Woke lighter, like the range of movement had widened. Perhaps it’s the hormones releasing their grip on me. And the full night’s sleep. The rain burying the heat.

One last birthday feat: Updates are now automated.

Andrew asked recently how it is that people think they can choose art for other people. The answer is, you give them what you make yourself.

Off to gma’s today, by car, for the drive, which is long, but shorter and less expensive than the ferry. I needed to be back, is why. But also, it’s been awhile since I drove alone with the radio turned loud.

She’s got a private room now, which makes everyone feel more comfortable. Also, the symptoms have largely disappeared and now she does not feel like a woman with a terminal illness. She’s hopeful and it improves her functioning. She’s eating more. She’s talking about getting up for a walk. She’s talking about getting out of there.

But I’m skeptical. I think this might be the body’s acquiesence after a long fight. And so, I feel compelled to visit more often.

I’m so glad to see her feeling better though. I hope that lasts.

The podiatrist came to see her while I was there. Medicare pays for a podiatry visit every 61 days. So gma was having her nails clipped and feet rubbed. I learned about the fungus living under our nails, which if it gets out of control, like gma’s, is basically untreatable. (You don’t want that to happen.)

Gma told the podiatrist about the time I went to see the doctor about the tendinitis in my foot and the doctor told me he would cut off my foot and order another one, but the last time he did that, he ordered right and got a left, so he doesn’t do that anymore. I didn’t remember the visit.

I saw an old man in a wheelchair who lacked the strength to support his diminutive body and who could barely speak. But I could clearly see how he looked in youth, and most of the time, that is not possible with these folks.

For the most part, it’s a gruesome scene. As much as they try to pretty it up with cleanliness and decoration, these places house the decaying. I try to force acceptance of this nearly universal condition. But it doesn't work. I'm just not used to seeing people like this. And I don’t know why I continue to do it, but I bring my lunch and eat there. Sometimes it’s not easy to get it all down.

Back in Seattle I faxed off a lodging form to reserve a space at the Napavine high school at the halfway point of the STP. Another crazy thing. I keep resisting actually committing to the event. But here I am, preparing anyway.