CHANGES

Did you miss me? I have not written a blog in two weeks. I’m okay. A bit depressed over the death in Illinois of Nancy, my friend for 30 years. Even more upset by a change in routine.

One Saturday during dialysis I was sitting in my recliner when the nurse interrupted my reading the article on Rick Perry in "Newsweek". (Honestly! How could anyone take seriously that cowboy’s candidacy for President?) The nurse handed me a slip of paper and said, “You wanted to come to dialysis on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, instead of Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. You will start on Monday.”

“I can’t start on Monday. That afternoon I’m giving a program at my retirement home.”

I requested the change many months ago. I was told three people were ahead of me on the waiting list. I had to wait for people to die before I could make the change. I put it out of my mind and filled up my calendar with events for Mondays and Wednesdays.

The change was postponed for a week. On Monday I talked to a half dozen old ladies about Van Gogh and Romans in Provence, how I ate ice cream at the café painted by Van Gogh and drove my BMW across the Roman arches of the Pont de Garde, the often-photographed 2,000-year-old aqueduct in the South of France.

I also changed my appointment with my dermatologist. In August I postponed my annual visit with Dr. Smith because my car was in the shop getting a new engine. (Did I write about that?) Now I had to put it off again. I will see the doctor in November.

I was surprised how upset I became over shuffling my schedule. I’ve had so many changes in my life, I should take changes in – well, I don’t stride any more -- but without stumbling.

I’ll soon be settled in my new routine, writing blogs between dialysis days. I will write about my travels. I will continue telling about seeing Europe with David, when he was 13 years old. The ultimate destination was Paris, but so far I’ve only told about our first day in Frankfurt, Germany. On that trip we had no set schedule. I made it up each day as David and I climbed into the rental car. .

That miserable little Opal was a bitch to drive, but that didn’t stop me. So what’s the big deal about changing an appointment with a dermatologist? He is going to tell me, “You’re doing fine. Come back next year.”

Coming soon: More adventures in Germany. But first, a word about Nancy.