It’s amazing how productive a day can be when one gets up early. It’s only 10am and I have already showered, been to an appointment, eaten breakfast, and spent an hour at the beach.
If I didn’t have to arrive for an appointment at 7 this morning I might still be in bed. And now…I sit on a bench on the boardwalk, with a friend on the phone, writing together in silence. Bliss.
It’s a perfect beach day – blue sky without a hint of cloud. The tide is going out. My chair awaits my return to the waterline.
Alas! The invasion has begun. It’s hard to keep the ocean a secret.
People are pulling up by the car-load, dropping off bodies and blankets and umbrellas and coolers, before driving off in search of parking spaces. BENNYs, we locals call them. They are loud, oblivious to anyone else around them as they spread out.
I might not last here too much longer. . . unless I decide to brave the ocean. It’s getting pretty hot, and crowded, and I have no more water.
The ocean is pretty calm, but the occasional decent-sized waves are a little intimidating for me. My balance isn’t that great anymore. Getting in and out, navigating the waves and sand drop-off, can be tricky.
Being overweight doesn’t help. Although it’s great for buoyancy…it makes climbing back up the aforementioned drop-off and getting back onto dry sand, gracefully…well, let’s just say “grace” would not be an apt description… a definite challenge.
Once I fell on my way out and attracted the attention of a life guard – who came running – as it took several clumsy attempts to get back on my feet while the waves bounced me around. I managed to get upright just as she arrived. She asked if I was okay and I responded that I was, physically anyway.
Did I mention that I’m out of water? I finished drinking the bottle I brought with me at the hospital earlier this morning…before a pelvic ultrasound. That was the 7am appointment.
I thought I would refill said bottle at the water fountain on the boardwalk; however, said water fountain no longer exists. The only evidence that it was ever there is a metal plate. After writing, I will see if the refreshment window is open and I can purchase a bottle. Otherwise, I guess it’s time to head home. Got to stay hydrated!
Speaking of the ultrasound…UGH…Aging gracefully – there’s that word again. I had to drink 32 ounces of water 30 minutes before my appointment, which I did. I even considered not emptying my bladder upon waking, to ensure it was full at the appointment…but…as one who battles at times with urgency incontinence, I decided against it.
So…after drinking 32+ ounces of water, I climbed on the exam table, and…my bladder was not full. So…I was led back to the waiting room to drink more water.
True to her word, the radiology tech returned in the 20 minutes she’d promised, and, thankfully, I was ready to go – literally. As she pressed on my lower abdomen I prayed my bladder would hold. Phew! It did!
Next, I empty my bladder and remove my bathing suit bottom, because, WHOOPEE!!! It’s time for the internal portion of the exam.
I get to insert the probe myself. I am grateful for small favors, including the fact that the tech is a woman. I think about the indignity of this whole, painful process, but I can’t wallow for long in self-pity because, today, of all days, I have begun reading Victor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning”.
The indignity I CHOOSE to suffer in these moments, for the good of my health, pales in comparison to what he and others endured. The depravities and horrors to which humanity can sink go far beyond anything I could imagine. And I have absolutely no desire to imagine.
The distance between the glory of this beautiful day and the horrors of Auschwitz go way beyond the vastness of East to West, Heaven to Hell.
Father, forgive them.
Bring peace to tortured and torturer alike.
Keep me from ever having to find out just how low I can go.
And thank you for the sunshine and the ocean.
Amen
Be kinder than necessary 