What a difference 3 months and 27 days makes
Last night I met Terence after work at a casual, neighborhoody restaurant we love on the Upper West Side. (Celeste. 84th and Amsterdam. Great food, great prices. Word to the wise: cash only.)
I met Terry on the sidewalk and we walked in together. It wasn't until we were led through the dining room and I was seated that it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. This is the restaurant we went to the night before my surgery, and I hadn't been back since. Ironically, last night we were seated at the table right next to the one we were at that night which is probably what triggered the realization as I sidled into the chair.
I remember being very quiet that night, and somewhat nervous, of course - but more eager to simply get it over with. It was right after we finished our bufala frita (fried cheese. what else do you think I would eat the night before brain surgery?) when Terry called and checked the home machine. There was a message from the hospital informing me my report time had been changed from 6 am until noon. Ugh. I don't think I spoke for the rest of the meal. 6 am is one thing. You just get up and go. It's over before you're even really awake. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how I was going to get through those extra 6 hours.
As though the karma gods knew where I was last night, they sent me a welcome sign of progress: the waiter seemed to notice that I was turning my head sideways to hear him read the specials. Without any prompt from me, for the rest of the meal he approached on the other side although to do so meant a more cramped place to wedge himself into. I tipped him extremely well.
5 comments:
Hi Joan,
I am now 8 weeks post-op. I read your last post and appreciate you checking in on me. I also check your blog regularly. I had an experience at lunch today where I couldn't conversate with the friend on the left. I felt so bad... Square tables don't work well. I am learning to adapt to positioning for the conversations. I figure if we get together, we will be fine if you are on my right and me on your left. Take care!! Carmen
Hey, Carmen! I completely agree, square tables are the worst. I had lunch with some Clients yesterday and I put them on my left and a coworker on my right. After asking my coworker to repeat himself for about the 100th time, I apologized and explained I couldn't hear on that side. He broke into a wide, warm, understanding smile and put his hand on mine and said, "I know. Don't apologize. It's ok." I guess we're not the only ones learning to adjust ;)
And yes, you and I would be quite a pair! We could translate for each other...
Joan, that's an example of one smart waiter!
I just had an idea: since you have relatively short hair, big "dangly" earrings would be visible. How 'bout a custom pair with one for the left ear that reads "Hearing" and one for the right ear that reads "Can't Hear"? Of course, you'd have to commission a jewelry designer to do 'em in sterling silver or gold filigree.
Joan, that's an example of one smart waiter!
I just had an idea: since you have relatively short hair, big "dangly" earrings would be visible. How 'bout a custom pair with one for the left ear that reads "Hearing" and one for the right ear that reads "Can't Hear"? Of course, you'd have to commission a jewelry designer to do 'em in sterling silver or gold filigree.
Helen - I love it. Also, I'm always caught off guard by people overtaking me on the right since I don't hear them coming. So maybe the back of the earings could have those indicators that trucks have about which side to pass on. We're on to something here (hear?)
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