Days Like This.............

I've noticed that things seem to happen in streaks, at least for me. After I was diagnosed with a carpal tunnel problem, it took me some time to get back to staging Events. Late last month, I managed to pull off two but, since then, I haven't found an opportunity. What has happened is a string of what I can only say are days that have had something....strange....happen.
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This past Saturday morning, I went to a funeral. I knew the woman slightly - she was someone my daughter knew from a volunteer group that they both belonged to - but I knew she'd been fighting some illness for a long time and I'd admired how she'd handled it.

It was moving, as funerals usually are, but what stood out was the eulogy. There were pews full of family and friends, but the guy who gave the eulogy admitted that he didn't really know her - that he was really a friend of her brother. He seemed to feel that he was competent to perform this function because he'd spoken to people at the wake about the deceased and recorded their comments. He seemed proud to be able to read them back to us from an electronic notebook (loosing his place several times). I don't know. It just seemed strange to me. If people have things to say about me when I go - good or bad - let them get up there and say them. I think I'd appreciate the personal touch.
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Sunday, after mass and breakfast, I drove around the back streets in Avenel and Colonia. I was killing time. There's a thrift shop in South Plainfield that was having a sale but they weren't going to be open until 11. Turning down one of the side streets, I could see a guy up ahead changing a tire.

There was no one else around, so I pulled to the curb. Watching him, I removed the splint and lowered my window. He never turned around, just concentrated on the tire. I started up again, slowly and drove past.

Point, press, Flash.

I moved on and got to the thrift store just before they opened. I got a couple of shirts and some decorative stuff for the apartment for about $14. One thing was really strange.

I'm not sure what it is, but the label on the foot says it's a Ganz. It's probably supposed to hold something but, for now, it'll be a bookend.

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Monday was a holiday so the libraries were closed. I did some food shopping but nothing else presented itself so I got home early. That afternoon, I got a call from my cardiologist's office. My 4th anniversary is coming up and they want me to have a test called a Left Heart Cathorization, which I've been through before. However, the new guy there doesn't do this procedure so I'd have to pick another cardiologist. Seemed strange to me.

They had a few names they could recomend and we agreed on the cardiologist who was the one on duty at JFK Medical Center in July of 2008 who first diagnosed my problem. This made the situation even stranger.
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On Tuesday, I was out earlier then usual. I had an appointment for blood work and I was using a local lab rather then the clinic lab at Robert Wood Johnson where I go for my heart work. This test was to check my PSA level. It was pretty high last month but the doctor and I agreed to do another check before going the biopsy route.

From there, I drove to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast then decided to check out the Metuchen Library. Some of the back streets in that area end at cross streets. At one of these, I noticed a guy waiting for a bus.

I turned right. There was a professional building just ahead - lawyers, I think - and I pulled into their lot, drove around the back, took off the splint and got ready. When I pulled back out, I turned left. The only other person around was the guy at the bus stop. I approached slowly. He stood there, looking down the block past me.

Point, press, Flash.

I continued on to Metuchen.

On my way there, I got another call from my cardiologist's. There's a couple of other tests that they'd like to have me take (an echocardiogram and a chest x-ray). We agreed to do them on Tuesday, November 6th. Why they didn't bring this up on Monday when we discussed the other test yesterday is beyond me. Strange.
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It was raining this morning and chilly, so I took my time leaving. The day brightened up as it went on, and I stopped at some of the Woodbridge libraries. I'm reading this book that I find interesting and I thought I'd check to see if I could find something else by the author. No such luck. I drove home.

As I parked on my side street I looked across at my living room windows. It's a habit I've gotten into over the years. I look to see if my cat is there. She wasn't, but I noticed that the windows were open slightly.

I knew I hadn't left them that way. It had been too cold last night, and damp this morning.

Someone had been in there...Or still was.

I went into the building, using my key on the vestibule door, and tested the door knob to my apartment. The door was locked. I used my key, took a couple of deep breaths, and went in. The door opens into a hallway that leads to the living room (with the kitchen halfway down and to the left). I went down the hall.

There was Gordon sitting on the love seat in front of the windows.

"I was going to wave from the window, but I didn't want to attract any one else." He didn't get up.
"You scared the crap out of me...........what are you doing here?"

I sat down in my chair, trying to calm down.

"I'm sorry, Denny." He pushed himself forward a little, but still didn't rise. "I've gotten some strange readings on your whereabouts lately, and - frankly - I was worried."
"What?....Strange readings?....What are you talking about?"
"You know that I follow you in the same way that the DHS does, right? Well, I've placed you lately in some locations that I didn't recognize. I checked them out and found them to be medical facilities. You can, I trust, excuse me if I was concerned."

I hadn't thought about that.

"OK. Look. I had a problem with my wrist so I went to my primary. From there, it kinda escalated." I filled him in on what had been happening. He sat there listening, then nodded.

"I seem to have jumped to some unfounded conclusions." He grinned, but there was something underneath it. He moved forward again. "I'm glad to see that you're doing well, Denny."
"How are you doing, Gordon?" I had to ask.
He grinned again, and finally stood up. He shook his head.
"What's the expression?.......Don't let the bastards get you down?.....I'm trying, Denny, I'm trying."
"Look..I don't mean to be crass but you have to need the same meds that I do....you have to know that they're watching those. Are you getting them? ...."

He looked at me but didn't answer. He looked tired. He looked - literally - blue.
"I have to be going now." He turned towards the door. "Look out for yourself, Denny."
"Gordon........is there anything I can get you..anything I can do?"
"Thank you. Not for now. But you may be recieving a package within the next couple of weeks. I hope that you make the right decision with the contents."

He closed the door behind him.

I closed the windows, and stared out them for a long time. It crossed my mind that yesterday would have been John Lennon's 72nd birthday. And I realized that his last song fit this situation.

"Nobody told me there'd be days like this."