1 result for (book:tps7 AND heading:"delet session decemb 4 1983" AND stemmed:was)
7/28 (25%)
Phyllis
cream
knuckles
healing
rinse
[... 1 paragraph ...]
(Last night I had a very vivid dream in which I sold three of my paintings. One of them was one of the last I’ve painted before Jane went into the hospital. I sold it for $30.00 to an older man who returned to my outside wall, where I had my work hung several times before he decided to buy it. I was quite pleased. It’s the little painting of a dream of my own, in which I stand on the close edge of a roof, looking down into a city street.
(The day was cold—34 degrees—with a coating of half-frozen snow on everything; it had been accumulating through the night. I drove carefully to get to 330. Jane said she had things to tell me as I turned her on her back. She ate a good lunch, even though dietary had left the ice cream off the tray.
(Phyllis, the nurse, hadn’t taken care of Jane lately. She was assigned to her room today, though, and this morning as she began working with Jane she commented several times of the marked improvement in Jane’s ability to move, and the rate at which her decubiti are healing. Jane said Phyllis volunteered the comments without being asked. Indeed, I saw that Phyllis had put much smaller patches on the ulcer on Jane’s knee, her elbow, and so forth. The knee is healing remarkably well.
[... 11 paragraphs ...]
(When Jane did begin the session, fairly late, her Seth voice was quite strong, if rather controlled.)
[... 8 paragraphs ...]
(4:40 PM. Jane too had been aware of the more powerful Seth voice; she was a bit surprised at it. Perhaps we should have asked about this phenomena, but we didn’t.
(The moment Seth mentioned the insurance connection, it fell into place with my dream—of course, I saw, both had to do with our receiving money from outside sources. Jane reacted the same way, she said. It was cheering news. It was also one of those occasions where I wondered why I hadn’t seen the obvious—obvious only when it was pointed out by another....
(I turned Jane and massaged her with Oil of Olay as usual. She ate well after I’d had a nap. She began to have a few tears as we read the prayer together before I left at 7:10; she said she cried because I was going. I told her that when I was alone at the house I often imagined her there too. If I was in the writing room, say, I think of her in her own writing room, or the kitchen or the breezeway—or even walking, doing the dishes, perhaps, or turning on the TV. I love you, Jane.)
