No whining

Not exactly a New Year's Resolution, just a goal fot the sake of focus. Besides, I don't want to commit to more measurable goals like weight loss. For a week of non-whining, I can report only getting caught once.

I called the heater repair company because we were cold. The outside box (compressor?) was covered in thick ice and the system was sounding unhappy. The receptionist told me "Sugar, it's 38 degrees outside, and your heater is just doing the best as it can. Go put on a sweater." She sounded like she had had a few too many calls already. And too much coffee. I noted that she hadn't taken my name or phone number, so I was not on the list for a service call. But then I hadn't asked for one either. I had just called to whine.

I put on a sweater and made some coffee, and C. J. came in and complained that he was cold. So I said "Sugar, it's 38 degrees outside, and your heater is just doing the best as it can. Here's a sweater." June came by later to drop off her space heater, which are gone from the stores. She was flying off to Texas, which might be warmer. We will sit by the heater or drag it around by its cord like a dog on a leash and hope she doesn't come home until it warms up a little here.

Mr. Teapot Head

C. J. and I were eating lunch at the Shrimp Store today, when a man came in with friends and sat at the next table. He had the worst comb-over I've ever seen. A lock of hair, about one inch by twelve, had escaped and formed a graceful curve down the back of his head. He had a serious nose, and in profile he looked just like a teapot. He had violated the equator rule by parting his hair all the way around in the lower latitudes, and gravity had its way. It was hard to look away, like driving by a traffic accident. I really had the urge to stop by the table and stick it back on top with a damp finger. But I didn't.

We often see people that must not own a mirror. If you had a full length mirror by your door you would not go out with a roll of yourself hanging out between your shirt and your jeans, would you? How about the stretch knit stuff that hugs every pudge and crease? How about sandals with gnarly toes and long toenails hanging over the edge? Are these intentional but unfortunate choices? Do they stand in front of a mirror and get the look they want? I confess that I once wore pink fuzzy slippers around town for half a day before I noticed. And I'm reaching the age that such is expected. Am I old enough to confront these people and point out their flaws?

Hair?

When I got out of the shower and toweled my head, it didn't look so shiny. Can't see anything, but I'm hopeful. It's been a month since the last chemo treatment, so maybe, just maybe. . .I won't have to decorate my head every morning.

Last week I had my last weekly checkup (now comes the every three month checkup) and told the valet who parks my car that I wouldn't be seeing him much. He said "Well, let's make a clean break of it. Don't ask if we can just be friends, because that never works."

I'm already dreading the three-month checkups. I guess I want this to be all behind me, when I know it's not. As dear friend Mike wrote recently, lifelong watching is just one more aspect of this disease. He quotes from Coleridge "like one who on a lonesome road, doth walk in fear and dread, and having once turned round walks on and turns no more his head, because he knows a frightful fiend doth close behind him tread." That is no way to live. I plan to throw back my shoulders, put on a happy face, and get on with it!

Big Thoughts

...."A human being is a part of the whole, called by us, "Universe," a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest -- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security."Albert Einstein - (1879-1955) Physicist and Professor, Nobel Prize 1921=

This ties with my ponderings about our search for connectedness. We reach out for others every time we visit with the neighbors at the garbage can, call or e-mail our friends, comment on their Facebook entries, join a church or group of special interests, contribute to a cause, and it is a good thing. I enjoy sending a small check to Doctors Without Borders, the Nature Conservancy, and Heifer International because it's a way to touch millions that I will never know. Heifer lets me give a breeding pair of goats to a family far away and surprise members of my family with a pair of virtual goats. Check it out at www.heifer.org

Albert would be proud of you.

Dear United Health:

You are now calling yourself Secure Horizons, among other changes that make me uncomfortable. Don’t you think the new name sounds sort of ephemeral? Like when you’re flying, the horizon is just always disappearing?

I have sent in two claims for reimbursement, both returned with a terse note from the post office: “Return to Sender; No such addressee.” Since your Florida address didn’t seem to be working, I called Customer service in Salt Lake City. I reached “Rick,” who seemed to have an accent. But then, I’ve never spoken to a Utah native, so what do I know? I asked him about the weather and he said they are having the monsoons. He suggested that I quit trying to raise Secure Horizons in Florida and send everything to United in Utah, contrary to what your notices say.

Okay, I like the old name. Reminds me of United States, United We Stand, United Fruit, real solid. However, I’m not sure it will work any better to get me my reimbursements. Want a suggestion? Give us a little more personal attention. And maybe change your name to “Aunt Bea’s Health Insurance and Guava Jelly Kitchen.”

Hey, Morons

You know who you are. You send me these endless e-mails about illegal immigrants, health care nightmares and such. If you believe this stuff, you are a moron. If you don’t, you are making me think you are. You are all entitled to your own opinions, but not your own facts.

Fact: Illegal immigrants do not vote, receive Social Security or Medicare and no one is proposing that they do.

Opinion: Many of you don’t know the difference in an illegal immigrant and a doorbell. Many of our citizens are immigrants.

Fact: Most of our hospitals are required to treat anyone that comes in as an emergency. If you have appendicitis, you don’t have to show your birth certificate or naturalization papers.

Opinion: Thank God.

Fact: The government has no plans to take over health care, except for the 40% of the payments it is already making. (Not counting tax breaks for private coverage.)

Opinion: Maybe it should. We don’t get to vote the insurance executives out of office.

Fact: The public option in the House bill is to catch those whom the insurance companies kick out because they get sick or won’t insure because they may be.

Opinion: This scares the hell out of the insurance industry, and may kill the bill.

Fact: Our country went from a balanced budget at the end of the Clinton administration to a 10 trillion deficit as of 2008.

Opinion: Don’t blame Obama.

Fact: I have been a registered Republican most of my life.

Opinion: misguided youth.

Fact: The World Health Organization pegs our health care system at number 32, just above Cuba ; France is number one.

Opinion: If you hate our country so much, move to France.

Me and my wig

Well, I settled on a 50's revival look. June's traveling with Grease and said I would fit right in. Well, it beats looking like Alton Brown (Good Eats) or Charlie Brown (Peanuts.) Wig and I will be inseparable for about 6 months, but a do-rag works around the house just fine. Some people go commando. I'd hate to scare the yard man.

First outing was yesterday, when I met an old friend for lunch downtown. She lost 50 pounds and got a facelift and we didn't recognize each other. A waiter finally figured it out and got us together. It helps to be well known among waiters. They all know CJ and what he eats.

He stayed home yesterday, involuntarily. He lives for lunch, a habit formed over many years of hanging out with his friends while I was working. I quit paying yacht club dues when it appeared that he was running with a bad crowd. Those bad boys drank way too much, and picked on him when he didn't drink at all. The real reason I quit paying was that they wouldn't let me eat there. Ladies were restricted to the room where they played cards. I went in with a few other lawyers of the male persuasion one day after a court appearance. They tried to seat them in the regular dining room and send me upstairs. Fortunately the guys suggested we go elsewhere. Black and Jewish men had already made the cut, long before women. Hell yeah I was pissed.