As of Monday, Susie will have been gone to Florida for two weeks. I am already eagerly anticipating her return to Columbus in August, especially since it’ll mean my first trip to Florida, when I go down to bring her back.
The rest of my “bachelor summer” just has to be better than my Thursday night-Friday morning has been. On Thursday, I spent the night at Central Ohio Sleep Medicine. My psychiatrist is also a sleep specialist, and at my last appointment, he and I decided it was best if we re-evaluated my sleep situation from the ground up. (He is a nationally recognized expert on sleep, and here is his Website.)
The sleep technician woke me up at 6 a.m. yesterday with the news that my sleep apnea is quite severe. It is so bad that I stopped breathing completely at least 50 times during the night. She gave me a C-PAP, nose pillows, and a ton of documentation about how to operate it. (The model is quite compact. Were it not for the hose, you would think it was a clock radio.)
I am not wild about the prospect of sleeping while hooked up to a machine every night, including having to wear a chin strap so my jaw stays closed. I anticipate a nightly bedtime procedure cum ritual that resembles a pilot’s pre-flight checklist. Not a good thing, since I tend to stay up until I’m about ready to drop over from exhaustion.
I haven’t slept a full night with the machine yet. I left a call on the medical equipment provider’s voice mail because I had some issues with the machine last night, which meant I finally went to sleep around dawn sans the machine. (Much as I hated to do it, I called the bookstore and told them I’d be unable to come in. That’s about $64 in pay to which I bade farewell.)
But enough about my sleep, and the night at the clinic in
Gehenna Gahanna. (I love telling people the sleep clinic is in the Valley of Hinnom.) The worst was yet to come.
I arrived back home around 9:30. The first thing I saw was that my trike was gone. I went around to the side of the house, and sure enough, my cable lock was still there, but someone had snipped it evenly in half. The ends were not frayed. I don’t know what the thief used, but it cut through a Master cable lock as easily as if it was Kleenex.
|I took Susie to see this at Studio 35 about a year and a half ago. Oh, the irony!
I logged a police report online, because using the Columbus Police Department’s Website would take less time and be less frustrating than wading through the voice mail hell you experience when you dial (614) 645-4545. I then went to several places in the neighborhood that sell used bikes, described the bike, and asked them to be on the lookout. I did the same thing online to the Third-Hand Bicycle Co-Op and the Facebook page for the World Naked Bike Ride.
I am guardedly optimistic I will see the bike again. Several people pointed out to me that an adult tricycle would be very conspicuous in Columbus, so now I have many pairs of eyes looking out for it. If anyone tries to sell it, bike stores will notify the police. This was Pride Weekend, and although I missed the Pride Parade downtown, I went to the post-parade festivities in Goodale Park and scrutinized every bike in the bike corral. I came up with a goose egg.
I have not always been in the position of being able to do this, but later on Friday afternoon, I went to Walmart’s Website and ordered a new trike. Like the cherry red one, it’s a 26″ Schwinn Meridian. The only difference (that I could tell from the Website) is that it is blue, rather than red. I may be overreacting, and succumbing a little to paranoia, but I asked Walmart to ship the bike to me care of a friend, so, if the thief decides to pay a return visit, he/she won’t be tempted by the box on my porch when FedEx Ground delivers.
So, another session of Build-a-Bike looms in the near future. It may have been rash to immediately whip out the debit card and order a new trike, but riding it has been therapeutic for me, and it improves my mood better than the 900 mg of lithium I take every day. Even when I go out to run a simple errand, I take the long way around and try to explore unfamiliar streets. (As a gesture of faith, I am using the present tense. I hope to be on three wheels again by this weekend. I want to take my new trike to Comfest.)
This time around, the trike will remain in my dining room when I have it at home. I will also buy a thick U-lock for it, a lock that a thief will really have to work at to break.
And I hope to have more thoughts and accounts borne out of the rides I make on the blue Meridian. But first it has to arrive here in Columbus, and then be assembled. I checked my bank account–the amount has been deducted from my balance, and now I await delivery.