Went to the Y with the intention of doing my newest exercises from my most current physical therapy. I have a binder with pictures of the exercises, these being the ones that I am supposed to do every other day, the ones with weights. I looked for the binder in my tote bag, and, not finding it there, imagined that I had left it in the minivan, on the passenger seat. I could remember seeing it there on Saturday. Alas, I got to the car and it wasn’t there. Not wanting to look further, I went without it. I remembered probably most of the exercises anyway.
Did the Y this morning, hot tub and sauna. Long talk in the sauna with the hospice woman and the banker woman–about Thomas. Stayed in the sauna too long–got really warm-that’s probably why I am still wet.
Saddam is on trial. My batteries are low. It is Wednesday and I am at Bread and Chocolate with some day-old muffins. I am trying to type faster, though that probably makes no difference.
Roids. Not the baseball or football pro variety, but the built-in, butt sort has been a preoccupation of mine of late. I think that they are getting better. On the box, it says if no improvement in seven days, see a doctor.
Hoppin’ place. Wednesday. I got three day-old cream cheese bran muffins. Y: leg press, back press, roman chair, swam a couple of laps. Hot tub, sauna.
Vacation. Used to be able to work it (and other holidays like MLK Day, President’s Day, Veteran’s Day), but, this, year, finally, I have to take the vacation on the day, and can’t defer it to another day.
Grandview Grill. Norm Coleman is sitting two booths away. Can’t hear what he’s talking about to the guy he’s with. Have the thought to tell about going to the Wellstone’s grave after Thomas died, how powerful that was, and how I know people that live in a house where a former St. Paul used to live–but that’s all I know, can’t remember, don’t care about the name. Or, point to the front page article in the New York Times about the US’s substandard plan to deal with an “eventual” influenza pandemic, and comment that things are always to get harder, more difficult, not less. (That’s my “Other Side” believe: in life, you keep getting confronted by the things most difficult for you, like a computer-test, the NCLAC or the GRE.) Ah, I can hear what the guy is talking about. He is saying that there are enough stem cell lines; no more are needed from embryos, something about some people not having any morals, Shit.
This is the letter mailed to Thomas’ family on September 27, 2005. Thomas’ gift of organ donation gave new life to FIVE people:
“Please accept my heartfelt sympathy on the death of your brother, Thomas. Families such as yours who remain thoughtful of others in the midst of grief give other people a second chance at life.
On behalf of LifeSource and those individuals waiting for transplants, I extend my deepest gratitude. Your brother’s donation celebrates Life: Thomas’s life and the lives of those he has given a second chance. Thank you for honoring his unselfish desire to give life to others.
I hope the following information comforts you as you learn something about those individuals who benefited from your brother’s donation.
Dunn Brothers on the west end of the Lake Street Bridge. I rode my bike to downtown Minneapolis and watched the beginning of the marathon from the corner of Portland and 6th. I put the video on my camera. I think that I did, anyway, though when I tried recording later, I found that the camera’s memory was full. So I don’t know.