Apartment cleaned...now what...?

Saturday late morning: a strange ennui has taken over my personality. Everything is solved, in place, next chemo session is Monday---tomorrow, follow football, but in spite of all that---can' t quite get excited about anything. I can read with pleasure and concentratrion---if I am outside the apartment. Luckily, one of the nearby hotels has indoor space which is usually pretty empty---this is where I have read Summer of 49 by David Halberstam, while sipping coffee.. Everything works, and my appreciation for baseball and for exciting pennant races---the book tells of a Yankee-Red Sox pennant race that went down to the last day---is fulfilled. Then I return to the apartment---yes, it is cleaned, and cleaned very well,-- and look at the six or so books spread out on my bed---all of which I have chosen myself---and don't want to commit my imagination to any of them.

Is it time for me to attempt to travel? How I would love to go to Brooklyn---to Williamsburg, (with Berry Street closed to traffic)  or to Cobra Club in Bushwick--or to see if the Center for Fiction finally is letting people read and have coffee (I suspect not) or further south--to Church Avenue and beyond---Cortelyou Road in Ditmas Park. But do i have the stamina to do it, under my current physical conditions? Everything starts for me so early---usually up around 5:30---that by lunch time or middle of the day, the body is tired. Should I try anyway? These streets near my apartment have become so familiar to me---even a trip to Columbus Avenue seems exotic. I stand on those streets and think of how great it would be to be in another part of the city---even in the high 140's near the library where I tutored. But then it all stops. Right now my body feels pretty 'non-risk" for want of a better description. The large Barnes and Noble bookstore some six blocks away, or the new Strand, on Columbus, may be the best I can do. We will see.

Yesterday evening, saw the first 30 minutes of The Best Years of Our Lives, a movie made in the late forties, about returning World War II vets. Very well put together; I should return to it soon, at some point. Tonight the scheduled Philharmonic broadcast has a Mozart Violin Concerto (I love those) and Brahms Symphony No 1---pure classics, but possibly just what I need. Will I commit...?

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TThanksgiving morning on the upper west side...

 the atmosphere dank and drizzly---as if the weather knew that the live parade would be canceled. Streets not empty by any means, but lacking the energy, the sometimes overwhelming energy that one gets when the parade is just four blocks east. 

Yesterday evening, a fitful sleep, probably the best sleep I have had in days. Nothing really on the mind, that's all. The plan for today---follow the two football games that I have made (small) bets on and then see what happens. More and more coming to terms with the fact that i won't be going out to Brooklyn today. I am pretty tired anyway--so under these given medical circumstances, it might be an impossibility anyway. Tomorrow is a "big" day for me. First, early in the morning the women who cleans my apartment is coming---of course that means that I have to do my own "cleaning" first--put everything in order and clean up the mess that sits on the side of the bed that I don't sleep on. I almost feel that I have to do as much work as she does. But she really makes the place look clean and warm, for as long as I can keep it that way.. Sometimes I come back from my time outside the house, enter the apartment, and almost feel like I have come to the wrong apartment; this one is clean and livable---a really nice vibe. Was thisms really the one I left?  Tomorrow afternoon, I am scheduled to "hang out" with a friend of my sister in law Kathy. I have met him once; he seems like a good conversationalist---we are both musical theater enthusiasts, so hopefully there will be much to talk about---good conversation that is not political or about the pandemic---something really needed at this point. 

That is all for now---will report soon.

wednesday evevning, continued....

 On those blocks the luxury high rises sit next to normal apartment buildings. Some look like they were built in the fifties, after the "el" came down, but next to them are tenements--remnants of the time the streets east of third avenue were considered a slum---a place for the working poor. (that wonderful opera, Street Scene by Weill, Hughes and Elmer Rice takes place on such a block), Those three and four story building seem like artifacts---little objects waiting to be destroyed so that more luxury housing can be built. But will it...?

It was a meaningful walk and my session with the nurse was a fruitful and happy one' nothing like I had imagined, I left, crossed the park by bus, and in the afternoon went to Best Buy and bought the charger taht would keep my computer alive for Thanksgiving.

