darkness did higher math on my depression. Mere addition and multiplication are old memories now. I lit my plain white candle in the tall glass tumbler and continued to read in bed with Jamaal’s May’s most recent book of poetry, Hum. Somehow that seemed to ameliorate it. It enriched the seemingly lost day into the “Not Over Yet” column with long-division and subtraction.
Time to clean up after writing. Three-day beard suddenly went to eight somehow. “Groove is in the Heart” on the radio. Yeah that was the funky giddy-up that I needed. It’s sunny and nice again.