Sunday in CinCity. The Keepin' It Real Edition.
I think the best I can strive for is to take it all as it comes--hopefully, with some grace and humor, and a recognition that some things just suck. If I have to leave school, it sucks, but also does having a stroke and losing half the functioning of your brain. And it sucks that my mother who has fought and refused to take or do anything that would be helpful in preventing a stroke now has devastating consequences that substantially impact our family. And by family, I really mean Hubby and me.
The truth is she could still have had a stroke and if it wasn't this it would most likely be something else. That's life. At least that's what they say.
The last shift I worked this past Friday evening involved admitting a 47 year old who had a seizure and fell, probably straight forward and down, breaking his neck at C1-C2. That's the one you'd hope for in a hanging back in the day when hangings were the punishment of choice. Quick and brain-dead. His 48th birthday would have been Saturday. Two kids...
I know that our plans for our days are not set in stone.
What I want is to make space in my life, as it presents itself right now, and to have flexibility and the ability to be fully involved in what's going on. School demands a lot of attention to be given to it and deadlines and arbitrary timelines in which real life demands become an annoyance. Couldn't this illness, Dr's appointment, newest complaint, this theater date, this trip to the lake just wait until the end of the quarter, till my paper's finished, till I take this exam? If we're picking up more here on the home front I don't want to be constantly frantic about time and writing papers in my head while I'm grocery shopping with my mother or walking the dog with one or the other of my grrrrlies and I don't want the lion's share of these changes to fall to my husband. It could be done. But, I don't believe the benefits outweigh the known downside. I don't want to be that frustrated, stress-sandwiched gal. I want to be Doris Day in Please Don't Eat the Daisies. Down to her up-do and flat shoes and pedal pushers.
In looking for a summer photo of CinCity I stumbled across this thread on a website,
and more. They're larger and the details more striking on the original site. Quite an impressive eye.
And, because you can't allude to him and not show him , and you know this song is now rolling around inside your head, here's the man himself. May I present Mr. Frank Sinatra...
Now I'm off to do a little housework while everyone else is otherwise occupied.