Poke

Inspirational song: Hit Me With Your Best Shot (Pat Benatar)

I realize, as I'm typing out the title of this evening's song, that it might imply my topic would veer into discussion of the Rona vaccine. I hadn't intended to, even though it's a timely subject, and all over the news. I'm not scheduled to get it anytime soon. Maybe they'll say something about when I should present myself for it tomorrow when I report to the rheumatologist for a blood draw I couldn't do a month ago at my appointment that ended up on Zoom. The only one of us I expect to get it soon will be my younger daughter, whose recent job change will keep her in the health care industry, back in a senior living facility and in contact with residents. If she doesn't get it with the month, I will be shocked.

No, today was a different sort of shot. Mr S-P needed a cortisone shot into a joint, and it had to be precisely positioned via x-ray. I was all excited to witness things from a different angle, as the spouse not having something cut, inserted, or removed. I had at least hoped to be in the prep/recovery room, if not watching the procedure like he did for my skin cancer removal and thyroid biopsy. No such luck. They said the whole thing would be quick and there really wasn't seating in the little room. So I sat in the main waiting area, near where my daughter used to work until last month, and just scrolled through the internet until they were done. It wasn't a big deal, and he wasn't sedated. Just had a bunch of local anesthetic, so I got to drive for the rest of the day. The whatever-caine hadn't worn off the last time I remembered to ask how it was feeling, and now he has already gone to sleep. I'll ask tomorrow whether he thinks there is improvement. Let's hope. If this doesn't buy much time, the next step might be all the way to joint replacement, and we want to put that off as long as possible.

With the holidays coming soon, I have to carefully edit my topics to publish. It's hard to fill my usual space and end gracefully. I've all but given up on that last part lately. I suppose that it's safe to assume when I end abruptly or it seems like a clunky non sequitur, it's because the things I want to add are somehow off-limits. Rather than torture myself to make it all match and flow, I'm just throwing down words and running away. Like now.