My so-called Dada life (i.e. Nana and the haiku)

I came home yesterday to find a note from bottle rockets. They were buying one of my haiku – for $.50.

Let’s see, having sent it with a stamped, self –addressed envelope, the haiku cost me $.78 to mail.

So I lose $.28 on the deal.

Ah, the world of the haiku poet.

Still, I was happy. Publishing is publishing.

Then I got a call from Nana’s adult home. She’d fallen and was complaining of back pain. She had to go to the emergency room, but refused to get in an ambulance.

I had to take her.

Of course, the emergency room went code red (i.e. full), as did the other main ER in the area. Not enough emergency beds are available locally. Cost-cutting health providers … grr.

Five-hour wait.

After teaching all day.

She finally got x-rayed.

She has old compression fractures in her spine (typical of 91-year old women), and the fall tweaked one section. No new breaks, though.

Some pain medication prescribed. Then back to the adult home.

Then home for me to eat dinner and fall into bed.

Today, a day of teaching, then out to my dad’s adult home to deliver some prescriptions and adult diapers.

Tonight, I am zonked.

Tomorrow I have to get up at 4:30 to go to work at the radio station.

Hey, at least I sold a haiku.

Appropriately, it’s about coffee. (Sorry, I can’t publish it until they print it. Publisher’s rules)

And I only lost $.28.

There has to be something Dadaesque about this!