Spent over an hour on the phone with Patrick, who is currently living with Reg and Henry in Key West. Times are tough down there now. Henry is overly concerned about the corona virus -- paranoia is not uncommon in patients with a TBI* -- and it's made him a thorn in the side of his coworkers at the library. His boss sent him home. Henry told me it's because he's at special risk for the virus (he's not), but in reality it's because during these days when everyone is on edge, Henry is simply too disruptive an influence at work.
Patrick wanted to bring me up to date about this. Having come to this situation through Henry, I was able to give him some context about Henry's behavior before the accident. Patrick has been Reg's friend since high school, so he was able to give me some insights I didn't have before.
Then we started talking about ourselves. One another. Away from/apart from Henry and Reg. How we felt about the virus. How our lives are going. Patrick is a year older than I am, so we talked about how scared we about our retirements as a result of the hit the economy is taking.
It was nice to share this way.
The good that came from Henry's accident is that Patrick and I are now friends. A girl can't have too many friends!
When I hung up the phone, I was happier than I'd been all day.
*He can't help this. He is still recovering from a traumatic brain injury. If you read the section on "Behavioral Impairments," you'll get an overview of my Henry.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
It's nice to have a different perspective from Patrick.
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