Saturday, October 31, 2015

On falling down and going forward

These things happened on Wednesday, which I started to write about but forgot to finish.

I woke up thinking about when or whether I would take the Exjade, and then I remembered that I am done. I still haven't gotten around to getting rid of the pills, and it occurred to me maybe I should keep an empty bottle as a remembrance of what I used to have to do on most mornings for some six years. A normal day without having to do it would be an extra special gift.

Then, I went to the round robin in Enfield. Unfortunately, as soon as I got back on hard courts, my big toe hurt again. But I had taken a little ibuprofen, even though I am not supposed to make a habit of it due to its effects on the kidneys. The play was great. At the end, when I was chasing a backhand, I slipped and fell. As I was lying on my back, I asked if I had made the shot. I guess you could say it was a "good fall," compared to some of my others when I hit my head and got badly injured. I had a scrape on my elbow, but I prevented a bruise on my hip from getting too bad because I sat on an ice pack on the way home.

Everyone looked at the smooth bottom of my shoes and said it was time for a new pair. When Karen looked at them up at the front desk, she reminded me that she had sold me a newer pair and I was wearing old ones. It took me a few minutes to remember the cute newer ones with the blue and green accents that my foot and orthotics guru Ken Holt had frowned on when I went to see him about my toe problem. "Just looking at those shoes makes my feet hurt," he said of those and the shoes I had been running in. I donated them to the Y and totally forgot to notice how worn out the tread was on my old pair.

I bought a new pair from Karen and will pop them on when I go to the clinic on Monday.

After tennis when I got picked up for my ride to Boston, I saw that there was another passenger in the car. I think that this company, Sonic Transportation, did not get the message that I am supposed to ride alone, but I wasn't going to make a stink about it. Although not upsetting like the woman who yelled at me, this passenger was disconcerting because she turned away from me and never said a word.

The ECP went smoothly until after the fifth cycle, when the needle started to hurt. I discussed with the nurses the possibility of doing five instead of six, and they thought that was a good idea because it doesn't make a big difference and my vein starts to complain during the sixth. Melissa gave the OK, so that's what we're going to do next week.

It was pouring when I got out. It turns out that the other woman had been finished at Mass General at around 4 and had to wait in the car with the driver until I got out at 7. This seemed like a bad situation for both of them. It poured all the way back. I talked to the driver a bit and he said he had just started, having previously worked two jobs at Rite Aid and Walmart, and he liked this better. Still, a day like that didn't seem so great to me. When we got to my house, I reached into my bag and pulled out a handful of dollar bills that I gave him.

At first he didn't want to take the tip, but I told him many of the other drivers have not been so nice and I felt sorry for the day that he had and he should buy himself a beer or whatever he needed. He said thanks and see you next time.

When I got home I could only have broth and a popsicle due to preparation for my colonoscopy the next day. The less said about that, the better, except that it was nice being driven by the super cheerful Joan Vohl Hamilton, who, afterwards, took me to her house and gave me a big container of warm, freshly made applesauce that was probably the best I ever had.

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