Junie's Online Thoughts
Thursday, September 12, 2002
Im really glad its today. Yesterday was weird, weird, weird. Noodle was painfully slow until around 8 and then we got slammed. I made way more money than I thought I would, but by the time I got home, I was absolutely exhausted.
Tonight is our art contest for Memory Walk. All artwork was done by people with Alzheimer's disease. The last two years, the auction and contest have been fun....probably wont buy any this year, but I love seeing the art created by someone with the disease....how they see the world.....very interesting.
Stacy (sister) has her 2nd surgery today for her other wrist. She's just starting to use the hand that was operated on last week, but the next 10 or 12 days will be hard and painful. Argh..........many good thoughts and blessings to her.
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
Blech. Bad bad day. Such strange energy......you know somethings up when you go to the busiest post office in a 10 mile area over lunchtime and there is no line. In fact, there are only 3 other people in the entire place. Its quiet.....and sullen......and I can really tell that no one wants to be at work today. I think everyone would rather be at home, with their families, with their tvs, with the silence....but life goes on.....and we're all here instead. I have a feeling that Noodle is going to be empty tonight--any time the president addresses the nation, we're realllllllllly slow. Fine by me. Maybe we can close early and I can veg out with Jeremy.
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
Tomorrow is September 11th. When I read my work email this morning, I found a beautiful and poignant letter from John Jager, the executive director of the Alzheimer's Association in New York City. Last year, during and after the terrorist attacks, John wrote across the intranet--sharing his bird's eye view of the city, the aftermath, the emotional toll. He watched the whole thing from his office window near Lexington Avenue. Too many times my eyes would fill up.....he had a wonderful way of being heartfelt without being trite. (Better than I can do, some days.) This year, he remembers that time just twelve months ago, his weekly emails to the rest of us, how he eventually stopped writing so he wouldnt trivialize the heroism and bravery he saw. He also remembers the overwhelming support throughout the association as their Memory Walk fell to pieces, but we all sent them donations and National cut their dues, others portioning off their own Memory Walk proceeds to send to the NYC chapter. That was the stuff that always cut me up---how people desperately wanted to do something, send something, give something over and over again. Yeah, I cant be there to pass a bucket, but here is $100 to use in the relief efforts. I cant be there to help in the search, but here are 35 blankets, or my blood, or these boxes of food.
I dont know how much of the memorial TV specials I will watch. Probably very little. The imagery is still burned into my head...right now I can still see the towers crumbling, the still-photos of the plane hanging in the air seconds before it struck, the shock of so many faces across the world. It wont make it more real if I watch them. It wont make me any less saddened and angry at the amount of hatred in this world, or any less thankful or amazed at the human spirit in the face of the unthinkable. I dont know what it would do. Instead I will be at work setting up two classes, then at Noodle. Life goes on, I guess, despite the weirdness. So little has changed, and so much.
In any case, here's to the thousands who died that day, for the million acts of selflessness, for the honest display of grief, for the short moments when we forget all the shit in our normal routines and act as a unified, cohesive whole.
TV or no TV, we all still remember.
Monday, September 09, 2002
Mondays suck. Talked to Stacy on Saturday after surgery. It sounded awful. Apparently, they refuse to put the patient under...you only get a local to freeze the arm. The needle, according to Stacy, was about 3 inches long and the nurse kept moving it around when it was in her wrist. Some sort of bubble appeared with the fluid in it and then her wrist went numb. They put up a screen, had a nurse standing by her head to talk and keep her occupied while the surgery began. Stacy said she didnt feel pain, but could essentially feel the doctor cutting through her wrist. He complained that the tendon was completely red and swollen and when he cut it, the tendon snapped and hit her on the hand. She could feel blood come out and was trying not to cry or puke. (I would have been doing both, thank you very much.) The whole thing took about an hour or so, they stitched her up, wrapped the arm and sent her home. On Saturday, she was elevating her hand and suffering a lot of pain. She had removed the bandage once so Chris could clean it, but without it on her wrist, it hurt more. Support is a good thing.
She gets the stitches removed this Friday, and they do the right hand at that time. I kept urging her to wear house dresses instead of pants with zippers, or bras with clasps, or anything that would make it harder for her to do basic daily activities. I bought her one from Target....unattractive compared to jeans and a t-shirt, but she needs to heal and why make things harder so you can feel pretty around your house when no one sees you? I kept saying...be a slob for a month, you just had surgery, you dont need to do your hair. We'll see. It all sounds awful and painful and I certainly hope it works for her. Such a shame to go through carpel tunnel surgery and have it only get worse or stay the same. So more good vibes to sister Stacy.
