Round&Round

Yesterday a child came out to wonder

Yesterday I ended a job I had just started after ending a previous job. Next week I’ll start a new job. I’ll be a year older on paper when I start. I gave Cat away this week. My fickle companion in Atlanta. I’m on a plane to Chicago.

I’m in motion. Always. In life and in my head.

I took the Marta to the airport today. Was super easy. Walked to the station, transferred once. Getting through the worlds largest airport was relatively painless despite the motion in my head.

The Marta’s PA system was the best I’ve heard. Clear, hospitable, informative. “For Georgia State, Grady Hospital, Children’s Hospital of Atlanta, International Convention Center exit next stop!” The man I struck up a conversation with on the way reminded me that Atlanta is the convention center. That’s why everything was so clear and informative and pleasant. Wish I had a GA PA system in my brain. Maybe everything would be clearer.

On the day I ended my job, I had to race over to HR, employee health and Security at my new job. I was hungover. It was raining. I was tired. Stepping on the scale at Employee Health, I found myself to be exactly 3# heavier than I was when I stepped on the Employee Health scale a little over a month ago. We start and end. We go up and we go down. We go round and round.

My spirits do to. And I start again with a little less enthusiasm this time.

On the Marta another thing was clear. Three peoples’ voices close by. I couldn’t determine the relationship of the travelers. The youngest of the three was talking about her grandfather. In the south, you drop the preposition when referring to your family members. “Granddaddy is in assisted living now. He’s 89 years old. He got remarried. She’s 88 years old. He’s 90# soaking wet. He wasn’t always that way…”

The last day of my job I had a 93 year old male patient. He had no teeth, no dentures and a BMI of 17. He had dark hipster glasses on his pale thin face covered a bit with wispy white hair.  He was at risk for aspiration/pneumonia if he was to eat by mouth. The man went from a full liquid diet, which he barely ate, to NPO (nothing by mouth) until he decided on a PEG (a tube placed in the stomach to feed through) or hospice in which he could then eat by mouth. At 93 years old, this is what it comes down to: A feeding tube or hospice.

Hospice won. And I said, “order whatever you’d like!”

Good for him.

I walked through security behind a woman holding a California license. I walked past a group of boy scouts wearing their official uniforms. I arrived at my gate seating a large Navy group dressed in formal white. While waiting to board I listened to Joni Mitchell’s  The Circle Game-3 times in a row. Completely appropriate considering.

I watched people while she sang to me. And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We’re captive on the carousel of time. We can’t return we can only look behind from where we came. And go round and round and round in the circle game.

I sat on the plane feeling disconnected. Between worlds. Being in motion does that. I turned on DeVotchka’s  The Winner Is. I watched the ground crew perform their tasks in step with the music. Watched the dance our humanity plays. The violin present throughout the background. Pluck Pluck Pluck Pluck - step step step step. Chime Chime – luggage throw luggage throw. Drum Beat - shut storage door. Drum Beat - high five coworker.

What a pretty dance. Prettier than my odd mood.

So the years spin by and now the boy is 20. Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true. There’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty. Before the last revolving year is through.

While high above the world all alone, I listen to DeVotchka sing you already know how this will end….

…go round and round and round in the circle game.