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Tuesday
Mar152005

Parking

At the hospital where I have to go, parking is horrid. I go at least 30 minutes ahead because I know it will take at least that long to find a space. I have gotten savvy and sit to the side at the back of the parking lot, stalking those that are leaving their appointments to snatch their parking spaces as they edge out; I slide in. A sort of anonymous car sharing experience.

It can get vicious out there.

Today, an overabundance of cars were circling, circling... I sat stationary as I usually do. After 20 minutes of waiting, a woman walking to her car headed down my direction and another car turned the corner and started to follow her. I began cussing loudly. I saw them exchange words, the woman pointed to her car – 2 cars in front of me. I was squealing obscenities as the woman got in her car and the driver, a woman, grinned as the car pulled out of the space so that that other car was able to pull in before I could get there. I sat there staring. And cussing.

The woman got out of the car and then, without looking at me at all, she got back in her car. I thought, is she parked funny? She pulled out backwards and looked right at me and with the kindest face, mouthed, “you take it.” I just looked at her and she nodded, so I pulled in.

By the time I got out of the car, she was gone, off on her circling like birds of prey searching for the next meal. My head was flooded with thoughts, uppermost of which was shame. She couldn’t have seen me cussing at her. She sure couldn’t hear it. What in the world made her get back in her car and pull out for me? She had her own appointment to get to, why did she risk being late? I peeked over cars looking for her to ask her why she did that, but didn’t see her anywhere.

I thought about her and her grace during my entire appointment. I kicked myself for many things, but most of all for not taking down her license plate so I could find her car and put a thank you card on it. As I write this 2 days later, I am still filled with shame at my anger towards this woman who ended up giving me an extremely kind and graceful gift. I thanked her in my prayers.

The appointment itself was okay. My titers are up again; remission is non-existent. The Diflucan stays at 800 mg a day for at least another 6-12 months. So, no hair still for a long time. My eyebrows are diminishing. Can the armpit hair be far behind? The doc also increased my Acyclovir to 800 mg a day without a headache and then with the first sign of meningitis, up it to 800 mg three times a day. Between that and the Vicodin, perhaps we can avoid any more of what I had in November/December.

I wasn’t too disturbed about the results, surprisingly. I just shrugged and said, “well, more mental/spiritual work to do.” I am reveling in feeling really good right now.

With the postpartum doula gig, my days and nights are all mixed up. I just got up from a nap and it’s 5:15pm. I head back to their house at 9pm.

No license.

No agent.

No publisher.

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