Fire and Ice

The streets in Portland are solid sheets of ice with a thin coating of snow, and in this photo taken from my (well-heated, comfortably housed) window, you can see a string of blue tarpaulins where unhoused people stayed through the night while the temperatures went down to 22F/-5C. Unhoused people often camp next to churches, hoping they will be granted a modicum of sanctuary from the “sweeps” police perform to “get rid of the trash.” Income inequality grows steadily deeper in this country. Fortunately on the local level, we have a strong advocate for unhoused people in our new City Commissioner. Sadly, the wheels of government grind slowly, but there is hope. 

Meanwhile I am temporarily immobile again. Walking to a tax appointment yesterday, I felt pain intensify in my right knee (the one I’ve had so much trouble with). In a period of about two minutes the pain went from zero to ten. I hobbled into the tax office, ashen and trembling, got through the appointment, and hobbled out to a bus stop. Then swelling set in. I’m coping, using ibuprofen and icing the knee every hour for twenty minutes, and I’ll see the knee doc tomorrow morning if I can walk two short blocks with a cane, and if it’s not icy again. The injection of hyaluronic acid has not done much, and I suspect the meniscus tear was exacerbated yesterday. I can’t think what else would cause that much pain so suddenly.

I can’t think clearly, so I’m not writing, but I do thank all of you for your encouragement for one who has “lost her way” on Feb. 1st, and for your many stars and hearts on the 2nd and 3rd. (Not laughing quite as much the last two days, this malfunction less funny.) Love to you all.