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March 30, 1998
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This day started off really really weird. Nancy and I got up early so we could have a good breakfast before we had to take Emily up to Angell Memorial Hospital in Boston for her radioactive iodine treatment for the hyperthyroid thingie. So we went out to breakfast at The Gallery Cafe, a funky little coffee shop and art gallery on Hope Street. We were enjoying our coffee and breakfast sandwiches and talking about everything. Both of us were a little anxious about Emily so we may have been talking louder than usual. Or not. Anyway, in the midst of a discussion about the dog downstairs (big Dalmatian) who chomped on the little dog next door and almost killed him, a woman in a blue leather jacket with dyed red hair walked up to our table and and said "some people just can't restrain themselves from talking too much, can they?" and gave us a look that scared me. She went back to her table and proceeded to write furiously on napkins. We sat in silence for awhile as we finished our coffee and then resumed talking in low tones. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if the woman was gone. Talk about anxiety. I was convinced this woman was going to stalk us, or burn down the house, or I don't know what. She just gave me the creeps. I kept going over and over in my mind who we had disrespected in the conversation: the former landlord, the current landlady, the people downstairs, the dog, the Lord - well not really, the comment about the Lord was related to our encounter with the woman at the cove yesterday who had been led to her house by the Lord as opposed to Nancy's having been led to her current place by her old landlord - it was a pun, not a blasphemy. And we didn't really disrespect the downstairs neighbors, only their dog, who does have a mean streak. Anyway, I was getting really nervous that this woman maybe lived in one of the landlady's buildings and was writing down weird half-truths to tell her or something. Who knows. I was just plain scared. After we left the cafe to go to the bank and get money for the expedition, we compared our reactions to the encounter. Nancy was angry but not as scared as I was because she didn't see the woman's face. I calmed down eventually. It was hot. Nancy sat in the back seat with Emily, who was in the cat carrier I picked up at Petco on Saturday (or was it Friday, or Thursday, I don't remember now). Emily didn't complain much but she did make that open-mouthed stress display a few times. I tried to speak reassuring words to both Nancy and Emily, and also to drive such that Rt. 128 didn't freak out any of us (including me). I found the place, no problem, and we were 25 minutes early. We met a woman from Maine in the waiting room. She'd driven down from Portland this morning with her cat, also gray and white like Emily, for the radioactive iodine treatment. She didn't have an appointment, but she got there before us and filled out the paperwork before us so she got in before us. We ended up waiting a long time, observing many people and animals coming and going. A woman from the North Shore came in 15 minutes late for her appointment with the dog cardiologist. She was wearing a pink suit with a white silk blouse. Her little white dog had two pink bows on its head. They were perfectly color coordinated. Since she'd missed her appointment, they had to wait a long time for another opening. The whole time we were there she kept having to explain to everyone who commented - and believe me everyone commented - that the color coordination was an accident. She had just picked the dog up from the groomer, who had adorned her with pink bows unbeknownst to the pink suited owner. A really big guy came in with two teensy little dogs named Bob and Lovey. All I could think of was Andrea's favorite stuffed animal named Lovey. Nancy leaned over and asked me "doesn't one of your nieces have a stuffie named Lovey?" Bob was by far the more rambunctious of the two. The poor guy had to keep getting up and taking them for walks along the corridors to calm them down. Finally, it was getting to be after 1:00 and Nancy was about to ask the woman at the desk how much longer the wait would be, when the doctor called for Emily. She checked her out thoroughly and explained the schedule for the week: blood work and tests on Monday, radioactive iodine injection on Tuesday, sitting and eating for the rest of the week - with deli meat turkey on Thursday. Sounds like summer camp except for the radioactivity. After the procedure, they check the cat with a Geiger counter every day and you can call the Cat Liaison after noon to get the day's reading. |
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