Happy Birthday to Me

by Jonah

I’ve had better birthdays

We had a late campaign meeting the night before. I finally got home around midnight. When I got up the next morning, there was a message from Max Bremer’s wife Tamsey (she and the kids are staying with Michele and Duncan while Max is deployed flying over Iraq) saying that, when Duncan got home from the campaign meeting the night before, Michele was in intense pain. She’d had surgery on her left foot last Friday to correct damage to her toe joints as a result of the Lyme disease.

(Had I mentioned that Michele was diagnosed last year with Lyme disease, not untreatable MS as she thought she’d had for 15 years?)

So Duncan was up all night with Michele at the hospital. Turns out she wasn’t getting circulation to the two toes that had been operated on. It’s still up in the air whether or not they’ll have to amputate part of her toes. And the pain is horrendous.

The good news is that today she asked Duncan to bring her knitting and some chocolate. So I think she’s feeling a little better.

On top of this, Berck was sick, and I was coming down with his cold as well.

Tamsey and the kids got me a balloon and a card, though, that they gave me when I got to the Bremers to work. (JB got a Thomas the Train balloon as well, and Gloria got a “Thinking of You” balloon, which will eventually perform double-duty on a trip to the hospital.)

I got home to find Berck crumpled on the couch in the study. “I don’t think I can construct you anything for dinner,” he said weakly. And he certainly didn’t look like he should be dragged out into public to eat. “Doesn’t making you lasagna from scratch and a seven layer torte last year carry over a year?” he whimpered.

So I ordered a pizza from Extreme Pizza (“The best overpriced pizza in town,” according to the Independent newspaper), complete with anchovies on the side, just for me. And Berck didn’t even complain about being in the same room as them. It’s been so long since I’ve had anchovies. I’d forgotten how good they can be.

Then for dessert I ate refrigerated fudge sauce with a spoon.

I spent most of the evening on the phone, either with my various family members or my campaign staff and volunteers.

Today my neighbor rang the doorbell to our open door (the weather was beautiful today, and we don’t have bugs) and handed me a plate of zucchini bread. For my birthday.

Berck said he’d cook me a special dinner tonight, but I told him I don’t know if I’d be able to taste anything. I feel pretty pathetic. (I think today is my cold’s apex.)

Tonight he’s making me pea casserole.

Actual Fact: In auto accidents, injuries are twice as likely to be fatal for whites as for blacks.

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