zeptember

This afternoon on the way home from work, I witnessed an elderly man take a fall.

I was stopped at the intersection and witnessed his fall. I hesitated, wondering if I should get involved, since I saw two young teenaged boys right there with him. Then I thought the better of it - perhaps the boys would not know what to do. What if the man was seriously injured?
I pulled over and got out of my car, while the two young teenage boys flagged the bus the man apparently wanted to get on.

The elderly man was shakey and refusing medical treatment as I walked up. The bus driver explained in a heavy accent of some sort that he cannot take people on his bus who are urinating in public or otherwise appear intoxicated. Another woman had walked up to the scene at the same time I did, and we were all trying to get the story from the old man and the bus driver.

Apparently, the elderly man had waited and waited for the bus, which was late. He had to urinate, and he couldn’t hold it any longer, so he began urinating in the bushes when the bus showed up. He ran for the bus, zipper still down, with his shopping cart and his cane in his arms. This is what I saw as I pulled up to the intersection, and the two young teenage boys flagged the bus, which stopped. The elderly man was in a tizzy - all upset at being caught with his pants down, mad that the bus was late, mad at himself for not being able to hold his water…and he spun like a top away from one of the teens, who was trying to calm him, and BAM he fell down hard on his buttocks.

The teens immediately ran to him and helped him up, while a group of three or four disaffected teenaged girls walked by nervously and did not help.

I pulled over and ran to him, as did another woman, and that’s when the bus driver explained in a heavy accent of some sort that he cannot take people on his bus who are urinating in public or otherwise appear intoxicated. The bus driver refused to call his bus company to file an accident report.

I asked the woman if she saw the guy fall - she said no, she saw him laying on the ground and stopped. She and I thanked the shaken up teenagers and I declared I would walk the elderly man home, since he said he only lives two blocks away. I asked him about his butt and his hip - he said he’s fine.

We began walking. The gentleman told me how upset with himself he was for not being able to wait to use a proper bathroom. He felt his entire day was ruined. He seemed ready to cry. He clutched his fists and grated what teeth he has left. I told him in as gentle a tone as possible that it doesn’t have to play out like that - I can take him back home and he can start over again - he can catch another bus later - the stores are open til 9pm.
While walking, I realised my car was parked in a “no parking” zone, so I told the man to stay put, ran to my car, swung around, and hopped back out. He didn’t move from his spot, but he did finally zip up his trousers.

At this point, I offered to drive him home. He exclaimed he has no food and was looking forward to having dinner before grocery shopping. I asked him about his butt and his hip again. He said he’d be fine. I noticed old blood on his shirt, and was that an old bloody wash cloth or a rag stuffed into his waistband? He had thick spit in the corners of his mouth - likely constantly dehydrated. The man looked to me like he is in his late 70’s.

I told the old man I’d take him to South Shore Cafe, and his eyes lit up - he was so happy I knew of the place cuz that’s just where he wanted dinner. I drove him there. We shared where we live about town - we live about a mile apart. The island we live on isn’t so huge, so we’re all neighbors, generally speaking.

As we approached the restaurant, the elderly man told me to let him off a door away from the restaurant so he could test drive his balance.

The old man needed as much help as my father-in-law in getting out of my car, what with his cane and weak legs. The man walked on his own to the restaurant door, past the door, and then turned on his heel to come back ’round…and almost fell again.
I leapt forward to run to catch him, but he caught himself. Good thing because I was too far away to have reached him, had he fallen again.
I approached him calmly, and told him he’ll be eating dinner first, then going grocery shopping if he feels up to it. I told him i saw him spin on his heel.
“oh you saw that, did you?” he quipped with a gleam in his eye.

I wished the gentleman a happy new year. He thanked me profusely, and I waited for him to go into the restaurant before I closed the door behind him.

I keep thinking I should go look for the duplex he says he lives in - see if anyone else lives there - check back in on him. Does he have kids to care for him? A wife? A husband? A social worker?
But I don’t want to appear a stalker or anything like that. I know the old man was really upset with himself, and he was quite embarrassed. I don’t want my checking in on him to bring up a renewal of shame on his part.

I’d like to do ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOTHING for the rest of the night due to being shaken up over this. I don’t know if it’s a United States thing, or a humanity thing, but it seems we are taught to just stay out of other peoples’ business, just leave people alone. While I’m happy to say that nobody left this man alone to suffer after falling down, it does seem like the four of us today did something we are not used to doing. We all appeared a bit shaken.
I’d like to not be so skittish and shaken and just rise to the occasion and help people. I don’t want to hesitate. I just want to leap in when needed. I want to automatically know when the person on the other end is in honest need. Had the gentleman who had fallen been around my age, give or take 10 years, I swear I wouldn’t have stopped, fearing a ruse.
But this man is an elder. Elders deserve respect and dignity. I provided that today.

Dear humanity - I will not have kids to look after me when I am old and frail. I am counting on you to be kind and compassionate out of your own good heart. Today I cared for someone in a manner I would wish for myself, were I in his place.

Rest easy this evening, my neighbor.

Last night, just as I lay my head down on my pillow, I began coughing. At first it was intermittent, but after just a few minutes, the cough became relentless, and I found myself in the bathroom nearly puking from all the coughing. My body certainly wanted to expell something, and my head began to hurt.
I took my temperature - 99.5F - and I was seriously confused by this point. WTF?

