So it's Sunday, and I'm watching news, mostly, for days, even though the news is always the same. They just keep covering the hell out of any thing that happens over there, as the news media tends to do, until you don't even feel it anymore, you just want to hear about it less. But this isn't my war entry, not yet. Those thoughts are still dripping down through the filter in my head, and won't come out until they're completely percolated.
Anyway, for those who have asked, my finger is fine, and not even black and blue anymore. This was all the most ridiculous tempest in a teapot. I bumped my finger, I needed ice. Case closed. Why the powers that be thought it had to be seen by a doctor is beyond me. Mostly, I was amused that I was injured in the line of librarian duty.
My student is in critical but stable condition. It appears that this means that she will somehow survive, for which I am thankful to any force that affects such things. How she will remain is another matter, but since she is still comatose (although I understand beginning to respond), no one yet knows. I know of someone else who was in a coma for a week (25 years ago) and whose kidneys failed, and then once she came out of the coma and is now quite fine, never had any kidney or related trouble in her life. I am told that meningitis survivors are sometimes left deaf, which is also not the end of the world. So we don't know yet, only that she is still with us.
And as long as I'm pondering the mysteries of the universe -- and who isn't -- why do bad things happen to good people? Not an original question, for sure, and maybe even the eternal one. I'd be more interested in this answer than I would be in the other eternal question "Why are we here?" We're here. That's it. Why do bad things happen to good people? I guess because they do.
My dear Old Friend, a person almost too good to be true with one of the suckiest lives ever, had to have her cat put to sleep yesterday. The cat was dying, of kidney failure, actually, and was in terrible pain, and she had to make the decision alone because she is alone, except for the cat. She does have good friends, thank God, and one of them went to the vet with her and then stayed with her all day. So she does have wonderful friends who are good to her. But she lives alone, in a tiny yet incredibly charming studio apartment in the West Village (Greenwich Village, NYC) and her only apartment-mate for years is -- you guessed it -- the cat. Those of you with pets are not now saying "Well it was just a cat" because you know that when you're alone with your cat (or dog or whatever) you're not really alone. But now she's really alone. I wonder how many of us are already thinking of dropping in on her within the next month or so with a new cat. Hmmm.
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I'm watching MSNBC
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Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
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