I left at 9:00 for my 11:00 o'clock ultra sound appointment. If I had been driving, it would have taken--oh, about twenty minutes, but when you're walking/busing, it is, of course, a lot longer of a trip. Walked to Telephone Road and took the 11 to Walnut, then walked the rest of the way to Rolling Oaks Radiology.
I was early, but didn't wait long to be taken in. I had never had ultra-sound--except maybe when I was pregnant, or did they have them fifty and more years ago?--and vaguely thought it was like an x-ray: You stand in front of a screen and they click a picture or something.
No. It entailed me disrobing on the top left, the tech smearing on a gel, then hearing a somewhat unsettling swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, presumably my blood rushing through my veins. It didn't hurt, though, and took only twenty minutes or so. As I had been asked to do, I called Dr. Jennings' office to report that I had had the ultra-sound, although they'll certainly send the results there.
Gail was waiting outside in her car. When she got in, she suggested we go to the harbor, instead of The Promenade in town. Actually, that suited me better, as I can get to the former on my own.
We went and enjoyed a mile or so walk up to the museum. It's closed, of course, but has a nice outdoor kind of circular sitting area, where we had our lunch. I had brought a sandwich and, because I didn't want to take a heavy can of beer, a nice little bottle of cabernet. I'm getting to like red wine, as well as white, and it seemed to go better with my sandwich.
We enjoyed our talk which, as adults often do, delved into topics we probably wouldn't have discussed in our younger years. I was interested to hear Gail's father was Unitarian, but her mother sent her to Presbyterian Sunday School. (I'm always bemused by Protestants and their wishy-washy white bread beliefs. Gail isn't religious now, incidentally.) Anyway, it was good talk.
We ran into Carolyn S. and her husband, Robert, whom I used to see in Kimball when we walked there every day. They both had masks on; this is out in the open air, very few strollers, and they're married and live together. Go figure. After a very enjoyable outing, Gail took me home, then I changed (it was much warmer than it had been) and thought I'd bus to Oxnard, as it was only 2:30.
As I was walking toward the gate, I saw a neighbor to whom Suzanne had introduced me a while ago. I liked her persona: friendly enough, but brisk and clearly intelligent and I wanted to get to know her better. Yesterday, she was outside and we exchanged names and chatted for a few. Her name is Vickie and her apartment mate's is Mary. (They may or may not be a couple.) I had understood Mary has health problems and when I asked Vickie, she replied with the "good days, bad days" answer. I hope to get to know her better.
I got the 6 bus, but as I stepped up to the higher seats, I slipped and scraped my right shin. Damn, I'll getting more scrapes and cuts than I ever did before! The driver was very concerned and asked if I wanted medical assistance. When I said no, asked me to fill out a little card explaining what happened. I did, and we rode on, but I got off at Telephone and decided just to ride to the transit center, where I got the 10 home.
I stopped at the office to get the two extra keys I had requested for Ellen and Suzanne and gave one to Suzanne. (She left at 5:00 am today for her niece's wedding in Idaho.) When I opened my sliding door to the patio, it stuck halfway and I saw a screw was popped partly up. Called the office and Scott came to fix it. While he was here, we had a nice conversation. He's a sweet-natured young man, 22, and was born in Guam, which I think is so interesting. I believe my son, Mike, and his family, have been there. Scott had just been at his brother's wedding in Washington State and the day after the affair, fire swept the outdoor venue.
Coming back from getting the mail (sparse and uninteresting, as usual), I saw Andy, my upstairs neighbor, coming back from taking Abby for a walk. Is Abby his wife, girlfriend, daughter, S.O.? Nope, she's his cute little doggie--even I like her, which is saying something--and we stood talking for some time. Andy is young, probably in his twenties, and I'm not sure what he does for a living, but he's a nice guy and I like talking to him. Along with Leah, the other upstairs neighbor, also in her twenties and Black, we have nice little diverse community.
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