September 19, 2007
This is the sixteenth day of feeling fine and we have been entertaining friends, going to concerts and enjoying life. Alphie has behaved nicely throughout though he did decide to drag me into the veterinarian’s office when I took him there for his annual shots. I was reminded that this is one huge and powerful dog; I flew through the front door at the end of the leash without much dignity – once inside, Alphie remembered that this was not really his favorite destination, and turned around with the intent of returning from whence he came, but we quickly closed the door of the examining room where, defeated, he lay down and sighed hugely, resigned to his fate and looking at the vet with those very sorrowful eyes. He was far more sedate as we left, but I realized that I failed the truly-in-control owner’s test in spite of thinking calm thoughts which the dog supposedly can read. Perhaps the term “Wretched brute” doesn’t work even if it is thought in gentle, measured tones.
Autumn advances with leaves beginning to turn yellow on some of the trees. The crickets are still sounding forth though the cooler mornings mean that their cadences are a bit slower than in the late afternoons. Charles announced that the annual visit of a vole in his organ teaching room at the music building occurred and that, just like last year, the student who was receiving the lesson was unnerved by the sight. Charles grabbed the wastepaper basket and upended it over the creature and announced that they were now safe, and he would get someone from Buildings and Grounds to remove the interloper after the lesson. The maintenance people were duly contacted and yes, they would come over and take care of it, however, before they arrived, and before Charles got a note posted, “Mouse under here”, the janitor came through, looked at the upended wastepaper basket and took steps to correct the matter, likely thinking thoughts about the habits of musicians in general and students in particular. More dismay as the vole made a successful dash into the pipe work of the organ. Charles has requested catch and release traps because the suggested sticky paper route is a distasteful way to deal with the problem.
My white blood cells continue a downward count, and now at 1.8, they have been termed “Low Critical”. It’s back to thinking about hand washing and other people sneezing, etc. I remember when this happened at the beginning, we were quite undone – now, it is a recurring part of the pattern. On October 2nd a bone marrow aspiration will return me to the cancer arena, but for now, I will enjoy these lovely days as the gifts of time and life that they are for me.