Had time not plunged forward in the wee hours of this morning, the moment I am experiencing right now would have been labeled 4:21 A.M. However, thanks to what seems to me a rather arbitrary shift, clocks added an hour. Or lost one. I cannot decide whether the adjustment amounts to a gain or a loss—or a simple change in perspective. I can decide, if I choose, to assign greater importance to various other changes in the world around me. And that’s enough of that.
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I spent quite a bit of time yesterday afternoon uploading to my M.D. Anderson patient portal copies of my health insurance cards, prescription plan cards, my Arkansas driver’s license, medical history information, etc. Those tasks were assigned to me in preparation for tomorrow morning’s phone and portal meeting with hospital registration staff. The hospital had already gathered an extraordinary amount of data about my medical past and present; surgeries, hospitalizations, immunizations, illnesses, etc., etc. By the time I meet with the oncologist on Friday, he will have access to vast stores of information about my body’s engagement with the planet on which I live. Understanding that reality, I wonder whether he will consider me a person seeking medical help or just the physical manifestation of a data dump. Not that it matters a great deal.
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My trip to Houston will give me the opportunity to visit at least briefly with my niece and her husband. When I return from Houston, my sister will arrive to spend several days with us. Just a few months ago, my brother and his wife came up from Mexico for a visit. And my Houston niece and her mother paid us a visit not too long ago. My late wife’s sister, who lives close by, makes a habit of spending time with us almost every week. I truly enjoy spending time with my family. In an ideal world, I would be able to accommodate all of them at the same time in an attempt to replicate moments in time when all of us were able to spend time together. But the real world is intent on inserting time and distance between families and friends. The extended family as a single unit is rarely tenable these days. Mobility and the unyielding desire for independence are quick to loosen family bonds.
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Yesterday afternoon, during a brief period of hunger, I fantasized about what would have been the ideal meal at that moment. Baba ganoush, hummus, an assortment of olives, twisted feta, pieces of warm pita, dill pickles, some crunchy raw vegetables, pickled beets, and a glass of dry red wine. I have no idea whether the components of my ideal meal pair well together; only that the combination sounded delightful to me. We had/have few of the components on hand, so I had to be satisfied with celery dipped in hummus, plus a few crisp, seed-filled crackers. And I was. This morning, I wanted fruit. So I had blueberries, strawberries, sliced apples, and segments of mandarins. Though I wanted papayas and watermelon and mangoes, too, I was happy to eat food that was actually available. Would that I always will be able to modify my wants to reflect what I have.
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The computer clock tells me it is almost 6:30. My hands and feet tell me they are uncomfortably cold. My mind suggests I return to bed, pull the covers over me, and try to sleep again.
