Amazing turnabout?

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Just days ago I saw a blackout coming.  Like the fighter who begins to see stars and losing the sensation of pain, I suspected the mat was where my next hit was coming from.  Gravity, of any sort, can be a real bitch.  So, what happened?  Did meds kick in just in time, did I catch a second breath?  Oh, well, I'm not, purely speaking, out of the shit yet.  I am just... staying on my feet, doing absolute minimums, not putting the champ in the corner.  I'll take it, I'll take it!

I didn't get to bed until 3:30.  Like I said though, I wanted to be up by noon at the latest.  While it would be pushing it, since yesterday was light and I believed sleep would be good, I set the alarm for 11:00.  I did wake at 8:00, needing to void, but I could... not... wake... beyond tending the call of nature anyway.  Life hurt.  Then I got a call at a bit before 10:00, the V.A., an echo cardiogram.  Okay, I was pretty deep in the throws of sleep.  She didn't really want to talk but I knew I had to get the data or it would be lost, as would my chances of making it.  So I struggled to keep her on the line long enough to nail down solid numbers on the data (the 13th and a Thursday @ 13:00).  It was murder fighting her to give me the key data in numbers my mind could grok and fight my sleep enough to fight her and get the data, and then store that in my mind well enough to transfer to something more solid and quickly before it evaporated into the ether... or nether.  But I did it.  I put the data into my phone calendar, with enough alarms that even I might make it, considering my weak-sauce positioning in the world.  Damn it, they can't say I don't put in the effort, failures be damned.

After that effort, I thought about going back to sleep.  I thought to let the alarm get me up.  But, no, I was... well enough awake, and being awake didn't hurt.  So, I swung my legs out like I was heading to war, crisp, clean, fast, and hard.  I bolted to the kitchen to... What?  Ah, feed the girls.  Then what?  My mind... just wasn't moving like my corpse.  Ah, meds... no... potassium... no... weight!  Weight first, always.  Could I void first though?  Nope.  *plop*  The scale is mocking me... 275.0.  Bastard.  Never mind.  Now for medicine, potassium mixed first, to take as the liquid for the medicine.  I couldn't handle the potassium this morning but did get enough down to take the medicine.  Did I mix it wrong, did I use water or that girly stuff my mom started me on that was in the jug?  Fuck!  I can't remember.  Brain is NOT working.

Hungry.  I have eaten all but one big several serving size bowl of the menudo.  I had that last big bowl thawing.  Yep, it was fully thawed, as was the meat I had put out with it.  Meat into the fridge, a serving bowl filled out of the big bowl of menudo, into the microwave then the big bowl into the fridge, turn on the micro.  Yep, that is... as good as it gets for planning and brain power.  Somewhere in there the computer and game were switched on.  An hour or two of goofing to get me ready to take a shower then call my friend.

What is wrong?  Don't know, this is actually a good if not quite top or ideal day, being that I am awake, before the alarm, and have run my subroutines properly so far.  I have taken bp and weight, then medicine and food, the machines are on, the curtains are open to a sunny day, and I'm not dead.  I think.  This, perhaps, is actually purgatory.  I'm not completely square on that notion, and how would I prove otherwise?  Either way, I am working to be a self-functional tool for God, and to do His will.  And I will do that until either I am no more or He takes me home.

Whatever, this is what I have and what I know.  Weak-ass-sauce as that may be, push or pull as I might, come what may, I will just keep up as I can.  And enjoy it, actually, if I don't have a clue about what is going on half or more of the time.  I best get to tinkering to try to kick something loose so my time in town is productive and my friend doesn't call out the zombie killer squad on me.  Bleh. 

Good day.