November 10, 2007
Today when I drove into town, the air and light bespoke the coming of winter though the temperature remains mild. Indecisive robins gather in flocks on the bare cottonwood branches and seem to chatter at length about whether to stay or go south. The days are coming when we begin to think wistfully about California or Florida and other points south with green trees, bright flowers, and short-sleeved garments on cheerful people.
Yesterday, Charles ventured north and east to Wisconsin to present workshops to an American Guild of Organists group this morning. Before he left, he played some of the materials he would be using. One that I enjoyed greatly was the last movement of George Akerley’s “A Sweet for Mother Goose” (courtesy AGOhq.org in which Charles not only plays but narrates as he negotiates the lively melodies behind the words. He returns this evening so that he can play tomorrow morning’s service at First Church where he is organist.
I am feeling better though the white blood cell count did drop after giving up on the Neupogen shots. One walks about thinking about every door knob, grocery cart handle, public faucet, coughing adult or runny-nosed pre-schooler because the health care givers have warned against all the above and more. As I was skulking through various venues casting eyes to the left and the right and clutching the Purell disinfectant cream, some of the stories of Howard Hughes’ compulsive acts vis-a-vis germs came to mind, immediately having a steadying effect. If nothing else, I hope to master a balancing act between calm and caution. So far I have resisted carrying a can of spray disinfectant to wave about and discharge at threatening persons or objects. This is just as well, as I might find myself placed in isolation for reasons other than my own concerns. Next Tuesday we return to the oncologist’s office to visit about the present realities and set forth the plan for the coming days. Meanwhile, I am happy to report that this day is a very good day.
