Pre-Thanksgiving thanks

OK, so maybe I can write today.

I am thankful for the little gestures. I am thankful for understanding people. I am thankful for kitties who look adoringly at me as they purr and pat my face with their paws. I am thankful for friends who step in to help others at my behest. I am thankful for the time I got to spend with you, Dude.

I hope to get out and run some errands with Connie. I am, however, sinking fast after a shower and washing my hair. Time to hit the couch for a recharge.

Laters, Dude.

P.S. I called Doc. I started a prednisone taper at 40 mg and I am taking three antibiotic pills a day, plus nebbing albuterol 4 times a day. I am a mean medicine machine. Ha!!

SOS

Life buzzes all around me. The holidays loom. Me, I want to hide. Life conspires against shutting myself away. For one thing, the kitties love to eat and they are not shy about letting me know they have no food in their dishes. I avoid leaving my haven.

Why do men seem to forgive more easily than women?

The great debate continues: Am I sick enough to call Doc? I have been sick two weeks tomorrow. OK. I think I answered my own question.

I worry too much, Dude.

Later.

Thankful

I teetered on the edge of the abyss again. Again someone rescued me.

Later, Dude.

What a mess

I am having that debate with myself. You know the one: Am I sick enough to call Doc? I have bronchitis I am pretty sure. Do I try harder to do the albuterol and Mucinex, which I only half-assed did to begin with? If I wait until Monday to see if I am better, will I have to go to the hospital because I waited? Doc will want to see me I am pretty sure and I really do not want to clean up and go. I will have to decide soon because the office closes at noon.

The cloud hanging above has dissipated some; more like nagging now. I find something to worry about if I have nothing.

Later, Dude.

Tired, so tired

I am tired today. Tired of my self-imposed isolation. Tired of feeling helpless when my friends need help that I cannot provide. Tired of offering help only to have it rejected. Tired of wanting to do more beyond my capabilities. Tired of feeling like a second-class sickie. Tired of pushing away those who attempt to break the barrier between us. Tired of feeling guilty for actions or situations over which I have no control. Tired of feeling like I cannot do enough. Tired that I worry about others' perception of me. Tired of how a simple gesture can become an obsession. Tired of feeling no one cares. Tired of disparity.

Miss you, Dude. Laters.

A setup for failure

I learned a lesson today. I hope I remember the wisdom I gained before I jump into anything or anyone with my ideas. I tend to offer advice asked for or not.

I stood on the brink of telling someone that by announcing one's intentions, one sets oneself up for failure. Failure offers its own rewards in sympathy and attention. "Aww, you will do it next time."

Examine the motive. Why would I want to tell someone? Who would it benefit?

Do you tell someone what seems obvious to you when it might cause a rift?

OK, I was reading Google News and this story says what I an trying to say.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/11/14/health/lose-weight-mouth-shut-secret/

So, I guess I am not that far off base. Just remember I care and I will try to be more understanding.

Later, Dude.

Ragtime

My apartment looks like a cyclone blew through. I do not know why I am amazed at the wreckage, after all I basically did nothing for two days. The kitties did nothing to improve the situation. They still demanded their food, which in turn led to cat box demands and cat food cans.

I apparently left the living room closet unlatched and the boys drug out most of their toys.  Momo carried  around in his mouth the padded envelope in which my medicine came, occasionally stopping to pull a hunk out of it. Bits and pieces of plastic line his pathway.

Dirty clothes overflow the basket. Dirty hand towels litter every room. If someone saw my garbage, he might call "Hoarders." See, a stopped up nose can come in handy.

I slept most of yesterday, waking only for medicine every four hours. Today, so far, seems better. Ears still itch, nose still plugged, still achy, but not as bad.  Guess I need to see what I can salvage.

Later, Dude.

One word at a time

I stare at the blinking cursor. I check FB. I get something to eat. I stare at the blinking cursor. I check Google news. I go sit in my chair and look outside. I stare at the blinking cursor.

The world spins. I spin.

Miss you, Dude.

Later.

Tell me it ain't so

Bronchitis brews. The tickle leads to a nonproductive cough. An irritation near the intersection of the clavicles burns along with a bit of acid reflux. My arms ache; my hands hurt.

Tomorrow I see the cardiologist for a regular checkup. I will sit and wait for an hour or more to see the doc for 5 minutes. He ranks as one of the best, so as long as I have no symptoms, we are good.

I feel so isolated.

Later, Dude.

Wasted days

I spent the past couple of days asleep. Oh, I got up to eat, take meds, pee and feed the kitties, but the majority of the time I lay sound asleep on the couch having every intention of watching something on TV. Today I hope I can make a little headway on that list I mentioned. The few things I did do need doing again.

Nope, not today either.

Miss you Dude.

Later.

Hi ho, hi ho

The chore fairy failed to show, so I guess I will tackle the gigantic list today.

First on the agenda: make soup. My little soup takes a 7-quart pot. By the time I add all the veggies, the concoction could feed dozens or myself  two meals a day for more than a week. A double recipe for cornbread just about fills out the week. Yummm!!! Good eatin'. I also will make some sort of cake or pudding.

Also on the to-do list: clean outside of kitchen cabinets with Murphy Oil Soap then Old English; sweep and mop kitchen; vacuum and dust; file bills and notices that threaten to spill out of the basket onto the floor; change the bedding; and the usual wash the dishes and clean the cat box.

The Pulmonary Hypertension Association declared November as PH awareness month. I have PH and I understand the importance of information, after all, my doc knew fairly quickly what my symptoms indicated. Other folks are not so lucky. Doctors tell them that their shortness of breath will disappear if they lose weight and exercise. Other docs might diagnose asthma or COPD. Only a right heart cath tells for sure if one has PH. I appreciate all the efforts of my fellow FBers who have PH, but I feel with the new settings on FB, that perhaps the messages should target nonPHers, not all of us all the time. Preaching to the choir.

The temperatures fell into the 20s two nights in a row. I expect to say bye-bye to the green any day now.

Hey Dude, you would be proud of my EPL efforts. (OK. The kiss of death hovers now.) Off to work.

Later.

No more

Pogo darts; Momo howls. I am ready for bed. 

Later, Dude.