I think humor helped when I kept saying, “Hey, I’m not in the Obit, I’m still alive.” I’m in the third week of pneumonia, lungs are still not completely healed. I was so sure I was going to die from complications but such drama, thankfully, didn’t happen.
I need to heal because I’m giving the keynote address to open a national conference in Denver next month, followed by two workshops on the following day: a workshop for caregivers and one for relatives who are raising children without their parents.
Had an excellent caregiver, nurse in Red. I did tell him one night,” Can you fire the chef who did tonight’s soup, it’s too salty.” He said, “I already fired him.” One night I told him I wanted Kapoho style healing food: Vienna sausage, hot rice and eggs. He looked stunned and said, “Nobody eats that stuff.” I got up and added shoyu (soy sauce) and sugar to a whole can of Vienna sausage, and was it good with rice and eggs! And healing began.
Spam is next on the menu.
The sound of the washer in the middle of the night brought back some vivid memories. In one hour, I had four bathroom accidents. I was too ill to do anything about it. That sound of the washer reminded me of the times we used the washer in the middle of the night when we cared for our mothers. And here, I was now the cause of it with Red doing the cleaning and washing. I kept thinking of a poem: The sound of the washer at 3 a.m..
STay tuned to the announcement of my next poetry book that is being released next week.
Frank Graham of Sacramento Poetry Center will be interviewing me on:
