Errand day

July 15, 2025

No significant riding or walking will occur today, because we're in the throes of a heat wave that makes any outdoor exercise after about noon oppressive enough that the only sensible time for a ride is first thing in the morning; but that's out today because of a medical appointment over at Kaiser that involves both of us. And maybe I could squeeze a ride along the river or whatever into the midday after we're done but I've also got a second appointment in the early afternoon I don't want to be late for - my badly needed haircut.

So, an errand day and more or less a day off for both of us. Mine starts early when I rise about two, going nuts lying in bed trying to sleep longer because I can't tune out the sound of the A/C. So instead I sit down and get to work at bringing Cortisone Dreams to its tragic, untimely end. If we're listening closely and the wind is right we can still hear the screams of the survivors in the far distance when Rachael opens the bedroom door, and I pause to watch this svelte unclad figure silently and swiftly cross the length of the hall, round the corner and then briefly assume a jackknife pose as she bends over to check the thermostat and then disappears into the bathroom. It's a lovely, fleeting vision, and if I'd seen it coming I'd have gotten out the camera and saved an image that I'd never publish of course, but could go back and look at from time to time as a reminder.

In a different life story and upbringing, it's easy to imagine Rachael living the life of a dancer. As she was in a way, of course - she was an aerobics instructor when we first met.

There's just time for me to make it over to Ovation before returning to drive us across the river to our appointment, so once she's had her first cup and her mouth can move again we talk over the day's agenda. I set an alarm for myself and promise to return by eight, and then she verbally frisks me as I name off and load all the essentials for the morning. When I name and pocket the car keys she asks why and I say that it's so I can get the bike out of the back where I left it last night. At which point she observes that I'm practically touching Roddy, leaning against the wall right beside me - on my good side even.

Which reinforces the wisdom of our decision to stay in the country until I've transitioned off of cortisone. I really should get to the point that I can make it out the door with all the right stuff upon occasion before even considering trying to board an airplane.

A few minutes later I'm locking up outside of Ovation when I look up at the walls of glass to the south and see a waning Buck Moon rising between them. It makes me briefly regret not having brought the Canon with me because it's like smacking Rachael a good one when we part, you never know what could happen.

While I'm slaving away at the blog and enjoying my spinach-feta croissant two bits of news arrive. The first is the test results from my bone density scan:

We'll see what Dr. Greenberg thinks, but it looks like I passed.

I'm sure there will be a follow up test once I'm off prednisone, but for now this looks like good news. The thought that there's a one in seven chance of a significant fracture before I turn ninety doesn't scare me much, given all the other things there are to worry about.

The second bit of news is considerably less welcome when Rachael phones to inform me that our credit card has been hacked again. Again! I make fast work of the last of my coffee and am sitting down next to her looking over our BofA statement and the two charges, both denied, that were posted this morning a few minutes apart from each other. Each is for roughly $1,300, charged to Whirlpool VIP Link.

We don't have much time before our appointment, so we quickly rush through the burning questions of the moment: how did this happen, and what do we do to make sure the charges aren't held against us? We get the charges resolved correctly although it means the card has been cancelled of course. And on the drive to Kaiser we discuss the possibilities with the card.

It's pretty easy to think about, because recent activity is time-boxed because this is the same card I left behind at Lucky Lab just the day before yesterday. So unless this card's identity was stolen some time ago and lying around like a sleeper cell, there are really only two possibilities here. One is that maybe the card was compromised when I opened it at the bar at the Lucky Lab. Thinking about this, I make a note to never do that again since it's an easily avoidable risk.

The other possibility is that it was fallout from the two AirBnB bookings we made in the last two days - one for our month in Bellingham, and one for the two weeks in Portland when we stop off on our way south. Of the two, the open-tab scenario seems more likely, but who knows? For now it's just nice that it's happening here while there's still time to get a replacement before we leave.

