Bryan sings for Judy

   

Judy and Brian

  Bryan Bowers, the folksinger, storyteller, and autoharpist virtuoso, was coming to Portland to do a concert. Judy was eager to go. She and Bryan know each other from autoharp festivals, and Judy wanted to see"the old fart "one more time. We reserved tickets for Friday night, and I began my usual  fret about the venue and how Judy could navigate it.  I did not know Bryan, but had been a fan since the seventies, when I listened over and over to his first album on a vinyl LP .  I was looking forward to the concert.
    When I came home on Wednesday afternoon, Judy greeted me with,  "We're not going to Bryan's concert on Friday." What? "He's coming here."

Singing True Thomas

    Bryan is tall man: he filled the doorway as he brought his autoharps in. After happy hugs all around he held Judy's hand and sang to her.  He gave an a cappella version of True Thomas, and a fine, complicated  autoharp rendering of Patty Ann.  He told  droll stories on himself as he and Judy traded news of mutual acquaintances. The punch lines of Bryan's  leisurely tales of friends always seem to show the  hidden goodness of the person.

Patty Ann

    Bryan was here for three hours, playing and singing and telling
stories.  He stayed for lunch; I am proud to say that this Virginia boy scarfed down my biscuits.  He presented Judy with his latest CD, recorded live at the recent Winterfolk benefit concert.  "I don't usually like live recordings," he said, "because everything has to be perfect and the audience has to be completely in tune and attentive. But this time it all worked, and it was magic."
     There was magic in our house, too, when Bryan sang for Judy.

Long may you run

   

 When the pulmonologist said to Judy, "You qualify for hospice," we were shocked.  Hospice? That's for people who are dying!  No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
      We are trying to focus on the helpful aspects of hospice. Les reminded us of our mutual friend Hal, who got so much better once he started hospice that he "graduated."  He used to say wryly that he was embarrassed that he was taking such a long time to die. Sandra told me about her father, who improved so much with the extra attention and practical help that his hospice term  had to be renewed. And Paul, with his strongly positive turn of mind, offered, "So somebody tells you you are going to die and you need  some support.  You should listen to the 'here's some support' part.  Think of it as home health care, showing up at your door for free."
     Yesterday a nurse named John came to interview Judy, tell her about the services that hospice provides, and see it she wanted to be under hospice care. She will have a nurse assigned to her, who will come once a week. A social worker will help with equipment, forms, legal and financial concerns. John told Judy that she is high functioning by their standards, and that for some people hospice care extends their lives. Nevertheless he emphasized that, in an emergency, we should call the hospice number rather than 911. A hospice nurse or doctor will come at any time day or night. That would avoid my nightmare scenario of EMTs or emergency room docs doing things to Judy that she would not want and that I don't know enough to prevent. Still, no, no, no, no.
    Although this was a milestone we never wanted to reach, Judy signed up.  Providence hospice will deliver oxygen. I perked up at that. Last Friday, Judy's biweekly oxygen delivery day, she sat up in her recliner until 10:30 at night, waiting for the Lincare oxygen guy. He neither showed up nor called.
      Today after 3 hospice will deliver their standard package of emergency drugs.  Sometime this week Judy's nurse and social worker will make appointments to visit.  There is a chaplain if she wants one. We cannot see a downside except for the psychological.  Just spare us the harpists.
     All week Neil Young has been singing my head, with just a one-word change of lyrics,

Long my you run, long my you run

Although these changes have come.

With your strong heart shining in the sun

Long may you run.