So, March came in with a roar, but where’s the whimper of its exit? On the way to my bone density measurement appointment, I get a call from Virginia’s daughter.
Lisa has bad news. Carol, who is 83, fell down an escalator in Bethesda. Carol lives just outside of Seattle but was on a spring break vacation with her sixteen-year-old granddaughter, to see the sights in Washington DC. Now she’s hospitalized in a trauma center in Baltimore, where she’s just had spinal surgery.
They say that one stable, loving, adult can be enough to save a traumatized child from a disastrous adulthood. Back when I was thirteen, Carol—an ex-girlfriend of my dad’s—was that person. As Virginia puts it, “I let him go, but I kept Debbie!”
I’ll have to call Lisa back. Cancer runs my life these days and it’s time to see what kind of shape my bones are in.