Kindness Rev 2

I’d noticed his shades in the kitchen were drawn and his girlfriend’s red Prius has been here all week. That’s off, must be something wrong.  Walking the dogs tonight, the Prius was gone, and the blinds were up and he sat in his normal place at his kitchen table.  A clear view past his garage, the street and my fence to my front door.  I felt like a glass of wine and a chat and it was obvious that whatever had gone on over the last few days was over.  I poured a glass of red into a paper coffee cup and headed across the street to his front gate.  He noticed me as I approached the sliding door to his kitchen and waved me in.  Standing up awkwardly and unlatching the lock.

Are you OK? I assumed and noted that I’d seen Sarah’s car in the middle of the week but it didn’t look like they were around.  He said Oh god what a week I’ve had and launched into his organ recital. On Monday I had 3 teeth pulled and I’ll need to get 3 um “implants, I volunteered. Yes, and it’s going to cost me over $10 grand. 

Then Wednesday I woke up and my entire mid section was as hard as cement.  I couldn’t even move the flesh on my belly.  I figured something wasn’t right so I got dressed and went down to Scripps to urgent care and they took an ultrasound and gave me something to help me sleep and sent me home.  I kept waking up so I took 2 vicodin and it put me right out. 

Then Thursday morning I still had the heavy feeling so I called Sarah to drive down and go back to the hospital with me because I had a feeling I was not going to be able to come straight home and she was here within an hour. This time the ultrasound showed my gall bladder was really inflamed and ready to blow so the doctored ordered another ultrasound to make sure there were no stones.  She told me she’d do the surgery on Thursday night if possible.  She stopped in a little after 11pm to find they hadn’t done the 2nd ultrasound yet and left to go rattle some cages and I was on my way within 5 minutes.

 Her name was Dr. Valerie something and when I asked her when she was able to sleep she told me several times a day she catches an hour or two. I’m going to write a letter to the hospital. It’s not right that they run such a lean medical staff and that they have no back up.  There’s like 12 operating rooms in one room.  Everyone is rushed and tired. 

The other

I told him off this morning.  He walked up made a negative comment and I looked right at him and said “you’re always so negative” he said, no I’m just kidding, and I said You are always so negative, please let me sit here in peace.”  He walked off.

Do I feel bad?  A little.  Would I do it again. Absolutely.  One of my writer friends said so you choose discomfort over resentment, or something like that, and I said yes.  I say yes.

Right now the positive ions are rushing through the air. You know, the positives are the negatives.  One couple friend who have always fought, part of their dynamic, are growing further and further apart, and trying to drag me into the middle.  Another has experienced a dramatic health crisis that has cascaded into the rest of their life, and the home and car they bought just before the crisis.  He’s defensive, she’s falling apart, in between working and trying to keep their home afloat.  Another couple has been facing one health issue after another, and now she is worried this is serious, and he is doing something about it, hopefully not too late.

Back to kindness

 I went to visit my neighbor across the street, an older gent, whose girlfriend of 40 years is incapacitated, and in a hospital in Kansas, moved there by her family, and he is having his own issues.  You didn’t hear what happened to me, did you, he said.  No, what.  I was wearing these diabetic shoes, you know shoes designed for people with diabetes.  They are heavy, and as you can see I’m pretty frail and skinny. I tripped on the entryway, stumbled over that first cement step and went down on my ribs.  Look, I don’t think it’s bruised but boy did it hurt.  I couldn’t sleep, and I could only sit up, couldn’t get to my feet, so I scooted down the walkway to the gate, and I was afraid to use the gate to hoist myself up, afraid it would give and I’d make this worse, so I maneuvered around so I could open the gate, and moved out onto the front grass, my pants were filty by then,  I was inching along on my butt.  What time was this, I said, he said about 4 yesterday.  I figured eventually someone would drive by and I could get help.  Didn’t see any activity over at your house, I don’t think you were home.  Finally the blonde lady next door came home and helped me up.  I went straight to bed, slept for 5 hours.  I haven’t eaten anything since this morning, it hurts when I cough.

I said, you know I’ve been thinking of getting one of those things, you know, a life alert.  He dismissed my comment and said, you know I usually take my cell phone everywhere but I was just putting some newspapers in the recycle bin in the garage.  I can usually get myself back up but I just couldn’t do it yesterday.  You need to eat, I said. 

This is my niece, went to Westlake high school.  She is so pretty and so smart.  She wanted to go to some art school that costs a fortune and is 4 years full time year round.  She’d be a great nurse or teacher, her mom talked her into going to a community college up there, near thousand oaks.  This is her graduation picture.  Did I tell you about the other one, the one who went to Culinary School in NY and then UNLV for hospitality management.  She’s a pastry chef, worked at a hotel in the Gaslamp, but has had a hard time finding a job in Vegas.  Her husband works for the Bellagio, he’s a chef also.  She just got an interview in Arizona , a Starwood group hotel, like the W.  They flew her out there, have her stay a couple days, gave her a beautiful room, and she just got a job offer.  It’s such a good one her husband is leaving his job, and will have to find a new one in Arizona.  I have to go, you need to eat, I said, standing up and sliding open the screen on the door.  I look back and wave as I close his front gate. 

To be continued

©2011 sharon j corrigan


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