Losing it?

Saturday, May 10, Lucy and I went into town to do some shopping. We were all set to get a bite to eat at Cici's Pizza and then go to Meijer to shop for groceries.

As soon as we stepped up to the counter to order the Cici's buffet I reached into my pocket. No wallet! I told Lucy that I didn’t have my wallet. The look on her face bespoke her disappointment. She got out her small change purse and paid for the buffet. Nothing was said after the obligatory apology and bowing and scraping on my part. I picked a few items from the salad bar; lettuce, carrots, onions, broccoli, red beets, black olives, ranch dressing, and then selected from an assortment of pizza slices on down the line. It was a good meal, all in all. I don’t know how much pizza I can eat when one has kidney problems, but I didn’t want to deprive myself.

As we finished, Lucy, being on a power wheelchair, exclaimed that she would like to drive up to Meijer herself. It was only about 200 yards away. So she took off and I drove the van to park in a handicap spot right by Meijer.

Suddenly, I remembered that I didn’t have my wallet and hurried to find Lucy before she went into the building. She was stopping at the outside garden center, admiring the flowers, and I caught up to her. “Honey,” I said, “Remember, I don’t have my wallet.”

She registered dismay and exclaimed, “I don’t believe this!” She was next to livid. Well, not really. But she was not happy.

“I could go home and get it,” I offered.

“With the price of gas? . . . Oh, do whatever you want!” And she rode off toward the store. She wanted to look for a couple items.

I called after her, “I’ll wait right here.” It would be a 25 mile round trip. At 16 miles per gallon and $3.74 a gallon, it was better to go shopping another day. I found a parking place and turned on the radio to a soothing classical music station. It was a nice sunny day and I opened the windows for the fresh air. I sat there wondering where my wallet was. I always put it in the right side pocket of my trousers. It had money in it, one credit card, and two debit cards, my driver’s license, among other things. I reasoned that it might be on the night stand by the bed, where I usually put it. Or maybe I left it in the car.

I don’t often get these lapses of memory…well, yes I guess I do, but not when it concerns my wallet. I’m pretty conscientious about it and kept track of it faithfully, until now.

I had an imaginary conversation with Lucy. “This is a chance to practice forgiveness and forbearance,” I said to no one in particular. I was getting a little bit upset by the turn of events but there was nothing I could do about it, I thought.

Somewhere in the parking lot a car alarm went off. I counted the beeps. It stopped at 81.

I called my brother in New Jersey just to chat. His wife Debbie answered. I asked if Dave was there and she said he wasn’t home yet. I asked her how he was doing, and she said he was OK. She asked me how I was doing and I told her, “I’m OK except that Lucy is upset with me. We’re here at the store to do some grocery shopping and I forgot my wallet.” I don’t know what her reaction was. She didn't say anything. She might have been commiserating with Lucy for all I knew. She then offered to tell Dave I called and he could return my call.

I called my brother Ron in Pennsylvania and we had a nice conversation. It’s good to keep in touch with family.

Just then Lucy came back with a couple small items she had purchased and we were off again. We had to go home because, without my wallet . . .

She casually wondered to whom I was talking. I told her “I was talking to Ron, and I also wanted to talk with Dave but he wasn’t home. I talked to Debbie and told her my wife was upset with me for losing my wallet. You know, hon,” I ventured to suggest, “now is a good time to practice forgiveness and forbearance.” I don’t think she was amused. She didn’t respond.

When we arrived at home I started to look for my wallet. I looked on the night stand, looked in the car, went down to my office, no wallet. I came back upstairs and wondered aloud where I could have put it. Lucy offered her opinion, belaboring my penchant for losing things. I suddenly got an inspiration. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I had it all the time! (whimper)

This actually unnerves me a little.

I always used to put my wallet in my back pocket, until the chiropractor suggested that it would be better if I had the wallet in another pocket, it’s better for the spine if you refrain from putting anything in the back pocket.

A few years ago, something similar happened. While at the doctor’s office (nephrologist—kidney specialist) on July 29, 2003 I offered to pay the co-pay with a check. I wrote it out and gave it to the secretary. She wrote up a receipt and gave it to me. I put everything in my shirt pocket and left for home. At home I emptied my shirt pocket and found I had brought the check back too! I thought I remembered giving it to the secretary, and here I find it in my own pocket, along with the receipt! I called up their office and left a voice mail.

