About Me

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Eleven years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.

Friday, July 15, 2022

Nor did I need my inhaler today.

What I did need, however, was buckets and buckets of sleep. It's becoming apparent to me that the Prednisone has worked its magic. I'm not coughing. I can breathe easily. and I caught nearly five hours of sleep last night. It's also becoming apparent that the sleep deficit caused by the Prednisone is catching up with me.

I got the bipolar bears to their monthly checkup and on to the pharmacy. Came home, logged on, and fought sleep for the next hour and a quarter. Emailed the powers that be and lay down for a nap. Six hours later, I bubbled to the surface again.

Since arising, I've polished off my leftover chicken alfredo, one unadorned hamburger patty, a mug of milk, and the last of the triple ginger cookies. I've read the transcript of Carolyn Hax's weekly chat, played a handful of computer games with varying degrees of success, and checked my FB notifications. And now I'm trying to hang on for another half hour so that I may take my medicines and go back to bed.

I suspect that much of this weekend will be spent horizontal and unconscious. For the present I am fine with that, as I have the attention span of a flea.

Please send postcards from whatever adventures y'all are having while I am out like the proverbial light.

Later, gators!

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