I popped a Tylenol 3 because my joints have been seriously aching - I went dancing two nights in a row and my joints just can’t take that sort of beating. My knees and ankles had been swollen all day, and as a result, it hurt to stand up, sit down, go up or down stairs, or even sit in a chair for very long.
As well, the Tylenol 3 contains codeine, which suppresses a cough.
Lastly, I had the Sunday Night Insomnia going on, and Tylenol 3 is sure to knock me out.
Call it whack-a-mole if you will, but it’s what worked.

I woke this morning for work and my throat is sore and I have a headache. My eyes hurt.

I took my temperature with the digital temple thermometer - 100.1F - WTF!!!
Wanting to be sure of the reading, I took my temp with the old fashioned glass thermometer - 98.6F.
I tried a third thermometer - an oral digital - 98F.
I took my temp under arm with the glass thermometer - 98F.

I am completely confused.

So I looked up taking a temperature. I read that if the reading is unsure, wait 20 minutes and try again. So at 7:30am I will try again. I read that digital thermometers are considered less reliable than glass thermometers, and that taking one’s temp by armpit is the least reliable way to guage a fever.

…

I’m registering 101F on the digital thermometer, now, and taking my temp orally again… it’s 99F.

Screw this, I’m going in to work anyway. Stoopid body.

9pm Edit: I went to work and worked a full day. I took my temp regularly throughout the day - it hung around 99F to 99.5F.
When I got home, I took my temp - 100.3F.

I’m calling the doctor tomorrow to set up an appointment - I’ve been 99-100F since the flu back on December 7th…maybe longer. Is this my new body temp? I used to always be 97.5F.

What’s going on with my body?

By December 28, my sinus infection or whatever it was, had started to finally fade.

By December 31, my husband’s doctor cleared him to be able to go out in public again, though we’d been stepping out of the house for the past two days as it was, because of cabin fever. The doctor said that as long as one still has a cough, one is still contagious, at least when it comes to H1N1. My husband had a mild cough, and was told as long as he coughs into his inner elbow, and washes his hands frequently, the spread of the illness would be greatly minimised.

So on New Year’s Eve, we went to our friend’s house, and enjoyed a mellow evening just hanging out. Some of our friends have young children now, so the house was filled with infant and preschooler noises as well.
I had reminded my husband on the way to the party about how to cough into his elbow, since we employ this method in the Montessori school I work for.
Of course, within the first half hour, my dear husband jokingly shoved his face into a box of homemade cookies and made ‘nom nom nom’ noises.
I pulled him aside immediately and reminded him of his germs. He sheepishly said he was sorry, that he’d forgotten already.
*sigh*

On January 1st, we decided to go dancing, since we’d been screwed out of most of our vacation by being sick. We sweated and danced our asses off at Meat vs. Death Guild.

The next night, we returned to the same location for New Wave City, and danced some more. I began to get sad on the way to the club, because I realised it was our last night out together before having to return to work. We’d not been able to go to Michigan to see friends and family, and we’d not been able to go out into the world from Christmas Eve til New Year’s Eve in any capacity to hang with friends, much less go wining, dining and dancing.

Today is the end of our “vacation”. Tomorrow it’s back to work. I slept in til 11:30am, despite having told myself that would be a bad idea - that I’d have insomnia tonight. Ah well.

Throughout the past week and a half, I’ve checked flight status on the airline we were supposed to have flown. Our flight made it safely to Michigan on December 25, and safely back to San Francisco on January 2. The Cabal party we were supposed to attend still happened in our absense, and pictures and dialogue were posted. I kept tabs on the weather - snow fell regularly through Christmas into the New Year in Michigan.
It’s a bit surreal knowing all of this, and having reality be that I never got on the plane.

Meanwhile, back in California, it’s been a mix of rain and sun, and the temperature has been roughly in the 50°F range during the day, and in the 30-40°F range in the evenings.

Yesterday as we shopped for a dishwasher, I informed my husband that we’d boarded the plane in Michigan and were now on our way home.
This morning I had a nightmare that we’d overslept and likely missed our flight back to San Francisco. I spent a lot of time on my cell phone with a bad connection to Travelocity to try to pin down whether the plane had left already or not. The nightmare ended with me at my ma’s house, having gone into the kitchen and turned down the country music on an old small boombox radio, so I could hear the phone conversation about how to go about getting booked on another flight. My husband was in the living room, my brother had just walked in the front door, and the boy next door stood on his porch with his wife, who was there and then not there and then there again…like some sort of hologram. The two looked a bit Victorian.

My cough returned Wednesday or Thursday as I cleaned the house, because of the dust. The cough settled, then returned again by Saturday morning, along with phlegm, after my husband and I had gotten all kissy face for the first time in about two weeks. I was hesitant but gave in. We’ll see if I get sick again. I don’t have the best immune system…

Yesterday I was so tired all day long, despite having slept in, that I wanted to cry. I overcaffinated myself to no avail. Today I’m feeling pretty tired again, but not as worn out as I was on Saturday. I’m guessing I was just super dehydrated and worn out from all that dancing and sweating on Friday, since it is the first major activity in weeks on account that I’ve been sick. I first got the flu around December 5, and my husband’s doctor thinks it was a blend of H1N1 and the regular flu. She says it takes weeks to fully recover from it, and that relapses can happen.

So it’s back to wait and see, now that we’ve had a weekend of strenuous activity via the nightclubs.