I’ve been feeling threatened by my asthma. Since I stopped using one of my inhalers, I’ve been coughing a lot, so I wrote to Dr. Dorscheid to ask him if I should go back on Spiriva. I’ve been ‘drowning’ in mucus. Yesterday morning I got a lovely note from Dr. D. saying to resume taking Spiriva and doubling my normal dose until the coughing stops.
He signed his note, ‘Del,’ and it moved me to get a note bearing his first name. He’s a terrific man. I truly adore him because he is so approachable, so easy to talk to, so warm and caring. He makes me feel safe and that means a lot since my asthma has been increasingly challenging to endure. Tezspire has made a huge difference, but lately I’ve been feeling very vulnerable because of the coughing.
When I got up yesterday morning, there was a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, so the first order of business was to get all the dishes cleaned, dried and put away. It was tempting to also light the fire because it was so cool, wet, and dark outside after a night of rain, but I decided not to because the house was warm from last evening’s fire. God bless the insulating properties of log walls!
Dwight appeared at 7:30, and he was up for a fire and so I lit a small one and it was lovely to have a warm and cosy house, but once the fire was going, the sun came out and the sky cleared. By 8:30 it was overcast again and so it seemed like the day would be a day of very mixed weather. We decided to go for breakfast as planned, but we weren’t as keen on going to the market on so dull a day. He wants to catch the 11:15 ferry.
Once he’d showered and loaded up on coffee, we took Her Highness to Rollo Park to walk and to do her business so that we could leave her home while we went to breakfast and then, briefly, to the market. It was great at the market. The sun was out, it wasn’t crowded with tourists, and I was with my bro. When he departed to catch the ferry, I was surprised to fine myself crying, but on the way home, they played one of my favourite pieces of music: Mahler’s adagietto from symphony number five.
When I got home, I fed the pets lunch, and then I got to watering my garden beds and then Ali and Pete’s beds as well. It was the last time I had to water at P&A’s house, so today, My Day, I shall have all day to do yard work, soak and read—plus, fish tacos. All my watering was finished at 13:30, after which I had a bit of a break schmoozing with Annie (11 months) and her grandma, Ursula, from next door, and then I came in for a snack and a rest before going back outside to do some yard work.
Sheba is in bad shape. I reckon we’ve a major issue to deal with. Her left legs are misaligned, and I reckon it’s her back hips. Now that all my guests have come and gone, I can focus on getting her to the vet in Nanaimo. Late in the afternoon, I went into the bedroom to check on her, and she got up as soon as I entered the room and come towards me, and we did what we always do. She shoves her head under my arm and offers me her back to rub and gently scratch.
I immediately lost it. Tears fell, but I was silent. I fear she is aging. I’m frightened that there’ll be no more long walks. I desperately afraid of losing her. It’s at times like this when I realize how attached I am.
It was beautiful last night. Sunlight was still hitting my garden beds when I took my walkabout. The yard is a bit in disarray. The Japanese Maple that appeared to be dying was the right size and height for its location. Now, my massive Fuchsia that has the microscopically small blossoms, has taken its place. I’m not happy, so I’m going to use the pot the Fuchsia was in to pot something tall that I’ll put on the deck.
My Paulownia is covered in buds. I’m going to have a magnificent display of blue flowers next year. That excites me. And my Plum and Apple crop will be bigger. My Raspberry crop will me small because I dug out all the potatoes. They had taken over and killed several Raspberry canes. I’m due for a large Blueberry crop in all probability. It usually happens every second year, and this year was a weak year.
I wish I was the person I used to be. The pre-breakdown me would have tireless energy for creative projects. I came out of the most infernal of years a decade ago, my recovery has not rekindled my creative energy batteries. Plus, aging is probably another factor. If I don’t take on too much, I enjoy doing yard work, old me would work dusk till dawn. Sigh.
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I met Dwight when I was hired to stage manage a show in which he was the lead actor. We met at 9:00 on the first day of rehearsals, and we ate lunch together that day during our break. We rehearsed for three and a half weeks, did a half-week of previews, opened and ran for a month. I was with Dwight eight hours a day, six days a week for almost two months.
Dwight had an exit a few minutes before the ending of the play. He’s come off-stage and run to his dressing room, change, and come to my station to await his entry for his curtain bow at the end of the play. The play ended with Dwight’s characters friends on the stage sitting in silence and then moving around a bit without speaking and then slowly the lights would fade.
During that last sub-scene at the end if the show that was in silence, music faded in and it was What’s Love Got To Do With It? I’d be at my station, and Dwight would be standing silently with waiting for me to send him on stage. We couldn’t speak, of course, so we’d dance and lip-synch to the music together until he went on. That’s how our friendship blossomed.
A few years later, Dwight moved into the house I shared with Steve. He stayed five years and our friendship grew to a point where it can sometimes be painful because my bond is so strong. Thanks to my therapy, I understand why I became so attached to him.
Steve is my other brother of a different mother. We were together fourteen years and we are still very, very close friends. We talk once a week at least, and often more times than that. He’s my gay brother, and he’s an intense experience. He becomes an intolerable experience if he drinks. And if we’re with friends, he performs and often embarrasses me. However, I’m absolutely devoted to him.
They are the greatest gifts of my life, Dwight and Steve. They made me feel wanted. Pete, my neighbour, is inching into my heart now. He is incredibly generous with his time and tools helping me manage here, and he’s extremely pleasant to be with. And when, one day when he was leaving after visiting me here, he said, as he closed the gate, “Don’t be a stranger.”
That’s all it took. I am helpless when confronted with such kindness. He was making me feel wanted that has a huge emotional impact on me. Again, Dr. S. has helped me understand why.
Dwight and I talked about our friendship a bit because he arrived and during dinner he got onto his family and upbringing. He got no love either. He had three brothers to love, but the disconnect he feels with his parents haunts him. I believe, because of a study I read about in psych, it’s this background and parental disconnect that subconsciously drew us together and made our friendship so valuable to each of us.
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Last night’s walkabout was good for my soul. I missed Dwight, and I have anxieties about Sheba, but the walkabout filled my mind with joy and thanks for living in my little paradise. These friendships, this garden, my pets and my harvest make living in this place heavenly.
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I slept in until almost 6:00! That’s unusual, but welcome! Sheba ate and then wanted out and when I let her out, she was walking slightly better than she has for the past few days. I’ll know more when we go to Rollo Park later. She’ll also be coming with me to Silva Bay for fish tacos.
I’m going to have a great day today!! It’s cool this morning, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky. I’ll likely not need to water today, so I’ll be doing some yard work and reading.
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