Monthly Archives: November 2020

I’m going to be honest. There just haven’t been that many days as of late that have left me breathless. In the best of all possible ways. Today was one of them.

My friend Jim picked me up at 2 pm and we headed to Plum Island Reservation. It was glorious weather. Cool, clear, comfortable. Perfect for a stroll along the beach. We walked and walked, finally coming upon a rather large group of people, all with telephotos drawn. I was initially confused–was this some sort of memorial? There was a lobster pot on the beach with what looked like a cross propped in it. But then I looked closer. All eyes were fixed upon an enormous snowy white owl. Had my photos done it any justice, I would share but this was a you just had to be there moment.

It was a long trek back to the car. As we left the island I looked back over the marsh and the full moon was rising. Two spectacular moments in one day! Damn it felt good to be alive.

Afterward we stopped at Brine, a wonderful oyster bar in Newburyport. Clam chowder and fried oysters with bacon and a soft boiled egg eaten al fresco. The perfect end to a perfect day.

xo

I stopped by the residence of my friends Brian and Caroline tonight. They had a gift for me, a pizza compliments of my pals at Phoenix Rising—simply the best wood-fired pie you are ever going to get from a food truck. Now that I am no longer a resident of Lowell, I have to surrender my regular status. But I shall always be a major fan.

Anyway, back to the visit. Brian is one of my best friends, aka my twin. Fortunately for all, I also adore his partner, Caroline. Beautiful, brainy, the best. Obviously, under the circumstances (twinship) nothing less than perfect would be acceptable.

Kumo and I stopped in this afternoon, for a visit and to pick up our pizza. A visit where we all sat around the bar in the kitchen in our masks, which we lowered now and again to have sips from our drinks.

And, I have to say, that it was flipping weird. Now these are two people who I am uber comfortable with. But goddamn, these are strange times.

As much as I love them both (a lot) I also had the sense that we would all be more comfortable once I had departed and the masks could come off.

It is so flipping sad. That said, I am a fan of masks. My brief stay in the hospital demonstrated just how easy it is to actually was to wear one 24/7. Yup, even while sleeping.

Easy and necessary. But not at all natural. I swear to god both my vision and my hearing are impaired while I am wearing a mask. It is as if the deprivation of one sense has compromised them all.

I just hope that compliance (wear the goddamn mask) shall facilitate the means to an end–that before too long we shall get back to that place where we can hug, kiss and smile freely.

While in the hospital I had a gamut of tests—neurology and cardiology, top to bottom. At the moment I am sporting a wearable that is recording my heart rate over a period of two weeks.

Thus far, everything (aside from my retinas, a finding which is incidental to binimetinib) has checked out normal. This afternoon I had a virtual consult with a doctor from neurology to review my recent episode. Her suspicion is that I did not, in fact, have a seizure. Instead, she attributes my symptoms to convulsive syncope, which can present as a seizure. This is an important distinction as anticonvulsants are not indicated. However, a cardiac workup, which is already under way, is.

I am relieved but once again, also impressed by the high level of care I receive from my doctors at MGH. Truly extraordinary.

xo

I have the best friends. I really do. Not in a your friends are not as good as mine or I want to fight you about this sort of way, but man, I’ve got damn fine friends.

This is something I say with both gratitude and wonder. There are lot of things in my life that flat out suck, but when it comes to friends, I hit the flipping jackpot.

Take tonight. Alicia told me she was bringing over Jordan Marsh blueberry muffins that she baked with her MIL, Mrs. Mooney. Alicia did bring those muffins, along with apples, and wine, and turkey, and sherbet and treats for Kumo. I finally had to freeze the rest of the pot roast and on Thursday yet another feast is coming.

It’s an amazing thing, this loving and being loved stuff. Frankly, I just can’t get enough of it.

So thank you. For being you. And for playing such an important role in my life.

xo

I was exhausted last night, despite the fact that I had spent the last several days primarily lying around. Sound asleep by 9 pm, I did not awaken until 11 am this morning. Fourteen hours straight. I am going to consider it a reboot.

Today I’m tidying up and looking forward to last night’s leftovers. My friend Martha brought me an actual feast. An entire pot roast, cheesy mashed potatoes, caesar salad, baguette, bottle of red wine, box of chocolates and some dried apricots. Oh–and some magical, melt in your mouth pastries called Kouign Amann from a shop named Annarosas. One for breakfast today, the second for breakfast tomorrow.

I’m also planning the week ahead, starting with several days in the studio. It is important to stay on track with a practice such as painting.

The rest of the week is one big question mark. My son Peter and I had planned to spend Thanksgiving together but that is in doubt because of COVID. It also happens to be my birthday–I shall be turning sixty one. It will be odd to be closer to age seventy than to fifty.

I think I am regarding the New Year with greater anticipation. It shall be a relief to consign 2020 to the past. I am already focusing on goals/resolutions. Making comfort more of a priority. Asking for assistance when needed.

Per that second resolution there is something I wish to clarify. I have not tried to cultivate the notion that I am tough and I can say with all honesty, it has never been my goal. The last time I saw my father Ollie (he died on Thanksgiving Day in 2005), he referred to me as his gentle child. I do believe I was born gentle. And also tender. Maybe a little too tender.

But in addition I am, through and through, scrappy and a survivor. Life has had its way with me. I have become as independent as I am now out of necessity. And that is not a bad thing. However, those who care have made it clear that when they help me out, it brings them joy. And of course, it brings me joy as well.

Therefore, 2021 is going to be the year of the ask. It’s not going to be easy and I may need some occasional prodding but I am open to personal growth. And, potentially, a little help from my friends.

xo