Pot Pourris

• Back pain, day four. I hate it. I’ve had bouts of lower back pain all my life; some episodes were the worst pain I can remember. Going for a longish walk yesterday was a mistake. It wants rest; I feel better in the mornings.
• I believe my days of long meandering walks that have always meant so much to me are over. My back just can’t take it. My walks won’t end; they will take a different form. Yesterday, for the first time, I took a cushion for regular sit-downs; I didn’t use it but I should have. Had I, I think I’d be feeling even better today and last evening would have been a lot more comfortable.
• In compensation, my nose made yesterday’s walk particularly pleasant. I passed a restaurant emitting a strong bacon and eggs smell and I was instantly reliving an brisk late August morning with Steve in a diner whilst we were camping in southeastern BC. It was a day when I realized from the brisk morning air that summer was ending. Later in the day, the fragrances of passing women wearing perfume (especially Shalimar) and wood smoke were highly evocative reminders of pleasant times past.
• My speech seems hugely improved. I’ve been spending most of my time alone and at home and that always seems to lead to improved speech. This morning, I am meeting a bunch of theatre colleagues for brunch and tomorrow I have two medical appointments and I’m spending the evening with Dwight so I’ll be interesting to see how I do.
• Joy Coghill, the dynamo behind PAL Vancouver and the woman who got me involved, passed away yesterday. It’s cast a pall on my day; she was someone I really liked and admired and you should have seen this woman. She was a stunner. She looked fabulous right up until the end. She was a class act; she commissioned a play of George Ryga called The Ecstasy of Rita Joe. As far as I know, it was the first portrayal of indigenous culture on a Canadian public stage.
• Victoria sank for me last night. The scene wherein Victoria rides out of court to declare her love to Lord Melbourne struck me as too contrived. I liked the language but having her leave court in an unmarked carriage—and seemingly impatiently—struck me as contrived as did the link between her household staff and the Chartists. I’m over history as melodrama. Downton did me in.
• Local legend David Suzuki hosted a CBC program on trauma and PTSD. If focused on different people dealing with the disease: a couple who were in a horrific and famous car pileup on the 401, an ex soldier and a sexual assault victim who has C-PTSD like me. It was hard to watch but I taped it and I will likely watch it again because it’s hugely therapeutic at the same time. Sometimes TV can be profoundly effective.