Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
If I am accompanying Paul anywhere in future, unless we’re evac’ing from a fire, we are not taking the gd stairs. If I watch him fall down those curving steps at Royal City Square because he literally has damage to the reflex to put his hands up when he falls, not only will I be filling out forms for a year (nb this is family joke of long standing and has nothing to do with the seriousness of the event) I’ll be traumatized for the rest of my life.
He looked at his blood pressure and said, “That’s not so bad,” to which my response was, “You’re teetering on the edge of a hypertensive crisis. Last November I had blood pressure like that and went to RCH.” His answer to this was to blame the coffee he drank this morning.
The name for the inability to be able to recognize that you have an attested and duly diagnosed legitimate medical condition is anosognosia aka our old friend Annis O’Nose-ya and Christ alive but it’s swift becoming a walking stick among my words.
Paul set himself two tasks today. When I called him to say YOU HAVE TASKS, which I am supposed to accompany you on, he blanked. But he figured it out fast enough, and I got him over here this morning before Suzanne arrived. He handed his phone over to Jeff, who did what he has long been expected to do, and fixed the problem with kind words, and then I disappeared Paul to the aforementioned mall.
The store he remembered was gone. I took no offence to this at all, since it had vanished between today and the last time I was in the mall, probably a good six months ago. I mean, I’ve been into the Save-On and the Wal-Mart (the former much more than the latter) which butt onto the western end of the mall, but I don’t normally go into the mall, which is very distinguished by how, apart from the retail staff, I’m often the youngest person in view. Not to put to fine a point on it, I turned 64 this week. I felt like a mere stripling, actually.
He had to poop. Took a while. Quite a while.
While we were feeling sad about how nobody seemed to have what he needed, I had to poop. I was somewhat more expeditious but I fucking near ripped some plumbing out of the sink when it assaulted me. They put the DRYER AND THE FAUCET ON THE SAME THREE PRONGED CHROME OBJECT and since the ‘signage’ consisted of a teeny stamped-in logo about the size of your finger end, and which disappeared in the reflection created by direct sunlight coming into the fucking bathroom, I had no idea that I was about to stick my hand under what I thought was an automatic faucet only to get an F1 tornado blowing the remnants of someone else’s experiment in handwashing up my nose. The fact I didn’t scream blue murder should earn me a laurel in itself.
Anyway, that mall is distinguished by how indistinguishable it is from other malls, and has like forty cell phone kiosks. We visited them all. We went to the Source, and Telus and Rogers and the rest of the row of cell phone kiosks, looking for an LG accessory. Please note: LG shutdown its smartphone division in 2021. Trust capitalism to orphan Paul’s tech. Finally, at a kiosk that hadn’t opened at 10 am, there was a cherubic Desi kid (he was 25, tops, short and round-faced and long-lashed and cheerful) and he said, “Come around, other side,” and found everything Paul needed (a new phone case and a new screen, which he did a skilled job of applying) and now Paul’s phone may survive a while longer. Paul was ecstatic and we got the hell out of that mall. Driving in that parking garage is one of the Stations of the Cross for New Westminster, stg (swear to god).
It freaking near killed me not to go into the Purdy’s but I knew that it would be something I’d regret and I ate half a chocolate bar yesterday anyway. It was my gd birthday, I HAVE NO RAGRETS… This is a movie reference. I have never seen the movie, but I know about this image. This is the curse of thEE INTarwEBz
Paul almost fell down the stairs heading back to the car. I watched him in real time forget and then remember how to walk downstairs. He should not be living on the second story of a building. It’s moments like this when I understand why Katie is occasionally flashing on terrified. If you don’t live with him or interact with him it’s invisible.
Paul is almost to the point of not being able to use a bank card any more. The last half dozen transactions I witnessed have been characterized by errors caused by him stabbing the keypad at random. If he hadn’t been coached by our Desi vendor it mighta got lengthy.
All our missions accomplished we scarpered, I drove Paul home (we’d gotten enough WALKING going up and down the mall to POOP so I felt fine about skipping a walk outdoors).