We’re having coffee. Grateful, and it’s coffee, black, but/and takes me back — to that day about 1971 when I reported in as CDO at a Naval installation Sunday morning to Monday morning, went to the giant urn for coffee and found it was the last gallon or so of what the steward had made for the admiral on Friday morning. Nevertheless and notwithstanding, grateful then and grateful now. For life & a cuppa.
Linda says she did not sleep, I totally zonked out from 11:50 pm to 0455 hours (more Navy talk). She seems to have had a mild TIA, symptoms lasted about half an hour last evening from just as we were leaving for church about 5:05 until after we checked in at the ER fifteen minutes later, quickly clearing and going asymptomatic. Many tests last evening, blood draw about 2:30 am that I slept through, and now apparently a full morning of tests ahead. Sudden, unexpected, overrides plans, takes charge of life, instills the fear of God, …
Being present again so soon in the sudden changingness rubs raw the searing grief about Ray that had formed a scab.
Some pictures are worth a thousand words, some are not, and the above pic is free, but is as much of Linda as she will tolerate posted on FB this morning.
One thing I remembered, refreshed again, is that I do like hospital meatloaf. Good here six years ago, delicious at Cleveland Clinic five and a half years ago, tasty again for supper last night when we finally got around to supper about ten-thirty and quarter to eleven. Covered in dark brown gravy. Meatloaf and collards, and a cornbread muffin.