Tea in Bed
I'm afraid re-entry has been a little bit of a shock on my intestines, or that I have brought back a little bit of Mexico and it really doesn't want to stay in my stomach. It's a good thing it is so cold that staying in bed with tea is not a bad thing. It's nice to be home when you don't feel well. Although Sarah and the baby are both afflicted, and I may need to go over there and help them today. The trouble is, that when I see throw-up, I do. It's a reflexive response. Like the way my friend Larry, a normally tough carpenter and hunter, passed out on the clinic floor when his babies were born. I had hoped my lingering queasiness was due to the flight home from Juneau in the northerly gale. The nine passenger Caravan is big, as small planes go, and the pilot took us high over the mountains and as out of the wind as he could. Chip loved it. He sat in the co-pilot seat and I could see him from my seat back by the cargo net looking all around for goats and places to hunt and hike. A young pregnant woman was in front of me, and she reached for the airsick bag early. I have been there. Once, I couldn't find a bag and puked into my backpack. I shouldn't think about that now though. I do need to calm whatever is jumping around in my stomach, since there's a lot going on today. A library committee meeting at 3:30, choir practice at 6:00 (Susie had her baby, a girl named Patience) and the third Community Matters discussion at the library from 7:00-9:00.