TRUE CONFESSION

THERE'S SOMETHING I must tell you. I am surrounded by women, both acquaintances and longtime friends who love being independent. I admire that so much, but the truth of the matter is, now that independence is being forced upon me, I don't like it at all. Mr. Bob has always spoiled me and I've loved it and tried to show my appreciation to him. My attempts at reciprocation have not pleased him at all. He'd rather do things himself. It's taken all these years and cancer for me to realize this.


It started when it became necessary for me to become the family driver. I loved being chauffeured and Mr. Bob was always apparently happy to take me anywhere I wanted to go, even circling the block when I missed a good photo opportunity. After his accident our world became all-of-a-sudden much smaller and I could no longer take pictures out of the window as we traveled from here to there. It's been nearly two years now and my neuropathic feet still can't feel the pedals, but I'm pretty good at faking it.


Of late, he opts to stay in our apartment rather than riding along wherever we're headed. I honor that decision, but I miss his companionship tremendously. Today was a good example......it was a full day starting at 8 a.m. when I left for the hospital for pre-admittance. The woman processing me had a cold and blew her nose several times without using hand sanitizer, all the while handing me forms to sign. I didn't keep track of how many there were, but toward the end, she was licking her finger to pick up the next form and handing it to me. Not only do I not want to catch a cold this near to surgery, but we've been careful to guard Mr. Bob from exposure while he's undergoing chemotherapy. I've never thought of myself as having mysophobia, but today that was my middle name.


I thought I'd learned to be fairly straight forward in dealing with people, but I found myself unable to confront her, but my next stop was to see the admitting nurse and I was comfortable enough with him to tell all. He was astounded and promised to tell her supervisor. Next time I passed her window she wasn't there.


Next I had to go to the lab for a blood test. The lady drawing was good. I think I've told you that I've taken to asking the person at the other end of the needle if they're good at what they do, and if they brag that they are, they're usually not. Her answer when I asked was that I'd soon enough know if she was. I gave her an A+.


Then to the next room for an EKG. I made the mistake of asking the technician what she was going to be for Hallowe'en and her terse answer was that she doesn't observe Hallowe'en, so I zipped my lip.


Next was my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon who planned to talk about surgery on my knee which is becoming alarmingly knock-kneed, causing difficulty with walking. That was out of the question with what is planned for Monday morning, so it became a matter of whether to put cortisone in my shoulder or my knee. The knee won. Usually I'd have Bob's hand to hold and squeeze and I tried to keep my hand off the doctor's arm but ended up squeezing his elbow during the painful parts as he worked around the large floating bone spurs. Tears flowed, I'm ashamed to say.


All of these medical matters took quite a long time and when I got myself back to the Manor, I found it decorated for the coming day.

The costume party for residents and staff was scheduled for 2 this afternoon. Mr. Bob declined going down to fulfill his position of historian / photographer, so I filled in. Lots of creativity was evident.



Glendale has a very large Armenian population
and as a culture, are very family oriented, taking care of their own. I must say I've never been aware of a homeless Armenian, so Victor's costume was amusing and clever.

Excellent maintenance man, John

Carlos, in charge of many
departments.

Witch Hazel

One of the student interns

Ghostly nails on Jeanne, our hairdresser

Mr. Bob said he'd go for wine and cheese on the patio, but only to visit, rather than to imbibe. Once there, he drank wine, ate his share of cheese and every grape on the little bunch served to us. And then he stayed for supper, which was a good thing, even if the mixed messages mystify me.

I'm weary tonight. It was a very full day and my head aches.

Taking a bus from S.F. Chinatown
to Chinatown in Los Angeles.
And then to Glendale.

Leaving at 7 a.m. to get to
Burbank at almost 9 p.m

Susan and Chris will arrive tomorrow!

Let the laughter begin! I'm ready to be coddled and cosseted as in the days of yore. Tim's been doing a fine job and is ready for the back-up troops to arrive.



"Most of us would never consider getting our car repaired without first receiving an estimate of the charges, but this is exactly what we do when we need to go to a hospital for treatment."

Dan Lipinski