Maybe I overdid?
Wed., May 13, 09:56 AM
For several days after the laser coagulation therapy — at least I know what it’s called — I did not even attempt to go anywhere. I was tired, probably from the anesthesia, and I was not supposed to be driving. It’s the kind of time when I’m glad I’m retired. There is very little that can’t wait, or at least I can send someone to run an errand for me.
I might have considered going out with U.D. on Saturday, but Son came for an early Mother’s Day. Ever since he brought me my flat screen monitor (he is my electronics expert), I have been wondering whether I shouldn’t replace my adequate old television set with a flat screen also. (More space, less electricity, etc.) From time to time I would notice what looked like a good buy; I would ask him, and he would say “Wait.” Actually, he really did find a better buy.
He not only brought me a new set, he brought a second one, a very early Father’s Day gift for Husband. Son, being who he is, spent the day installing for us. He also brought me a “toy,” a program that will allow me to watch television on my computer, as well as a new DVD player that will accept pictures from a thumb drive. (The pictures, of course, are of my granddaughter.) Guys love gadgets.
By Monday, I felt pretty good. So I decided to run a few errands for myself. I went to the bank, I picked up prescriptions, I bought greeting cards, I shopped for groceries. I think maybe I should have skipped something. By the time I had come upstairs with, first, two bags of frozen stuff, and then, two bags of meat and dairy, I was beginning to feel it. I put the rest of the stuff in the basement and put the car away. And I was wiped.
So I got myself something to eat, watched a little television (ahem), and decided it was time to take a nap. I woke up to heavy cramping in both legs, from my knees to my toes. (It was almost like being pregnant again!) Eventually I rubbed away the cramping, but I still didn’t feel great. I ate a minimal supper and went to sleep early.
Yesterday was a wash; after a difficult night, I was still tired and, lovely weather or not, I wasn’t going anywhere. I shall putter around the house today. At least I feel like writing a little.
Last week I saw an old TV segment about a couple of guys who had managed to scam millions in medical insurance fraud. They were finally caught and given harsh sentences. I heard the judge’s name, saw her face and heard her voice, and bells went off in my head.
Fifty years ago, when I was taking introduction to sociology, there was a cute little grad student named Ruthie, who monitored our breakout discussions. I also knew her from our folk dancing group. She loved to dance, but paramount in her goals was getting that master’s degree.
I don’t mean to put her down when I say cute; there is no better description for her. She tried very hard to look grown-up, but it didn’t always work. Even when she was being serious, she had the face of a child. She was shorter than I, even with heels, and she had beautiful long hair. She put it up when she was teaching, but for dancing she let it flow down her back. We would perform for some ladies group, and a grandmotherly type would pat her on the head and say, “Are you a freshman, dollink?” And Ruthie would innocently say, “Actually, I’m a grad student.”
Well, Ruthie was the judge in this fraud case. Except that her hair was shorter, she looked the same to me. I was glad to see that she was successful in her career, and naturally I looked her up on the ’net. I found that she had been a well respected judge and there was even an award named after her. She passed on several years ago. No wonder I never could find out what happened to her.
Speaking of what one can find on the net, I Googled my old friend Gloria. I wondered whether I would find anything at all; the woman is so afraid of intrusion that she has had an unlisted phone number for the last forty-plus years. Y’know what? I found her.
It seems that a teen in her building had a myspace page last year. He wrote about visiting her after school one day, evidently a very pleasant visit. (She mentioned to me that she had met a kid whom she called her adopted grandson.) This was actually a very nice entry, though he included her first and last names (I try not to do that). I printed it out, without editing it, and sent it to her (snail mail, of course). I captioned it “You’re Famous!” I wonder whether she’ll be amused or horrified.
