aluminum caskets for two

It’s been a challenging six weeks. Nicole and her cardiologist have been trying a different medication just about every day. On every trip we’ve made to the hospital I’ve had the song “Dropkick Me, Jesus” playing in my head. Fortunately I’ve seen definite improvement in our Nicolette, just not at the rate that we are impatient for.

Despite the challenges and stress, I think I’ve had a pretty positive attitude. I honestly believe that I’ve enjoyed an optimistic outlook. And yet I suspect my subconscious disagrees…

I dreamt that I had reached the end of my rope at work. I determined that the only solution was for my assistant Yni (pronounced “Ee-nee”) and I to commit suicide. Yes, Yni and I would escape from our frustrations by ending our lives - the only rational, noble solution. Very Roman.

Conveniently, our office supply catalog featured reasonably priced aluminum caskets. I ordered a pair of the same model and they seemed to arrive immediately. Yni is more petite than I am so I ordered a smaller sized casket for her.

Upon seeing her casket, Yni gave me one of her categorized looks. This is look #9 that conveys the idea: “I understand what you’re trying to tell me. Nevertheless, I disagree with your scheme. I’m not going to say anything now, because I know how you react when challenged at the theoretical stage. But you can expect me to speak up before you do any real damage. So go ahead - run wild, run free.”

I began making preparations, tested my casket’s hinges, told Yni how our coworkers would realize, only too late, how necessary and valuable she and I really were. Everything would fall apart without us. By the time the others understood that they needed our help, Yni and I would have already passed away.

“How are we going to actually die?” Yni asked.

“Well, we’re going to suffocate!” I said, “Right there inside those caskets.”

“I see,” said Yni, sizing up her casket. I was already lying in mine and could tell that Yni was hesitating.

“What’s wrong? What’s the problem?” I said in my usual patient tone.

“I don’t think mine is big enough for me,” said Yni.

“You’re going to be dead!” I sputtered, “You don’t have to be comfortable!” She continued to hesitate. “Fine!” I said, leaping out of my casket, “You take the big casket, I’ll take yours. I’ll just bend my knees a little, I don’t care if I’m comfortable.” I crammed myself into the lady-sized casket and looked up at Yni. Still she hesitated.

The last thing I remember is sighing and saying to Yni:
“I just don’t think you get it.”

bright moments

We saw the cardiologist today and got some different heart medication for Nicole, hopefully it will be more helpful.

Meanwhile, it’s nice to still be able to laugh. Young Devon has, for some months, been dating Yuko, a young lady from Japan. In the spring, Nicole and I enjoyed having them over for dinner. For some reason I was inspired that night to lend Devon my DVD of the mini-series “Shogun” – let’s not ask why, I’ll just join you in shaking our heads about how my mind works.

I was greatly amused this weekend to read an e-mail from Devon featuring his reaction:

“…I’d like to write and tell you my thoughts about Shogun, but my busy time and lazy time have only given me the chance to watch one disk. The age is what I like most about it. It might sound stupid, but the technology used to film and the acting remind me of ether Roots or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.”

Musing over this later, all I could remember was:

“Roots” + “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” = “Shogun”.

root canal

38 years old, never needed braces, never had a cavity, regular visits for teeth cleaning have always been freighted with compliments from the dentist on what good shape my teeth are in. You can imagine what kind of a helter skelter year I've had from the fact that I haven't been to the dentist in all that time and managed to develop a problem requiring a root canal.

For you folks who haven't heard from me in quite some time and think I'm taking it easy and am just too lazy to e-mail you -- you're not the only ones whom I'm neglecting, I'm also neglecting my own body! And I really need my body!

Friday after work I went to see my new dentist, Dr. Chan of Healthy Smile Family Dentistry on Fair Oaks in South Pasadena. To make a long story short, he did the first part of my root canal on Friday night and stage two on Saturday morning.

The happy smile news is that it was a painless experience. They pumped a load of anesthetic into my gum and all the nerves were shut down in the lower right quadrant of my face until about 10 p.m. Whenever I touched my cheek or my chin it felt like a hunk of somebody else's face had been grafted onto mine, and it felt like the face of a huge person. The worst part of the procedure was that when he started drilling into the nerve of my sick tooth it smelled like burnt hair.

It's been over a year since I've been plugged into heavy duty antibiotics and once again I am grateful to have them. I also had pain medication prescribed but never friggin' needed it! That's what I'm talkin' about. As Dr. Chan was drilling away at the old fellow who was my tooth, sawing off slabs of gum, I was thinking to myself, "This is my kind of twenty-first century technology, what a root canal should be like. The only way this could be easier is if it could be done by phone."

The only truly painful part of this story is that Dr. Chan hit me for $244 on Friday night and $231 on Saturday morning, all out of my own pocket. And the hits keep coming, he's still got to install the permanent crown (they were wondering if I would be interested in a designer model for $900; I'll take generic). So I've got this blocky, robotic, temporary crown for three weeks, looks like a tiny hippopatamus tooth. When Dr. Chan gets back from wherever he's going, probably the Bahamas, he'll finish the job and then we'll make an appointment for a regular teeth cleaning. In the meantime I can only eat soft foods, let me know if you have any suggestions.

In other news, Nicole begins her third week of disability tomorrow. Her heart medication is giving her awful side effects including near constant anxiety. I think we've been to every emergency room in the area several times. Many of our moving boxes are unpacked but we're still using paper plates and plastic utensils because we can't find where we packed the real ones.

I will end on a positive note - the New Beverly Cinema is, apparently, not closing after all. Thank Heavens. Now I just gotta find the time to go watch a movie there. For now, Nicole and I are cheering ourselves up by watching the all-day "Ice Road Truckers" marathon on the History Channel.

Unpacking

I am exhausted. Things have been very challenging. We are finally moved into the new apartment in Arcadia. Nicole has been sick for about a month now. She’s arranged to be off of work for two weeks and she doesn’t feel significantly better than when this started.

But on the positive side, I’m noting progress in Nicole’s condition. And somehow we managed to get everything out of the blue house this Sunday and turn in the keys. We aren’t going to move again until my children can speak to me.

The tree in front comforts me in my unhinged state. Haven’t took a swim in the pool yet, but there’s a good time coming. Our apartment is up the stairs on the second floor and it’s relaxing to look down on the pool from our patio. We’re done moving, I’m out of juice, and I’m exhaling amidst all these boxes in the living room. I’ll post pictures of the inside of the apartment after we unpack.

Our apartment is in an Asian neighborhood and we are fortunate to live within walking distance of a 99 Ranch Asian supermarket. We’re also close to Santa Anita Race Track and the Los Angeles Arboretum (where they filmed the “Zee plane! Zee plane!” opening sequence from “Fantasy Island”).