My "dirty red bandana" lover

The title of this post refers to a particular friend of mine, one who I met here in Eugene who then moved away to Connecticut for a job opportunity she couldn't pass up. A true hippie at heart, she loves the Dead and really does wear that dirty red bandana, and does on occasion sing the blues (usually there is whiskey involved).

I miss her so. I had no idea how much of Eugene was her to me. Now it feels empty and boring.

But I write about her now not because I'm just missing her, but also because what she wants to do for me.

She wants me to find a doctor, get pain killers, and she wants to pay for it out of her own pocket. And she's being serious. I don't think she'll let me off the hook about it either.

I think I want to take her up on it. For some time now I've been wanting to be back on the pain meds. I feel like I am at the end of what I can stand. And I don't know how much longer I will have to wait to hear about the outcome of my hearing.

I don't have a lot left in me for anything. At all. It's too much. It's more than I can bear. I just can't take it anymore.

But maybe I can take it just a little bit longer if there is someone out there like my friend who is willing to be so kind. I'm so touched. So touched.

As you know, I try not to use names in my blog. So my dear friend, you know who you are. And I love you.

PS Click on the title of this blog for my dedication to you.