Part 108 Bills, budgets, bridals, and Bl-


The buzz for the past few weeks at work has revolved around the monumental state budget deficit. Bills and proposals are flying all around Austin, with propositions crying for pay reductions, work time reductions, stuffing more children into already overflowing classrooms, and outright teacher layoffs. Only the bureaucratic morass is keeping some of them from being passed.

It smells fresh outside at lunchtime. Flowers are blooming everywhere. Nothing Austin can or cannot do will change this. It is a day that calls out for me to throw softballs to Bree in the park. She hits them more confidently each time we go out. The beauty of the day makes me want to do whatever I can to make it stay. This would be an ideal time, then, to install the water sprinkling system in the backyard, which withered in past summers due to lack of rain

On April 13 I rise at four a.m. to make a six o’clock appointment with my physician to once again have a stent placed inside my body, something I said that I would not do again. Dr. Bl- has made a few alterations, though, which have contributed to my choice. (Of course, the main reason I have chosen the dilatation is to avoid having a six hour plus surgery and all of its accompanying potential complications). She will strengthen the esophagus by injecting it with steroids. The stent will have less opportunity to migrate south because it will be held in place by thin wires that will be attached to the base of the esophagus and will lead up to a bridle (like on the saddle of a horse) fixed under the base of my nose. This will irritate my nose and make breathing awkward for two days until the wires are cut (not to mention that I won’t look too pretty either). I meet two male nurses, both named Brett (I take this as a good sign, as this is my dog’s name). After the briefer wait this morning due to the quite early start time, preparation, and procedure, I awake, feeling uncomfortable. My throat is sore from having a breathing tube inserted in me during the procedure. Apparently all went well, though.

When we arrive home Enrique and his crew are finishing the installing of our sprinkler system that should correct some of our dry ground problem. Bree got into serious trouble when we were gone for crying, screaming, and door slamming. Apparently Brooke is not the only child having trouble coping with all this.

It is a rough night sleeping with this contraption in my nose, and the anesthesia always colors the mix in weird ways. I awake about every 10 minutes with breathing difficulties and sore throat. I’m compelled to drink water constantly, with subsequent bathroom runs as a result.