Very scant snow flurries were coming down as I drove to town to pick up Sam from his trombone lesson at junior high. Most snowflakes became water as soon as they hit the windshield. Occasionally one stuck as a flake. I like winter—especially from inside where I am warm. Ha.
One of my all-time favorite winter memories was driving home years ago from a night class at John A. Logan and finding myself in a heavy snowstorm. I finally reached Route 166 within few miles of our house. Visibility diminished until I really could not see what was ahead of me, and I knew the same would be true of any cars behind me. All I could see was swirling whiteness glorified by the headlights of my car.
The beauty of that snow was overwhelming, and created a vision I cherish. I knew I was in danger, but I could not be afraid because the magical loveliness kept crowding out fear. I did not want to waste a minute of enjoying that spectacular snowy wonder. Traffic is always slight on that road, but there usually are occasional cars in both directions. I was creeping trying to see ahead and stay on the road, and I hoped no hurrying traveler would ram me from either direction. Yet I just kept thinking what a beautiful way it would be to die with all that loveliness in my brain. Evidently that night I was alone on that portion of the road, and I made it quite safely to the turn off to our country road. I was grateful not only for the safe arrival, but also for the indelible vision of driving through such winter loveliness.
We are supposed to have snow again on Friday, but it sounds as if tomorrow I can make my long-delayed dental appointment that I didn’t want to schedule until after the holidays. We received our H1N1 shots this week. I’m gradually working through various check-ups on my list. Unfortunately, I may have a new one to attend to. I grew increasingly stiff on Sunday and knew pain in my lower back, and was walking poorly when I went to bed. When I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I could hardly walk at all. A good night’s sleep, however, seemed to put the trouble to rest. I was glad since I was scheduled to give a devotion at our church’s women meeting that night.
That morning Gerald received good news when the ophthalmologist said his eye he’d been concerned about had seemingly healed itself and was almost back to normal. The seeping that had caused a slight swelling next to the macular was gone. The feared correction that might have resulted in a blind spot in the middle of his eye would be unnecessary.
I’d tagged along to his appointment, book in hand to read while I waited, just in case he needed me to drive him home, but he didn’t need me to. It was noon, so we went through a drive-in to take lunch home, and I had the afternoon to finish working on the devotional that I had started a couple weeks before. I was glad I was walking without the pain of the day before. I assumed I too was on the road to recovery. I’ve always had great faith in the body healing itself.
Fortunately the hostess had given us maps to their rural home quite a ways from the neighborhoods I’m familiar with. I was the last one there despite the map, so I had to park last and walk up a long gravel driveway. That was no problem. I was so happy my back was better. Blocking the earlier arrivals, I had to leave first and started confidently to back my car out of the driveway. A younger friend also leaving early with her mother fortunately stopped me when she caught on I was headed in the wrong direction. Straightened out I made it back home through the unfamiliar roads and went to bed thinking the lower back problem was cured.
Yesterday morning the pain was back with a vengeance, but I stuck with my usual routine. Made the bed, did some chores, fixed lunch. After lunch, I drove to town to run by the state office to pay the state sales tax on the nine books I personally had sold during 2009 since they had gone through no one’s cash register. And I was to pick up a prescription that was supposed to have been filled. The pharmacy had not heard back on the refill though. They kindly loaned me a couple days’ supply and suggested I call my doctor’s office this morning to jog their response. Then I ran by my daughter’s for a visit.
Seeing my awkward gait and pained face when I came in and started supper, Gerald was fussing I needed to do something. But I wasn’t sure what I needed to do. First thing this morning I called the doctor’s office about the refill and asked the nurse to ask the doctor to prescribe a pain pill that I could take with warfarin. In the old days, I always took aspirin on the rare occasions I had pain. The nurse was so sweet and would have worked me in an appointment, but I begged off to see if I would not be better by Friday. I told her I wasn’t up to coming in.
During the night I decided I would just spend today in bed. And I did. I meant to get up to fix Gerald a bite of lunch, but I was sleeping and he had already fixed his own by the time I joined him. I went back to bed with alarms (two clocks) set so I wouldn’t be late picking up Sam. Gerald offered to go, but with no walking required, I felt like doing it and I was certainly rested. I would just go through the drive-in at the pharmacy for the meds. There were five cars ahead of me, so I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to get out in the wetness of the snow.
When I picked up Sam, I told him I was going to get Gerald and me a pizza for supper and wondered if their family might like one too. I could do that before I took him home if he wanted, and he thought it was a good idea. Come to find out, he’d had a scholar bowl meet this morning early and then the after-school lesson, so I think he was ready for something to eat. Again lots of folks evidently had the same idea and the cars at the window were constant. There was a wait after going through the ordering window, but I didn’t have to walk a step as the worker carried the pizzas to the car.
Back at Woodsong, Gerald and I ate pizza downstairs in the family room as we watched the evening news. I took two prescribed pain pills. No dishes to think about. Gerald carried the left-over pizza upstairs. Later we listened to the State of the Union address, and now I am blogging.
I think the pain pills have really helped—or else I was getting better anyway—that is one of the problems if you take something. You don’t know what you might be masking. I will know when I wake up in the morning.
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