A funny thing happened on the way to Santa Fe Imaging Center this morning. Sounds like a line from an old movie, or rather a portion of a title of an old movie. Anyway, I awakened at the crack of dawn (I call it a much more descriptive name gleaned from watching the movie "Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter Is Dead." One of the greats!) so I could get to Santa Fe by 8:20 am. As I trailed into the city proper half asleep yet cognizant of the ridiculous back up of traffic, my senses were enlivened by the aroma of a distinctly different scent, howbeit recognizable. Ah, yes, dead skunk in the middle of the road. Now that's a definite wake up call. Good Morning, Santa Fe!
My children always hated my wake up calls. I used to sing to them each morning which I felt was much more agreeable than my mama's "Rise and shine!" I never wanted to rise, and I did not know what it meant to shine. As a child I doubt it ever entered my mind, the idea of "shining", but I know of at least one person who thought I shined in the 7th grade! The song I sang to my children was from Red Red Robin. It goes...
"Wake up, wake up you sleepy heads. Get up, get up, the sun is shining red. Live, love, laugh and be happy!!"
Isn't that a delightful way to get awakened each day for school? And you thought your life was interesting!
So back to my morning in Santa Fe.... I finally arrived at the designated location at my appointed hour. Waiting for my turn has never been my forte. But it can be an interesting time, watching people come and go. Generally diagnostic screenings make people a little nervous, especially men. They don't hold up as well as we women tend to do. So there was a bit of anxiety hanging in the atmosphere, along with upset tummies, and another "Good Morning to you!".
As I think back over the past few weeks that brought me to this place in time, I go back over the questions I am asked in response to my functional test prior to starting physical therapy. Questions like "Does it hurt to reach up to get something out of the cabinet?" So I say,"Well I don't have to reach up, everything is pretty much down low, as I live alone, so I make it easy on myself." Next question, "Do you have a hard time carrying your laundry basket?" Another caustic quickie, "Well, it's only me, so I don't have that much laundry to do at one time, so I really don't have to use a basket." Ummmm....! "Do you need help getting dressed in the morning?" By this time I am thinking he's not hearing me, so I quip, "Well gee, if I did need help, I'd be out of luck, as I live alone, and my teddy bear isn't much help." So more questions and quips, and caustic remarks, until I want to scream, "What do you not understand....I LIVE ALONE! What part of "LIVE ALONE" do you not understand?!" Poor guy, if looks could kill...!
What a concept...living alone. I have this great friend who...you guessed it!...lives alone. We were giggling over my cynical comments regarding my inquisition, and she shared a time in her life. She fell, and she was unable to get up on her feet or knees, so she literally had to crawl over to her neighbor's house for help. She knocked on the bottom of the door, the person opened it all the while looking around for someone, never glancing down, until my friend says, "Hey, I'm down here!" True story. I had to chuckle as this particular friend is not one to grovel in the dust for anyone. Plus to make matters worse she'd never met the neighbor. Pride does indeed go before a fall, or perhaps after a fall. We've decided after hashing over our adventure tales that we are dyed in the wool survivors. We can overcome anything. Or at least laugh it away.
Laughter is indeed good medicine. Much more I could share, but for today, this is it! Time to dream up new adventures and new ways to get my point home to those who have no clue.
'Night guys!
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