“How are you doing?”
That’s the first question many people ask when they see me. They tell me how good I look, and then they ask, “How are you doing?”
It’s a nice question to ask, but it’s a little tricky to answer. If I know someone has a great sense of humor, I might say, “Well, I’m dying.” But usually what I say is that for the condition I’m in, I’m doing pretty well. I mean that both physically and psychologically. If I have a couple of sickly days in a row (as I did last week), I confess that I start feeling a little sorry for myself and I cancel scheduled visits. If I’m feeling pretty good, on the other hand, I get optimistic— and the visits energize me.
The hardest moment for me was a few weeks ago when my granddaughter Ella was going back home to New York after spending some time with us. I’d been feeling pretty bad and couldn’t help wondering if I’d ever see her again. That was tough. She’s been here again for the past week, and I wasn’t nearly as teary when she headed home yesterday. I’ve been feeling pretty good for the past five days, so I’m pretty sure I’ll see her again. There’s nothing scientific about that, of course; my prognosis is what it is. But that’s what a couple of good days will do for you.
I love the time I’ve had over the past few weeks with Ella’s parents. They’ve clearly bent over backwards to carve out time from their incredibly busy lives in New York to spend time in Richmond. I appreciate every minute with them.