May7, 2013

DRIVING MR. BOONE

Yesterday I drove for the first time in months.  By myself.  Pauline may feel like the mother of a teenager.  It was an easy drive to the clinic and back but it’s another step.   I’m still skinny as a rail but I was up 2 pounds at the weigh-in today.  That’s after holding steady for three days at 119 pounds.  I’ve never had a weight problem, till now, but this is ridiculous. 

Still, day by day I’m getting stronger.  My blood numbers are good.  I’m on an often interrupted Tuesday/Saturday schedule.  And the last couple of times I have not had to stay after class for a IV of something with a long unpronounceable name.  I think the mid-day nap may be becoming part habit instead of all disease related.  I like naps.  Heck I like sleeping.  Maybe that’s why I kept my eyes closed so much in the hospital, especially the rough spots; treating the whole thing like a dream or nightmare.  Both are over when you wake and neither stays in your memory more than minutes, usually.

In my case Pauline is my memory for the dreamares and she has told me some, but I suspect not all, of them.  She told me of a night when I was dreaming that I was talking to major client on the phone. She knew this because I was talking out loud, quite distinctly and calling him by name. Being bored, Pauline decided to see if she could play the part of Mr. S.  And she did. I should note that Pauline knows the man in question and, in fact, told him this story just a couple of days ago. As Mr. S. she told me that I was their favorite architect and that they were giving me a huge new project.  Heck they like me so much they might just give me all their projects.   I’m told that during the call I had my chest puffed out and sported a grin that would be the envy of the Cheshire Cat.

Of course not all the stories are so good, especially the ones from the trips to the ICU.  That got pretty rough a couple of times.  Pauline told me the other night that at one point she thought I was about to do die. Maybe it was the night of the CPR I still feel in my chest.  I don’t know.   She was convinced enough that she actually told me to go if I had to.  She told me that she would be alright.  Jesus.  I can’t imagine the situation being reversed. I’ve tried.  I cannot imagine it.

I am so glad that I have no memory of most of that part of my stay.  And I’m so glad I have Pauline.

 

Boone