I'm sitting here in a doctor's office with my mother. Whatever scent was sprayed around is stripping the back of my throat.  It's smells like a flowery paint thinner or an especially pleasantly scented nerve gas.  Brain cells are dying.

We're here because my mother is having hip replacement surgery tomorrow morning. That's why I'm here.

Here is Deming, New Mexico. It's hot here. Today will top 100. The rest of the week is supposed to be hotter.