Friday morning, the woman who cleans my apartment is coming---between now and then...what? Totally empty time---I should be happy that all my anxiety problems have disappeared--no anticipated worries and yet.....feel kind of empty.

Tomorrow---stay at home. For the last 30 (yes, thirty) years have celebrated Thanksgiving with my cousin Kayla, her husband Stan and family in Brooklyn.  With one exception, this will be the first thanksgiving when i will not be there. Strange---such a part of my life---almost feel that I will get on the 2 train and go to their apartment in Prospect Heights anyway, just out of  habit and inability to believe the party is not happening. Well, we will see--have to prepare for the apartment cleaning--that takes some work in itself. How will it all turn out---will report soon.

wednesday evening...here I am

have just completed two hectic days filled with anxiety and some up beat hope. 
The hope: my oncologist looked at my blood samples and told me that the growth had gotten smaller---a very good sign; also that my red blood cell count, which had been low since the summer, had gone up to a much healthier number. When I left the doctor's office on Monday, felt very lucky and that continued through the evening and early the next day.

The anxiety: after changing my ostomy bag, I noticed that the stoma, which it all revolves around, had a sort of bulbous extension at its bottom. I was stunned--no one training me or treating me had ever mentioned the possibility of an extension. What could it be? I called the office of the surgeon who is supervising my care, and explained it to then. I wanted a professional person to look at it---she  did not want me to come to the office---insisted I send her a picture through e mail. Of course, my flip phone does not do that---luckily I found a friend who could come over with her smart phone, take my stoma's picture and send it to the nurse. But if no one had been available.....The  nurse called me later and told me that the extension was not something to worry about---since I had an appointment with the nurse for Wednesday  morning (today) she insisted that i wait. This left me agitated---for some reason I still wanted someone to see it. So the rest of the day was harsh. 

Lots of other problems last evening---the computer's charger broke and when I woke up at 3 there was not water. Water returned soon, but.....got very little sleep after that, and finally it was time to get the Accesaride to the medical office across town. 

Got there very early so I decided to walk east of Lexington Avenue to "sightsee". An interesting walk east on 77th and then back on 75th. What did I see?

Sunday afternoon---waiting for the,,,

 games to begin. Since I have joined the betting web site---my Sunday afternoon ritual begins at 1:00 and continues to aboout 7. It is all about following the nfl games that I have bet on--in today's case, three, one beginning at 1:00 and the other two at 4:05. At 1:00. the Patriots must win by 3 points or over, for me to win my bet. In the second round of games, the Dolphins must win by 4, and the Chargers by 10 for me to cash. I am a pretty conservative better---I am trying to stay in "the game" for the long haul----this gives me a focus for Sunday afternoons---important for me. Well, my first game begins in about twenty minutes---we will see what happens.ms

Yesterday watched most of Act I of Dialogue of the Carmelites, an opera by Poulenc---a really strong and individual work at the Met Opera streams. The music is troubling, abrasive, changeable---the central character is a young noblewoman in a France that is going through its cut throat aftermath of its revolution. She joins the Carmelites--the first act is about her adjustment to the convent; also the harrowing death of the Mother Superior (brilliantly sung and acted by                      ) Yannick, the new music director of the Met conducted--I had heard the second act on the radio last spring---all the nuns are destoyed by the blood thirst of the revolution. The opera reminds me of Janacek's From the House of the Dead, another work of tremendous individuality, that the Met did a few years ago. Hard to watch the audiece experiences the depersonalization of the prisoners through the music---it does not have an inch of warmth. The two operas are a good challenge to an "opera lover" because they are so separate from the standard repertory. I will try to experience them again at some point.

