Methodist Episcopal

Last Sunday I went to church. I've been to church about 3 times since the stroke. Last time I realized that they're still praying for me every Sunday, so I asked them to remove me from the list. But another parishioner suggested that we should do a prayer of thanksgiving for my recovery, so we did that on Sunday.

I'm relieved I'm off the list so that I won't hog all the prayers. And yet,
I think I'm only about half-way recovered. Is there a prayer continuum for someone like myself? Sort of a prayer backup plan?

Let me out, let me out!

I really miss reading aloud to my kids. A lot.

I do try to read for L, since she's not too picky. But her older brother is too impatient to listen to my halting diction.

But sometimes, even L starts to be impatient with my aphasia. Last week she wanted me to read The Three Little Pigs, but it's hard to be convincing when the evil wolf sounds like this:

me:"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me out!"
L:"...you mean, Let me in."
me:"Or I will puff and I will puff and and I will puff!"
L: "...you mean, Or I will huff and I will puff or I will blow your house down!"
me:"And then I will eat you!"
L:"...you mean, I will eat you up!"

Of course, L has her own speech issues, but that's another story...

Summer reading

I've been reading a good book. It's a slightly trashy read, but very suspenseful. But the only problem is, I can't say it. I mean, I really can't say it.

I can write it: The Da Vinci Code.

The first two words are apparently too close phonetically, because I can say 'the,' or 'Da,'but not 'The Da'. When I try, it sounds like 'The (--a pause--) Vinci Code' (then a expletive when I've failed to say it, again.)

Self knowledge

This morning I was combing my hair, and I realized: I've been combing it on the wrong side for five months.

Of course, for a while I didn't have hair on the left side, just a big scar with peach fuzz. Still, I can't believe that I took so long to figure it out.

Five months

I went to the basement and put the laundry in to the dryer for the first time in five months. I don't know if I should rejoice--or not.

My sisters

My sisters are very good to me.

My sister Deborah was visiting over the weekend, and cooked me (and the crew) a delicious steak. This last semester she cooked several meals for me, actually, in between jetting to Haiti, Jamaica, etc for research and her home base in NC. And she always remembers to make hollandaise sauce for me.

My sister Cindy has been fantastic, too, in the whole ordeal. Some of the things she has helped me during the last five months: arranging a haircut (several, actually); flossing my teeth in the hospital (I tried to not bite!); hiring great helpers; playing "20 questions" when I couldn't find the words; the list goes on...