In Every Sense…

For the last few days I’ve been meaning to write another instalment of memories of Toronto, this time with memories involving the sense of touch. I’ll get to them in a few moments.

Thank you to the friends who expressed concern when this blog got quiet this week. Some physical and personal challenges have been exhausting me. Allow me to share some brighter highlights which did an excellent job of chasing away the tougher moments of the past week.

A few visitors truly brightened my week. One friend who I’d not seen in a very long time with distance between us having been a major obstacle, and another who shared her birthday with me yesterday.

Not to mention several friends, old and new, who made it clear that they could be called upon to accompany me/Suz to the hospital should I ever need to go to emergency again. My account seemed to have scared some of you almost as much as it scared me (and I’d even left the worst of it out to spare you the uncomfortable details).

On that note – let me once again say how much I appreciate my palliative nurses, most of all my lead nurse A. Upon hearing of my ordeal at the hospital last week, she spoke with my doctor immediately to order in supplies so that we can accomplish rehydration here at home the next time I get into trouble. I thought I was fairly well educated on medical protocols, I was delighted to learn that if a vein can’t be located, rehydration can be done through a subcutaneous needle into the fatty tissue instead.  That part I can provide, I’m not exactly packing abs of steel these days! I guess I’m not as prepared for my med school entrance exam as I had thought.

Now back to my beloved Toronto…

The feeling of my stomach leaping into my throat when driving westbound over the bump on the Gardiner Expressway near Palace Pier. Long since smoothed over, but even years later my heart would race in anticipation of that roller coaster ride.

The cobblestones of the Distillery District. Being the klutz that I am, I’d undoubtedly turn my ankle at some point negotiating the unevenness of the street.

The feel of a smooth, flat stone about to be sent skipping across the water on Lake Ontario. Rarely successful, it was all about the attempt. Many, many attempts. I’m surprised there were any stones left for the rest of you.

The coolness (and unfortunately sometimes the sticky tackiness) of a subway or streetcar safety hand rail. The lurch of the car when it was stopped too quickly (a great way to meet people before internet dating)!

Driving over the streetcar tracks on King, Queen, Spadina or College. The smaller my car, the more the tracks seemed to want to take control.

The windy windiness of the financial district or the York University campus. If I had started out with a good hair day, it certainly wouldn’t be ending that way.

The feel of cool pennies flung into the fountain at Yorkdale Mall in the hopes of a wish coming true. Which was usually for ice cream, how convenient that Laura Secord was steps away. 

The wondrously soft muzzles of the police horses at the Sunnybrook Park compound.

The heaviness of the revolving doors at the downtown Hudson’s Bay department store. The millisecond of silence moving between the blare of traffic to the hushed chatter of shoppers inside.

And this one is for any self respecting child growing up in Canada. A tongue stuck to a metal pole in the dead of winter. A rite of passage, but hopefully just the once being enough to learn to never do it again!