Muddling through

Well folks, things are normal as I fumble my way through life. The doctor at Beth Israel wanted me to see a surgeon and sent me to see Dr. Picone. He is a Venezuelan who wanted to be an astrophysicist but became a surgeon. He treated my wrist in a way somewhat like what Steve Childress had advocated, but with more serious paraphernalia. On the way back to S-K I bought a fruit cup and ate it in their lobby before going up to B's room. Once there I could not find my glasses so I went to their equivalent of a lost and found, which I located after some conversations. They produced a large box of eyeglasses and cases but mine was not in it. So they told me to choose a pair that worked for me and to help myself to a case. So now I have a new pair of reading glasses. But I had lost all-purpose glasses so I called Dr. Picone's office and asked. They remembered all the places in there that I had been too and looked. No luck. Then they said 'look into the bottom of your bag.' I told them that I had already done that but, after hanging up, I looked in an unaccustomed pocket ...