October 2002

‘October’, the eighth month of the year, if you read the word as it is derived from Latin. Somehow or other the Romans allowed the name to stay after Julius and Augustus decided they needed a month named after themselves –or so it appears to me. We would all be upset if we awoke and found the month properly named i.e., ‘December’, the 10th month. I keep promising myself I am going to go and learn how this misnaming all came about but have failed so far to do so. Maybe with more time on my hands I’ll get to it, as long as the tomes I use for my research doesn’t weigh more than 10 pounds. I’m under doctor’s orders to limit my isometric exercise to lifting or pushing items of 10 pounds or less.

It reminds me of an old Hal Roach story about an Irishman who decided he really ought to read a book. So he took himself to the library. He expressed his wish to the librarian. She inquired if he had any particular preference in mind. He said, no. Then she asked, if he wanted to try something heavy? He said, “It makes no difference I have my car with me” (After some laughter here’s where Hal would add, “Write that down, it’s a good one!”)

We spent the last week of September down at the beach. We had the company of Paul and Marie Keeley. It was at the “Tradewinds Resort” in St.Pete’s Beach. The accommodations were great. We were on the sixth floor facing the Gulf. It however looked like we were back in Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic due to the surf. We had delayed a day in heading down while we waited for the hurricane ‘Isidore’ to make up its mind. It at one point appeared to be heading to the Florida West coast, but it continued north and went in at the panhandle. The effect of its passing churned the Gulf so that it appeared similar to the breakers of the Atlantic. While we were there we had rain, white caps, and people actually trying to surf where before there was nothing but ripples. Twice on one day I ventured down to the pool to join June and a shower came. It became acceptable to refer to me as a ‘rainmaker’ so I limited my visits. Marie and June were naturals since the both love the sun and the water, while Paul and I studiously avoided both. I shouldn’t put Paul in my class however since he did venture out into those conditions more than I. Most of my time was spent re-reading Thomas Cahill’s “Desire for the Everlasting Hills: the World before and after Jesus” It is one of his in the series of “hinges of history’, which included “How the Irish Saved Civilization” and “The Gift of the Jews” I listened to a tape of Carl Sagan’s “Contact” read by the star of the movie, Jodie Foster. In between beach and reading we managed each evening to find a restaurant in the resort where we could get our 20% discount and good food.

While enjoying the shore visit, June and I talked and looked forward to our week in October in North Carolina in the Smokey Mountains. Regrettably, the plans went up in smoke the Monday after we returned, and Paul and Marie had headed home. I had another dizzy episode. We were ordered to the outpatient clinic at still another hospital, St.Anthony’s. They attached a heart monitor and took some more blood. We learned a week later that it showed all in the heart department seems to be in good working order. I jokingly told friend that the monitor, a box hanging from a strap around my neck, was really a ‘snack beeper’. It went off advising June every time I attempted to snack! Incidentally my brother-in-law, Dan, assured me that dizziness is a McSorley family attribute so he was not surprised to hear it was happening. We had hoped that we would see them on the week in North Carolina, but called to advise them we thought it best to cancel the visit this time. The diagnosis remains uncertain. The thought is now it may be neurological caused so we are now on the waiting list of Neurologist for an appointment. I feel fine and still fight the bristling at having to avoid and leave along most of past chores…but my loving keeper makes it all acceptable despite the “bristles”. Shortly after the episode when I brought up on my computer screen a reading for today and there staring at me in capital letters was, “Waiting Patiently”. How appropriate! The author noted that our impatience with people is common and somewhat more controllable than patience with situations. A few days later the reading was entitled “Patience is a Virtue”. It particularly referred to men. Men have a need to control, to keep the situation under their hands. It is considered an admirable trait to be such. Thus having to give up that control and admitting the situation controls me is a task. But with the support I have received and need from June, my family, and friends I am learning to live with it. The reports from the monitor and the blood last Tuesday were all good. The doctor did lower my intake of blood thinner and the blood pressure medicine, and my ankles still swell during the day. My hope it that it is connected somehow with all the medicine but in the meantime I will practice that virtue called “patience”

I’m reading “Tom Sawyer”. Why? Well, it just happened that a Sunday or so ago the preacher had been to see Garrison Keeler, a modern day storyteller. He called him the modern Mark Twain. Then a few days later I was in bed with June watching “Everybody Loves Raymond’ and his mother was shocked to learn that he had never read “Tom Sawyer”. June asked me if I had done so, and frankly I didn’t think I ever did. I like Twain’s writing. I remembered reading his “Life on the Mississippi” and an essay type book on Christian Science and its founder. I also read an essay by him on Joan of Arc. But ‘Tom Sawyer’ I never recall reading and now that I am somewhat through it I am sure I didn’t. His story telling is superb. I even learned that Tom lived in St. Petersburg, which would have meant little if I had read it years ago. The nearest town to Tom’s home was Constantinople! I think Mr. Clemens must have written Tom’s stories shortly after his trip to Europe and Russia and his writing of “Innocents Abroad “. Yet I really should check first and see if there isn’t now or ever were a St.Pete’s and Constantinople in Missouri. I noted too that Tom, like Harry Potter, is a cousin/nephew in the household so the tendency of Aunt Polly is to be a bit more severe than to her own son Sid. But Harry’s life at home was ten times worse than Tom’s, since Aunt Polly clearly loved the little guy, while Potter’s foster parents treated him like a pariah. I am getting some good laughs at Tom’s shenanigans and agree it is a classic. I only hope June doesn’t want a book report when I’m finished, since I’m not making any notes!

It is now October 11 and I had another visit to another hospital via the Emergency Squad on Sunday October 6th. It was decided after arriving home on Monday that I should have the procedure of my heart being catheterized. It was set for Thursday, yesterday, as I write. We spent a long day June and I in yet another hospital. This one was “Children’s Hospital” an adjunct to Bayfront where this procedure is done. The good news is that what was thought to be a corroded valve was found to be line with some calcified matter that can be attributed to my age. The bypass of 8 years ago was found to be in good order.I am now carrying another beeper. This one is called an “event monitor” which will tape whatever happens when I get the dizziness. Next week we will attack the head to see if we can find a reason there. We have great help from all our friends since I am grounded as a driver and June doesn’t drive. Our hope now goes with all that will happen next week under the neurologist.

I wonder maybe we were sent to Children’s Hospital since they heard I was reading Tom Sawyer, and now I reading aloud to June “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”. But I really don’t think so, since we were advised that it just happened to be the place where this procedure is done. I am resting, reading, painting, playing the piano and praying that soon we will have an answer.

I was reading an essay by CSLewis entitled “The World’s Last Night”. It refers to the biblical apocalyptic prediction of the end of the world. In the course of it I came across a rather appropriate paragraph which reads, “A man of seventy need not be always feeling (much less talking) about his approaching death: but a wise man of seventy should always take it into account. He would be foolish to embark on schemes which presuppose twenty more years of life: he would be criminally foolish not to make – indeed, not to have made long since his will” Lewis was a professor at Cambridge and I don’t recall him being particularly fond of lawyers, so it good to see he’s found a place for them. He died on the same day John Kennedy was shot, November 22,1963, at the age of sixty-five.

I regret that these jottings seem to be taken up more with my trips to the hospital than the many other events in our lives, but forgive my indulgence. The greatest dividend is that June and I are spending all this time together and it is wonderful!