Went to the knee doctor today. I was wise enough to run before i went into the appointment, though not wise enough to run far enough to trigger enough pain to provide a description to my doctor for what I was feeling.

I very much enjoy chatting with the doctor. He is all short, direct sentences, and will keep talking if interrupted. I have learned not to interrupt him.

Okay, doc said MRI at this point would be to see what the surgical options are. Given has been 3 weeks since injury, he says wait for a month and then have the MRI, to give my knee time to heal as best it can. Stay active, as much as I can tolerate (so, somewhere between sloth and Priyanka levels of activity), go to PT again for exercises that I can tolerate, and don't aggravate the knee. Walks with packs are fine if the knee is okay. Don't go downhill much if I can avoid it, for the next month.

I'm sitting in a hotel lobby, a lovely place in Punta Arenas, Chile. I am four days from my scheduled leaving for Antarctica. I am surrounded by eclipse chasers.

This is not my tribe.

There's a woman here who has been to 23 eclipses. She is loud and proud about this number.

There's the editor of Astronomy magazine over at another table. He's had that job for 34 years. He's a celebrity to this crowd.

There's a retired physician from Phoenix talking with his eclipse chaser friends. The group talking about past eclipses, future eclipses, photography equipment, eclipse stories.

For all of them, Antarctica is secondary to the eclipse. The eclipse is the draw. "I'm going to ride the bikes, but I don't want to use crampons or an ice axe."

Feels similar to last year: many people went to Antarctica for the penguins. I went for the ice, the rocks, the cold, the continent.

Landed in Houston pretty much on time, and wandered to the nearest club lounge. Turns out, no, wrong one, you want the one closer to your departure gate. I was still uncertain if was in the correct lounge, so expressed the uncertainty to the front desk gatekeeper. Her demeanor was stiff to the point of hosility until she looked at my ticket, and saw that, indeed, I could be in the lounge. She was then very pleasant. The switch gave me discomfort whiplash.

I spent an hour in the lounge, mostly reading emails, and received a "suddenly filled with the feeling that you’re travelling with someone," response, which made me sad and immediately defensive, as I am now unable to have some solitude without triggering someone else's anxiety. I wish we hadn't ended up here, but since we are here, I'm embracing empathy and gratitude.