So I’m off to get a CT scan of my unstable pelvis, and the tooth Dr. Katz fixed is now completely perfect in all respects, plus he ground just a smidge off a cuspid and now my mouth feels normal again. The scan will be booked and they’ll call me, and then I back to see the bone doc about ten days after the scan to give them a chance to read it.
3.0 hours on the CPAP. I feel very refreshed and not particularly in pain, which is pleasant. No words yesterday.
I am ashamed to say I bailed on Paul last night, he wanted to go swimming, but I biked to and from the dentist and had a rather trying day in other respects, sitting in cold rooms waiting for doctors not being one of my oh doodie moments. Went to bed early, went to sleep early. For some reason the mask felt very comfortable last night, although I still took it off. I think I was contemplating getting up and yelling at Buster since he was making so much frikkin’ noise.
Jeff is home, and Buster is much, much happier. (With Margot, you can’t tell; her baseline temperament is so incredibly calm.) He is a daddy’s boy.
I did the math; if all the people who live in Vancouver, Victoria, Nanaimo, Kamloops, Kelowna, Abbotsford, White Rock and Chilliwack were homeless, that would still only be half as many as have been rendered homeless by the earthquake in Nepal.
Sometime in the next two hundred years Vancouver will get its own rumble. If it’s a megaquake it’ll be felt across Cascadia. I’m starting to keep extra water on hand.
This sweet little piece of satire is from a filking buddy.
Continued drug gang related violence (or so one supposes) in Metro Vancouver.
Chipper sends me this hand flute playing virtuosity.
She also sends me this cute panoply of chordate behaviours.
I will endeavour mightily to get back on track today. Except I have to do something for church.