MIA

Last weekend - actually, last Monday - was my 56th birthday. I celebrated as I usually do. I invited friends over for a nice meal and I didn't do my blog.

Sarah, pictured here sleeping in the warm spot on the couch created and just vacated by my sister, was the oldest (in dog years), quietest guest at my birthday party.

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It's been a busy week. As of Monday the 23rd, I have a new boss. He comes across as quite accomplished. He has a nice sense of humour but he doesn't fool around. Every one of the many, many briefings we have all had to do to get him up to speed were all "Just the facts. What do I need to know? Is there anything that has to happen now?" 

After the last boss (who was a bit wound up) and the interim, substitute boss (who was very relaxed) the new guy presents a completely different mix of calm and stern. It's keeping us on our toes.

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On Friday the 19th, I visited my family doctor for my annual check up. I told her about the funny things that were going on in my right eye that had started just the day before. She didn't seem too concerned but, because I asked, she said she'd make arrangements for me to see an opthamologist.  

I had just returned to work after my doctor's appointment when a giant (at least it seemed giant) black gash appeared in my vision in my right eye. 

I Googled the symptom immediately, read the words "detached retina" on the screen and got on the phone to my doctor to see if that opthamologist appointment couldn't be moved up.

The clinic's phone was set to voicemail. No one was answering.

I googled "eye clinic Toronto." Google told me St. Michael's hospital had an eye clinic with a reassuringly long list of doctors with competent-sounding names. I called the clinic and explained my dilemma. The nice person on the other end of the line advised that I either physically go to my clinic or walk into emergency at St. Mike's.

I chose the latter.

In the space of just under three hours, I was admitted - asked if I was taking any prescription medication during five different intake interviews with five different people - and given an eye examination that I just have to tell you about.

At St. Mike's, when they really want to know what's going on in your eye, they drop some local anesthetic on your eyeball, lay you back flat on a high tech chair and then dig around your eye with a gizmo that I think I can accurately describe as an ice cream scoop attached to a flashlight.

This was an unpleasant experience. But, because my only right eye was at stake, I tried hard not to move, tried even harder not to yell and, during the last few seconds of the test, tried hard not to bite the nice young doctor who was really only trying to help.

So, the good news is that my retina did not detach that day, but I am at some risk that it may still. So I get to go back in a few weeks, won't have to go through emergency to get there, but I imagine I'll still have to answer the question "are you taking any prescription medication" a few more times.

Fun fact: just about everyone who's intake interview I overheard while I was hanging around in emergency started their long lists of prescription medications with "Lipitor."

Thanks for reading! Have a great week!

Karen  

Small Accomplishments

The agave flower spike in the Allan Gardens no longer draws crowds, but it's still busy. I have speculated in this blog about the fate of the blossoms fallen from the stalk, thinking (and said thinking based on a cursory review of the very reliable Internet) they were the clones of the mother plant. I still don't know anything about agaves, but I'm prepared to say my earlier speculation wasn't right. Take a look at what the spike is up to now. There are bulbils growing where the flowers were once. 

This is Chester. In theory he belongs to our neighbours Grant and Bob. In fact, we all belong to him. Chester - or Pester as we call him - has enlisted the entire condo complex in his bid to become the world's most patted cat. He's 90% of the way to target. 

This is a sign along the TransCanada trail, close to the Kinsol Trestle.

I wonder why they thought they needed a "no trespassing" sign.

Finally, this is what the property immediately south of ours looked like last week. I ratted them out to the Municipal Licensing and Standards inspector.

This is what it looks like now.

Thanks for reading! Have a great week!

Karen

Further Signs of Aging

This week I attended the 50th birthday party of a well-known, hard-working advocate for many causes including the environment, social justice and women's rights.

You can imagine that there were quite a lot of other people there with me.

And I knew a lot of these folks from my previous life in the non-government sector and work as an environmental lawyer. Some of them, it has been so long, while I knew their faces, I had no access whatsoever to a name or what had been the circumstances of our acquaintance.

So I smiled at everyone, chatted up the ones whose names I did recall and remarked secretly to myself about how old everyone looked.

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A young woman stopped me on Bay Street on Tuesday morning as I was on my way to work. She looked to be in her late teens early twenties and wore a large back pack. As she tentatively began her request, my brain restlessly presented possible options of what she might want: directions to the bus station, the time ... maybe loose change. 

She handed me her iphone.

"Would you take my picture?" And then she told me how she wanted the picture taken. She wanted to pose a distance from the camera, with the buildings along Bay Street looming large in the background. 

"I'll look sad," she said, "to show I'm sorry to be leaving."

So I did as directed, and took a few extra shots of her walking away. I told what I'd done as I handed her back her $400 cell phone. She said thanks.

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A friend recently on vacation saw the scene in the photo below and thought of me right away.

Thanks for reading! Have a great week!

Karen