It was a gorgeous beautiful day yesterday, and we drove out to Belle Isle for a walk, but I was so sick that I couldn't walk. I was sick all weekend (and all of the preceding week), with a painful belly ache--apparently the same one Keith had on his birthday and the weekend after when we visited Gail. I got out of the car and only managed to walk a few steps and had to have Keith drive me home. Even lying down didn't help. But it was all I could manage to do.
Lying down was uncomfortable and I had to get up and sit, and that was uncomfortable so I tried a different chair. Nothing helped.
I am hoping this will pass soon, because I have so much to do to prepare for my opening, and I am falling further and further behind.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
High-Brow (Alfie)
This is Gail's other new kitten, the boy, High-Brow (Alfie--short for Alfalfa). Photo by Mary Stebbins 
Feeling Cranky
Last night I was cranky and irritable and I hadn’t had coffee, chocolate, mint, black or green tea or ginger. Of course, I had insomnia.
This is what I ate: an omelette made with egg beaters and one real egg, turkey sausage (fresh), mushrooms (fresh garden), zucchini, two slices of garlic bread which I accidentally buttered with real butter, bran, prunes. AND then: scalloped potatoes made with rice milk, fake cheese (veganrella), ham, shallots, garlic, white flour. Two slices of toast with margarine and bran, prunes. That was the sum total of what I ate for the day.
Suspect: white bread and white flour, shallots, garlic, potato (I ate one), butter. I cannot believe that the amount of butter I ate could make me feel THAT bad. I don’t understand it.
This is what I ate: an omelette made with egg beaters and one real egg, turkey sausage (fresh), mushrooms (fresh garden), zucchini, two slices of garlic bread which I accidentally buttered with real butter, bran, prunes. AND then: scalloped potatoes made with rice milk, fake cheese (veganrella), ham, shallots, garlic, white flour. Two slices of toast with margarine and bran, prunes. That was the sum total of what I ate for the day.
Suspect: white bread and white flour, shallots, garlic, potato (I ate one), butter. I cannot believe that the amount of butter I ate could make me feel THAT bad. I don’t understand it.
“Drove My Chevy to the Levy”
Keith gets up at 4:20 every morning, so by the time we get Graham to bed and he reads me a selection from our current book (The Dollmaker, by Harriet Arnow, lent to us by Gail), it’s late for him and he’s very tired.
Last night, as often happens, he went to bed before me (thought I’d rather go in with him, I had things I needed to do). When I went in, a little while later, he was all warm and snug. I woke him for a brief cuddle and then he went back to sleep. I couldn’t sleep—my usual insomnia. I was lying beside him, not too close, with one hand resting lightly on his butt, when I heard him emit a high sound of surprise and fear and his warm butt went instantly cold and goose-bumps rose on his butt. They were the largest goose-bumps I’d ever felt in my life.
I said, “Keith, are you all right?”
He said, “Oh, thank you for saving me.” He then proceeded to tell me that he and I and someone else were out on a very long pier when we looked up and saw a huge Tsunami rear up and roar toward us. We turned and ran toward shore, and Keith was thinking, terrified, “This will be the day that I die.” (And that was when I woke him.)
(Drove my Chevy to the Levy, but the levy was dry, and good boys were drinking whisky and rye singing this will be the day that I die)
Last night, as often happens, he went to bed before me (thought I’d rather go in with him, I had things I needed to do). When I went in, a little while later, he was all warm and snug. I woke him for a brief cuddle and then he went back to sleep. I couldn’t sleep—my usual insomnia. I was lying beside him, not too close, with one hand resting lightly on his butt, when I heard him emit a high sound of surprise and fear and his warm butt went instantly cold and goose-bumps rose on his butt. They were the largest goose-bumps I’d ever felt in my life.
I said, “Keith, are you all right?”
He said, “Oh, thank you for saving me.” He then proceeded to tell me that he and I and someone else were out on a very long pier when we looked up and saw a huge Tsunami rear up and roar toward us. We turned and ran toward shore, and Keith was thinking, terrified, “This will be the day that I die.” (And that was when I woke him.)
(Drove my Chevy to the Levy, but the levy was dry, and good boys were drinking whisky and rye singing this will be the day that I die)
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Keith SIck
Keith Sick, photo by Mary Stebbins
Keith has been sick for several days. He got sick on his birthday, the day he turned 60, Wednesday, October 19, 2005. He's been sick now for 4 and a half days.
We went to Gail's today. He laid on the sofa being sick. Not all day, but off and on a good part of it.
Diary of an Insomniac, 10/23/05
I don't want to die. I know we all have to die sometime, but I would rather it be later than sooner.
I've got allergies, tonight, or a cold, or both. It's often hard for me to tell the difference. My nose is clogged, and I can't breathe. At all. Not through my nose.
I took an antihistamine, but it only helped for a little while. Meanwhile, I got the Sahara Desert sirocco in my nostrils and sinuses. Ouch—hot winds! Horrible. It really hurt. Ok, you're saying, you're ridiculous. Maybe I am. I seem to be overly sensitive about everything relative to other people. But that didn't take away the pain as I experienced it.
Then the congestion returned, all of it. I can't get a breath of air through my nostrils.
If I can't breathe through my nose, I can't wear my CPAP. If I can't wear my CPAP, I can't sleep. My doctor says, never sleep without the CPAP, you could die. I don't want to die. I think I said that. I must admit, though, that I was so tired, I tried sleeping anyway. I slept for just under two hours from 10:35 or so until 12:30. It's 3:25 AM and I've been up ever since. I can't sleep.
I have sleep apnea, and my throat closes up when I sleep. The soft tissues relax and close the air passage. My body is literally smothering itself. Usually, I wake up in a panic gasping for air. But, the doctor says, sometime, I might just not wake up. I might die instead. People do. I don't want to die.
It might help if I could lose weight, but sleep apnea causes weight gain and I can't seem to lose weight. It might not help anyway, but I'd like to give it a try.
Meanwhile, I can't sleep, so I am sitting up. But I might go lie down. Try again. I'm so very tired.
Meanwhile, I am charging my camera battery so I can download the pix from our trip to Gail's. That will take a couple hours. I sure don't want to sit and wait for it.
--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary
Friday, October 14, 2005
Love Never Fails
In the Bible, I Corinthians 13, it says, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes,a lways perserveres. Love never fails. . . . The greatest of these is love."
I feel sad when I read this becasue I certainly fall short of "the glory of God" in my ability to love--I am way too human! It is unfortunate! I want love that never fails. love that never keeps a record of wrongs. Love that is not easily angered. I want perfection, but am so imperfect.
--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary
--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary
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