Pattern of Productivity

My wife was transported to her temporary home yesterday afternoon; she is in the rehab wing of a nursing and rehabilitation center about mid-way between town and the Village. I spoke to her briefly last night; she seemed comfortable in her new surroundings. It’s my understanding that I will be able to see her through a window in her room. I’ll verify that soon. And I’ll put Google Duo (and my wife’s willingness to use it) to the test. The first step for her, I think, will be to eat enough to begin to rebuild her strength; it’s impossible to regain strength without adequate fuel.

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After a rather long day yesterday, I was visited by an angel. A friend from church had offered to bring soup to me yesterday and, though I have been feeding myself reasonably well, I accepted the offer. Because I got home considerably later than I had expected, I called and suggested I would be happy to wait to get it until today. She insisted she would bring it by. And I am so very glad she did! It was among the best soups I have ever had. I had envisioned a thick soup  of ground beef and cannellini beans. Instead, it was a delightfully spicy mix of chicken (or was it turkey? I am poultry-knowledge-deficient), garbanzos, and green chiles. And she brought marvelous toasted bread as an accompaniment. I could not have asked for a more perfect meal yesterday. And, to think, I was prepared to be satisfied with a frozen dinner or soup from a can. That meal put me in a much better frame of mind. I hope I can get the recipe.

A week or so ago, another friend dropped by to deliver something I asked her to get for me when I learned she was planning to go to Trade Joe’s in Little Rock. In addition to the requested bag of elote-flavored chips, she came with a bag full of surprise goodies including a sampling of Spanish cheeses and an assortment of antipastos. And, a few days ago, I was the happy recipient of a mango and some persimmons, gifts from a couple of other friends (apparently, my love of food is obvious to those around me).

I feel incredibly fortunate to have found a community of good-hearted people. I’ve lived almost my entire life wondering whether people are, at their core, caring and altruistic or self-involved and selfish. Until I found this cluster of genuinely good people, I leaned toward thinking the latter. But, now, I think I may have been purposely distant, hence my skepticism.  I wonder how many other good people I may have been keeping at arm’s length all these years.

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A word popped into my head this morning and refuses to leave: constabulary. I cannot think of a recent occasion when the word was used, either in my personal experience or on television, so I have no idea about its source in my brain. I do not recall ever having used the word, either.

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I fell asleep during a phone conversation with a friend last night. I suspect my napping was helped along by a glass of wine, but I think the primary culprit for my nodding off was an overwhelming sense of being thoroughly tired. When I awoke before 4 yesterday, my energy was already at a low ebb. Focusing, as I was, on getting approval for my wife’s admission into another rehab facility had the effect of draining me even more. After awaking from my telephone nap last night, I decided to go to bed early again. I was in bed before 9. This morning, I got up about a quarter to 5 and felt generally rested, though in need of a neck and shoulder massage. I got more sleep last night than is typical for me, which might explain the aching need for a professional masseuse. But I think I slept at an odd angle, which also might explain the aches.

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Stacks of receipts, financial paperwork, medical paperwork, etc., etc. have been piling up ever since my wife came home from the old rehab center. The routine I had developed during her absence disappeared with the presence of home care people scurrying around the house. It’s now time for me to catch up on the work I let slip when she was at home and continued to let slide during her stay in the hospital, where I visited her every day. I will give myself a day to relax and be utterly indolent, then I will dive into the delayed paperwork.  Somewhere along the line I also will attempt to get the illusive haircut (I’ve been promising myself for many, many days that I would get a haircut, only to break that promise repeatedly). It reached the point that I attempted to trim the hair over my ears; I discovered (again) that is an unwise endeavor. Soon, though, all these delayed engagements will be tackled. I need to recapture the pattern of productivity.

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It’s 6:30. Time to think about breakfast. I wish I had saved some of last night’s soup. That would have made an ideal breakfast, just as it made an ideal dinner.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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3 Responses to Pattern of Productivity

  1. Robin, I am fortunate indeed to have found a small cadre of genuinely good people. Two window visits in now and I’m not sure how it’s going. I’ll make my third visit today and ruminate over it here. David, blogging is, for me, something of an addiction. It’s the only way I can think (although not necessarily clearly); I have to drain thoughts from my brains through my fingers. As for the haircut, it will wait. Eventually, I’ll either get it cut of my own accord or some well-meaning citizen will give me a trim so as to stop me from frightening children and old folks with the unruly rope dangling from my head. 😉

  2. David Legan says:

    Well, here is the difference between you and me…at least one of them. I would put off blogging AND the haircut. You only put one off. Cudos.

  3. robin andrea says:

    It is so wonderful that you have found such a supportive community there. I’m glad they have brought you such yummy food. I hope your window visit with Janine went well, and that this is truly the beginning of her recovery. Thank you for keeping us posted. Take care there and stay safe and healthy,

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