Passersby would have thought I was a homeless person this morning as I waddled down the street to the car with 2 big kitchen bags, followed by 2 large boxes - all of it going to a new home - the thrift store. The two bags were filled with freshly cleaned and pressed shirts and slacks; the boxes full of household items and chachkas the likes of which never seem to end. Always following me home, for some reason.
I once collected things from various holiday trips, restaurants, night clubs, and other places visited. When the previous life ended and things were divided, I knew I’d never have the room to display, or desire to see them again. So, my half was “chosen” (I had no voice in the matter), stuffed into boxes and added to the pile of belongings awaiting the movers.
They went into storage and were forgotten until I moved to this apartment. When discovered, I didn’t bother to give them a look. Out to the trash they went. I collect nothing but memories anymore.
When I dropped everything off at the thrift store you’d have thought I brought in a king’s ransom. They were in desperate need of adult clothing, for some reason. Someone had dropped off 5 huge sacks of baby and toddler things, but the racks of items for adults were practically bare. The fact that most of the things I brought in had already been ironed stood me in good stead, too. All they had to do in most cases was unfold and hang them up. I am such a good boy!!! Now, if anyone fitting my size, pretty average, needs clothing, they’re in luck.
I checked out their costume jewelry counter in search of a large pin that could work as a kilt pin until I can afford to purchase a real one. It seems mine went along with the EX when he took the dress kilt and Sporran. I found a nice one, but it was too small and weighed almost nothing. It wouldn’t do. In case you don't know, the kilt pin is usually of some weight, attached to the lower right side of the front panel of the kilt which helps to keep the panel in place in a mild breeze. There are other reasons, too, but that was my primary reason for wearing one. Yes, Modesty.
I made a stop to drop off some canned goods for the food pantry before heading to the Center appointment for the Neupogen shots. Yes, the CBC is that low, although you wouldn’t know it to look at me. The Lab was concerned that I wasn’t wearing the mask, nore was I short of breath, dizzy, or nauseus. I am none of those.
The strange thing is that my body seems to be adjusting to the lower CBC. I don’t know what that might mean, but it can’t be good, since no warning signs appear until the near critical point. Not good. Three days of injections will boost the white blood cell count, which was likely decimated by the 7 days of Chemo. It is what it is.
Fortunately, I was able to park close to the apartment building this afternoon, so no long walks from parking spaces half a block away. Makes life easier.
Just a side note here. Where ever I went today, everyone was still talking about Robin Williams’ death. I mean - every where! I’ve never seen anything like this. The man touched many, many people in a lot of very personal ways. What a legacy.
And so it goes.