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We do the Kaiser thing and drive home, and while Infill the two hour gap until it's time to leave for my haircut in the usual way Rachael heads off to Safeway to restock some of the essentials, mostly for me: another gallon of milk, two more pounds of raisins, another jar of Adams PB. And then I'm off for my haircut, stopping first at nearby Radio Cab to refuse the beast because it's nearly parched after those two drives down to Salem.

I'm pleased to find an on-street parking space on Salmon Street, roughly four blocks from the Barber-Q I've got an appointment at. And here let's digress a minute to talk about my knees and my health in general. First off, thanks to those of you who expressed concern about my ibuprofen regimen. Because of that I cut it in half and am now taking just 200 mg twice a day, as an experiment to see if that's sufficient. I've been doing that for three days now. So how is it going so far?

Remarkably, the knees seem to be doing steadily better with each passing day. I'm much steadier walking around and my balance is better. It's easier to walk almost normally in a straight line, it's easier to get from the coffee station to my table without spilling anything, and my quality of life keeps incrementally improving in small but significant steps.

The walk to Barber-Q is nearly all a gradual, modest downhill of maybe 1-2%. Not much, but definitely enough that my knees would have suffered from it even just a few days ago and required me to stop and recover once or twice along the way. Not today though. I take my time, but I really don't have much trouble walking it straight through.

And more surprisingly than that, I'm starting to take the stairs again. I walked the flight down to the lab at Kaiser this morning even though the elevator is right next to them; and I even elected to walk the three flights up to and back down from our storage unit yesterday.

So for me that's very exciting. If they had felt like this back in France I doubt if I would have felt like it was time for surgery yet. And more and more, I'm thinking that the primary problem was all a side-effect of my prednisone usage. I'm thinking one of these mornings I should bike over to Oaks Bottom and walk around the back side of the lake again. I don't think my favorite screech owl is at home in this season, but there are several names on recent checklists that I could hope to pick up.

I've been to this Barber-Q once before, the downtown one that faces Pioneer Square. I picked it originally for its convenience, but now I like it because I can make an appointment for a specific barber, and for the fact that I really like this barber: Quynh, a Vietnamese immigrant who grew up in the south near Saigon. A cheerful and garrulous woman, Quynh talks freely about her personal life as she clips away this wild mess I've brought in for her to tackle. I remind her that when I was here last she and her family were about to drive over to the coast for some crabbin'; and that sets her off to talking about her childhood, spent outdoors harvesting the land and the shore for their daily meal.

And Quynh did well, or at least as well as she could given the raw materials she was given to work with. For me it's kind of a relief - it's cooler in this heat, and I don't miss having my eyebrows curving down into my eyes. And one more thing - note that I'm still jowly but I'm starting to get back to my pre-prednisone profile. My face was much more swollen a week or two back, and my weight dropped eight pounds up in the past week.

There's still room for improvement, but we're getting there.

Rachael is still nursing her injured toe, but she gets some exercise in by walking over to LA Fitness and putting in an hour on the bike machine. I've got a bike ride in myself too, a mile ride west to Breakside Brewery for an experimental change of scene. And it's a successful experiment to a place I'll start adding to my rotation. It's got a safe place to lock the bike, it's got comfortable seating in an attractive setting, and it's got a brewpub menu that appeals to me.

I place my order at the bar: a bratwurst sandwich that reminds me of my days serving them up at the Last Exit on Brooklyn back in college, and a new NA beer I'm pleased to try out. And when they ask if I want to keep an open tab I just cash out on the spot, because I'm not doing that any more.

Electro-lime doesn't sound my my usual beer choice, but it's surprisingly refreshing on a hot day. If the background were in focus you'd see Roddy locked to the fence just the other side of the window.

I don't know what association brought Kweskin'a jug band back to mind after all this time, but it seems like the right choice for the day. What really surprised me though was to read up on Kweskin's band and see that Geoff and Maria Muldaur got their start here. Maybe I knew that once, but it's news to me now. I think Maria is the strawberry blonde and Geoff's the one on her left.

Today's ride: 3 miles (5 km)
Total: 143 miles (230 km)

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