Friday, March 21, 2003

Well, this is an interesting morning. Mostly good.

My mother's bypass surgery went well yesterday. The procedure is known as a Coronary Artery Bypass Graft, or CABG; I've always thought that was an inelegant name, but that has no bearing on the process itself. I was surprised to learn that the person doing the surgery could not (or would not) say how many bypasses would be done, but would rather make that decision once the surgery had started. Not that it matters, of course; one or fifty, the goal is the same. I got to see my mother immediately the surgery was over; she was mostly out, but did respond when my partner came to see her, about three hours later. I am very pleased.

Its a foggy day here. Coming across the bridge, I couldn't see into the water, or the small mountain that rises majestically (well, what passes for majestically around here) off to the north. I'm always a little bit fascinated to see the 'tunnel' that the moving traffic makes in the shroud of fog over the bridge. I'm sure there are people who can speak competently and at length about that tunnel; I think it's just a nifty visual effect. I had my Bering Strait CD blasting as I drove; I don't normally play music that loud, but I really like this CD, and it puts me in a good mood -- bouncing around in my seat, just like the goofs you see on TV who are listening to Eminem or whomever.

About the only downer today, in fact, is that I haven't gotten any email lately from a friend out in California. We're not close friends, but we keep in touch. Unfortunately, it's frequently a one-way correspondence. She's told me repeatedly that she is much better at responding than initiating. That's certainly true. Even responses are not as frequent as I'd like, though. Sometimes, a week or more will go by. As a result, I sometimes wonder if I’m just a B-list friend -- or even if my messages are sometimes being eaten by an Outlook agent upon receipt, disappearing into the void. Pop! Then a response comes, and I tell myself that I’m simply expecting too much from someone who spends her life on the run. Could be. Usually, the pleasure of her company is worth it. Sometimes, though....

But overall, its a good day. Glad to be here.

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