I decided to send the check by mail so I took it to the post office in Mansfield. They should get it the same day or so. I was working at the News Journal at the time. I got a call from the doctor's secretary at work asking me if she had given me my check back my mistake. Yes, I told her, and I mailed it this morning. It seems everyone was being absent minded.

That is not the end of the story—about the absentmindedness, I mean. I took the checkbook and a savings account bank book to work in my shirt pocket and put it in my desk. At the end of the day I took it out of the desk just before I was to leave for home. I distractedly tried putting it back in my shirt pocket again. It didn’t want to fit in. I had a sweater on (air conditioning was too efficient where I worked) and that was in the way. I must have put it in enough to concentrate on something else and I later gathered my lunch box and a newspaper and headed for the exit. Just then my checkbook dropped to the floor. I noticed I didn’t have the bank book in my hand either and I wracked my brain where I could have put it. I retraced the few steps I took since I last had it in my possession. Then I just sat down and waited—for inspiration, I guess. Co-worker Melonie was working right there and noticed my dilemma and asked if I was still looking for it. I explained that I looked everywhere—at all the places I walked, and searched all my pockets. She asked if I had it in my sweater. I shook my head but lifted up my sweater—and the bank book fell to the floor, amid laughter at my expense. I fled to the parking lot.

In the parking lot I have a habit of taking off my sweater since it’s usually an oven outside and on high broil inside the car. I took my glasses off and put them on the roof of the car and pulled the sweater off over my head. I got into the car and realized I didn’t have my glasses on. Shucks, I must have left them on my desk at work.

I coasted the car into the other parking lot which was closer to the entrance. Just then it dawned on me. I sheepishly retrieved the glasses from off the car roof. It wasn’t my day. Clearly I had things on my mind. I guess one can take only so much confusion!

Maybe a little justification is in order. I was diagnosed in 2003 with end stage renal disease. Some symptoms of kidney disease are headaches, numbness in the feet and hands (peripheral neuropathy), altered mental status (encephalopathy from the accumulation of waste products or uremic poisons), and restless legs syndrome. I've had the headaches in the recent past, bad headaches, and have occasional memory loss, which I described in this blog. Sometimes, I think my wife doesn't believe it, so I'm rather alone in this.

Actually, I have a great memory. I remember when I was 2 years old, maybe earlier. It's the short term present memory that can elude me sometimes. Believe me, I take my B vitamins and supplements which are approved by the kidney specialist, so I'm not dying on the vine here.

PSALM 139:1-18 O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me. 2 Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. 3 Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. 4 For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. 5 Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.
7 Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? 8 If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. 9 If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; 10 Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. 11 If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. 12 Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee. 13 For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. 14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. 15 My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. 16 Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.
17 How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! 18 If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee...

ONE MORE STORY: In the late afternoon of May 5, 2008 I told Lucy I was going to the Toastmasters' Meeting at Ashland University. I hadn't been to a meeting in 5 months since I broke my leg on December 7. It was a beautiful evening and I drove the 12 miles to the University and parked in the parking lot across from the Student Center. I was on crutches and carrying a briefcase and I slowly made my way into the Student Center, down the hall, into the elevator, and arrived at Room C on the second floor. It was 6:05 and no one was there! In 10 minutes the meeting would start.

I sat down to think. I tried to remember the email that Steve sent, whether they had changed location. I had Shirley's phone number in my cell phone so I ventured to call her, although she had moved away a few months ago. She had been our coach in the art of public speaking during Toastmasters' meetings. Maybe she kept in touch with someone here and knew what was going on.

She was glad for my call but she didn't know what the situation was. "Do you realize I'm in California?" she asked. "Yes I do," I replied, "but I'm at a loss here. No one showed up for the meeting." She told me that she had misplaced her address book before she moved so she couldn't give me any phone numbers. After some more talk, she wished me well and we disconnected.

There were two other people on my cell phone and I tried to call them, but no answer. I didn't bother leaving a voice mail.

I resignedly went back downstairs and, seeing the Safety Office with the window open into the hall, and a person sitting at a desk, I asked, "Do you know anything about a Toastmasters' Meeting tonight?"

"In this building?" she asked.

"Yes, there's usually a Toastmasters' Meeting here, but I haven't been here for several months so I don't know if they changed the meeting place."

She looked at the activities list. "There's a Toastmasters' Meeting on Tuesday, " she said.

I said, "Yes, Tuesday . . . tonight."

She smiled apologetically and broke it to me gently: "This is Monday."

O God, help us all!!