I know some of you have been following my progress to a kidney transplant.
After over seven years of hemodialysis, on Friday July 29 2016 I was forced to decide if I would go ahead.
I spent the day at St. Michael’s Hospital. Ready to go but there were risks and problems in the medical part, there were also problems on my personal side, but finally I went with my instincts and every instinct said “NO”.
So just before they were going to run an IV I said NO.
There was no medical issue with the donor kidney. The doubts were all on my side
Last Fall I survived my open heart surgery. I went into that feeling that it would be all right if I died. But now I can live comfortably enough with dialysis. The changes it has posed are familiar.
The transportation trouble posed post-transplant is the number of mandatory visits to downtown Toronto. My driving is a little suspect. My sister finds the idea fo driving to downtown Toronto more than daunting. My local team of drivers are allbusy and at least one of them was nearly impossible to reach by phone.
Finally my instincts ruled. NO was the answer..
I am on hold on the transplant list. I could reassess
iSir Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond, surprised me. His novel The Spy Who Loved Me is told not from the POV of James Bond but from the point of view of a young woman. And a Canadian woman at that. Bond does not appear for the first quarter of the story. He does arrive in the nick of time to save her but she is plucky, brave and clever. Before you award Fleming a posthumous badge of feminism be advised there are some horrendously misogynistic statements that made me cringe. The story was set in 1961 with President Kennedy in office. JFK helped Fleming immensely by telling the media that he was a fan of the books.Still a suspenseful story. This is a simple story, not a spy story. Really a story about a spy between spy jobs. I know there was a 007 movie with this title. I believe all they used was the title.
This story fired my interest so much that I stayed up till 3:30am to finish it.
Dialysis smooth this week, no word on kidney transplant.
I am reading mostly Kindle books but on my iPad. My Kindle device has some too tiny font-ed menus, too tiny for my bad eyes. It brilliantly permits me to increase book text. But I need to access the menus and that is not easy. I did recently invest in a good magnifying glass. I intended it for print books.
A 99 cent Kindle anthology of 12 James Bond novels by Ian Fleming
99 cent anthology of Raymond Chandler classic detective thrillers
Arturo Perez-ReverteThe Club Dumas
Collected Poems of C.P. Kavafi
subscription to New York Times, how I start my day
Played soccer with Grace, the soccer star, in the back yard. Took a photo of a sketch try, using fountain pen and watercolour crayon. I wonder could you tell your life story in coffee mugs. D’Youville College is where my sister took her master’s degree. I did not attend the University of Texas, but spent eight weeks in Texas in 1996 on a writing sabbatical after the death of my mother. I do own a mug for Georgian College (my teaching and training adults certificate program) and University of Toronto (my bachelor’s degree).
365 ptoject. I was silly and talked my sister into a mini shopping raid to Midland. Stopped to Midland Cultural Centre to view exhibit at Quest Gallery. Almost became a permanent display. I sat down in an extremely low couch. Had a heckuva time getting out. Renewed my Quest membership. Got a few things at the Walmart. Here I am taking a break at Walmart.
The cap I had made up. SMC stands for St. Michael’s College at the University of Toronto. 1977 is the year I graduated.