Rules for the Road

I am a techno luddite.  I’m not sure why I just can’t report on my travels with e-mail updates.  A friend told me recently that e-mail is passé and so under my daughter’s tutelage I am going to attempt to become a blogger.  It’s all part of the transformation from college professor to …….?  You can fill in the blanks.  I’m still trying to find the word that adequately describes this new chapter.  “Retiree?”  Hardly.  Fill in the dots. “Reinvention?”  “Renewal?”  “Transition?”  Where is the NOUN I’ve been searching for that will be the perfect fit?

My first official segway into this next chapter began at almost daylight on an oddly warm, and blustery Thursday morning, January 30th, when Mordi and I got into a car packed with clothing for any kind of weather event from blizzard to heat wave.  The going away photo in front of my Subaru never happened.  Excitement of what would be unraveled into anxiety over what might be waiting in the wings.  Less than twenty-four hours earlier, an appointment with an ENT to find the source of a recent hearing loss accompanied by a never-ending chorus of bell-ringing emanating from my right ear resulted in the following pronouncement.  “You need an MRI of your brain.”  Our meticulously planned journey had not even begun and already everything would be altered, as we made our way through the fog to our first destination:  Baystate Hospital’s MRI/Imaging Center.

The happy ending came about 25 anxious hours later, just a hair after noon, when the doctor’s office caught up with me exiting the Matisse exhibit at the Met.  “Your test was negative.”  A giant sigh of relief and release.  The journey had started, but the vacation could now begin!  I made my way down 5th Avenue, an icy wind slicing my face.  None of it mattered.  I had learned the first rule of the road:  “The itinerary is always subject to change.  Deal with it and keep moving.”

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