The possibility exists, of course, that the thought has always resided somewhere deep in my brain. But only this morning—for the first time, as far as I know—did the idea solidify. Just moments ago, as I saw down to record what was on my mind, did the concept whirl through my mind and quickly establish roots. As odd as it may seem to someone who lives outside my head, I am certain I have an emotional relationship with inanimate objects and experiences. Anyone who has read this blog with any degree of regularity knows that early mornings—particularly pre-dawn hours—are deeply satisfying to me. The same is true of my powerful appreciation of espresso during the time before the sun rises, when I am free of obligations to interact directly with people. Those two relationships—and that’s what they are—seem to feed me, emotionally. I do not need my morning solitude and I am not addicted to the caffeine in my one or two demi-tasse cups of espresso. But the three of us, together, have a close-knit community that quickly and easily shares complex thoughts and emotions that would require much more time and effort in traditional relationships. Obviously, I do not attribute emotional attachments to caffeine or to the serenity of early-mornings, but they provide emotional energy and sustenance to me in a way that exceeds the “typical” relationship. Sipping my little bit of espresso and embracing the privacy of an empty, early-morning world provide the kind of lonely companionship I would seek in more traditional relationships—if only that sort of fulfillment were there. I can tell I haven’t sufficiently explained myself. Maybe my vantage point cannot be explained or adequately described; it can only be experienced by those lucky enough or lonely enough to feel it.
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Today’s agenda includes my first radiation treatment; after today, only 26 to go. A week from today, I will have my umpteenth chemotherapy treatment and my 6th blast of radiation. The intervening days are marked on the calendar—or should be—for various other medical appointments. That is how I measure time these days. I am not alone in measuring time with medical appointments. My late wife’s sister will begin follow-up treatment for her recent lumpectomy soon. And another family member will undergo a mastectomy (or a double, depending on genetic issues) in a couple of weeks. Casting my eyes on recent calendars, other family members have dealt with (or are dealing with) hip replacements and bladder cancer and God know what else. Going back even further, heart issues and cancer have taken the lives of other family members. Eventually, all of us crumble or crack or decay or otherwise wear out. What a cheery way to celebrate the completion of the cycle of life.
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Last night’s bizarre and deeply disturbing dream took place in a massive, elaborate, architecturally significant high school building. It involved a reunion, but I not know most of the people; those few I knew were not high school classmates. At some point, I walked into the entry foyer of a women’s restroom by mistake. As I turned to leave, I said something (I thought it was innocuous) to a woman standing by a floor-to-ceiling mirror. She reacted with rage. I was surprised by her response and I responded by accusing her of being crazy. I left the restroom, walking against a massive flow of foot traffic. Everyone looked at me with disdain; many made vile comments about me, accusing me of sexual harassment. Soon thereafter, I was left the building and encountered my accuser, with a friend, in the parking lot. She screamed at me, saying she would have me arrested. I screamed back, telling her I had a video of our restroom encounter, proving her a liar, and would sue her and her employer. (How I got the video, I do not know, but it was legit.) Her boss, the chief executive of a big hotel chain, asked me not to turn the matter over to my lawyer. I insisted that I would. And that’s it. I was both livid at the accusation and terrified that the video would not be admitted in court. Next scene, I was walking down a busy downtown street, looking for a car rental agency. I found a Budget counter inside a doughnut shop. I completed the paperwork, but then had to walk several blocks to pick up a car, which was in an underground garage with cars from all sorts of rental agencies. I asked for a map, because I wanted to drive to my parents’ house, which I had never seen. I was told maps were available at the exit gate. The remaining pieces of the dream do not seem to have any relationship (except for the accusation against me and the maniacal woman making them) to the rest of the dream.
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With fools, there is no companionship. Rather than to live with men who are selfish, vain, quarrelsome, and obstinate, let a man walk alone.
~ Buddha ~
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Some food MUST be appealing to me. I just cannot seem to determine what that food is. I try to eat enough to keep me from collapsing into a replica of a slice of white bread, soaked in water, but I am not very successful. I have gained a few pounds, somehow, lately; up to 170 from 167.4. But I suspect it’s the increased consumption of water that’s responsible. I may be stronger today, though. I feel stronger sitting here. Whether I feel stronger standing will be the real test, though.
