Untoward Cat-Related Event #7814

While practicing the flute (this being late in June of this year), I decided to try to toss the cats’ more luridly colored tunnel (the “Mewnicorn,” which they love) into the closet, where I put all their toys each evening, instead of waiting until the official portion of the evening program that pertains to this, which involves a flashlight and knee pads. Of course they heard the sound of this prized item being handled, possibly even mishandled, and rushed into the living room. While I was trying to kick the tunnel into the closet, my foot got stuck in it. Somewhere along in there, while shrieking obscenities, trying to kick the tunnel off my foot, and flailing around with my left hand, wherein was my flute, I bumped the little sharp edge of the mouthpiece that one is supposed to carefully protect, or else perhaps it happened when I used the flute to deny Marvin entry to the closet.

Also, my music stand fell and scraped and bruised my face, though if I was practicing, my music stand would still have been in the living room rather than in the closet, so maybe this was two different incidents. As the music stand fell, I remember thinking, “My eye!” and feeling very grateful afterward for the bone that surrounds the eye.

I ended up deciding that I had better try to make the spring deadline for board certification, after all, and in a frenzied burst of energy, finished everything up and sent it in not a few weeks before the deadline, but by the deadline. In mid-July, I met with a new committee and I passed! After they gave me the good news, they asked if I had any questions. I asked if they would mind if I did one screen shot of their smiling faces. It’s a really nice thing to have: a photograph of a very joyful moment indeed. Two of the committee members (there were four) said that they would want me to be their chaplain if they needed one, and they said they could feel my calm presence from their respective locations. They also offered some thoughts on where I could seek to improve. They could have just failed me on those particular competencies, meaning I’d have had to make a third committee appearance. I really appreciate that they did not do that.

In August of this year, it was wonderful to hear a Wait Wait … Don’t Tell Me program that was taped in front of a live audience for the first time in about a year and a half. One of the guests was a hydroponic lettuce farmer, who spoke about how fun his work is. Trying not to sound condescending, Peter Sagal asked what’s so fun about growing lettuce. The farmer said something like, “What I like about lettuce is it doesn’t talk back when you’re trying to do your thing.” That’s what I like about lettuce!

Both of my jobs offer a limited number of free counseling sessions each year. I decided to avail myself of this benefit, and began seeing a therapist in September of this year. At our first or second session, Dr. T. taught me Dr. Weil’s 4-7-8 breathing. There’s a video online of Dr. Weil doing this and saying afterward that he can hardly talk, he feels so great. I didn’t notice any immediate benefit, but it is true that you can’t simultaneously do this and scream at your cat, so I guess it is helpful to that extent. I have kept at it, and do often notice that the 7 part is pretty pleasant, and, more generally, it has oriented me toward calming myself: activating the parasympathetic nervous system.

A huge spider appeared on my living room ceiling and remained there for weeks. Don’t they need to eat? My father said he was having a similar question about a small spider in his bathroom. Finally, I decided to try to relocate it. My father texted to wish me well in my “spidetarian endeavor.”

In late September, which is almost now, I had my first sewing lesson, with a very nice teacher in Berkeley who has a large, wonderful basement workroom. We are working on making a pattern from one of the button shirts I wear to work, so that I can make my own with any cotton fabric I want.

That same day, I met my flute teacher in person for the first time, when he met me at North Berkeley BART to hand over the bamboo flute made for me by Monty of shakuhachi.com. My teacher was quite shy in person, very different from how he is on Zoom. He drove us a block or so away from BART, and I got out and gave my new flute a preliminary try. My teacher lent me a hard case for taking it home on BART. I also bought a soft case for everyday use, and a little cover for the mouthpiece end.

At work, I visited a man whose cancer has recurred, who speaks in a very roundabout way about his predicament, often referring to himself as “one.” “One does not like to think one is hugging one’s wife for the last time.”

At our second or third visit, he kept saying something about my having such conversations with many people. I finally figured out that he was saying I must therefore have some basis for judging whether someone is good or bad, and whether their life has been worthwhile. I asked him, “Are you asking if I think you’re a good person and if your life has been worthwhile?” He confirmed that’s what he was getting at.

I paused and said with strong emphasis, “I think you’re a good person and I think your life has been worthwhile.” I very nearly burst into tears after I left his room.