“And this is why my eyes are closed
It’s just as well for all I’ve seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you’re the only one who knows
“So I would choose to be with you
That’s if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you’re the only one who knows…”
And So it Goes, Billy Joel
The phrase “and so it goes” appears 106 times in Kurt Vonnegut Jr’s book Slaughterhouse Five. The story continually employs the refrain “so it goes” when death, dying, and mortality occur, as a narrative transition to another subject, and to explain the unexplained. (from wikipedia)
This morning was the first of 5 doctor visits for Boo up here in Albany…and each time he’ll be escorted by his peeps, E & J. Today we saw Dr. S, the glaucoma doc who is borderline strange but quite efficient, matter of fact, businesslike, and nonplussed * unaffected by Jonah’s colorful personality.
The nurses and staff all know us by now and are very kind to Jonah. When we go there we wait in the hallway outside so Jonah can pace around, and they come out to get us when doc is ready. In the meantime Jonah frolics in the hallway, crouching and running and shouting happily. He loves E & J. I love them too.
J put gloves on Jonah, and they played high five and gimme the pound, bumping fists. Jonah’s getting to be such a good boy at his doctor appointments. He is brave and sweet and funny. Even if I’m under some sort of mother-spell skewing my perception completely, it feels good to have seen him, all lovey and silly. Precious Boo.
He’ll need another eye operation; they want to take the Reticert implant out. It’s been there 2 1/2 years now and Dr. S wants it out soon, so Jonah will have another appointment with Dr. S, but first an appointment at the pediatric rheumatologist, a pre-op appointment at the eye surgeons, then the surgery itself, then follow up appointments, etc. Can you imagine if I didn’t have E & J? Andy or I would have to pick him up and drop him back off every time. The transportation to and from doctor appointments, paired with two individuals like J & E, is an invaluable service and responsibility. I have no idea how they do it. Thank God they do.
You probably can’t tell, but he’s laughing his head off here, wearing his exam gloves and knocking on the door three times, shouting “knock knock knock!” each time. Little peanut butter, E calls him. He wanted me to give him noogie and knock knock knock lightly on his noggin, silly with giggles and ready for mischief. Wan go van? he’d ask J on occasion, and J would distract him with lists of delicious things to eat: french fries! pizza! bleu cheese! circle pepperoni!
When it was time to go I kissed Jonah soundly as he settled into his cushion-y nest they’d made for him in the back of the van. I entrust him to others.
I have to, but with E & J, I am actually glad to.
* I believe that most people misuse the word “nonplussed” – including me. I always thought it meant “unfazed.” Turns out it means exactly the opposite.
So it goes.
The Never Normal 