I see my internist every three months, and today was the day. It was a good check-up. All the vitals were excellent, and he's adjusting my meds accordingly. He sympathized with my having another month added to my physical therapy since he himself had knee surgery two weeks ago.
It was a good week in Big Rapids, despite being bitterly cold. The mouse has not returned, and I've been sleeping reasonably well. Classes have been good, though the numbers in my Justice in Literature class seem to be shrinking. That's fine with me.
My husband accompanied me to the physical therapy session and my doctor's visit today. Then we walked around the mall, something we almost never do, and then had lunch together. Afterwards, we napped through the noon news as we sat together on our sofa. I do love Fridays when we're together.
The sun is shining, and eventually the temperatures will get above freezing. All is well. My son's court case was postponed two months to a year due to some papers not being filed. I don't think the case will ever be adjudicated. He had a successful gig the other night and will get more lined up, I hope. I'd prefer he not pursue the disability issue, but he will be who he is.
For some reason, I've dreamed nightly about my father and about helping him fix up some old house. He's always reasonably young and healthy in my dreams, powerful like I remember him being. It's a cliche to say that my daddy is stronger than your daddy, but I could probably have that said honestly to everyone I knew. My father was a physically powerful man in his prime. He was always working on something around the house. I just wish I knew why I kept having dreams of helping him fix these rundown filthy crowded shanties. Maybe it's time for another donation to Habitat for Humanity to ease my guilt?
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