Back in Glen Head

Dear family and friends,

We were in NYC for just about 24 hours, but it feels like we have been gone for several days. I love being in our apartment, looking out the big windows, especially at night, at the buildings surrounding Bryant Park to the north and west and the NYPL to the east. Watching the skaters is also a delight, day or night. Even the trees continue to be splendid.

The visit to Mt. Sinai went reasonably well. The reason for the meeting with the neurosurgeon was mainly to ask if a stitch that had suddenly crept out into the open from inside my scalp could be removed. It could, and was. It was a stiff little thing, about 1/2" long. Tricky. I had visions of my whole brain coming out along with the stitch. Not really, just a tiny little bit of apprehension. I also was a little concerned that the two depressions in my skull that were getting deeper. That's where the surgeon opened my head to get at the hematoma in my skull. His answer: yes, they were getting bigger. As the skull is healing, the . . . Well, I can't really explain it. Dr. Moyle assured me he could provide plates, I think, to cover the depressions, but I quickly said, "No, thanks," before even finding out how he would do it. Since he's a surgeon it probably would involve a knife. My hair, which is growing in, covers them anyway.

We were also there to hand off the tests done for and by the neurologist (Dr. O), two MRIs, the EMG test, and the incomplete record of the blood tests Dr. O had ordered. As an aside, I had blood drawn 3 times this week. The two doctors, Dr. Moyle and Dr. O, are in agreement that the compressed vertebra from the July fall is not causing the neuropathy in my feet and lower limbs. It's probably the blood condition. We left Dr. Moyle with all the records and perhaps he will look at them, perhaps not.

While we were waiting, a rather long time, for Dr. Moyle, Merwin ran down to the excellent cafeteria at Mt. Sinai and got us each a cup of soup and a roll. Delicious, and a good thing too because we had to be in Dr. Mascarenhas's clinic by 2.45, and it was just that when we started down. We would not have had time for lunch if we had waited (a thought too dreadful to contemplate: nothing at all wrong with my appetite). We got out of the clinic at about 4:45.

Amy and Dr. M were happy to see us. We got hugs from Amy and I got one at the end from Dr. M. It's such a good feeling to know that these practitioners and scientists care about us as individuals. The bad news is that there IS no Comfort trial for us. The trial is over and now the year-long process of proving to the FDA that the drug can be prescribed by physicians has begun. In other words, it'll be at least a year until I can start taking this promising drug. I had not been able to get into this trial a couple of years ago because my bloods were so out of control. Dr. Mascarenhas may have another trial for me soon. In the meantime, my local hematologist should continue to be my doctor, monitoring the chemo I take (doses go up and down according to blood values). So the news was not all good, but neither was it all bad.

You can see why it feels as if we have been away from Glen Head for a long time. And yet the best is yet to be told. Toby and Elliott went with Merwin to Szechuan Gourmet, our faavorite restaurant on the next block. I can't walk there these days, so they ate there and on their return brought me takeout, vegetarian steamed dumplings and scallion pancake. Yum. Elliott had not seen our apartment before and his enthusiasm and admiration were delightful, starting with the building itself (now a landmark building, facade only), and continuing with our apartment, with its magnificent nighttime view. Their permanent residence is now NYC, and they have a lovely apartment within walking distance of Lincoln Center and many other venues. So Elliott's admiration was especially gratifying. A good day, though exhausting.

The next morning Ralph, Judy and Mary Hill, came for breakfast, and we enjoyed the visit enormously. None of these three seem to change, ever. Salt of the earth. Ralph has played a major role in Shakespearean staging, with his return to original practices without pretending that what he does is what Shakespeare did, exactly. The main thing is bare stages, open lighting so that actors and audience members can see each other, speedy delivery, overlapping scenes with no scene changes necessary—and lively, invigorating performances. His several troupes, one in permanent residence in Staunton, VA, playing in the Blackfriars replica theater he caused to be built, and two traveling troupes, have brought the purity of early practice staging to thousands of people. If he were British, he would be knighted. His next project is to build a Globe replica in Staunton. What energy! What enthusiasm! It doesn't matter how long it has been since we three have seen each other: it's immediate closeness. Ralph is very good at making friends and holding them close to his heart.

After that, we braved the snow piles and puddles to go for a short walk in Bryant Park; picked up some sandwiches at the wonderful Pret a Mange (not sure how this is spelled), and even made a purchase at one of the Park's temporary boutiques. After lunch our dear friend Laury came for us and took us home (Dave had driven us in). Next time, though, I am going to try the LIRR—a step toward normality.

I have gone on long enough, enjoying my talk with all of you. Your news is very welcome.

Love,
Bernice

Love,
Bernice