Mick McKellar Update--Day +32
The last rays of the afternoon sun are embracing the upper stories of tall buildings outside my window. I have put on a sweater and a lap-robe to counter the chill from my window -- the heater in our room will eventually compensate, but until then I find my own body unable to adjust as quickly as in the past.
The Bactrim project goes forward without any allergic reaction. I will take the same doses as today over the weekend and we finish the project late next week. The thought of facing that nebulizer again may have frightened the sulfa-drug allergy out of me...
The cough goes on...but with occasional breaks. An allergist and I had a nice conversation this morning, and he reminded me that they have this thing in Southern Minnesota that we don't in the Keweenaw in March...it's called Spring. This could contribute to the causes of the cough. So, we're moving forward with my current arsenal: Claritin, Flonase, an albuterol rescue inhaler, cough syrup with codeine, and benadryl at bed time. The cough sounds truly evil: A few passes and nurses come running to help. They didn't buy my explanation that I was simply trying to turn myself inside-out.
Avoiding puffery and taradiddle
I talked with my sister for nearly an hour this afternoon. I was double-checking my facts from my memories. She is 100% supportive of both my reports of my ridiculous behaviors and my desire for solitude. She then reminded me of my one and only successful personal act of revenge from those less than hale years of our golden childhood.
The myth of Mick's Revenge
My sister had her own bedroom and the four brothers bunked together. I am certain it seemed quite logical to my parents, but as the oldest sibling I felt slighted -- though I never broached the subject with my folks.
One summer evening, my sister came home walking her bicycle, because she had a flat on the back tire. My dad dutifully patched the inner tube and reassemble the rear tire. Because he was tired from work, I was given the job of pumping the tire back up to safe riding pressure, and the bike would be stored in her bedroom because she had the space. (In our room, you could stand by the door, or go to bed. )
I grumbled, but did as I as told, until an evil glimmer of an idea flashed in my left eye (don't ask how I know which eye). I pumped the tire up to riding pressure, but before capping the valve stem, I quickly pumped ten more times. Most of our bike tires were patched regularly then, and I knew it wouldn't hold, but be flat by morning.
What I had not planned on was explosive decompression. The patch blew at about 2:30 AM. It rang out like a gunshot and woke everyone in the house, especially my sister -- who was screaming. My dad finally told everyone get back to bed, because it was just a blown patch. The look he gave me, with those ice-blue eyes, said he knew. He never said anything or did anything, but he knew.
For years it was an inside joke told at picnics and family reunions, the little story about Mick's Revenge. Some years later, I confessed the crime, at which time everyone told me what a heel I had been and the story died away. Funny how a little confession changes things.
Instead of the mythical hero of Mick's Revenge, I was just Mick, guilty of a petty act of jealousy. My sister eventually forgave me (at least I think so).
I learned to stay within the truth of the moment, and avoid enhancing facts or actions, for the notoriety of the inflated fact is empty and the power and poignancy of the truth is robust enough for anyone. I also learned not to seek profundity -- in speech or writing.
If you seek to speak with profundity,
You speech will have great rotundity,
And grow replete with stinkiosity...
Thank you for all the kind words about my reports. It seems that, as I journey forward, I journey back and I am tying the ends of my life together. Perhaps this is a common event in the lives of those like me, facing an ongoing challenge, to finally have time to review a life, lived.
Thanks for the e-mails, cards, and messages. Your prayers and good thoughts are healing and comforting.
God bless you all, and good night.
Mick