August 21 – “Oops, a Lexus”

For the Queen and her faithful band the issue was not a place to stay.  Indeed they had not even begun to consider alternate lodging.  My own brother in fact had an empty home nearby, available for a short time.  There the group began this new twist in the already confusing scenario.  And a daunting task before them lay.  All of their belongings must be removed from castle grounds.  All of it.  Nothing could remain.  Not once-mighty, now-toppled cases which teemed with books.  Not tiny palm-sized keepsake boxes with remnants of the Queen's modest array of jewels.  Not colorful couches or piles of pillows.  Not favorite clothing or instruments of music.  All must be removed.  All must be carried, regretfully, away from the castle grounds and placed – no, dumped – all-too unceremoniously near the path of those designated to slowly remove it, to dispose of it.    The distasteful task was in process throughout Greater Island.  The diverse Islanders suddenly found that they had this one thing in common.  All have lost.  All are grieving.  But all must come together as one, already united in loss, and push on.  Move forward.  Ever forward.  Through the slime.  Through the filth.  Through the stench.  Through the memories.    I had a plan for today.  Actually the master plan was to begin last night.  I was going to take one of the new pills the rheumatologist prescribed yesterday and go right to bed.  The label on them was covered with warning after warning.  "Do not operate heavy machinery after taking."  "Medication may make you drowsy."  "Be sure you know how this medication will affect you before you do anything important."  OK.  It didn't say that last one.  But my favorite was "You can take this medication with food, but it will decrease its effectiveness.  Warning: if you take this medication on an empty stomach nausea might result."    So.  I was going to take one and go to bed.  Yesterday was one of the worst pain days I have had in a long time.  I have had nothing for pain for the last two weeks while the evil medication that worked so well but also enjoyed messing up my liver got out of my system.  As you might expect, it got steadily worse.  At least the doctor was able to see me when I was in pain this time.  I finally took one around 9:30 or so.  I figured that was long enough.    I slept OK.  For an hour.  Then I woke up and groggily looked at the clock.  And went back to sleep.  An dthen I repeated the above in an hour.  And again in an hour.  I woke up every single hour on the hour all night.  I remember it clearly.  I felt like I was in the operating room and the yhad already begun gassing me every time.  Very strange.  I was always able to get back to sleep, though.    Today the pain hasn't been all that bad.  It hs worsened as the day progressed, so I'll take another tonight.  But back to the original thought.  My plan was to stick around the house all day and take one every three hours like it said I could on the bottle.  I would begin as soon as I got back from WalMart.  But it was WalMart on a Saturday.  In Galveston.  In the summer.  On tax-free weekend.  There were one or two other folks in the store with me.  Undaunted, I plodded through the teeming masses and got the things we needed.  I even stopped to talk to a few folks I knew along the way.  Not to mention my usual people-watching.  Had to get that in.  When I went to the parking lot I chirped the alarm on our Chevy Equinox door lock system and reached for the handle.  And it wasn't our car.  I stepped back and took a closer look.  Oops, a Lexus.  That was most assuredly not our car.    By the time I got home my brother an dhis wife were here to take Mom out to eat for her birthday.  Only it was for my birthday too.  So I was invited.  My uncle even came.  We went to Gumbo Bar on PostOffice Street.  Great gumbo.  Go sometime.  And we came back to the house for some more of the great chocolate pie from Christina.    And about two minutes after they drove off Nathan and April and Cailyn came by to give Mom a pint of ice cream so she could eat the whole thing and not have to share with me.  Gotta love those boys of mine.  When they left she brought me over an ice cream cone.  Gotta love that Mom of mine.   So finally everyone was gone.  I could begin my plan for the day.  Only the day was pretty much over.  I'll wait until later and take another one before bed.  Maybe it will keep me under longer that one hour at a time.  I appreciate the freedom from pain, though, however temporary.   Psalms 33:11 says, "But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations."   Father, I trust you to handle the details of carrying out the proper plans.  Even the ones I come up with that flutter and change.  Amen.