Okay. Well?

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I tried to stay up longer, in order to reset my schedule.  I didn't.  I had hoped since I went to bed so early (a local low) that I would wake earlier.  I didn't.  I slept fifteen hours, if my... memory serves.  Oh, that isn't going to work.  I simply don't have a way to fix things, change them.  The girls woke me a time or two.  In stirring, however, I could not attain consciousness so drifted back into the nether.  I simply don't have function or control currently.

The weather, as my friend suggests on days like this, is perfect for a murder.  He does make me laugh.  He certainly has some things down to be sure.  Dark, gloomy, with rain from time to time.  The cold and damp of spring paints dark images in the mind.  It makes being and staying awake a climb I just can't do.  Then again, even the bright and shiny yesterday simply couldn't penetrate the inner gloom and exhaustion.  On the good side, no pain today.  After a week of every other day being literally physically hurtful, it's a good thing to wake without suffering.  Even better though?  Even on the bad days, in spite of gloom, exhaustion, and pains?  I still feel, inside, pretty damn good!  Don't even ask how.  The truth is, I usually do feel pretty good, assuming I can feel at all.  Sometimes I am simply numb.  But not this week.  *dances on my grave*  Hells yeah!

I am pretty sure I am continually getting better.  A slow down or drop off is, well, to be expected.  I will suffer those the rest of my life, probably to a level most can't understand.  I believe those have become ingrained, through a body striving to survive in a situation that kills most people.  My body can push, and can call the game off, as it sees fit.  And when I push, it has ways of shutting even that down.  I have been given an amazing body.  I am still alive for it.  Assuming there is a resurrection of the flesh, and assuming it will be well, I can only imagine what it can do when able to gallop at full pace for it's potential, of mind and body.  The spirit is good, has been for decades now.  The cesspool was cleaned and cleared, through God's plan.  But the mind and body remain bound to foibles of the flesh.  For now.

I certainly haven't given up hope.  If it takes me to 70 before I heal, so be it.  Age will no more be an impediment than illness.  It's how I work.  Keep at it folks.  Losing means learning, failing but surviving means you get at least one more chance, and dying ain't all that anyway.  Hup!

Later.