The rest is the same--continuing reading---I splurged and bought the most recent copy of The New Yorker on Friday, hoping for some strong insight into the election results, but so far i have only read half of the article that discussed it. The magazine and about five other books lie on the other side of my bed---somehow it is hard to want to read in the apartment---much easier in a coffee shop (there is one open at a nearby hotel) or even on a bench in Riverside Park, when the weather is fairly mild. Speaking of which, yesterday I was stunned as I walked north on Amsterdam Avenue at the number of people doing outdoor dining in the ten or eleven restaurants on that avenue between 76th and 83rd street. Just about every restaurant table was filled---lots of young  couples at the tables, and simply walking in the area. I had no idea how popular these restaurants were. Of course, yesterday was an "exemplary" (warm) day so I suppose brunch at most of these places was an easy choice. Nevertheless these places were completely packed--I guess that is the way it is now.

That's it---on to the football games, will report soon.

Wednesday afternoon

Spending most of the day indoors. Pretty cold out there--can I stop monotony from stepping in?

What's new? Made my Medicare choice, yesterday---that was on my mind a lot---switching to a new policy under the same group. Finished the novel, Somewhere Off the Coast of Maine, by Ann Hood. A nice piece of writing-kept me interested all the way through. Not that  individual, stylistically, but not "pulpy" either. Looking back on it, I can see flaws and the character changes that the three women, who are the main characters in the novel,  go through, from their freshman college days (1967) to early middle age (1985) seem a little limited. Yet I was with them and their "journeys" (I know that word sounds kind of trite) all the way through the novel. Some part of me is still very interested in the world of "the sixties" and its aftermath. I think the writer could have explored that a little more thoroughly, nevertheless, I could feel her strength. 

What next? I have a bundle of short stories by my bed side, Louis Auchincloss and Kathleen Collins (the black writer whose movie, Losing Ground, I admire so much), but I have not felt terribly motivated to start any of them. Also, Summer of 49, David Halberstam's retelling of an amazing American League pennant race between the Boston Red Sox and the Yankees---somehow I feel more comfortable reading that outside the apartment (why? can't say), but once I do start reading, I can get very drawn in. The baseba;; season of 1949 was only two years away from the first Baseball season that I followed every day. Many of the players on both teams are familiar to me---their names and identities are part of the first line ups that I looked at.  Finally sitting on my bed is Marjorie Morningstar, the novel by Herman Wouk about a young Jewish girl from the Bronx, who falls in love with a great director-poseur and folows him around the world. I read most of the novel during my first stay in the hospital, somehow I simply have stopped about fifty pages from the end. Pick it up again and finish it? Possibly. 

Yesterday, for some reason, I felt a strong desire to read a play by George Bernard Shaw. Unfortunately I have no plays by him in my "library" and with the real libraries not really available to me,  I suppose it just has to wait. Do not want to buy a copy of say, Major Barbara, either at the second hand store near me or at one of the normal bookstores that I can walk to. An actor friend of mine texted me yesterday, offering me support during this period; I asked him to mail me a copy of a Shaw play that he might have (does not matter which)  and he promised to do so, if he could find one. So perhaps I will be reading one of his plays soon. Something about getting involved in his style and ideas is intriguing to me at this moment. 

So the day contiunes. Will make some phone calls tonight to friends, and I am meeting another friend for coffee tomorrow. Will report soon.

Finding comfort in reading....

 A dark day in the city---very little sunlight---perhaps the perfect day to remain inside----also I am fatigued today---wonder why..? The chemo---or else some residue from Wednesday evening---early Thursday morning when I got very little sleep. Yet yesterday afternoon and evening---with the conflict from the night before---taken care of, I slept like a baby. So what does this mean. Limbs and bones all seem tired. Still I am fighting sleep---lay in bed a little whlie ago---trying to "put things together"---luckily a got a call from Natalie, my live wire niece who lives in California. That kept me going for a while, Now here I am at the computer.

Back to reading---I have started and am now halfway through a novel called Somewhere Off the Coast of Maine. It was written in the late eighties, by a woman named Ann Hood. Three thirty something women and their families, all living in New England. Now comes the switch--the novel then tel  ls of them around 17 years earlier---that will be all or at least most of the rest of the novel. So far very interesting, believeable characters, nice sense of somewhat well off New England place. Looking forward to continuing it. Also would like to return to David Halberstam's baseball memoir, Summer of 49, about the very close pennant race between the Yankees and the Red Sox. Joe Dimmaggio is an important figure in this, so is his younger brother and expert center fielder Dom. Interesting that Dom remained in and around Boston after his playing days, raised  family, made money---seemed to live a very centered life--unlike Joe who I think was somewhat unmoored after his baseball days---seemed to wander around a great deal--of course, he had a much greater burden---the burden of fame---to carry. 

