I am writing this from my hospital room. When about about to go down some stairs, I glanced at a sign that said, "Be Careful Going Down Stairs."
The above is not true, but it might have been. The night was full of weird dreams whose details I have mercifully forgotten. Sleep was interrupted by a mild anxiety attack accompanied by the illusion that a stranger was in the room touching me. Awakening two hours later than usual, Gloria and I went to "Eco Park" only to learn that it was the right day but the wrong hours to recycle a broken dehumidifier and leave some outdated medicines. I would have dropped off some unneeded clothes and a collection of old eyeglasses but we couldn't locate the glasses that we had put where we could be sure to find them.
The telephone company was supposed to come to see if they could find out why my defibrillator and pacemaker will not transmit data to the doctor to indicate whether my heart is in trouble. They haven't even called. Maybe their phones will not work.
The garage door people are due shortly to reattach the piece that connects the door to the lift chain.
Stay tuned for updates, unless I fall down the stairs that must be descended so that I can fix my lunch. Hope my heartburn does not return.
