june gloom

there's a weather system that floats perennially through most of southern california. for one month, a moody moniker is assigned to the golden state, its consistency rivaling the iconic song" it never rains in southern california"...for it rarely does. but every june we are subjected to a depressive force of nature. murky, overcast clouds, blackening skies, and a persistent flirtation that dewy droplets might fall from the sky. but they never do...

the moniker: "june gloom".

as k. and i road tripped home from our first vaca. in 2 and a half years; out the window i gazed at the stark beauty of the desert topography. i was struck by the elegance of the unadorned landscape; mounds of scorching sand, succulents teeming with desert blossoms and the cloudless, steel blue sky; overseeing, up on high, it's country charge, like a babe in arms.

and barely a building in sight...

and like the magnetic pull of the ocean's forceful undertow, sucking you deep into an unwanted place, we were suddenly back in town.

["the boys are back in town"]

unlike the singular lightning bolt one rarely sees, ("did you see that?"), we did feel the rolling thunder moving closer and closer; and heard the ominous vibrations as those visceral notes waft closer and closer; preparing to strum our hearts back into the dulling musak of reality...

the friday after we got home, i drove myself to cedars-sinai. i was admittedly thrilled by this teeny, tiny infusion of independence. perhaps a minimal endeavor; but a massive thrill, nonetheless. my bleary eyes focused intently on the roads, while my hands clutched the wheel as tightly as a member of the blue rinse crowd with bi-focals...confidentially, i do feel slight remorse over my under-the-speed-limit trek to the hospital. but my neighbors' 6 cylinder aggressiveness along the long and winding, cemented, so-cal pathways is equally annoying. and putting pedal to the metal is so not on my agenda right now.

["your impatience is not worth my life..." (thank you, j.)]

i pulled in to the parking lot, under an unusually somber sky. clinic sped by with the whoosh of a desert windstorm and ended with the glassy calm of a lake at sunset...

also on my checklist...the pain center.

and so i wound through the forest of towering, imposing structures which i both loathe and respect. constant reminders that i am not quite the same as everybody else...and yes, on occasion, i would love to chop them all down...(i would say "bomb", but i don't need to get red flagged anymore after my brush with 51/50)...

the meeting was easy, respectful and productive...like learning the backstroke and then slicing through calm, soothing waters of understanding...

[and then...ah. what a difference a week makes...]

6 days later; dinner was designed for our magical friend "m", and as spontaneously as a summer storm can explode in the sky, we took my blood pressure. it was meant to be an aside; a footnote to the evening's discussion about our health. dare i say, a

celebration of my new found good fortune...

163/112...terrible...

in my mind, i ran for cover; hiding underneath a cement bridge with a conveniently carved out cave....away from the unremitting rain sure to wash me away...away from the frigid snowflakes paralyzing every thought i entertain...and finally, away from the arctic, deep freeze temporarily shutting down all freeways out of town...

and so under this bridge, i figuratively huddled, as my husband masterfully determined from the on-call, hospital staff, that i needed to come in tomorrow morning.

["urgent...so urgent..."]

and so we determined that this misstep; this unexpected blip upon my morphing blue screen of health needed to be addressed. like the rising waters of a spring river overwhelming its banks, there are never enough sandbags to stop the tortuous flow of the unwanted...

["kevin, i CAN'T lose this kidney..."]

like a tumbleweed rolling down a sandy, california hillside; collecting every man-made detritus imaginable, and the odd twig or two...the familiar snowball effect instigates both fear and questions...

dr. k met me. under florescent lighting that blinds, familiar instruments that find, and a small room where my doctor's probing exam was kind...

ok. there are 3 potential variables:

"you could be rejecting, and we would have to admit you..."

"your immunosuppressives could be raising your blood pressure..."

"or the renal artery that connects your transplanted kidney could be occluded ( a fancy, md term for the obstruction and/or closure of an artery...) and we would have to do an angioplasty (a balloon-like catheter inserted to widen the blocked artery...]

and with this information, i wait until dr. k leaves the cubicle cum room at the transplant clinic. only then, do i turn and bury my face into my armpit and commence with the "ugly cry"...it's impossible to hear the "r" word (rejection) without visually sending yourself back in time; through renal failure and the hell of dialysis. a hurricane of compromised health destroying everything in its path...

so what do i call this place in which we now reside? the place where everyone believes us to be well and thriving like newly planted tulip bulbs? poking our heads above the soil, peacocking our glorious shades of color, and spreading our thick, new roots underneath the rich and nourishing soil.

tulips only last a month...

so not a "hamlet-ian cloud"; but rather a "hen"let-ian" cloud pervades the air...

sure, that's a bit of a stretch, but what hasn't been, over the last 30 years? i have always reached far and wide with fluttering fingers that promise warmth, comfort and the divine...

so if one month out of the year lapses into testy tempers and waning weather, i can handle that...

[i am still here]

tuesday, i go to clinic again; get blood drawn, have a renal ultrasound, and see dr. dauer for the first time in months..and then we wait...

we wait under the glorious, albeit, cloudy, californian skies...

"june gloom" sounds and is, altogether depressing, but unlike my medical marathon, i know it will be over soon...

if only i could say the same about "the kid"...