She would be 79 tomorrow…

t wasn’t a dark and stormy night. It was calm, with stars. I haven’t quite known how to begin but I wanted to write about her death. It was a month ago today. I think appropriate for Valentine’s Day. Mom always called it Valenshearts Day.

Mom’s brain– a brain that minored in Russian literature– could no longer follow the plot of a Hallmark holiday movie. Despite all of her attempts she is unable to read anything and retain it. Her comment is that a text or plot is “ dumb or stupid” simply because she cannot follow. We sat in her bedroom that night, Johannes playing the guitar, Lolly, Dad and I talking with her.

Nothing in medicine follows its plotline….

A few months ago I received a text from my dad, “you need to help me to find Daisy”.

Sleeping in a recliner next to a woman who has a vac dressing, an ileostomy and is encouraged to drink a lot to replace the volume being lost as a result of the ileostomy and therefore has to frequently use the bathroom, is not easy. And, It hasn’t looked like sleep any of the times that I have attempted it.

Time is a bug in life. Not enough. Too much. Moments that won’t end and days that are too short. Races where 0.01 seconds made the difference. How to manage it, honor it, rest in it, appreciate it, make it. A lifetime is forever until all of a sudden that known end is visible. Living is what our species does with time, that active being on the clock. Honoring that gift of life, holding space in time.

In infectious diseases there are seasons. Traditional flu season, the many seasons of Covid, Lyme season, cellulitis season. Specific viruses and bacterial infections show up in summer, specific pathogens to worry about with floods, excess pools of rainwater. Parasites from food or travel. Mosquitoes. And then sprinkled into every day of every week are things that are seasonless– pneumonia, heart valve infections, gall bladder infections, surgical site complications and urinary tract infections.

Photos taken A Phipps Conservatory #desertroom

Euphoria has a sound; it can have a smile. It isn’t karma for work. It isn’t a prize for the effort. It is a gift. A bonus. It is the smile in this photo– a record from 1983 being broken at a swim championship…

Leeches are bugs. We tend to see bugs in our life as unwanted... But most life seems to have a purpose.