The Collar Countdown has plunged to an all-time low of 39.
As mentioned previously, Tanja had questions for the Physical Therapist with whom she met this morning at 8:00. One of those questions, the first one actually, led to the PT walking Tanja across the street to the emergency room where, after a few tests and a few hours, it was determined that everything was actually fine and the swelling in her right foot was not a sign of thrombosis or infection but probably just a side effect of the healing process.
It was, on the one hand, just another example of the precarious position she finds herself in these days, where it seems like every system and reaction is suspect. On the other hand, there was a measure of encouragement: the medical professional who took control of the situation, noticed Tanja’s C-collar, asked to be brought up to speed on that whole situation and, having heard her history in full was visibly gobsmacked and flabbergasted by the walking, talking, gesticulating woman in front of her.
“You are doing amazingly well,” she said, “and my goal is to make sure you continue that way.”
So she ordered an ultrasound, though she suspected it would be clear. And she tested for infection, though she suspected there was none. And she was right in both cases. But she sent Tanja away with antibiotics just to make sure there were no demons lurking in the background.
So the big news tonight is that there is no bad news.
To be honest, my poetry crates are not deep, dominated by Frost, with a tiny bit of Larkin, Jarrell and Collins, plus one great poem by Wordsworth that is nearly memorized. But here’s a poem I’ve always loved, by Mr. Frost:
The Bearer Of Evil Tidings
The bearer of evil tidings, When he was halfway there, Remembered that evil tidings Were a dangerous thing to bear. So when he came to the parting Where one road led to the throne And one went off to the mountains And into the wild unknown, He took the one to the mountains. He ran through the Vale of Cashmere, He ran through the rhododendrons Till he came to the land of Pamir. And there in a precipice valley A girl of his age he met Took him home to her bower, Or he might be running yet. She taught him her tribe's religion: How ages and ages since A princess en route to China To marry a Persian prince Had been found with child; and her army Had come to a troubled halt. And though a god was the father And nobody else at fault, It had seemed discreet to remain there And neither go on nor back. So they stayed and declared a village There in the land of the Yak. And the child that came of the princess Established a royal line, And his mandates were given heed to Because he was born divine. And that was why there were people On one Himalayan shelf; And the bearer of evil tidings Decided to stay there himself. At least he had this in common With the race he chose to adopt: They had both of them had their reasons For stopping where they had stopped. As for evil tidings, Belshazzar's overthrow, Why hurry to tell Belshazzar What soon enough he would know?
Tanja power 