RIP, Archbishop

 Archbishop Desmond Tutu has died at age 90 after a life of fighting apartheid and offering moral leadership to the world. I was incredibly fortunate to meet him once. I was stage managing a large church assembly at which he was the preacher at the opening worship. The processional was designed around the energy of African tradition with dancers holding a golden cloth over the heads of the participants as they walked down the aisle. In the Archbishop's case, he danced down the aisle. His red robes flowing around him as he kept the rhythms of the music. Bless their very America ministerial hearts, the preachers in the line behind him tried their best and were obviously so up tight about moving with that energy in church. My dancer's heart could but grin. 

In the huge convention center auditorium, my crew and I were stationed on the floor stage left of the raised platform. Even though we were in plain sight, we were also invisible as lights and worship participants kept congregational attention focused on the stage. As we moved into the celebration of the Eucharist, the worship leader invited us to pass the Peace to each other. I looked up to see the Archbishop leaning down to take my hand and offer me the Peace of God. He looked me in the eye and blessed me and moved on down the line of "invisible" crew. 

The Archbishop did in that setting what he had done all his life: he saw the invisible ones and blessed them ~ in our case with the Peace of God, in his homeland with a fight for justice and equality. No one from that stage (and I stage managed a number of those assemblies) had ever reached down and acknowledged our presence just off stage left in plain sight but invisible. 

The world was made better by your presence in it, sir. May your heavenly dance continue. 

ER

I had a rather nasty episode last week and went to the doctor to get an antibiotic. He couldn't find anything and, although he admitted he might be overreacting, sent me to the ER for a cat scan of my brain. Whoa! I admit to being scared. Well, they ran a battery of tests and everything was negative. You can be very busy in the ER as they take you here, there and everywhere, move you through this machine and that machine and poke you in this arm and then that arm. 

They found nothing except a rather low oxygen level. They ordered the oxygen too late in the day for delivery and so they sent me upstairs to an observation room for the night. Interesting situation when you left home at 11:30 am expecting to be home in an hour. I did discover the toothpaste and toothbrush they provide so that helped. 

I came home with several oxygen tanks and a permanent oxygen machine was delivered about an hour after I got home. So - for now I am on oxygen 24/7; I have home health care to work on balance because there is still some vertigo symptoms present; and I miss my workouts with my trainer. It is my goal to get back to those as soon as possible. 

ER observations: everyone is friendly, helpful and tries to figure out what may be wrong with you. They will feed you anything you want whenever you want it. If you are allowed food, you may have it. They don't want you to be hungry. However. when you don't get to order breakfast, you get the absolute worst omelet in the world. I found out it is prepackaged and tastes like sand. My egg salad sandwich for lunch was made with real eggs and the salad was crisp and tasty. 

A big sign on the wall of the room said "Call nurse before getting out of bed!" I kept Jorge, my night nurse, hopping. He was great though and stopped once to sit and visit which was really nice. I was very glad to get home. I'm getting better although still struggling with some vertigo and staying on oxygen for a while. Staying inside is easy right now as we are in the middle of an atmospheric river of snow. If I had to visit the ER, I'm glad I made it in and out before the river arrived!