Blue Angels and one not so blue

Imagine—it’s the end of August already. Winter should fly so fast. This past week was the first week of classes at the U. As usual, I worked the Welcome Table in front of my building on Monday and Tuesday from 7m-9am. In the past we had two people at a table, but this year for some reason, they had trouble finding people willing to work them. I like to do it because it’s fun helping new students find their way around and answering their questions. I wound up working alone both times, but that’s OK. On Monday I was so busy I handed out hundreds of logo'd planners and pencils and pens and keychains—hardly had time to get the table set up when people started streaming by.

It was noisy work, since there is a huge construction pit right in front of the building, with five excavators hammering on old concrete, loading up old rebar, and generally roaring around without let up. They tore down the old student center and will open a new one in about year and a half. The wing of our building where our offices are has been shuddering since the beginning of July, since we all seem to be sitting on the same concrete pad as the demolished building.

On Thursday and Friday last week we had the Blue Angels streaking around the city at practically tree top level, practicing for the Cleveland Air Show that’s held every Labor Day weekend. We had a great view from my office, as the planes zipped by in formation, climbing into the sky, disappearing and then roared in from a completely different direction.

I had my last physical therapy appointment last week, and I wanted to do something for my therapist, so I asked one of the aides what she liked and learned that chocolate would be a good thing. Kathy and I drove out to the only mall with a Godiva store and I bought a good sized box for Laura the therapist and a smaller one that she could use to share with the other people at the clinic. I also bought her some swim goggles that I thought she could use. When I arrived for my appointment, she wasn’t there yet, so I was able to stash the duffel bag with the goodies in it in a closet without being observed. After the appointment—during which we really worked hard by the way—I made my presentation. I told her that I had been treated by five orthopedic surgeons, five physical therapists, three emergency room doctors and my own doctor, but she was the only one out of all those people to take the time to diagnose me properly and find the source of my problem and fix it. She was touched—she was mostly excited about the goggles, I think. Then she went to the computer and told me that there are still three more sessions.