Giving it another try

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSxFiM41u8s

Well, here I am again. Rust covers my writer's brain and my fingers find it hard to find the proper keys.

Physically, my body holds together pretty well. The extra oxygen when I am out and about helps, and hauling extra tanks around  might even count as weight training. I avoided the hospital for more than a year. Only one little problem intrudes into my seemingly good life.

Every time I jump up and turn sharply to the right or left, I lose my balance and spend the next few seconds trying to remain upright. Once I caught myself against the sliding glass doors. Another time I staggered like a drunk at closing time and finally fell/sat on the chair. Dr. Cindy here figures the problem might be an inner ear infection. Or maybe another one of those glorious conditions that happens to those who are closer to death than first grade.

That part of me that controls the rest of me, fails to measure up. I want to curl into a ball the size of a pea and hide in the corner behind the table beside the couch.

With PH, one gets a "weighty" chest. Pressure like an elephant sitting on you. Mentally I feel that elephant in my head and cannot see beyond the gray shadows. On those days, I take my medicines and sleep. When I wake again, I take more medicines and sleep some more.

Those days the world ignores me and carries on as worlds do. I feel guilty. I feel I do not live up to a standard that my parents, teachers, friends, etc., expect of me. I never measure up, least of all to myself.

Sometimes I am so not myself that even my best friend questions my actions. We were standing in the bill pay line at the grocery story. My friend had several bills and money orders to purchase. The line grew long and waiters were mostly men. My friend and I discussed what she was going to feed her family for supper. I turned to the man behind me and asked him what he was having for supper. At first, he was stunned, then he said, "Chicken," and laughed. It seems in my old age, I talk to strangers, something I
would never do when I was younger. I guess I figure I can get away with crazy old lady.

Most days, I do not go outside. I want to be left alone but at the same time I want someone to notice.

I find my mind wandering. Positive thoughts going out to a CFers having a hard time.

Later, Dude.

Mind failure

In my head, I make fun of my friend who cannot seem to remember from one minute to the next. *"Instant Karma" plays in the background.* I realize yesterday I had the date of my doctor's appointment right, but the day of the week wrong. I remind her each time we talk when my appointment hits. I tell her wrong the whole time. I join the mind failure club.

The big dig out begins for my EPL fantasy team. Go Lamps, I need your legs.

The do not want to's plague me now. Include in that list of do not want to's: eat, clean, watch TV, sleep or any of the other fun things I use to fill my days. Henri le Chat Noir cannot hold a candle in the ennui department.

Today the names of 28 farmworkers who died in a 1948 plane crash over Los Gatos Canyon were revealed. A journalist spent many, many hours finding the names of the victims. In a ceremony, a priest celebrated Mass. Better late than never.

Tire, tired, tired

I am tired.

I am tired of people who go off half-cocked about something that has no credibility other than it was seen on Facebook.

I am tired of mindless television for hours on end because I am a prisoner in my apartment.

I am tired of no energy or inclination to do anything.

I am tired of having to rely on someone else to go and do.

I am tired of wondering if I am losing my mind.

I am tired of feeling unworthy.

I am tired.

That season

A TV turned up too loud, the wind whooshing against the windows and somewhere in my sleeping mind, the sound of a siren. Pogo huddles against my body between my face and waist. I lie there for a minute or two trying to get my mind to function. I had been asleep for nearly 3.5 hours.

I looked at the radar on the net and turned on the TV. Weather guys say to take shelter NOW. I grabbed a comforter, my Diet DP, a chair and the remote for the TV. Who knows why I picked up the remote. I called the kitties and went into the tiny closet in the bathroom.

Momo, the curious one, came into the closet to see why I hid there. I closed the door, and for the next hour I sit there, uncomfortably warm, with a no longer curious cat. To be fair, the space could not hold the two of us along with the chair and comforter.

I venture out of the hidey-hole thinking I had not heard the siren in awhile. The TV weather guy says the danger moved on. Back to bed Pogo and I go. He hid in a bathroom cabinet, his go-to spot in times of danger or stress.

Oh yes, earlier in the evening the power dies. I discover I can do without o2 for more than an hour without passing out. I never check the sats, however. I did not recharge my portable after the last outing, thus no o2.

I miss my independence. I find relying on others causes anxiety. When someone asks if I need something, I most often say no. I miss runs to Wendy's for the newest burger. I find myself not aging gracefully.

Funny how when one finally gains wisdom, no one wants to hear. What does one do with an overabundance of wisdom?

As Johnny Cash sang, I still miss someone.

Laters.

Short buts

A former colleague was a legendary sports writer. In his later years, he wrote two columns a day: Short Putts and a longer column. To honor Putt, below you will find my attempt at his style.

The pole on which my satellite sits serves as a message board for the neighborhood cats. ... After watching a couple of shows on H2, I think the conspiracy channel aptly fits. ,,, Of the 160 friends on FB whom I consider journalists, 21 now teach; 113 of the 160 are no longer in journalism. ... How does a 60-year-old, who loses his job, find work? ... Amarillo High School ranks as No. 1 in the city. Always has, always will. ... Salt scalds your tongue as effectively as a boiling cup of coffee. ... Saw where a former colleague plans to wed and move to Ohio. Buckeye teams fare well historically. ... The bed calls me. -- CL

Q&O

Flashy advertising on an obituary page, electronic or otherwise, disrespects the deceased and their families.

Vegetarians eat fake meat because ... ?

Opportunists always find a way to make money: advertisement touts company which gives you settlement money early.

Notice how many lawyers seek calls from people hurt by medical devices, but most do not do the actual work?

Did not Barbara Wa-Wa announce her retirement several months ago?

MYD. Laters.

When I woke up this morning, things were lookin' bad

No matter how much one wishes otherwise, time moves on. Memories fade and reality reveals itself like a rotten banana hidden by a bright golden peel. Viewed from hindsight, events simultaneously seem to focus more sharply and blur. The truth, like a seed bursting with new life, seeks the daylight.