Donald Thompson  Walking the Sky, Threading the lee, Walking the Sky, Threading the lee, Walking the Sky, Threading the lee, Walking the Sky, Threading the lee, hoping to express some inside of me. Schrödinger’s Cat described it best, in telling the tale, you failed the test Riding Expresso Inventing the pitch wearing your soul without a stitch Serendipitous is where I sail having one minute to hit the nail Ignorance blest by life and love ride the light fill the moving void. Don was the first person at Goodman's to send me an email. We've shared conversation on the job between helping customers and stocking the shelves. Please enjoy the first installment of . . . . Lucky and Good by Donald Thompson © 2007 “Mr. Thompson, Have you gotten the point yet?” another fifty pushups, “What point was that Coach?” echoes in my skull when I’m under enough stress. That’s how I knew something was really wrong. I’d gone out back at work to sit and relax enough to see if I could determine why I just didn’t feel right. I lit a cigarette, elevated my feet on the picanic table, and just kicked back trying to relax and feel what was up. There was a new pain submerged within all the aches and pains of an active life. It was deep. Just inferior to the base of the sternum. The deepest thing I’d ever felt. Not very significant though, just there. Heart? Who knows? Can’t tell. Check arm. The left arm had been tingling off and on all morning, just above the elbow. The hand was numb, an old T1 injury. No pain though. Hmm. Can’t tell anything. Inventory, hands hurt, back hurts, several places. Neck only if I’m not careful. Facial pain, need more dental work, just need more money. Mostly subdued and successfully ignored. OK, only thing new is that deep ache. Sharp or dull? Dull. I’ve sat here ten minutes and I’m just plain tired at eleven in the morning. Shouldn’t be. Maybe something built up when I wasn’t paying attention. Time to go home, check my blood pressure just to get more info in case it’s the heart and maybe just take a nap. Something’s got me down. Time to go. On my way out I passed Cindy on her way in. I said “I’m leaving” as I approached her. She said “and why?” and we both turned as we passed to walk backwards and keep talking, intent on our movement. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good. Something’s wrong.” Just to be dramatic I threw in, “I just may end up at the emergency room with a heart attack for all I know.” Instincts kicking in. I gave a slow wave and was out the door. As I’m passing through San Rafael going North I thought, ‘you know? Last year I gave Dave hell for not being safe rather than sorry… Quarter mile to Terra Linda off ramp a pain appeared in my left arm above the elbow clear as could be. 100 feet to off ramp, ‘Yes! Safe rather than sorry.’ I pulled the phone out of my pocket and hit my wife’s number as I was on the overpass. “I just took the Frietas exit and on my way to Kaiser Emergency.” “Why?” “Maybe a heart attack.” “Oh God,” “Yeah, well, maybe she’s involved.” I quipped “I’m on my way” “OK” I walked into Emergency, up to the receptionist, handed her my Kaiser card and said, “I’m having chest and arm pains. I think we need to check it out.” “I think so.” I was whisked into the triage room and the guy said, “What’s going on?” “Chest pain here, dull and deep. Arm pain here,” as I stroked the base of the inner bicep above the elbow. “Nothing strong so I’m just not sure.” My level of awareness was way down. I’m just not sure what the guy did most immediately but soon I was walked into another room and onto a fancy bed/gurney and all these electrodes were being hooked up. I don’t remember getting out of my clothes and into a gown, maybe Gerry can fill in. Either my time sense was way off or Gerry made Einstein a liar, but she soon appeared with Liz her side from her dance troupe. Liz was part of an EMT crew and was at Gerry’s elbow explaining things as they happened. Someone slipped a pill under my tongue and said, “don’t swallow”. Nitroglycerin, relaxes the arteries and reduces the strain on the heart. Something blipped goofy on the scope and they readjusted all the electrodes trying to get a better contact through all the hair. I said, “Jesus people, the hair isn’t real important to me compared to this.” and they hurriedly scrapped off some hair with a razor and finally got a satisfactory contact. Something else blipped and they couldn’t quite figure out what happened and wiggled everything again and really started looking intently at the scope. Whatever it was, was subtle. Everything was quiet, then bam, everyone was in motion like a Chinese Fire Drill and I heard the brakes kicked off the gurney. I looked at Gerry, “Am I doing this?” “you certainly are!” both of us knowing I’m perfectly capable of stopping them dead and making them explain it to me before I went any further. I thought that we’d done this with just looks but Gerry says we actually said it. I don’t know. I’m not sure that she’s aware of what we can do nonverbally. Thank God she was there and I trusted my life to her and Liz was there feeding her minute detail. We were off down the hall with a whole entourage in tow and I’m thinking, ‘This is interesting’. Into a very large room with a big screen on the wall and a whole lot of expensive gadgets hanging from the ceiling over a large padded table. All right! High Tech! I was at home with that. I was effortlessly transferred to the table and a big rectangular machine was lowered over my chest. Fluoroscope, 30 frames per second, movies. Busy busy people. I felt some sensation below my waist and then nothing. They must have given me a local. I was still awake! What an extraordinary opportunity! This was neat. Fevered imagination fed with reality and Sci-Fi from an early age was having a good time. My annual allocation of Rads was certainly getting a workout from the big gadget but hell, they had to see what they were doing. Older brother Radcontech had explained that we’re constantly receiving and clearing rads and it wasn’t that big a deal. I’m flowing with everyone’s busyness and words. Sense people all around me, one in particular I can somehow feel bending over me, head close doing something intently. Some people would utterly freak at this but I’m in utter trustland. Hmm. Could be they gave me something for that. I can’t begin to tell of the many times my footprints have given another heart For me they were but the only way I could go from the start Longfellow’s sands are part of us integrated through and through a century and a half later his words still ring true my mantra has been as from a blunderbuss It kind of seems to rhyme ain’t nobody never been known for leaving buttprints on the sands of time © Don Thompson Donald Thompson © 2007 |