Let me recount the last months in snippets and broads strokes, photographs and minimal words because it’s all just a bit too overwhelming to try to remember just where and what the last 4 months (give or take) have consisted of. And it you are one of the 3 people reading this, I will count myself blessed that someone had enough faith in me to check back here every once and while because, perhaps, just perhaps, I’d make it across that huge blue ocean and I’d finally arrive. For you, thank you. Thanks for your faith in me.
I have arrived.
I spent the lion’s share of November/December being sick. Very sick. When I think of those 4-5 weeks, I remember coughing. A LOT. And not breathing very much. And I remember taking lots of medicine, none of which had much effect. I ate garlic, drank juice and tea, and some more tea, and some more tea. Some of that time I worked, some of it, I didn’t. I did, however, get to see my own personal physician in action. Sam was amazing. But I must say I challenged him, because although he knew exactly what to do and what things to prescribe, nothing worked on me. And I could tell that really stressed him out. He listened to my lungs every day, took my blood pressure…it was really sweet to see him in doctor mode. I don’t ever get to see that. I only ever see him in student mode – studying, reading, studying more – but seeing him working and actually putting things into practice, that was really special. Seeing his care for me when I was sick and the way he did so much around the house during that time…I know when he said, “in sickness” he meant it.
By the time I finally recovered – about a week before Christmas – I had had enough of feeling (and looking) liked death warmed over, so I enlisted the help of Nina, who I work with, and who has become a dear friend, to help me make a trip to the salon for a new hairstyle. Even simple things like getting your hair cut can feel like Everest when there’s a language barrier. So having Nina there to translate and to panic with, when the lady started cutting a bit too much off the bangs was priceless. We raised our eyebrows together when the stylist started giving me poofy bangs that were quite shorter than I had explained and Nina sprang into action with all urgency when the afore-mentioned hairdresser took the razor comb and aimed them at my bangs again, “NYET!” In my mind that part is in slow motion and the sound echoes, and everyone in the shop turns and looks with their mouths open. But of course, that’s just me being dramatic. I wonder who’ll play me in the movie…
just an FYI: this pic is after the bangs had grown!
