Mail Carrier With a Hernia

August 27, 2013

Jade Alexandra Larson lost her driver’s license amongst a few French fry sleeves and paper sacks from White Castle, tossed serendipitously from a car onto the medium. I am the trash-picker-upper on my nightly walks and happened to spot Jade’s mug staring at me from the prickly grass. The plastic is slightly bent yet not irreparable. Large cash rewards aside, I don’t think twice about plopping it in an envelope to go out in tomorrow’s mail. Miss Larson should have it in her hot little hand in a day.

The streets are quiet, mostly just humming noises coming from house after house, as we climb the sidewalks through the neighborhood, scooping garbage. It is good to be back home. Cat curled up next to me on the loveseat, dog slathered across his bed near the front door, AC blowing warmish air around the room.

Earlier today my aged friend and I drove five minutes down the road from his place, to the local health clinic. He immediately forgot why we were there, as the PA’s attendant checked him in. Peppered with questions about his current and past medications, previous visits to the clinic, inquiries regarding his heart condition, and details about the up-and-coming follow-up, left him looking dazed and discernibly confused. The PA turned up the volume and asked my pal another series of questions that made my heart vibrate like a crash of timber next to my head. She seems nice enough, competent, thorough, perky, and concerned yet I can only brood over a system that encourages one doctor (or in this case, a Physician’s Assistant) to support the whole scheme of care. She scrolled through many doctor’s notes and added some of her own before turning us out with sheets in hand. At least we secured an appointment on Thursday to take care of his painful toe issues, at yet another clinic, not nearly as conveniently located.

Arriving back at the ranch, we met the postal worker at the edge of the driveway. He toted a massive stack of mail for my buddy, who cheerfully suggested I assist him with the letter opener. I am astounded by the number of solicitations, from many organizations I have never heard of, to help them build schools, save the whales, puppies, fish, birds, prairie grasses and crystal rock from destruction. He got 2014 calendars, a bracelet, pen, a nickel, three shiny pennies, notepads, stickers, return address labels, measurement conversion charts, all quite necessary in the weeks and months to come. I honestly thought he had stopped the mail for several days, weeks, months but he assures me not. I didn’t want to suggest how many trees were ripped down and shredded to send out the umpteen inquiries for dwindling his precious retirement account.