The Big Fry Day 2
From the world's premier writer of hilarious and life-affirming heat wave literature - me.
Yesterday was day one of a heat wave that’s going to last for — who the hell knows how long. Last night I wrote the first dispatch from this weather event. For those of you who think that I wrote a sad post that will just make you depressed — one of the more than 2/3 of recipients without the good sense to open that email — be advised that my post had a lot of great jokes in it. A few of my best ever. Don’t miss out because of the subject matter.
Wednesday, day two of The Big Fry, I opened my eyes and did not feel at all enthusiastic about being awake or for that matter, alive. I tried to stay asleep as long as humanly possible and made it until about nine. I had to take Ruthie to her spot, some public woods near our house. She kind of can’t go anywhere else on account of she can’t see very well. She’s got the spot memorized. While Ruthie surveyed her spot I cried. I was not just crying because it was hot out. Like many people, I have a lot going on right now.
Ruthie does not like it when I cry. She kept circling me, checking in to see that the all-important mama-baby connection had not been severed. I assured her it was not, that mama was just having a bad day.
It turned out to be only a bad half-morning because afterward I went to a 12-step meeting.
By the way, I am not trying to insinuate that someone in my family is an alcoholic. People in my family are definitely partiers, but that’s not why I go. I go because I went in Los Angeles for a long time when I was actually living with a serious drinker, and I keep going because it’s the best therapy I have ever found, times a thousand, and it’s free. It’s probably not the thing for everyone but I think it’s for a lot of people. If I ever meet a straight American woman that doesn’t need to go to Al-Anon, I will be sure to let you know.
The meeting utterly transformed my mood and outlook. Also, I hadn’t gotten it together to make coffee at home so I drank the coffee at the meeting and it was actually pretty goddam good. I mean it was just some garbage coffee but the proportions were right and it was fresh. In a world gone wrong it was a pleasant surprise. I am going to get up and get some more and get my head screwed back on right again tomorrow.
After the meeting, the bluebird on my shoulder and I went together to get an X-ray of my hip. The X-ray place is near the Grass Valley Safeway and the parking lot was totally full. I don’t know why. I had to park at a vast distance. Not really but it seemed that way. I have taken to covering my whole face with a dark silk scarf, bandit style. It’s a nice barrier and preserves the Beauty and Health.
Some of the X-ray experience involved lying down on a cold table. It felt amazing. I was so sad when I had to get up. The X-ray lady told me she needed me to take a CD to my orthopedist. I said, “I’ll do whatever you want but respectfully what the hell?” She said that’s what they asked for. She said she’d bring it to me in the lobby. I went to the lobby and then forgot why I was there and went to Safeway and bought bread, seltzer, three shitty apples, coconut water, romaine lettuce and cherry tomatoes. It cost approximately forty thousand dollars. I said thank you anyway. Then I realized I had forgotten the CD with my hip X-ray, so I drove across the lot to the imaging center, where there were now parking spaces.
I told the receptionist, “Hey, I never got the CD.” The receptionist went away and two minutes later came back with the X-ray lady, who was looking at me funny. She said she had given the CD to me. Lo and behold it was in my bag with my groceries. I had absolutely no memory of her handing it to me. Zero.
I took this relic of another age to the orthopedist’s office a few miles away. This receptionist asked me why I had brought it. I’m just following orders, I said. Yeah, we don’t need that thing, he said. I said I didn’t think that it was 1998 either but I wasn’t about to argue with the imaging center since between my hip/knee (unclear) and mammograms which seem to happen every two weeks I practically live there.
I figured as long as I was there that I might as well make an appointment which I braced myself for being in the distant future. I explained that the office forgot I existed for a month, that they had simply neglected to send my order to the imaging place and I had had to just go there last week because they don’t answer the phone and be like “Excuse me, hello, hi, can you help me.” And they indeed did not have the order so they called the orthopedic office and they said oh yeah her file is just sitting here no one can read what the doctor wrote. And then I called the orthopedic office myself and was told the same and finally the imaging place got the order that was supposed to be just sent the fuck over there when I had my appointment last month.
The receptionist said “Oh right — no one could read the doctor’s notes, so your chart was just sitting around.”
I said I had in fact recently heard this news.
He told me the doctor was a good surgeon. I said that was very reassuring. (I’m getting some sort of minor inpatient thing. Or maybe I’m not. I will let you know in 2026.) He got me an appointment in two weeks though, a miracle.
I had a tuna sandwich at noon and another one at five. I went to another Al-Anon meeting. As I parked I saw a homeless dude with a heeler pulling all his belongings in a wagon through the unbearable heat of early evening. I gave them some money. We hugged. I wish I could remember the dog’s name. It was a blue heeler, less plump and frightened than Ruthie, but just as beautiful. When I left the meeting I was filled with the magic of recovery. I felt so much less afraid of the world, despite the world being objectively scary. There were no new significant fires today, though some that gave it a try. The Thompson Fire continues to burn, good thoughts to all those suffering in the land of Ishi, who was cool, and Doug LaMalfa, an evil 4th generation rice farmer, who is not. Humans continue to live and moths continue to dive bomb me in my bed. Tomorrow is day three, and Ruthie and I will greet it with the best we have to offer.
Way to go, Sarah! I find this comforting, believe it or not.
Fucking Health Care is BS. I did finally find a good doctor, after 4 years in GV. Love you girl ❤️