We were supposed to go to San Francisco today. Gilbert's niece was coming to town for a wedding and would have Saturday afternoon free and hoped to see us. When she told me a few months ago, I put it on the calendar and planned to meet her. She lives in Kansas and I haven't seen her in about 25 years or more.
As the day got closer, and I heard from her that she would be at a brunch and wasn't sure when she'd be free and I thought about where she was staying--across the street from Ghirardelli Square, in Fisherman's Wharf, I was less enthusiastic.
The traffic would be terrible. The parking would be pretty much impossible and even if we found a place to park, what would we do? Walk around Fisherman's Wharf? Great if you can walk, which I can't. I have a hard time walking a block.
So I decided to tell her we couldn't come. She was disappointed, but understood.
Then it turns out that I had not yet had a bowel movement since my colonoscopy and I finally did...so many times I had to rush to the bathroom every 10 minutes or so. I was so relieved to think of what would have happened if we had gone to San Francisco!
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