As published in the White River Current - Thursday November 6, 2014
It
started out just like any ordinary fall day.
My internal alarm clock had awakened me at about six fifteen, a little
earlier that I usually arise. I rolled
over and lay on my back for a few seconds, wide awake now. I slowly swung my legs over the edge of the
bed and gingerly stood up. Thank
goodness! No dizziness. I had been having a mild case of vertigo for
the last few days, but maybe it is over.
I remember filling hundreds of prescriptions for Meclizine, the drug of
choice (at the time) for this sometimes debilitating ailment, which, on rare
occasions, may result in a stay in the hospital. I have an episode of this aggravating malady
once or twice a year. I believe my
ailment is caused by a problem in my middle ear, a common occurrence with we
members of the mature population (OK, old folks). Anyway I was up, not staggering, and made my
way to the kitchen to make coffee. It
was still dark, but there was a small sliver of light on the eastern horizon. I doctored up my first cup of the hot liquid
and headed for my chair where I kicked back and applied an eye drop in each eye
then kept my eyes closed for several seconds as directed. I guess I must have dozed off for a few
minutes because when I opened my eyes and looked out the window, the entire
landscape had a pinkish glow. I stepped
outside onto the back porch and observed one of the most amazing sunrises that
I have ever witnessed. The entire
eastern sky was ablaze with a deep pink hue.
I wondered if Bernice saw this.
She enjoys the sunrises and even called me early one morning to inquire
if I was witnessing a beauty (I was). Anyway, after a Cheerios breakfast (good for
your heart, you know), a second cup of coffee, the other eye drop application
and checking Anita’s I-pad for any new pictures of Ruby (she’s our great-granddaughter,
you know), I checked my watch and
decided that I had time to go to the post office and grocery store before Gene
came by for coffee. I met Billy Gene
coming out of the post office. When I
inquired how he was doing, he said (Mah-va-lus, just mavalus). When I ask this question to others, I get
replies like “about as well as common” or “feeling fit as a fiddle” or some
other old saying. I drove over to the
grocery store and was parking when Larry pulled up beside me. He wanted to show me the walking canes he
bought at the Salvation Army store.
Maybe he collects them, I don’t know.
Larry’s a friendly guy who wanted to talk and inform me about his son
who had come in second at the Special Olympics bowling tournament at Harrison
and was heading for the state tourney in Little Rock. We visited a few minutes, then I had to hurry
with my grocery purchase and get home where I saw Gene had already arrived. Gene, who will be 90 next January (but he
certainly doesn’t look it), and I have coffee most weekday mornings. He and Reva moved here from Iowa in 1989 and
quickly became close friends with Anita and I.
For over seven years, Reva has been a resident of the local nursing home
where Gene goes by twice daily to assist with feeding her noon and evening
meals. Today I tell Gene about the
recipe for Split-Pea Soup that I am going to try, emphasizing my trouble trying
to split the canned green peas. After
much thought, he suggests using frozen peas.
I am elated and decide the pill splitter from the pharmacy will be the
perfect tool to complete the task. I
rush Gene off to the nursing home and Anita and I leave to meet Kay and Jack
for lunch. They live in Mountain Home
where Jack has retired from his medical practice. Kay is my cousin. We catch up on all the kids and grandkids
activities, agree we should do this more often and go our separate ways. Running late, I don’t make it home in time to
take Helen to her hairdresser appointment because Martha came to get her. I’ll apologize when I see her. There is a phone message from Dr. Campbell
requiring a trip to the church. Anita is
dozing when I return so I read a chapter in my book. After waking up from what was supposed to
have been a short nap, I make my way to the kitchen and warm up some leftovers
for supper. Afterwards, after watching a
recorded TV show and checking the I-Pad, we are both yawning. Another drop in each eye and I turn off the
bedroom light. All days in Calico Rock
are good (some are better than others).
No comments:
Post a Comment