Saturday, January 21, 2017


 


Dancing in the hospital

January 21, 2017

Oh frabjulous day! I have my computer at the hospital. I was not doing well with the iPad—couldn’t blog at all. This will be short because I haven’t found quite the right position yet. And it will be full of typos. Bear with me, please.

Jacob went to his second cotillion last night and demonstrated his new moves with his mom Their fun and joy in many ways brings to life our approach to my surgery. It certainly has been a family affair,


I am doing well, not too much pain, walking a bit. I have been surrounded by love from family and friends—most important for healing. Colin came from Tomball, Megan from Austin, and Jamie from Frisco. Their own lives have called them home but my Fort Worth child, Jordan, is here, full of love but tough as can be when necessary. Tonight we two sit in my hospital room with our electronic devices.

We’re not sure I’m in a hospital. Maybe a five-star hotel? Jacob asked me what I do all day and I tried to explain physical therapy and vital signs and medicine delivery and doctor visits—and naps.
My room has a second smaller room in it—guest accommodations. Kids have taken turns there. Tonight Jordan and Jacob will be my ”guests.”

The room has a large window to the southwest. From the third floor it seems you’re looking at prairie at night though that prairie is dotted with twinkling lights. There are a lot of people out there. We watched a great storm roll through tonight.


We kept the D.C. march on most of the day but muted. I wondered if they actually marched from point A to point B or just milled around listening to speeches and music, none of which interested me. They do march—well, straggle. Loved the sea of pink hats.

I have a lot of friends who marched in various cities. A special shout-out to Judy and Bill Fleener. Judy and I grew up together, and I know they are both “of an age” where marching might be difficult. They march for me, for you, for all of us.

Peace.


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1 comment:

Victor Wadsworth said...

We marched in spirt, love those ladies that made the marches.