Day 10 of 27 — Wednesday Evening

June 30, 2021

It’s Wednesday again. The same time of day as when I wrote last week, with the same sort of setting-sun light. Today only parts of the green canopy and very few buildings seem dusted with light gold powder. The ones in shade seem sad and neglected. I guess it's never the same light over the same landscape ever; nor is the observer the same, even when they are. 

 

I started writing a post late this afternoon. I wrote—

It’s so hot but a light breeze cools the sweat on my body. Soon I will need to draw-shut the curtains of this North-West facing room. The sun slants in strongly here in the afternoons and bakes the space. I’m one-third through my twenty-seven day challenge. Last week I was anxious, I wondered if I would be able to write a daily entry. This week I feel relaxed. That trust about writing that dissipated during the pandemic seems to be returning. 

 

I wanted to spend some time exploring what this trust that I could not concretely describe, just feel, was. But I was interrupted…. By a message from my sister… that made me spin… she was going for a lung CT scan.

 

We had spoken long about it earlier in the day. I had explained why she didn’t need it (her oxygen levels averaged at 97, she never had trouble breathing) and why it was dangerous too. She had agreed and then suddenly she decided to go.

 

It’s been a struggle to support my sister in following a course of treatment and tests I myself would shun. I feel her confusion and her sense of ‘no other choice’. She’s been struck with having to figure out how to handle her own, and her helper’s, covid infection. If this had happened a few months ago it would have been easier. Our family doc lost his life to covid a month ago. A huge loss to many, beyond family. He never overmedicated and only used additional tests when absolutely vital. We trusted him. He was a true healer. She’s been following the guidance of a new doctor whose ideas I don’t like. It’s hard to quiet my own opinions and remain open to her choices. Harder still when it is about health and when it is my only sister. 

 

Earlier, I shutdown my laptop, and pounded my feet on the treadmill, then cycled at a high intensity. An hour later, I felt calmer. Calm enough to share my views in a way that we didn't argue. 

 

I am trusting my words, whether on paper, or on the phone. I am trusting I have the right ones and the right tones to say what I want and be heard. I am trusting that even if they go silent for a bit they will find their ‘voice’ again.  

 

An hour ago white clouds formed a porous roof over the city. Now pink-orange clouds stretch into the distance while an artic blue sky peeks between. I want to paint this.