Covered walkway

...from one part of the hospital to another. I've now had the stress echocardiogram. Nothing to it, a  breeze, a piffle, not a patch on the effort a workout session takes. Now I wait for a verdict. Pacemaker? Or not? I'm not bothered. If I get one and it helps, fine; if I don't need one, fine. The dizziness and shortness of breath are like being a little high or tipsy. I'm with Margie, who says, "Let me live until I die!" I'll see her tomorrow instead of today because all this.

Aimee found a wonderful article about Ai Weiwei, who filled a New York art gallery with garments from refugee camps. By the criticism we've heard lately in certain Leftist camps in Portland, he should have given the garments to needy people instead of hanging them in a gallery. Instead he made art with the clothing, "poignantly embodying the experience of the refugees." 

You can give a refugee child a used blanket, if you can find the child and persuade the authorities to let you give her the blanket; or you can use the blanket to ask a few thousand people to imagine being the child who brought the blanket from Syria to Greece. Maybe some of those people will care enough to advocate for refugees, so that the next 15,000 refugees meet compassion instead of indifference. In a related article, Weiwei says, “I cannot give them food or tea, or money, but rather I can let their voices be heard and recognized. I can give them a platform to be acknowledged, to testify that they are human beings.” Mic drop.