I am so tired, but I know there is a couch, shower, supper, and laundry
waiting for me at Jessi’s place. But she starts her RN night shift at 7 pm,
so I need to hustle along. By mid-afternoon, I arrive at our
rendezvous point with a belly full of chips, and bits of ju jubes
stuck in my teeth, which Jessi points out to me when she picks me up.
I met Jessi in Mexico during my Central America trip. She’s extroverted,
so it was easy to sit and listen to her charming east-coast accent
without being expected to speak very much. I’m hoping for
the same on this visit. I’m too tired to talk much.
Jessi whips up an excellent supper and refills my beer glass
from the growler of Picaroons, a local beer. Jessi wants to look
more closely at my legs with a nurse’s eye. My legs are swollen
and there is a rash from the knees down. Edema? She wonders aloud,
then gives her professional opinion.
“You would be wise to take a few days off and keep your legs elevated.”
I look at her with wide eyes and we both burst into laughter.
She knows there is no damned way in hell I am going to stop walking
for a few days with my feet elevated. After a shower
and an hour of elevation, she notices the redness
has started to recede and says she’ll check them again
in the morning after she comes back from work.
Before she leaves, she puts a full loaf of banana bread in front of me.
“I expect this to be gone by morning,” she says, hurrying off.
I make a good show of it, but there is still a quarter of the loaf left over
when she returns. Poor Jessi. Finishing her night shift at 7:30 am,
exhausted and wanting to go to bed, but determined
to drive me back to the highway.
“Can you check my legs first?” I ask, trying not to sound insensitive
to her need for sleep. The swelling is gone except for a bit
around the ankles and the redness has diminished considerably.
No need to take a few days off.
Jessi, my friend and temporary primary care provider,
pronounces me good to go.
