Every New Year’s Eve my neighbors and I make a bonfire on my
front lawn. We each burn a page from the calendar that was our worst month. April
has been awful for a while – actually for the last 3 decades. Death of loved
ones, family crises, medical emergencies, relationship disconnects, car wrecks,
job stress. I debated writing this post over the last week lest I jinx a good
run. I waited until the very last day of the month. But since we’re nearing the
finish line, I’m happy to report that things are (mostly) okay.
I usually write my blog posts from a window seat on the
Alaska Airlines sunset flight from San Diego. A few days ago I was reflecting that
during this month I didn’t lose any keys, dent any rental cars or hurt any body
parts. However, late breaking update – I had a car accident at 3 pm today in
Seattle. I’m fine, the car is not, but at least I did some professional networking
with the other driver. You never know who could become a client.
I handled a medical escort today that showcased everything
wrong with healthcare. The elderly patient was confused by jargon. The nurse at
the retirement facility misplaced his paperwork, which no one could read anyway.
The medication list was wrong, impacting his upcoming aggressive surgery of questionable
value. And then I got sideswiped, which was the cherry on the top of a flawed
sundae (both cars were red).
However -- Dad just celebrated some milestones: 1 year
anniversary of broken ribs and 6 months since his stroke. He’s gaining back strength.
He’s become a charming character favored by his caregivers, who do an amazing
job (at a stunning price tag). I coordinated a national media interview
highlighting the work that I and other health advocates do, because it’s weird
and meaningful. No one I care about disappeared, cars can get repaired. I have great
friends, neighbors and pets. April flowers make me sneeze, April showers made
mold in my garage. It’s not important in the bigger picture. May all our Mays ahead
be marvelous.
