June 4: Buried, CP and Roof, Joshua Mehigan, "At Home"

They buried his son on Christmas Eve morning, 1967, out in Long Island, his marker a simple Celtic cross.  The burial was covered by the press, despite efforts to maintain privacy.  A lot of important people came, few whom Ives knew.  Zoom-lensed cameras captured the scene, and in an unfortunate gaffe, they published a picture of Celeste, Robert's former girlfriend, who had fallen apart and kept her distance from the family until the funeral, being held in Ives' arms, and identified her as his daughter.

Ives suffers the very worst loss any parent can imagine.  No mother or father ever wants to bury a child.  It's not the way things are supposed to happen.  Children are supposed to carry on the family name, preserve memories.  Children are not supposed to become memories.

I chose this paragraph because it reminds me that, no matter how bad I think my life is, I really don't have it so bad.  I need that reminder today.

This morning, I went to my doctor.  Working in a cardiology office, I frequently write and type the abbreviation "CP."  It means "chest pain."  Chest pain can be caused by a lot of things.  Congestive heart failure.  Acid reflux.  Heart attack.  Lung cancer.  COPD.  I see them all, every day.  Well, for the past six or seven days. I have been experiencing CP.  Initially, I though it was acid reflux because I have suffered from that in the past.  So, I cut back on my Diet Mountain Dew intake and tried to avoid spicy foods.  It didn't help.

So, I made an appointment to see a medical professional this morning.  Actually, I didn't have much of a choice.  As soon as I described my symptoms to the nurse on the phone, she said, "Ah, you need to come in right away."  Within forty-five minutes, I was sitting in an exam room.

After I spoke with the nurse practitioner, she ordered an EKG.  The EKG turned out fine.  Now I'm going to be scheduled for a stress test.  In the meantime, she gave me a prescription to treat acid reflux.  I'm hoping that does the trick.  I'm not quite reassured.  Yet.

That was the morning.  This afternoon, I found out that I somehow have to have the roof of my house replaced.  A contractor came to my home to give me an estimate on replacing the ceiling in my kitchen.  Said contractor will not touch the ceiling until the roof has been dealt with.  That means somehow getting a loan, which means going further into debt, which means another monthly payment, which means I need to sell one of my organs to try to raise funds.

I have not had a great day.  However, my wife and children are healthy and happy.  I have to keep reminding myself that things could be much worse.

So, the roofer is coming out tomorrow morning to give us an estimate.  The stress test will be sometime early next week.  If the medicine doesn't alleviate the chest pressure, I have to go back to the doctor so more tests can be run.

Saint Marty already hates the summer, and it hasn't even really begun.

At Home

by:  Joshua Mehigan

...very few are able to tell exactly what their houses cost... THOREAU

This is my lawn.  I planted it, I grew it,
and I work hard ensuring it's attractive.
I keep it clear of every type of pest.
I rake it and I mow it.  I see to it
that no stray dogs stray here.  It keeps me active.
God sends the sunshine, and I do the rest.

That is my fence, where I go to lean to eavesdrop.
Outside of my own thoughts, I hear the quiet
of many smaller creatures barely moving.
In the fall, sometimes I can hear the leaves drop.
My land is mine.  I have worked hard to buy it.
It's the one thing I can always be improving.

In it, I find it's easier to find
the natural boundary of my heart and mind.

I'm not convinced...yet...