in the middle of it all

In the middle of it all, my GPS gets stolen out of my car last night, my doctor has no record of my appointment when I get there today, and a lens falls out of my glasses tonight.

In the middle of it all, I’m planning to drive 5 hours to go to my cousin’s daughter’s wedding this weekend.

In the middle of it all, my cheap new small cpu arrives and is working like a charm.

In the middle of it all, my doctor takes me anyway, and I find out that my spinal X-ray showed something I can’t pronounce but has something to do with bone growth connecting my vertebrae, limiting my range of motion. The next step is an MRI. My blood test shows that I have less than half of the minimum necessary amount of Vitamin D.

In the middle of it all, I fill five prescriptions.

In the middle of it all, my grandson reads me his printing practice sheets, gives me a memory test (which I fail), invites me to play with his miniature veterinary clinic pieces, and runs over to say goodnight (as he does every night).

In the middle of it all, I have no idea how my mother is.

In the middle of it all, I blog.

Life goes.

3 thoughts on “in the middle of it all

  1. …and move forward one step at a time. One minute at a time. One breath at a time. Move forward. I can’t speak to letting go, to letting go of control (or for that matter, just input). I am not good at it either.
    But one step at a time…put focus where things are good (and there is some good. Even if it’s only your grandson…he’s full of enough joy for all of us to tap into).
    One. At. A. Time.

  2. You were there for me when I was doing just that … one foot in front of the other. One step … next step. Time passes. Some say “It’s Lent.” Others, “Shit happens.” Doesn’t matter – it’s still one foot in front of the other.

    Then again, some might ask:

    “Jesus Elaine, just what did you do to have to work all this stuff off?”

    Doesn’t matter – it’s still one foot in front of the other.

    Melissa’s quite right. But you also have a hell of an e-mail list, you know. You should be able to count on old friends when you need them.

    As long as you know that, eh :)?

  3. remember that talisman you made for me? the one that was supposed to promote creativity and courage and radical change? it’s somewhere in the cardboard box they made me put all my stuff in when they had security escort me off the job site back in october.

    radical change of the sort i yearned for did happen – just not in the way i imagined it. i got fired. i got a new diagnosis and more meds. i got kicked out of the house, grudgingly allowed back in on a probationary basis, and went into couples therapy.

    i also wrote over a dozen new instrumental electronic music compositions, posted them to a website, and have some new fans. i’m in touch with a bunch of childhood friends, and a bunch of new ones, through Facebook. some things are up, some things down, and some things right where i left them. my once frantic blogging has fallen to near zero. i have a low-paying job that i love and look forward to every day. my wife and i are both trying to start our own businesses.

    i see the changes you’ve made and i just want to jump up off of this couch and cheer for you. there’s still heartbreak and difficulty obviously, but there is also ease and even joy. i’m sad for your family’s woes but know, somehow, in my heart, that everything will eventually return to the center from which they came.

    hang in there.

Comments are closed.