The last time I saw the baby, I got sick. That was more than three weeks ago. I thought that it would just be a cold or quite possibly a short lived flu… Wrong !!!
My cold just got worse. And added to that I was taking a new pill, and I could not differentiate whether it was the pill making me sick, or something else. When that question arises, in any situation, one should roll the clock back to the point where everything was well and good. And if you can pin point what it was, at that point that changed, one figures out what to do.
I stopped taking the pill, until I could prove otherwise, that IT wasn’t making me sick. All the while, I am spending way too much money on over the counter medication, cough syrup and other cold ending drugs. I had a problem. The simple shit wasn’t doing the trick.
Being immuno-compromised, you must always fear a bug getting worse. Your T- Cells, aren’t always going to work their magic. Sometimes shit gets past the sensors.
I had a laundry list for my doctor, whom I called first thing when I rolled out of bed.
My doctor is not in his office everyday of the week. So it was a shot in the dark to call and actually get his receptionist on the other end.
I am pumped up on over the counter shit, if I sleep on my right side, I wheeze and cough. If I sleep on my left side, I am clear to go. “problem!!!”
I had things to do and places to go, and there was nobody to do my sober chores for me. I got ready to go, and headed for the Metro. I had to make a trip all the way to the East end, to the inter-group office to pick up chips for my guys. UGH !!!
I had a call into my doctor by that point. He had not called back, so I called him again, before I got on the train, I needed to see him, today, if it was possible. I got the green light, to see him, so I ran my errands, because he was not expecting me until around 4.
I was headed way east, I hit my destination with plenty of time. Then I had to decide what to do next. I was on the far side of the grid which lends the ability to take the green line back into the grid and make a transfer to the line that will take me to the line I needed.
There are four lines … Green, Orange, Yellow and Blue.
Quick Metro lesson …
One the left you see Atwater on the green line. I live near that station. I traveled to Pie IX station on the far side East on the Green line. On the way back, I changed stations at Berri (see big yellow box) on the right hand side. This is one connection point between the two solitude’s, the green line and the orange line.
I needed to make my way to the Blue line, which is a trek up the Orange line to Jean Talon station, upper right hand section of the grid. I made my transit towards that doctors office, Which is on the Blue Line at Acadie.
Because to come all the way home, to go all the way back out was pointless.
I had confidence I would get in today, so I packed a book in my bag.
When I got to the doctors office, it was 2 o’clock. Doc told me not to show up before 4.
As is always, I always wait, I am always the last patient, sometimes that is a good thing, because I get ALL the time that I need.
I dressed in my most flashy, long sleeve Sunflower (read:Yellow), shirt.
I get to the doctors office, I walk upstairs, and the office is packed to the rafters, all the chairs were taken and there were men standing up waiting on their wives. In our Greek community, you never travel alone. People travel in packs.
Today I noticed a trend …
As I walked upstairs into the office, it was as if I was walking into a funeral home, being the brightest flower amid a sea of black. Everybody was dressed in black, the men included.
I felt like Luna Lovegood at the Weasley wedding… (10 points if you get that reference).
I had a book, I had a Pepsi, and I had M&M’s … I was good to go.
A few minutes later, I even got a chair to sit in.
I had wanted to ask that question … But it slipped my mind.
I saw my doc. He said I had a little right side pneumonia going on, and maybe a little Bronchitis while we were at it. He gave me some serious Nuclear Fusion antibiotics to take, and sent me on my way.
I left the house at 12:30 in the afternoon. I got home, at was six o’clock.
On the way OUT, I get to the mall, heading for the Metro, and I look up and god dammit, as I live and breathe, there are CHRISTMAS decorations hanging from the ceiling. On the way home, I walk home from that same mall, and wouldn’t you know it, The city has put up the damned flashy light Christmas decorations on the street poles.
Today is November 5th …
Isn’t there something that goes a bit like this:
“Remember, Remember the 5th of November.”
Yeah I will remember it because those damned Christmas decorations are up already !
A long day was had by all.
I completed an entire circuit of the Metro. Feeling strong, I popped a pill and waited for the evening event. The Thursday night meeting. It was time to get back on the hobby horse and give hubby a break, that break being me in the house all the time.
I saw some friends that crossed my path over the weekend, last. There was conversation.
Before I knew it, it was 2 minutes to eight.
I ran back inside, thankfully we had our seats saved with jackets.
Our woman spoke. As she was introduced, she got to the table, and rearranged herself a bit, looked up at us, she took a deep breath, as tears swam in her eyes, and she said the following:
“My husband just walked in the doors!”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house after that.
In the end we celebrated five and twenty eight years, respectively.
Five years is a good chunk of time, when you get there.
You come in, and you make your months, then your year, and get that medallion. If you stay sober, you get a silver oval chip at two years, that is a milestone for us, because that silver oval two year chip, gets dipped in gold and you get it again at ten years.
The next stop on the time line is Five years. It is the first marker of serious time.
Then you hit Ten years, Fifteen, Twenty, and multiples thereafter.
Last week we celebrated over sixty years in the same room. And tonight, one of the sponsors, thought out loud, to the rest of us … “Who was here sixty years ago?” Our woman has been in that room for more than twenty herself.
We hopped a bus right away, on the way home.
As I crossed Ste Catherine’s Street towards my building, I got into the slip stream of several people, walking in the same direction I was, walking towards my building. Everybody was walking at their speeds, some making ways for others, and some passing others, left or right, giving them wide berths as not to interrupt their gait…
I pulled up, behind a young woman in white “come fuck me pumps…”
She was headed for my building.
Now it either goes like this, One, you have the key to the door, Two, they have a key to the door, or Three, They are going to wait until you let them in the door while they pay not one ounce of attention to you while in the vestibule.
She was aloof and sucking very hard on some kind of Starbucks frothy drink.
She did not, in any way, notice who I was, nor that I had opened the door. She just floated in the door, unaware, while she was sucking on her drink.
We got in the elevator, and she got off a few floors up. Once again, not even a look !
Yes, dear girl in the “Come fuck me pumps” I opened the door for you, and you didn’t even acknowledge I was even there…
God give me strength…