Looking forward to the weekend days---still will remain mostly in and around the apartment---hope for some more energy---on Sunday will make my online football bets---one game at 1:00 and two in the 4:00 group. Will follow them closely, so that should keep me busy. What else...? Not sure now, should get back to my reading, will report soon.

A Dark day...

as you can see if you look outside in NY, it is about 4:30. But for me, the darkness began earlier---after getting up and going out for coffee and a muffin---returned to sleep. Woke up feeling weak---body with less energy then usual. Was it the chemo? Slowly I have worked my way back, to a greater sense of energy, but this was strange, and it also arrived with a strong feeling of hunger. Even after having my "usual" morning meal---three slices of American cheese on a plain bagel, it did not take long for me to be overwhelmed by a feeling of hunger. Ran out and got a roast beef sandwich--that did it for a while, but still I needed a desert. Strange--some days my appetite is slow, others, especialy since the operation, the appetite just keeps going and going. For the afternoon, things are a bit more under control, after all, here I am, at the computer, writing away, that takes some energy---but I am still a little confused by the lack of energy this morning. 

Turned off--with so many options on the computer to watch, the idea of sitting here and watching a movie or something else puts me off. As I was walking to the grocery store, earlier, I longed to be able to actually go to a movie---not just for the movie itself, but for a chance to be in a different environment, to look at other people, to consider, why, in terms of age, sex, etc, they are at this movie. To get the whole picture. That what is lacking here. Yet so many choices exist----operas, complete baseball games from the past---interviews, documentaries of interest, etrc. Can I find one that will carry me through the evening. "Oh, endless night! cries Tamino in The Magic Flute---is that what I face...?

Have to get on with it. Will call my niece in California, the amazing Natalie. She is a live wire, talking to her will link up my energy with hers. A nice idea---what about the five books that are lying on my bed, all of which are of interest, but which I have not checked out yet. You see, cityboy, lots of choices, really, let's see what happens.

A week without writing.....why?

 Can't answer that question----this passage that i am moving through I guess does not stimulate me to write. What can I write anyway? It is either what is happening to me with the "disease" and its follow up or some long ago memories. Maybe just neither seems fitting at the time. But the Ostomy bags seem to be driving me crazy---I lose a lot of sleep working on them. Right now "itchy"---it is around six and I have just returned from the grocery store four blocks away where I got my American cheese sandwich---which, I must say, was incredibly fresh today

Yesterday, bought Summer of 49 by David Halberstam from the used bookstore that is a few blocks away,  A baseball memory book about that summer and the Yankee-Red Sox rivalry that dominated the American league at the time. My baseball infatuation began in 1951, but there are plenty of names of players on those two teams that are familiar to me, since they played into the fifties. There is something meaningful to me about going back in time---thinking about what the world of the two cities was like at that juncture. Similarly, Sherwin Nuland's memory book--a portrait of his relationship with his father and the home environment that he grew up in---allowed me to recreate in my mind the mostly Jewish  Bronx of the fifties---with its stickball games and neighborhood stores and a sense of non chaotic regularity about our existence. And sometimes I still haunt the google maps and look at some of the apartment buildings in those old Bronx Jewish neighborhood--I feel very moved---I want to go back there, but of course there truly is no "there" there---these are now working class black and Hispanic neighborhoods--with a very different set of standards and mores of their own. 

No real plans for today, continue reading---get my laundry taken care of---hope that the bag behaves itself. It is going to be a very pleasant and very warm for November day---tempting to spend a lot of time outside---but where...?  Tired, will also have to make up sleep that I lost a few hours ago. Trial by Jury, a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta will be on the radio later---should try to catch it---well, let's see how it all works out.......